#be there 8:06 SHARP

[skzdarlings]

06. sharing a bed series ; skz ; felix

masterlist.

sharing a bed series part 6/8. because it’s the cheesiest most classic trope and it’s FUN. -

pairing: lee felix/reader content info: sexual content. enemies2lovers, sharing a bed trope. bodyguard au. a dose of angst. open ending. past violence and parental abuse mentioned. ongoing perilous situation and forced proximity. not the healthiest dynamic lol. spanking, some rough play, hair-pulling, throat-grabbing, overstimulation, crying during sex, mention of past unprotected sex, a more dominant felix and a kinda bratty reader.

-

You kick open your bedroom door.  As usual, no one is home except for you and Felix so you are free to scream and curse and stomp all you want. 

“I can’t fucking believe you!” you shout among a flurry of other colourful words.   

Felix enters behind you with his hands in his pockets, looking as nonchalant as ever. 

Felix’s perpetual calmness is half the reason your father hired him.  The other reason is that Felix was the best behaved boy in the world who grew into the most pristine, perfect man.  Your father did not claw his way to the top of the industrial world by settling for anything less than the best.  Lee Felix is the best.  Your father trusts him with everything and anything, including wrangling his rambunctious daughter.  Felix’s job is to guard and protect you – from others and from yourself.   He is annoyingly good at it.    

Felix is the prettiest, loveliest, sweetest man on the outside, particularly selected for his unassuming attributes.  An obvious bodyguard figure draws unwanted attention.  Felix, however, attended high school and college with you, posing as a fellow student and never looking out of place, always appearing gentle and ordinary and kind.  Behind that, he is a lethally competent bodyguard.  Your skinny, freckled, fair-haired watchdog can subdue any adversary. 

Including the one tonight. 

“I was just doing my job,” Felix says.  He closes your bedroom door and locks it out of habit even though you are home alone.  He is still completely uncaring to your crisis, as fucking usual, wandering around like he is a sensitive little lamb, smiling and content. 

You throw yourself down on your bed with a dramatic heave. 

“You broke his arm!” you cry.   

Felix is standing at your desk, removing his work equipment.  He is dressed like a civilian for the most part, denim pants with a windbreaker and a button-down over a t-shirt.  He lays the jacket over the back of the chair and sighs, looking at his reflection in your vanity mirror.   He runs a hand through his hair, still casual, feathering the dyed locks so they flutter back into place.   

“I was just doing my job,” he repeats.  He undoes the button-down and tosses it aside, then kicks his shoes under the desk.  

Felix is all sharp lines and harsh angles, slender but athletic.  His cheekbones are high, his angular face softened by his dark eyes and endearing freckles.   That sweetness is juxtaposed by the gun harness strapped across his back. 

You swallow.  The harness hits the floor, then he grabs the back of the t-shirt and yanks it swiftly over his head.  It joins the pile of discarded articles. 

He sits on the desk chair with a distracted sigh, dutifully disassembling the gun for an inspection or cleaning or whatever nonsense Felix has decided is more important than your conversation.  

“His arm,” you repeat.  “You broke his arm.  He was a completely innocent guy!  I’m allowed to flirt with guys!  Just because you’re my daddy’s good dog and he doesn’t let you get your dick wet, doesn’t mean I have to suffer too.” 

Felix looks at you, his mouth a thin line with his unamused smile. 

“Cute,” he says.  He drops the smile and his distinctive deep voice drops another decibel when he says, “You can flirt.  Just not with him.”

“His arm—”

Felix closes the gun and puts it on the desk. 

“I think he was lucky I didn’t rip it off for grabbing you like that, don’t you think?”  Felix says.  He asks it so nicely too, tipping his head imploringly, like he really wants an answer.  Not that he waits.  Just as soon as the smile comes, it goes, replaced with a eye roll as he gets to his feet. 

“Get ready for bed,” Felix says.  “And, mmm, that’s not a request by the way.  I’m phoning your dad to tell him we’re home safe.” 

He doesn’t give you a chance to argue, just leaves the room while reaching into his back pocket for his phone.  He closes the door behind himself, leaving you to fume by your lonesome. 

Out of rebellious frustration, you do not budge an inch.  You cross your arms and sit back on your bed, still dressed in your evening outfit.  You can distantly hear Felix speaking in a formal voice and it makes you twitch with anticipation. 

Felix being so professional is simultaneously his most annoying and most attractive quality.  Annoying, because he really never falters on the clock.  Attractive, because it wouldn’t be any fun pushing him to the boundaries of his rules if he wasn’t such a stickler in the first place.

When Felix returns, still wearing nothing more than his jeans, his expression immediately turns exasperated.  He closes the door and puts his hands on his hips, staring down at you.  

You stare straight ahead, arms and ankles crossed.   You and Felix have shared a bed since the day he was hired, back when you were teenagers, as you were in the habit of sneaking out at night.  You were not intimidated by the chubby-cheeked teenage boy, gleefully slipping past him while he slumbered – until suddenly you were being yanked back through the window.  You learned the hard way that despite his appearance and disposition, he was an especially skilled martial artist.    

As your father continues to accrue enemies in every market, you cannot live life on your own, not without endangering it.  You still need Felix.  You still share a bed.  Everything you do, you do with Felix, whether you like it or not.  Felix expresses little feeling on that front, a perpetual font of seeming sunshine when he isn’t breaking someone’s arm.

You know you are being mightily petulant by keeping him up, but you don’t care.   If you can’t have what you want then neither can he.   You can stay up all night, just staring and glaring at each other contemptuously.  You are happy to let all that mutual disdain simmer through its achingly slow burn. 

“Really?”  Felix says.  “Do we have to do this tonight?” 

“I’m not doing anything,” you say.   

“Right.”  He laughs dryly but sits gingerly on his side of the bed.  He smiles, his eyes crinkling sweetly with pleasure.  His hair is getting longer again, sweeping his neck, and you watch as he delicately tucks some behind his ear.   He leans on one arm, looking at you.  “I’ll ask you nicely then, sweetheart.” 

Ooh, that’s a low blow and he knows it.  The word sweetheart always sounds so rich in his mouth, his accent softening the heart of it.  Hopefully he misses the way you melt, but you doubt it. 

His smile only deepens. 

“Please, please get ready for bed,” he says.  “It’s been a long day, yeah?  And we’re both so tired.  Come on.  Let’s go.  Just need some rest I think.  Yeah, yeah, let’s go.” 

You do not move.    

You hear him sigh, a melodic sound.  He runs his hand through his hair again. 

“All right,” he says, soulfully.  “All right.  Fine.” 

You hear the sharper inflection in his tone but you react a moment too late.  Your bed is big, big enough you could starfish without even brushing his side of the bed, so it takes you a second to scamper to the opposite side. 

That second is too long.  Felix reaches out and grabs you by the calf, dragging you across the bed.

“Don’t you dare,” you say, kicking at him to no avail.   “I’ll phone my dad!”

He is completely undeterred by your dramatics, only sighing when he hauls you over his lap. 

“Go ahead,” he says.  “I’m allowed to use, uhhh, what’d he say… discretion… mm… to discipline you if I think I need to.” He puts his phone within your reach.  It is not a genuine gesture of goodwill so much as it is taunting you because you both know your father would take his side.   “Well?” he asks.  “Do you want to phone him?”   

“I hate you,” you say.

“I know,” he replies.  “Sorry.” 

He sounds like he means it, though it’s hard to believe him when he flicks up your dress and swings his open palm across your ass.  His hand comes down four more times before he neatly fixes your skirt again. 

“Bed time?” he asks brightly, like everything has been solved with no problem. 

You crawl off his lap while grumbling irritably, doing your best to ignore the smarting on your behind when you turn over to glare at him.  He is just smiling at you, that thin-lipped way he smiles with dry humour. 

“I hate you,” you say again. 

He waves his hand, gesturing the vaguest, blandest sentiment of meh with its wiggle.  

“I’m just doing my job,” he says for the millionth time. 

“Really?” you reply with as much sarcasm as he usually gives.  He hears it, tilting his head like a curious cat, as if he has no idea why you could possibly be upset with him – though the stupid little upturn to his lips tells you that he knows exactly why.  

You hate him.  You really, really do hate him.  You have never hated anyone the way you hate him and you want to shout it from the roof.  But you can’t do that.  You can only say it to his face in private, in whatever way you can.  

You reach without warning, cupping the bulge between his legs and finding a lot more than a denim crinkle.  His gaze darkens, his hand covering yours warningly, though he doesn’t lift it away.

You adopt a saccharine sweet tone when you speak.

“Do you tell my daddy that when you discipline me you get hard?” you ask, batting your eyelashes. 

He moves your hand to his thigh instead, shaking his head. 

“Stop being silly,” he says.  “Go get ready for bed.” 

Your eyes follow him as he stands.  He doesn’t get far when you grab his belt loop and tug him back.   Felix has fast reflexes and is incredibly coordinated, so you find it hard to believe you sincerely bested him, but he stumbles as if you did.   He stands where you want him, where he’s close enough for you to kneel on the bed and press your face right against his bulge. 

He says your name in a warning voice, his already deep voice dropping more.

“I wonder…” you say, nuzzling your nose against the ridge in the denim, where you can feel him hard and getting harder still.  “When my daddy asks you what we do all day,” you say, flicking your eyes up to his, “do you tell him your dick spends more time in my mouth than in your pants?”

His nostrils flare with his next breath. 

You smile, victorious. 

“He still thinks you’re his perfect soldier, doesn’t he?” you ask.  “You can do no wrong.  Little does he know…”

“I do my job,” Felix says.  “And I do a good job.  Okay? That’s all that matters.”   

You start to open your mouth, one hand climbing towards his fly.   You stop with a gasp when he fists a chunk of your hair, tugging your head away from him.  It sends a hot shock rippling through you, flooding you with the recollection of all the times he grabbed your hair and pulled you closer, the times he cupped your head and put himself in your mouth despite knowing better, the number of times he fucked between your pretty lips and forgot to be proper, cursing so much it was practically poetry. 

This time he guides you away and you whimper miserably.  He does not loosen his grip, his fingers threading closer to your scalp so it both hurts less and holds stronger.   He knows better than to just let go.   He knows you perfectly.  You glare at him. 

“Look at me,” he says, because your gaze dropped to his bulge again.  “I said look at me.”   He tugs your hair so you obey, giving him your most annoyed expression.  “You’re listening, yeah?” he says.  He doesn’t wait for an answer.  “You’re going to go to your closet.  Get ready for bed.  Sleep.  You’re going to do that,” his voice turns frighteningly pleasant, “or I’m going to carry you over there and get you ready myself.” 

“Like when we were leaving the club tonight?” you ask just as sweetly.  “And you put me over your shoulder then, oops, something happened when we were in the limo, didn’t it?” 

He lets go of you, exhaling tiredly in a high-pitched breath.

“Where did all your pretty rings go, Felix?” you ask, reaching for his bare hand, usually adorned with rings.  “Did they fall on the floor in the limo when you decided you had to shove your hand up my skirt?”   

Leaving the club, you were both wired.  Felix was honestly justified in breaking that guy’s arm.  You purposefully chose the creepiest, shadiest guy in the club to lead on, knowing Felix would appear two seconds later to rescue you.   He always does.  No one else ever pays you any personal attention and your life is too complicated for romance, so you thrive on the feeling of someone caring enough to always find you – even if it’s literally his job. 

You also like getting mad at him for overreacting, but you like his overreactions.   Him twisting and breaking that creep’s arm honestly turned you on.  It also got Felix all worked up, a bit pissed because you were being irresponsible again but nonetheless heated.  You thought for sure he’d take you home and go crazy and fuck you in the foyer.  Instead he put up the limo divider and one-by-one removed his rings, giving you ample time to refuse before he covered your mouth tightly and slid his other hand up between your thighs. 

Of course, despite bringing you to the edge several times, he never let you finish.  Because he’s the worst. 

And now you’re all worked up and he’s shirtless and being a stupid, pretty, two-faced bitch.

“I—”  you start. 

He rolls his eyes and says, “I know. I know.  You hate me.  Now go.”

You get up, stomping all the way to your walk-in closet.  You can’t even slam the door because it’s a sliding one, but you make the biggest possible demonstration of closing it anyway. 

You get ready for bed.   You briefly consider dressing provocatively or even strolling out there naked, but in the end you decide to just dress in your ugly, comfy, over-sized t-shirt and march angrily back into the room. 

Felix is gone when you return, probably off to double-check the house security one last time before joining you.   You could try climbing out the window and down the terrace, just to be ridiculous, but he’ll catch up sooner than later and be even more annoying about it.   So you get into bed and turn off the lights, laying down with a huff, blankets pulled up to your chin. 

You get a bit dozy before Felix returns, the creaking door snapping you awake.  You look over your shoulder and watch him finally shuck the jeans.  He gets into bed in his boxers, removing his earrings once under the covers.  He puts on the bedside table, then double-checks his gun is in the drawer, then and then only then does he lay down. 

The big bed leaves an ocean of space between you.  You roll over to face him.  His eyes are closed but there’s no way he is already asleep. 

“Felix,” you whisper, even though the big house is empty, “I’m cold.”

“There’s another blanket in the closet,” he says without opening his eyes. 

You slide across the bed, close enough to reach out and put a hand on his chest.  He opens his eyes and stares straight up. 

“I need a cuddle,” you say.  “Or I’ll have nightmares.” 

“You’re not a child anymore,” he says. 

That is maybe one thing you miss about the time before you and Felix started… this.  When things were still innocent between you, he would often let you snuggle up with him.  Now, he keep his distance.  Now, he doesn’t hug or hold you. 

So no one does.    

“We’re still young,” you say, a dumb argument, but you’re tired and out of ideas. 

“I was never as young as you,” he grumbles, more to himself than you.  He seems to realize what he said and shakes his head.  He pats your hand on his chest then rolls over, leaving his back to you. 

You slowly return your hand to yourself, staring at the back of his head with an uncharacteristic prickling of tears. 

Felix doesn’t talk about his life before this.  You just know that it was somehow worse.   Worse than being a watchdog.  Worse than giving up years of his life to protect someone else.   Worse than the times your father wanted to discipline you but learned that if he hit you directly you would just patch yourself up and move on, but if he hit Felix then you would break down and offer anything to make him stop.  

You can see a couple faded scars from those times, faint lines that cross his back, remnants of old belt lashings.  You touch one now, tracing your finger lightly from one end to the other.  You watch a shiver roll down his spine.   He doesn’t turn around. 

Giving up, you roll away, back to your distant side of the bed.  You close your eyes and will yourself to sleep, but it just makes you well up with tears.  You sniffle, rubbing your nose messily on the back of your arm.    

Fabric rustles.  You suck in a breath when Felix slides up behind you, pulling you into the middle of the bed where he holds you snugly in his arms.   You immediately roll to face him, throwing a leg over his hip and burying your face in his neck. 

“Sweetheart,” he says, nothing else. 

“I hate you,” you say, then press a kiss just under his jaw.

“I know.”  He cups the back of your head as your kisses move down his neck.  “I know.” 

You make it to the middle of his chest before he turns you onto your back and gets up over you.  He kisses you properly, thumbs wiping your tears as his mouth makes you forget about the reason you cried at all.  All that matters is kissing him back, wrapping your legs around his hips and pulling him close as possible.  His sounds of pleasure are so deep and rough and rumbling. 

“Fuck me, please, please,” you say, pushing your fingers into his hair. 

He groans, pressing his forehead to yours. 

“You know we can’t do that,” he says. 

“We’ve done it before,” you say, purposefully canting your hips to rub against him, reminding him you are still so hot and wet from his finger-fucking, that only stupid underwear keeps you apart.  It has the desired effect, his brow furrowing as he holds himself still above you.  You peck his lips and string your arms around his neck.  “You know I’m on birth control now for that reason,” you say, a little sweetly, smiling up at him.  “Remember?”

He drops his face in the crook of your neck and makes an even crazier sound, shaking his head. 

“That was very, very irresponsible of us, you know,” he says. 

“Mhm,” you say, sliding your hand down his body to his waistband.  “It really was.  But it felt good, didn’t it?   Dangerous.  Coming inside me like that.”

Felix is right; that incident was very irresponsible.  You had already started your little cat-and-mouse game and ran out of condoms one night.  Because the two of you only have sex with each other, when that happened, you usually just fooled around until he pulled out. 

That time was… a lot.   You were pressed so tightly together and you were being painfully quiet because you weren’t home alone.  It was such a stupid time to mess around, but common sense leaves you when Felix is involved. 

That feeling is mutual.  Felix knew better too.   If he got you pregnant… the fallout with your father would be catastrophic for both of you.   Still, for that moment he was inside you, with your fingers laced together and pressed by your head, with your legs tight around him and his face in your neck, nothing else seemed to exist.  You were two normal people who were allowed to do whatever they wanted with whoever they wanted.  It was a breathless, momentary fantasy, holding him tight and telling him to come, shuddering at the noise he made as he did just that.   You didn’t even panic after the fact.   You let the moment linger for as long as it could, still pretending you were normal, still pretending it was fine. 

You started birth control soon after, telling your father it was to regulate your period.   He waved it off, not wanting to hear more.  

Your father has truly never suspected a thing.  He doesn’t see the people around him as people, just objects, so it makes sense that he sees nothing in Felix but a soldier.  He doesn’t know anything about Felix.  Doesn’t know the pattern of his freckles or how his eyes crinkle up when he smiles.  Doesn’t know he has a sweet tooth and will dump a thing of sugar in nearly everything.  Doesn’t know what he finds funny, doesn’t know what makes him sad, doesn’t know anything at all.  

You drag your calf up the back of his leg.

“Felix,” you say. 

He gives you no chance to say more.  One second you are in limbo, the very next he has shoved down both his boxers and your underwear and is already pressing into you.  Only nonsense leaves your lips after that, your eyes closing as he works your body like a familiar and well-loved instrument.   He knows it as well as you do.  As you do his.  It’s easy to work him up, to get him as close as you. 

“I know what you’re doing,” he says, changing position so he’s kneeling.  He puts one of your legs up against his chest, levelling you with an amused smile.  “You’re trying to get me to finish first,” he says. 

“What? Noooo…”  Your giggle turns into a gasp.  You can be as loud as you want but you bite your fist anyway, hiccupping with a choked back sob of pleasure when he finds an angle that makes you see stars. 

“Yes, you are,” he says.  “But you won’t win.” 

“I will,” you say.

“Uh-uh,” he says. “Sure.” 

He makes you come twice before he does.  He even starts pushing you towards a third but you are so oversensitive that it makes tears fall.  He cups your chin and looks at you, cursing. 

“You’re so mean,” you say, smiling through your tears.  “Getting off to me crying.”

“I’m—not—I just—”

“Liar,” you tease.  “You totally are.”

He just giggles.  Then he flips a switch and goes from cute to something else, grabbing your throat and fucking into your oversensitive pussy so good and hard that you cry out.

“Shhh, sweetheart, it’s okay,” he says.  “Got you.  Got you.  I—”

You kiss him and he comes, sinking into you with dick and tongue and breath, filling you and surrounding you.  

You hold him close, arms tight around him, his sweaty forehead pressed to yours.   When he tries to lift away, you pull him back, making him laugh softly. 

“Stay,” you say, and repay his torture by squeezing him inside you, knowing it will make him twitch and jerk with oversensitivity of his own. 

“You never make it easy for me, do you,” he says with no animosity. 

You shake your head and smile like you’re proud of that.  He laughs then kisses you.   The kiss is good and thorough and sweet, completely loving, affectionate.  It gets your heart racing despite everything you just did.  You rest your hands on his chest and gently push him back. 

“I still hate you,” you say, because you have to say it, because the opposite would be too dangerous to ever say.  You can’t even let that word enter your thoughts, certainly never let it leave your lips.  If you held that word in your mouth for even a second, you would become addicted to it.   So you glare at him with all passion you can muster and say,   “I hate you so much.”   You sniffle when he wipes your tears away.   You turn your face.  “I hate you more than I’ve ever hated anyone.” 

“I know,” he says in a strained voice.  He presses his forehead to your temple and exhales.   “I know, sweetheart.” 

[dawnoftime22]

lullaby.

| T.S

Warnings: no talking from R, a very light nightmare, and panicked/fast heartrate

Summary: Taylor was doing her work in the middle of the night while you slept, until you had suddenly received a nightmare, leading to Taylor to help you fall asleep.

Word Count: 1k

Category: Fluff

A/N: you guys...I hit 500 followers and I'm BEYOND in disbelief. I'm so so happy I wanna squeeze each and every one of you in a hug!! I loooove you all sm - I'm thinking of doing a special for it, although I would have to push myself a little and get my motivation back up. who knows, I'm hoping to maybe do a comfort week where I post comforting fics each day in a week for the times that anyone needs them :]

| Started on 28/06/2024, 2:26 AM |

| Finished on 28/06/2024, 8:30 PM |

Main Masterlist | T.S Masterlist

“My, my, your gentle voice, oh, to be softly soothed with as I fall asleep.”

|——————————— ⸆⸉ ———————————|

You were asleep, laying on the bed with your breathing deep and soft. It was quiet, a peaceful atmosphere as the cats, too, were sleeping.

Taylor was still awake. But it wasn't without reasons, as she had emails and work to do before tomorrow arrives, and also a melody stuck in her head too.

She had told you to sleep before her earlier, just because she knows you've had a long, exhausting day as she did. Even though you tried to stay up to accompany her, it was obvious you weren't able to keep your eyes open, so, a few minutes of cuddling had you sleeping within seconds.

The laptop screen made her squint through the dimly lit room, reading the words of a document, or her notes she had to check for anything she's forgotten.

A yawn escapes her mouth, and as her fingers made the keyboard keys clack with her typing, she felt herself getting sleepy.

Her eyes travel to the clock. It was 2 am. The night was still young, really, for any nights she's ever wanted to stay up for. But she wouldn't deny some sleep for now, especially with you already in slumber.

Deciding she needed at least a break, she makes sure everything is saved and mostly done on her laptop before looking to the side to grab her phone.

The screen was unlocked after seeing a picture of you and her, with Meredith, Olivia, and Benjamin at the bottom. A smile raises upon her lips, her eyes going to your, thankfully, still sleeping figure.

She closes her laptop and set it aside before scooting closer to you slightly, then returning to her phone. The screen shows instagram loading up, and she uses her index finger to scroll, seeing posts and stories of her friends and other celebrities.

The gentle hum of her voice quietly sounds out, a smile still on her face, which raised up further at the sight of one of your posts; a photo of your hand, intertwined with hers, but a small cat paw joined in, atop the back of your hands.

She remembered when that happened. It was when you were sitting on the living room couch together, watching a movie. Taylor had reached your hand up to leave a soft kiss, and was about to settle it back down comfortably, when Benjamin's fluffy paw had come out of nowhere to touch your intertwined hands.

She scrolls a bit more, seeing Gracie's video of the fire in her kitchen. Again, Benjamin had come into the scene, but he was confuzzled with what he walked into. Taylor didn't even notice he was there when the situation was happening-- especially not when she was cursing at a fire extinguisher hoping her house wasn't going to burn down while Gracie was mindlessly holding up her phone.

She went to type a comment to the video, her thumbs hovering over the digital keyboard, but just as she did, she saw the smallest movement of your stirring in the corner of her vision.

Taylor senses the chance of your awakening, and her eyes lock onto your face with concern. But then, you had jolted out of your sleep with a sharp breath, your eyes snapping open.

Even with her surprise, she catches herself to gently wrap her arm around you, careful not to scare you further as she pulls you closer.

You look around panickly before you felt her hand moving in a soothing rhythm at your back. You find her blue eyes in the darkness, and she could see the vulnerability gleaming in yours.

Her face softens, and her hand moves up so she could gently make you lean against her forehead. "Shhh, it's alright." She whispers, letting go of her phone to wrap both her arms around you, making sure her phone was beside her instead of in between the both of you, just in case she accidentally moves atop it.

With a slow, gentle breath you let out, you snuggle close to her, your nose brushing against her neck, tickling the skin ever so slightly.

Although she was concerned, she could see it in your form; you were calm on the outside, but your rapid heart told otherwise. It was clear. You had a small nightmare, but thankfully not one enough to terrify all your being.

Taylor looks down, tilting her head to take a little peek at you. The tiredness and sleepiness was still in your eyes, the yawn that escapes your mouth told it further.

She smiles softly, turning to lay a soft kiss against the side of your head. Her hand was kept on your back, moving in a soothing motion still.

Minutes passed by, the white noise of the fan and A/C sounding through the room, and her own yawn coming from her mouth.

With a check on you again, she saw your eyes half open, but also not fully closed. The movement of your hand fiddling on her necklace also was a clear sign. You were having difficulty falling back asleep, and she knew you needed a small push.

With a gentle deep intake of breath that she releases slowly, she closes her eyes, leaning into you. A soft hum starts to quietly sound from her, a familiar melody that had your bleary eyes traveling up to her.

"I spy with my little tired eye, tiny as a firefly..."

"A pebble that we picked up..."

"Last july..."

All that filled the space now was her whispered words, starting to lull you to sleep. Her hands lovingly run through your hair, in hopes that it will calm you. With the melting relaxation of your body, it indeed did.

"Down deep inside your pocket,"

She smiles softly, looking at you once more with a warm smile, even while she too, was sleepy, it almost made it even sweeter.

"...We almost forgot it..."

"Does it ever miss wicklow...sometimes?"

Your eyes had grown heavier, and she watches as they finally close. Your breaths dissolve into a steadier, slower rhythm, and her humming matches with the timing.

"Mm, mm..." She hums softly, continuing on with her lullaby, until she too starts to fall asleep herself, joining you in slumber.

They said the end is coming...

Everyone's up to something...

I find myself runnin' home to your...sweet nothings...

Outside, they're push and shoving...

You're in the kitchen, humming...

All that you ever wanted from me was sweet nothing.

-----------

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[vintagelasvegas]

Silver Palace (1956), 32 Fremont St, Las Vegas. Later became Carousel Club, Gambler's Hall of Fame, Sundance West, Sally Sally's, and Mermaid's.

Timeline of Silver Palace to Mermaid's, 1956-2016

Silver Palace was built in place of the W. R. Thomas building. 32 Fremont had six different casino names over its 60 years. It was demolished to make way for Circa Las Vegas.

SILVER PALACE ('56-'64)

'54-55: The casino is planned in ’54. The W.R. Thomas building on this corner is deemed unsafe by the city and demolished in Jan. ’55. The casino also takes the place of Silver Cafe, closed Jan. ’55 after being sold to the casino group by owners Sui Mong Fong and Kim Fong.

'56: Silver Palace premiere opening is 5/25/56, with grand opening 6/8/56. Spinning Wheel Corp is the owner with over 20 licensees. Earl Snyder, president. Zick & Sharp, architect; Lee Linton, interior design. The casino is modern, with the city’s first escalator, casino, restaurant, and slot machines designed to resemble medieval castles. Signs by Heath Sign Co of Los Angeles. The casino is open only six months, closed by IRS, Nov. 30.

'58: Silver Palace reopens, 5/20/58, operated by Marion Hicks and parters of the Thunderbird. The restaurant is Louigi's Broiler.

'59: Silver Palace and Louigi's Broiler closed 6/30/59.

'61: Silver Palace reopened by Myron Lewis, 5/5/61.

'63: Lewis remains property landlord as Melvin Axler group takes over Silver Palace business in Oct.

CAROUSEL CLUB ('64-'74)

'64: Renamed Carousel Club in Aug; Whiskey A' Go-Go in the basement floor. Carousel Club closed 9/23/64.

'65: Carousel Club reopened by B. Mclaney group in Jun. Carou-Cellar discotheque in the basement in Jul. Building sign changed to “McLaney’s Carousel.”

'67: Carousel Club licensees change to Salvator A Rizzo, Robert Ayoub, Rocco Paravia in Apr. American Federation of Casino and Gaming Employees leader Tom Hanley accuses the casino of taking orders from hidden owners, prompting Gaming Board investigation; AFCGE pickets the club in Aug-Sep. Owners close on 11/19/67 citing IRS charges.

'68: YESCO sues Carousel owners for unpaid sign lease in Jul. Marty Kutzen as Marlee Inc. buys the club with a Teamsters loan, reopens 8/30/68. “McLaney’s” removed from the sign.

'69: Al Garbian buys Marlee Inc, Carousel Club.

'73: Deil Gustafson buys Marlee Inc., Carousel Club.

GAMBLER’S HALL OF FAME ('74-'76) SUNDANCE WEST ('76-'79)

'74: Carousel’s name changed Gamblers Hall of Fame in summer; remodeled by architect Lee Linton, and Ad-Art designer Charles Barnard.

'76: Gambler’s Hall closed 2/4/76 after bankruptcy petition is filed against the casino by a lender. Al Sachs buys the casino out of bankruptcy in May. Sachs reopens as Sundance West, 7/1/76. Facade updated, signs by Ad-Art.

'78: Cosmo's Underground restaurant opened by Tony Calabrese in the lower level of the building.

'79: Sundance West sold to Herb Pastor, closes for remodeling in Dec. Facade updated, signs by Ad-Art.

SASSY SALLY'S ('80-'99) MERMAID'S ('99-'16)

'80: Reopened as Sassy Sally's, 4/1/80. Sally was the name of Pastor's babysitter.

'94: Cosmo's Underground closes.

'99: Casino remodeled as Mermaid's.

'06: Pastor sells Mermaid's, along with Glitter Gulch and La Bayou, to son Steve Burnstine (Granite Gaming Group).

'16: Burnstine sells Mermaid's, along with Glitter Gulch and La Bayou, to Derek and Greg Stevens. The property was demolished in 2017.

Casino to Replace Oldest Building Erected Here. Review-Journal, 12/29/54; Songs May Open New Cafe. Review-Journal, 1/4/55; Appeals Group Told to Study Building Case. Review-Journal, 1/20/55; At Long Last. Review-Journal, 2/1/55; Silver Palace to Open Friday. Review-Journal, 5/24/56; Silver Palace Opens Doors on Fremont Street Friday. Review-Journal, 5/25/56; T-Men Close Silver Palace Doors. Review-Journal, 11/30/56; New Group Negotiates for Casino. RJ 7/1/59; Casino Center to Use Silver Palace for Meets. Review-Journal, 11/20/60; Carousel Padlocked by Owner. Review-Journal, 9/24/64; City Approves Carousel Licenses. Review-Journal, 4/6/67; Roy Vanett. Hidden Casino Owners Block Talks - Union. Review-Journal, 8/10/67; Gaming Pickets Hit LV Carousel. Review-Journal, 8/25/67; State Eyes LV Casino. Review-Journal, 9/26/67; Carousel Club Closes: IRS Demand Blamed. Review-Journal, 11/20/67; Carousel Wins Okay. Review-Journal, 8/30/68; Associated Press. Board OKs Nugget, Carousel stock sales. Review-Journal, 7/12/73; Garbian to be active in casino activities. Review-Journal, 12/27/74; Al Sachs hold keys to Gamblers Hall. Review-Journal, 5/3/76; Closed Down. Review-Journal, 12/7/79; Opening. Review-Journal, 3/9/80; Charles F. Barnard. The Magic Sign. ST Publications, '93.

[solaiced]

CASE 16: GETO SUGURU'S PUBLIC PUNISHMENT.

!content!: not proof-read/beta-read, non-con from geto's perspective, he doesn't know you like it, well he tries to convince you, but you're already convinced, public humiliation, good? ending, and cnc.

wc: 940

solace: sigh.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

You have officially lost it. You're cooked, as Nana and Mimi would say. Because if you weren't, why had you thought of your own cult leader using you? Without your consent, in front of the whole cult, then woke up wet. Why? Because you're crazy. Absolutely crazy in-love with—FUCK! Get him out of your head!

He's basically your boss and him treating you slightly better than the other members just because you're a sorcerer doesn't mean he’s inlove with you. Anyways, enough of that.

You were getting ready to go to work, aka; go to his temple, get curses for Master Geto as he asked and purr silently as he praises you. God, you loved when he praised you. Adored the way he carried himself and spoke your name softly, smiling while he did so.

You were absolutely, madly—Late! You glanced at the clock, reading 8:06. While you thought about your alluring and captivating leader, you were also late for said leader's morning attendance meeting for the first time ever!

But it's okay, right? It's not like he'd punish you for being late once. Right? Right.

————

"Hgk! Ngh, Geto-Master-hng!"

You moan, legs up in the air as Geto thrusts up into you, arms locked under your knees in a full Nelson position.

All of this. All of it, because you were late. Your master grunts behind you, in your ear. His whole face was red, exerting himself to punish you, make an example out of you. And, fuck, if you didn't find this so fucking hot.

The way he moaned se freely in your ear, mumbling almost degrading stuff to you, as if you guys were alone. Yeah, he was also fucking you in front of the whole cult. You felt déjà vu from this.

“M-Master Getohh~!” You whine, back arching dangerously. All he did, however, was adjust his hold on you and eye the crowded room, er sharp glint in his dark, glazed, purple eyes. Oh, those eyes.

"If you cum before I tell you to, you will be punished like this all the time. Understand, lovely?" Geto asks, but he didn't need to.

You were already nodding, tongue out as you try to not drool while looking at your comrads.

"So obedient, dear. I might-hah, wife you up," he huffs in your ear.

"You'd like that, wouldn't you?" The way you clenched around him was answer enough as he chuckled. You didn’t expect this.

No, you expected the punishment as the others had. This was humiliating in every sense of the word. But maybe, someone would believe you if you weren't so wet, the production of his pre and your slick oozing out of you and dripping onto the floor like a faucet leaking endlessly.

"Darling, Look at me, book at your God.” Your master demands, teeth bared in a snarl. You've never seen someone more attractive.

This was exactly what happened in your wet dream. Down to the last detail. From the way your coworkers’ mouths were agape to the way the monkeys watched your shivering form like they deserved to see their master fuck.

“This is probably what happened in your dream, hm?" He huffs, bringing your legs together so that they would be closed. Wait, what?

Your pussy lips bulge around him, pretty red clit on display for everyone to see.

“Yeah, pretty girl. I gave you that little dream. Made you late.” Geto chuckles breathlessly, “and now I made your dream come true.”

"Look at you, my devotee... So cock-drunk, you love my dick, don't you?" You nod, tongue too lax to even speak.

“Cum with me, okay, darling? " Again, a throaty whine to acquiese. Geto smiles against the shell of your ear, balancing both of your legs by slipping his arm under your knees and using his free hand to abuse your sensitive nub, stiff from pleasure.

A harsh cry rips out of you, trying to break free from your leader's rough fingers. He was too strong, removing his hand momentarily to block your arms between your back and his chest.

"Don't you dare try to escape me," he warns as he pinches your clit, shaping your mouth into an ‘O’.

“Now, cum, I'll fill you up, make your belly round with the strongest kids ever conceived, hm? Put those monkeys to shame and make everyone-hgk! Kne-kneel b'fore us, hm?" You hear his breath hitch, a groan following it.

A few more watery thrusts, a flick of your abused clit, and the dam bursts. Your eyes cross, and had you not been held up by Geto, you would've collapsed.

You don't think you've ever cum so hard in your life, nonetheless with a man. It's only too late that you feel his cum sloshing around in you, eyes wide open. The crowd wasn't there anymore, dismissed by the Master.

You are placed on the soft tatami mat gently, hands kneading your thighs and legs to avoid soreness.

"I want you to come to my office every morning before the morning assembly," Geto's voice wakes you up from a trance.

"Need you to help me forget that I work with pathetic monkeys everyday." He confesses, covering your leaking hole. He kisses you ever so softly, like the fluttering of a bird's wings.

"You... do?" You ask, eyes closed due to exhaustion, missing his beautiful smile, a genuine one.

“Yeah. You don’t mind, do you?” He knew you didn’t, but he still asked. It boosted his ego.

“I don’t, Master Geto.” You mutter, clinging onto his robes, shivering uncomfortably.

“Please, call me Suguru when we’re alone.” His gentle smile turns sly, covering you up.

[arduouslove]

Loving You isn't Hard to Learn 06

genres: hybrid, romance, found family, slow burn(ish) series rating: mature (mentions of/references to death and abuse. eventual smut) chapter warnings (may contain spoilers): mentions of death. accusations of drugging/roofie-ing. descriptions of injury to the face. the reader character cooks meat; if you don't eat meat, please think of it as them just cooking it for other people. relationship(s): ot7 x female reader

In the middle of what many would call nowhere, a sign glows bright yellow. Old, unmaintained, and on its last legs, the letter e flickers for a few seconds before going dark. H aven’s Door Motel, it now reads.

prev | chapter six (12.0k) | next

The floor is cold when you wake up on it, though not as cold as it could be, so you must've been sleeping on the floor for at least a couple hours. As you sit up, you try to get on your knees, but find your legs tangled up in half of a throw blanket. You grumble, touching one hand to the side of your head, where you had to have laid directly on the floor rather than the throw pillow you can see pushed under the coffee table. Okay, you're definitely not telling Hoseok your head kind of hurts. He's already enough of a worrywart. Speaking of...

Looking up at the couch, you see Hoseok's sleeping face smushed against the cushion, his hair ruffled all over and his mouth slightly open. Upon closer inspection, a small wet spot of drool has grown on the couch cushion directly under his mouth. You grimace at that but quickly shake the split second of disgust away. It's just saliva; it'll wash out just fine.

You untangle yourself from the blanket, and when you stand up, you drape it over Hoseok's sleeping form as quietly as you can. Yawning, you head to the kitchen, first filling your kettle and turning it on, then moving to the other side of the counter and unplugging your phone from the wall. As the screen flicks on, you see a missed call from Lee Minhyuk from only a few minutes ago, and a text from him that followed soon after.

It seems I forgot to leave one last thing to you. I found it in our storage this morning. I'll be in my office all day if you'd like to come and pick it up. Otherwise, please let me know by phone call.

As professional as always, this guy. Glancing over at the microwave, you take note that it's only 8:56AM, which isn't that early for someone like him, but still. Lee Minhyuk is punctual, you'll give him that. Well, you suppose if you head out soon, you could get back before ten, depending on what it is Minhyuk forgot to give you. Some paperwork, maybe. He did say before that Mr. Jung had liquidated everything he owned other than the motel... You wonder what it could be.

Not wanting to wake your two house guests up, you stop the kettle before it can beep to signal that it's boiled and pour the hot water over a tea bag in a to-go mug to let it steep while you get changed. You sneak on tip-toes back to your room, and you move your hand as deftly as possible on your bedroom doorknob, focusing on your feet as you step in and close the door behind you. Bee-lining to your dresser, you tug off your pyjamas and pull on some fresh clothes as quietly as you can.

But when you turn around, Jimin is sitting up in your bed and looking at you with a frown.

"Oh my gosh!" You jump and pat a hand over your heart, taking a sharp breath in at the sudden sight of him. He barely reacts, just raising one of his eyebrows at you, his bottom half still snug under the comforter. "How long were you just sitting there?"

Eyes still half closed, Jimin says, "Long enough."

"Oh. Well..." Embarrassment trickles along your veins knowing he watched you trying to quietly sneak in. He looks too tired and uninterested to care about the fact that you changed right in front of him, though. There goes your confidence in your own sex appeal. "...Did you sleep okay?"

"It was fine." His words come out short and curt, and you can't quite pinpoint why, but you get a weird feeling as you try not to narrow your eyes. He flips the covers off himself and swings his legs over the edge of the bed, using his hands at his sides to push himself off and stand. His eyes dart around your room. "Where are my clothes?"

You blink. "Oh. They're in a hamper in the bathroom. I was planning on putting them through the wash and then making something to eat." Of course, stopping by Lee Minhyuk's office threw a tiny wrench in those plans, but still, you weren't expecting this from Jimin as soon as he woke up. Whatever this is.

Just as he tries to exit your bedroom, you move to stand between him and the door, your hand held up. Jimin stops himself before either of you touch, and he frowns slightly when you go, "Whoa, hold on. What's the hurry?"

"I have to go back."

"Go back?" you echo, confusion tinged in your voice, but Jimin doesn't bother. He gently puts a hand on your wrist and moves you out of the way, which you let him do all too easily in your stupor. Go back? To the streets? Blinking and shaking yourself out of it, you turn to follow him into the bathroom, where you watch him find his dirty clothes at the top of the pile in the hamper. "What do you mean?"

Jimin doesn't look at you as he focuses on unbuttoning his pyjama top. "She's looking for me."

Sputtering, you completely miss the fact that Jimin is taking off his clothes right in front of you. "Rayoung?"

Even though he doesn't answer you, the determined look in his eyes tells you you're right. He slips on his old clothes and pushes past you again.

"She is?" You struggle to follow both him and his words, stepping into the main living space after him. "How do you know--"

Jimin whips around, and you almost bump into him, but your feet screech to a halt directly in front of him. He glares at you with those piercing brown eyes. "She loves me," he says.

Your mouth opens and closes like those dogs in kids movies they'd feed peanut butter to so it'd look like they were talking. You can't say what you think, no, that would be too harsh. You can't just say outright that someone who loves him wouldn't leave him to live miserably like he did. But, what can you say? You don't want him to go back to where he was, even if what he thinks of Rayoung is true... not when you have something within likeness of a solution so close to falling in your grasp. You were planning on going to the motel this evening with Hoseok -- and, ideally, Jimin -- to scope out the building better and finally figure out what the hell you're doing.

"Jimin..." You hold yourself back from reaching out to him, knowing that your touch might be the last thing he wants. "At least eat something..."

"I'm not hungry," he tells you, and with the conviction he puts behind the words, you almost believe him.

"C'mon, at least a bite--"

"No!"

Jimin's sudden volume startles you, and your eyes go wide as he pushes both hands against you, causing you both to stumble back a step. You stare at your feet for half a second before looking back up at him, a breath of a laugh tainted with disbelief puffing past your lips. "What--"

"Don't come any closer!" He wraps his arms around his chest and scrunches his eyes shut. "I don't know what was in that fucking tea, but you can't keep me here." His back turns to you. "Rayoung was right. I can't trust anyone."

Completely thrown off, you straighten up slowly, his words settling in your brain. "...Excuse me?"

Jimin says no more, simply standing there in the foyer with his back turned, shielding himself from... you.

Roused from his deep slumber, Hoseok appears next to you. His hair is tousled and pressed flat against the side of his head that he slept on, but the sight isn't as endearing as it would be if you weren't so baffled by what Jimin just said. Taking one step in front of you, Hoseok puts a hand on your arm before you've even realized you went to get closer to Jimin, one hand up and pointed at him.

"You--" Hoseok's firm grip on your arm stops you from getting far, and as he pulls you partway behind him and your shoulder bumps into his back, you lower your voice to a whisper. "You think I drugged you?"

With his head down low, Jimin still refuses to respond. His entire body trembles, fear coursing through him like rapids under his skin. Even you can see it.

But something fogs over your rationality.

"Are you serious right now? I didn't-- I would never--" You try to take a deep breath, but it gets stuck in your throat and only serves to fuel this ugly feeling inside your chest. "You're delusional."

Hoseok hushes out your name, a warning of sorts, or maybe something closer to a plea. You don't hear it past the ringing in your ears.

"And it's not because of anything in my fucking tea," you continue. "No, you know why you're delusional?"

Hesitantly, Jimin turns around half-way, his frowning profile causing that awful roiling in you to flare up.

"Because even though you've been living on the streets for months, starved enough to root through restaurant trash bins, abandoned by the very person who supposedly loves you--" Something flashes across Jimin's eyes, but you have no grasp of what it is. "--you still think she's coming back for you."

No one says anything for a second -- too long, and Hoseok's hand slides down your arm and gently wraps around your wrist. You tug it out of his grasp with a sharp inhale. "So let's just go," you say, walking to where you keep your car keys. The jingle-jangle as you pick up your keys is the only sound in the apartment aside from your footsteps. "I'll take you right now. Near Antonio's, right? She left you around there and that's where you think she'll go looking for you?"

Hoseok softly calls your name again, but you don't hear him. Jimin only follows you with angry eyes.

"I was on my way out anyway," you continue. With your hand already on the doorknob, you slip on your shoes. "So yeah, I have no problem with dropping you off on your own with nowhere to go." You pull the door towards you and step out, eyes still on your feet. "Where you have no sure way of getting food."

Jimin doesn't look at you as he puts on his shoes.

"Where Hybrid Services already know your face--"

Your words choke to a stop when you look down the hall towards the elevators. That damned fluorescent yellow armband you had no business caring about a couple days ago -- two of them -- appear in your sight just a few metres away, directly in front of the apartment-next-door's open entrance, where your neighbour to the right, Anne-Marie, is talking to the two officers.

Without uttering another sound, you push Jimin back inside your apartment as quickly and overtly as you can. Unfortunately, this means you achieve that by shoving your hand in Jimin's face, but your head isn't exactly in the right place to think about hiding-someone-away etiquette.

"Wha--?! Stop--!"

"Shh!" You make frantic eye contact with Hoseok while Jimin glares daggers at you. At this point, you know you can't just go back inside yourself; both the officers and your neighbour have probably seen you already. You keep your voice as quiet as you can, hoping the boys can still hear you with their weird hybrid powers. "Both of you, not a peep. Got it?"

You don't wait for either of them to answer before you grab the doorknob and swing the door shut in their faces. As soon as you look back down the hall, both officers, a man and a woman, and Anne-Marie are looking at you.

"Good morning," you greet with a slight bow, completely unsure of what to do or say next.

Would asking some sort of question be suspicious? Or would trying to walk by and ignoring them be even worse?

Either way, you have to get to the elevator...

Before you have to decide, (or maybe after you already should've, considering the awkward silence,) Anne-Marie waves you over with a slight frown. "Leaving so early today?"

"Ah..." You nod at her with a strained smile as you walk up to her and the officers, making sure to smile and nod at them too in that weird, you're not really part of this conversation but you're standing here so I'll try to include you sort of way. "Yes, I have some errands to run this morning."

Anne-Marie doesn't question you, thank goodness, and just gestures towards the officers. "Well you should hear them out before you go," she says. "Apparently there's a feral hybrid on the loose."

"Feral hybrid?"

You don't have to fake the initial look of concern that appears on your face, but the way you deepen your frown at the flyer one of the officers hands you is definitely for show.

"Yes," he confirms, face stiff and almost bored from repeating the words so many times to all the residents in the building already. "He ran away from a hybrid clinic in the city and was last spotted in this neighbourhood."

Anne-Marie nods along as he speaks and shakes her head when he points out the area the hybrid was spotted last night on a small map included in the flyer. "So close to home..." she mutters, which he ignores.

Continuing after him, the female officer speaks up. "We're doing rounds to make sure everyone living in the area is aware of the risks of a feral hybrid, as well as inform everyone of the proper procedure."

"Which is...?"

"Do not approach," the man tells you as your eyes finally focus in on the two pictures of the feral hybrid, one from the front and another of his profile. In both photos, he's smiling, eyes bright. "It's dangerous for regular citizens to attempt to capture feral hybrids. Leave it to the professionals and call Hybrid Services upon encounter."

He doesn't look so dangerous.

His smile is wide and almost boyish, like someone told him he was posing for a photo op rather than the strange hybrid-version of a mug shot it actually is. He holds up his name placard like it's an award he's proud of. "V," it reads, then a bunch of numbers underneath. His animal ears are perked straight up, and you can't tell what kind of ears they are in the grainy black-and-white pictures, not to mention how small they look compared to Hoseok's. Still, the deepness of his smile, the happiness in his eyes and the scrunch of his nose -- you're not scared at all.

You don't say any of that, though.

"I'll keep an eye out, thank you," you say with a polite smile. "What kind of hybrid is he?"

The two share a look, the female officer grimacing before she turns back to you. "That's unfortunately classified information."

"What? Why? Wouldn't it help us be safer and more prepared if we know what he looks like?" You turn to make eye contact with Anne-Marie, who drinks in your words and nods with a slight frown towards the officers, a finger propped concernedly on her chin.

The man sighs. "As much as I agree with you, these pictures are the only images any of us have to go off of. Even Hybrid Services hasn't been informed of his sub-species. It's private information belonging to the clinic, and legally, we don't need to have it to apprehend the hybrid."

"I see..."

After thanking them again and giving your due goodbyes, you do your best not to turn around and watch the officers as you wait for the elevator. You step into the elevator, and as your finger finds the button for the ground floor, you peak down the hall and let out a breath of relief. The officers seem to have skipped your door because you already spoke to them.

It would probably be suspicious to re-enter your apartment so soon while they're still patrolling your floor, you think. The last thing you need right now is Hybrid Services finding a reason to look into you.

And, maybe, you need a minute to yourself. Just to breathe.

You hadn't meant to snap at Jimin like that, it just... So much doesn't make sense to you. You've barely had Hoseok around for a few days, but you feel as though your friendship is something already. Maybe not something to be proud of, exactly, but it's something.

Jimin... you've known him for even less time, if you could even call that "knowing" him at all. And yet, you felt this strange surge of protectiveness over him.

You really hope that isn't part of the saviour thing Hoseok spoke of before...

Sighing into the empty elevator, you try not to think about the fact that it probably is, and instead focus on what is right in front of you. Your car keys are still in your hand, the shape imprinted into your palm from how hard your nerves had made you grip them between your fingers while you talked to the officers.

You take the coward's route and run away.

Lee Minhyuk's office building isn't that far in terms of distance, but the traffic around it is pure hell. It gives you much too much time alone with only your thoughts. You try to drown them out with whatever is on the radio, but even that can't seem to calm the disquiet within you. The more you think about the things you said, the more regret builds in your gut. What right did you have to say those things to Jimin? Sure, you think it's a fool's dream to believe this Rayoung girl is out there searching for him, but to purposefully shut him down like that? To crush that dream just because you got offended by emotions he was completely valid in feeling? Just because he's been scarred by humans before and you happen to be one? It's not his fault that he thought you might've drugged him, it's a product of--

"Ah, you're here."

Blinking, you realize that your body went on autopilot and walked you up to Lee Minhyuk's office without you knowing, and you watch his back as he goes to sit at his desk.

"Yeah I... got your text," you say dazedly, unsure of anything else you could possibly say in the moment.

"Well, it's good that you came. I wouldn't want you to go without this." Minhyuk holds his hand out, and you step closer to his desk to let him drop whatever the thing he forgot is in your awaiting palm.

A single key stares up at you, attached by a small ring to a simple metal tag.

Silver Meadows Columbarium, it reads.

"Oh."

Moving the key to your fingers, you flip over the tag and read lot C 258 on the back. You'd never heard of Silver Meadows Columbarium before. Never needed to...

"I believe Mr Jung set up his..." Minhyuk pauses as he mulls over his word choice. "...accommodations before he passed."

You can't help but ask, "Just him? No family, or...?"

Your words trail off, both of you knowing that Mr Jung left you as his sole beneficiary. If he had family, he didn't leave them anything. Not even the location of his remains.

Minhyuk shakes his head, and you frown.

"He prepared for his own death all by himself?"

Your concern is met with a small, understanding smile on Minhyuk's face. "Well, he may have done the paperwork himself, but he wasn't alone. He had you."

"But I--" You hardly knew Mr Jung.

"He brought you up more than once," Minhyuk says, making you close your mouth and blink stupidly at him. At your silence, he continues. "He came to my office a few times to sign the papers and whatnot, and he mentioned you every time. Always said you're the only one who laughs at his jokes."

"They're funny!"

Your own response jars you a bit. The last time you said that, you thought Mr Jung was alive.

Minhyuk only smiles again, softly. "He was happy you thought so."

"Did he say that?"

"Not in so many words, but I it wasn't hard to tell. Don't get too caught up in the fact that Jung didn't have blood relatives he wanted to include in his will. Evidently--" He gestures to you. "--he had a family of sorts."

Except that you weren't it. You couldn't be, right?

A seedling plants itself in the forefront of your mind.

A seedling named Hoseok.

That's must be it -- Mr Jung wanted to leave his estate to Hoseok, but couldn't figure out how to, legally. Hybrids probably can't even have bank accounts, much less accept inheritance, which is why Mr Jung defaulted to you. He trusted you to help Hoseok start up Heaven's Door as the legal owner of the land it's built on.

In his letter, he'd said it's that it's you, whatever that means.

You look down at the key in your hand, taking a deep breath in. It might not be the key to Heaven's Door Motel, but you clutch it in your fingers, and as you step out of Lee Minhyuk's office, you make a silent promise to Mr Jung.

You'll get Heaven's Door up and running.

And you'll do a damn good job of it too.

=

When you return to your apartment, you have a brown paper bag of fresh pastries in your hand and a heavy something in your chest. You tried to figure out what you want to say to the two hybrids in your place on your way home, but it's hard. You feel like all you keep doing is messing up. Now, you even ran off without a word after seeing the Hybrid Services officers, which had to have freaked Hoseok out.

You grimace as you twist the doorknob. Less than an hour ago, you'd resolved yourself to running Heaven's Door with everything you've got, but are you really the right person for the job?

When you enter, you go to call out for Hoseok, but you freeze with your mouth partially open. The guys stand ramrod straight in front of you, Hoseok with a slight smile and Jimin with a hesitant clench of his jaw, arms crossed. You gape at them for a couple seconds until Hoseok frowns at Jimin and jabs his elbow into his side.

"Ow! What the--"

"Don't you have something to say?" Hoseok prompts through his teeth, a harsh grit to the question.

Jimin huffs, his arms shifting in front of his chest, hands holding his own arms a little tighter. He meets your eyes. "I'm--"

"Wait." You hold up a hand to stop him, not missing the confusion that flashes across Hoseok's face. Something like panic reflects in Jimin's eyes when he sneaks a glance at Hoseok, but you don't acknowledge it. "Let's talk." With the hand still holding the paper bag, you gesture towards the couch. "Have a seat. Both of you."

Jimin doesn't move until Hoseok does, following silently while Hoseok watches you out of the corner of his eye as he sits down.

You set the pastries on the kitchen table before making your way to them, stopping in front of the couch and chewing over your thoughts. Jimin regards you with a half-frown, brows knitted in apparent distrust. You can't really blame him.

If your ears were better, you might've heard the slight gasp Hoseok let out when you dropped to your knees, bent down, and pressed your forehead to your hands, which are now flat on the floor. You bow in front of them, let out a breath, and raise your head once you gather your thoughts, putting your hands respectfully on your lap. "I'm sorry," you say. "I fucked up."

Hoseok's ears twitch, dipping, and he scoots forward on the cushion, about to say something, but you don't let him.

"Jimin, I want to apologize for this morning. I had no right to react the way I did." You look at Jimin, but you can't read his face. "It's not your fault if humans have hurt you enough to make you think we're all the same. People can be... horrible. I wish things were different, but... I want you to know that I will never intentionally hurt you--" Your eyes meet Hoseok's. "--either of you. I'm not going to punish you. I'm not going to force or coerce you into anything you don't want to do. I don't want to be the kind of human you're afraid of."

Hoseok shakes his head. "I'm not afraid--"

"I can't promise I won't fuck up again," you say, wincing as you realize you've spoken over him, but when he doesn't speak up again, you continue. "I honestly feel like a walking disaster with how many times I've fucked up, and it's only been a couple days. Sometimes I speak before I think, and I really need to work on that. I'm sorry."

You don't know when you started staring into your lap, but you let out a long breath, and only after that do you slowly look up at the two hybrids. They both wear blank expressions, and it makes you want to shrink back in on yourself. "I just--"

"I lied," Jimin blurts out, and you face him, eyes slightly widening.

"...Lied? About what?"

Sighing, Jimin casts a glance at Hoseok, who nods determinedly. He fidgets with his hands, looking at them rather than meeting your eyes. "I guess, technically, Rayoung isn't looking for me right now," he mumbles. "But she will. As soon as she breaks up with her stupid tool boyfriend."

"Oh." You blink at Jimin. "Well, um... You're welcome to stay with us. Until then, I mean."

Jimin's lips form into a contemplative pout, but he says nothing.

You scratch the back of your neck. Is there a good way to approach this? "We could, um... let her know somehow? That you're with us."

You eye Hoseok, who's hopefully in the same boat for you to be saying we. He wasn't exactly Jimin's biggest fan last night, weird possessiveness over pyjama sets aside. Now, though, you see that even he can tell this Rayoung girl is bad news. Still, Jimin's ties to her seem to run deep, and you know it's nowhere near simple to tell someone a person they love isn't as great as they thought.

Jimin takes a deep breath in, his shoulders scrunching up as his body tenses and relaxes. "Can I... think about it?"

"Of course!" You perk up at the idea of him even considering your offer after the way you snapped this morning, and you point at the brown paper bag on the table. "Do you want to have breakfast while you think?"

While Jimin marks a straight line to the kitchen, Hoseok holds his hand out for you before you even move to get up. You take it, and he uses his other hand to gently grasp your elbow and lift you onto your feet. He doesn't let go right away, instead holding both your hands and whispering, "You shouldn't have gone out alone." He rubs his thumbs over your knuckles. "You're still concussed."

The proximity combined with his concern for you causes heat to stir in your chest. It's uncomfortable and foreign, so you try to force it down, smiling and letting out a chuckle that screams casual. You hope. "I can hold my own. Besides, I think I'm all better; right as rain up here." You pull one of your hands out of his tender hold and curl it into a fist, knocking on your cranium like a door. Except, the impact makes your brain swish around in your skull like gargled fluoride. "Whoa-- shit."

You sway, tipping the direction you knocked your own head into. Hoseok keeps you standing, but he doesn't like it. "You just proved my point."

"Listen--"

"From now on, no going off on your own," he says, and from his tone, there's no point in a rebuttal.

You roll your eyes, and, whoa, does the room always spin when you do that? Still, even wooziness can't stopper your sarcasm. "Protective much?"

"Kind of my job description."

"I thought I was your bodyguard," you tease, and he chuckles, his seriousness evaporating with the sound.

"As if--"

"You're dumb."

You and Hoseok both turn towards the kitchen, where Jimin stands next to the table with a half eaten pastry in his mouth. Ignoring the glare he's under from Hoseok, which you don't notice, he speaks around the pastry. "Only a dumb person would go out on their own in your condition."

Even though you're pretty sure he should be on the same side as Jimin on this, Hoseok sneers at him, the slightest of growls rumbling in his throat.

Jimin holds up a hand, mockingly. "Easy, pup."

"I'm older than you, punk!"

You can't help it; you laugh. Jimin is all over the place, accusing you of atrocities one second and talking to you and Hoseok like you're long-time friends the next. The two hybrids cease their bickering at the sound of your laughter.

"Okay, okay." You take a breath to stop the giggles threatening to break past your lips. "New temporary house rule: no one should go off on their own unless they have to."

Jimin raises a brow. "No one?"

"Ideally." You nod. "Which brings me to the next thing I wanted to talk about. When the Hybrid Services officers were here before, they were telling everyone there's a feral hybrid in the area. The entire neighbourhood is going to be on alert-- I don't know how kindly they'll take to finding any unregistered or, uh, stray hybrids if they run into either of you alone."

Nodding along, Hoseok rubs his chin with his thumb. "Makes sense."

"They know what the hybrid looks like, but we don't know how much they actually care about the picture. Who knows if they'd just nab any male hybrid off the street," you say. "It's probably best to play it safe; at least while we're still in the neighbourhood."

"What do you mean, 'still in the neighbourhood'?" Jimin asks, curious.

You smack your own forehead and ignore the way Hoseok immediately brings his hands up like you're going to knock yourself over any second now. "Right, uh... We're kind of..." Bringing up a hand, you gesture between yourself and Hoseok. "...prospective business owners? Is that--? No, we're, uh...starting up a motel? But, like, for hybrids?"

Hoseok is decidedly unhelpful with explaining what Heaven's Door is meant to be, staying silent and just making a face as you botch it.

"Anyway, it might be safer if we head out there sooner rather than later if the neighbourhood is getting paranoid over stray hybrids. It's outside of the city, and Hybrid Services doesn't do patrols out there. I was thinking to move once I'd figured more shit out, but I didn't think the whole 'feral hybrid' thing would happen today, and I definitely didn't foresee meeting you." Not that anything that's happened to you in the last few days could've been foreseen, either. You smile at Jimin. "But hey, at least you were a pleasant surprise."

"Didn't I threaten to kill you?."

You shrug. "I'm still here, aren't I?"

"And your guard dog attacked me."

"After you attacked her!" Hoseok argues.

Clicking his tongue, Jimin gives his head a nod. "Point taken."

"Anyhow," you continue on. "While you think about what you wanna do, I'd like you to come with us. Of course, you're free to refuse. I still have two-ish weeks of rent paid for this place, so you could stay here, but..." You share a look with Hoseok, then return your eyes to Jimin.

"...I'd be alone?" he finishes for you.

"I guess I'd just feel better if you're with us."

Jimin seems to absorb your words, but he stays silent for a few seconds. He tosses the last bite of the pastry into his mouth, chewing quietly and brushing his hands together to get rid of the leftover crumbs. He takes a breath. "I guess I sort of owe you for the food and the bed I slept in last night... The least I can do is make you feel better."

Your cheeks make way for a beaming smile.

"Just while I think about it."

You school yourself. "Right! Right," you say, clearing your throat of any enthusiasm that might've gotten clogged in there. "Just while you're thinking about it. Nothing's set in stone."

=

Either Hoseok calls shotgun outside of your hearing range, or Jimin silently sits in the backseat of your car out of some unfounded sense of regularity. He doesn't speak a word as you drive, just watches the world pass by through the side window. You can't really see him in the rear view mirror, and most of your focus is on the road, but there are a few moments where you catch his fingers scratching at his arms before he flexes his hands and stops. You're reminded of the red, bumpy skin you saw on his arms. Now, it's covered by his shirt and jacket, both of which you convinced him to let you wash before you all left your apartment.

"I don't think this is the right way..." Hoseok says, squinting at the street signs as you drive out of the inner city.

"Yeah, uh." You'd looked up the address to Silver Meadows before you left, and it's practically on the other side of the city as Heaven's Door. "There's somewhere I wanted to go first. You know how I left this morning?"

Hoseok nods.

"Well, it wasn't just to throw a tantrum, if that's what you were thinking."

"I thought maybe you were trying to get those Hybrid Services officers to think you were going somewhere, so they'd think no one was in your apartment," Hoseok says, making your eyebrows rise on your forehead.

"Wow, you're pretty intuitive, aren't you?" Your eyes dart to the backseat, but you can't see Jimin's face since he's sitting right behind you. "Were you guys able to hear that whole conversation in the hallway?"

Jimin scoffs, something sarcastic in the simple sound, while Hoseok nods again. "It's weird how even they don't know the species of the feral hybrid," he says. "Without that information, they'd go after any stray hybrid they encounter -- not that they weren't doing that already."

"But they might treat any stray like they're feral and dangerous," you finish the thought process for him, and when you meet his eyes, he sports a grim expression. You roll your shoulders back, sighing. "It's a good enough reason to stay on our toes, but hopefully we won't run into any trouble outside of my neighbourhood..."

And, hopefully, the feral hybrid doesn't get found by anyone less than civil. The cheerful face of that hybrid flashes across your mind, and you wonder about his circumstances. What makes a hybrid go feral, anyway? What made him run away from the hybrid clinic? How much of the information the officers gave you is a stretching of the truth?

"So where did you go?" Hoseok asks when you make another unfamiliar turn.

"Lee Minhyuk texted me -- he was Mr Jung's estate lawyer." You add that in to give Jimin some context, but you're not sure if he's even listening. "He forgot to give me the key for Mr Jung's niche."

Hoseok's brows furrow as he echoes you. "Niche?"

"It's what they call the individual sections in a columbarium," you explain, not too informed yourself, but you know enough. You take Hoseok's silence as him not filling the gaps quite yet. "Mr Jung's urn is being kept in one. Lot C, niche 258, at Silver Meadows Columbarium."

"Oh." Hoseok doesn't exactly slump in his seat, but you see the way his shoulders sag just the slightest. "He was cremated?"

You nod, eyes still on the road. "Yeah... I hadn't thought about it much. I'd assumed his family was dealing with all the..." Breathing out a long exhale through your nose, you try to think of the right words. (And come up with nothing.) "...well, that kind of stuff. But apparently I'm the only one with the key."

"Mr Jung never talked about any family..." Hoseok mumbles.

A road sign ahead reads Silver Meadows, and you slow down to turn into the lot.

"You're not bringing flowers?"

You turn your head at Jimin's sudden question, surprised since he was quiet the whole drive. He meets your eyes.

"You're visiting a grave, and you didn't bring flowers?" he asks, arms crossed.

"Oh." You look downward. "I hadn't thought about that..."

Jimin doesn't say anything, and you've run out of words yourself. Does it make sense to go back to buy some? You think about Mr Jung, and far above wanting to go get flowers for him now, you wish you could've brought him one back then. When he could see it.

You find a parking spot and switch off the engine.

"It's okay," Hoseok says before any of you exit the car. He's not looking at you, though. "We can bring flowers next time."

You watch him step out of the car, and as he does, he pulls his collar out of his pocket and fastens it around his neck, clasping the metal ends together before he shuts the car door behind him. Before you'd left the apartment, you told him to bring it, but you forgot about it during the drive.

"Oh, right. Jimin." You twist in your seat and reach into your bag, finding the red velvet choker you'd stuffed in there earlier. You've never really worn it since someone gave it to you however long ago, and you just hastily grabbed it from your room before you all left the apartment. You hold it out for him. "Wear this for now. It's not technically a collar, but... no one will be looking too closely. I hope."

Jimin frowns, but he takes the choker. "Can't I just stay in the car?"

You don't want to pressure him, but you can't help the grimace that crosses your face. "I feel safer together..."

"Fine," he huffs, bringing his hands up to fasten the choker. "You're lucky this is cute."

By the time you both catch up to Hoseok, he's already found the directions to lot C. He walks silently, and when he finds niche 258, you and Jimin hang a bit back, giving him a moment.

This section of the columbarium is indoors, and the walls and niches seem to be white marble, or made to look like white marble. Whichever it is, it feels a bit... cold.

Mr Jung's niche is empty, save for the black urn inside. Jimin was probably right -- some flowers would at least bring some life to the space.

Hoseok stands in front of the niche, which is embedded in the wall at around the height of his chest. His arms hang limp at his sides. You step up beside him, and you take his hand, gently, bringing it up so you can push the key into his palm.

"I think he meant to give this to you." And everything else, you want to say, but you hold your tongue. That's a lot to put on someone all at once.

You would know.

Hoseok holds his hand in front of him, staring at the key. He looks up at you and meets your eyes with his watery ones. "You think so?"

"Of course I do." You put a hand on Hoseok's shoulder, your thumb rubbing back and forth over his coat. "You said Mr Jung never talked about any family, right? That's because you were his family."

Sniffling, Hoseok bites his bottom lip to stop it from trembling as he breaks eye contact and returns to looking at Mr Jung's niche. "I... I wish he wasn't this far away. He made it so much harder to visit."

"Hey..." Gently, you use your hand on his shoulder to turn Hoseok toward you, then put both your hands on his arms and give him a reassuring squeeze. A tear threatens to roll down his cheek, but you reach up at thumb it away. "I know you probably knew Mr Jung better than I did, but... something in me thinks he'd want to say..." You turn your head to look at the niche, smile, and shake your head. "He's not in there." Bringing a hand up, you softly poke the pad of your pointer finger between Hoseok's eyebrows. "He's in here." You move to his chest and poke at where his heart should be. "And here." Finally, you take both his hands, a bit awkward with the one still holding the key, and hold them between you. "And that's what matters, right?"

Hoseok nods, but his face crumples up, and he tucks it into your neck. You wrap your arms around him just as his embrace you tight. Over his shoulder, you glance at Jimin, who quickly looks away, but you know he was watching. He stuffs his hands in his pockets, suddenly very interested in his worn out shoes.

"But we can still visit, right?" Hoseok mumbles into your skin, bringing your attention back to him.

"Of course. And next time, we'll bring flowers."

=

As you slide into one of the parking spots in front of Heaven's Door, it occurs to you that this is the first time you're seeing it in the daylight. All of its mediocre glory. The outer walls are a faded yellow, with supporting pillars and railings on the second floor landing which were once white. The doors to the individual rooms are a nice dark green that matches the roofing, but you have to admit they've seen better days. Still, you can feel the potential the old building blooms in your chest.

"Not too bad, hey?" you say to Jimin, who's leaning forward between the driver and passenger seats to peer out the windshield at the place.

He sniffs. "It's no Plaza Hotel."

"You've been?"

"No, I've seen Home Alone 2."

Chuckling, you pull your car key out of the ignition and exit the car. You put your hands on your hips, inhaling a big, exaggerated breath as you take in the motel. Hoseok walks over and stands next to you, arms crossed.

"Well," you say. "It might be a bit of a fixer-upper, but that's nothing a couple of fixer-uppers like us can't handle, right?" You bump your shoulder into Hoseok, who smiles at you and bumps back with his hip. You stumble a bit, but Jimin's hand on your back stops you from swaying too hard. When you take your eyes off your feet, he meets your eyes with a plain expression.

"You guys are disgustingly optimistic."

A hand on his shoulder, you grin. "You just named one of my best traits!"

=

The move into Heaven's Door is by no means smooth, but you can't say it's not something you expected.

The first thing you notice is the broken window in the convenience store under the motel lobby, which you'd missed that first night in the dark. Hoseok sheepishly admits that he'd had to break in to eat the snack food inside. You don't push it -- that void of time between losing Mr Jung and meeting you isn't a topic you think is worth diving into if it's going to bring Hoseok back to that time. The window won't be cheap, but if you don't put a custom decal on it like the shattered one on the ground, it might not be as expensive.

Secondly, Hoseok leads you and Jimin to the master room you remember Mr Jung mentioning in his letter, and you realize you'd only seen the motel from one side. Behind the lobby, which has a lot of that same forest green as the doors outside, Hoseok shows you the half of the building you had no idea about before. An entire branch extends behind the lobby, about the same length as the front, but instead of the entrances to each room facing outside like the ones you saw before, there are doors mirroring each other on both sides of a hallway. Immediately to the right is the master room, but at the end of the hallway seems to be a common area with couches and coffee tables, and two walls lined with a counter and cabinets. Hoseok tells you it's the same downstairs, except the end of the hall is a kitchen and dining area. It reminds you of a college dorm.

If anyone stayed in the rooms you saw out front, you don't think they'd even notice this half of the building.

The master room is smaller than your apartment, but it has its own half-kitchen and en suite bathroom with a pretty nice shower. Hoseok explains to you that most of Mr Jung's time and focus went into building and upgrading the interior of Heaven's Door, which is why it has its less than shiny exterior.

You can tell Hoseok was staying in the master room up until you... kidnapped(?) him.

"This is probably the nicest room in the motel, huh?" Jimin posits, walking inside with his hands in his pants pockets. He's wearing the clothes he met you in, now washed but no less worn down.

You nod. "Probably. We're a bit far from the city, so it would make sense for the owner to just live here."

"Dibs." Jimin flops down face first into the bed.

Hoseok crosses his arms. "Yah."

As you fail to hide your laughter behind your hand, Jimin squirms in the bed, twisting himself so he lies on his back. He stretches his arms and legs out like a sea star. "Smells too much like dog here, though."

While Hoseok sneers, you say, "Probably because this is Hoseok's room. You and I can take the rooms next door and across the hall."

"Why would I wanna be next door to you?" Jimin closes his eyes and interlocks is fingers behind his head, fully relaxing into the bed.

You let out an affronted scoff. Your hand goes up to your chest, right over your heart even though Jimin can't see it. "Um, my amazing company and charming personality?"

"Pass."

As you and Jimin go through this back-and-forth, you miss the way Hoseok's face fell when you said you'd be in a different room. His disheartened expression goes unnoticed, and when you stand up, proclaiming there's a lot of work to be done, he smiles at you with all the sunshine he can muster.

You're none the wiser.

=

Aside from the horrors (the mere idea of business management, the building maintenance, the absolute atrocity that is dealing with plumbing, the phone calls, etc, etc,) at least it's fun to print keys. Hoseok apparently never figured the system out because Mr Jung took care of getting it installed, but half an hour on the computer, and you manage to print a key for both yourself and Jimin. He chooses the room across from the master, while you're right next to it.

Hoseok insists on him and Jimin carrying all the food you'd brought inside, but to appease your need to take part, he lets you carry one item for each trip from your car to the common kitchen area. (You find this a little patronizing, but it is admittedly nice to be doted on by them both, even if Jimin's still pretending he doesn't care.)

((He takes a bag you were reaching for, despite already having both his hands full.))

Much of your things are still back at your apartment, but you have time to bring them over. The first day is mostly about getting Hoseok and Jimin out of dodge -- you can worry about your own problems later. You spend the afternoon sitting in the lobby, poring over the paperwork left there and googling motel business 4 dummies like your life depends on it. Hoseok, who'd been cleaning up his room and taking care of the broken glass outside (and inside, unfortunately) the convenience store, forces you to take a break in the form of helping him make dinner.

During dinner, unprompted, Jimin tells you he's still thinking.

It hasn't slipped by you, of course, that Jimin's stay with you is conditional and, lest you hope otherwise, temporary.

But when he says that, staring into his food rather than looking at you, a tiny smile makes it's way onto your face,

"Take all the time you need."

=

On the third night, you wake up to soft knocks on your door. You have no expectations because your brain is in the process of trying to dissect the dream you'd just been ripped out of, but seeing Hoseok on the other side of your door still isn't something you were prepared for. He's wearing the new, new pyjamas you'd bought for him in a sparse shopping trip you'd all gone on the second day, despite him saying he didn't care that much about Jimin wearing the other ones.

You go to say his name, but he just brings a finger up to his lips in a silent shush, and with his other hand, he gently takes your hand and leads you down the hall into the master room.

Nothing in your body wants to fight it, so you let him bring you right up to the bed. He practically pushes you onto it, but the way he pulls the warm comforter over you defies any ill intent. When he settles in on the other side of the bed, his breath puffs against your cheek. He hasn't really scented you since the day you met Jimin; you've been near each other almost constantly since, so there was really no reason to.

You remember him telling you it's about separation, but also not. He never did tell you more about it.

In your sleep-ridden haze, you shift to your side. Hoseok is on his side too, rather close, and his eyes are closed, but you know he can't have fallen asleep so fast. Gently, you bring a hand to the back of his head, careful, as always, not to touch his dingo ears. You pull him closer ever so slowly. If he resists at all, you'll let go.

Hoseok lets out a shaking breath. He wraps both arms around you and tugs you closer, his face pressing itself against your neck. Eyes still closed, he squeezes you close. It's warm.

That's right, you think.

He’s a strong little pup, but he hates being alone.

How did you manage to forget that?

=

If Jimin has anything to say about the fact that you've started to retire to the master room at the end of the day, he doesn't vocalize it. Hoseok never brings it up, either. He's hardly touchy during the daytime, keeping his hands to himself, especially in front of Jimin. Yet, when night comes, he pulls you to bed like he's done it his entire life and keeps his arms around you until you fall asleep and wake up to find him all tangled up in the sheets.

Jimin either hasn't noticed, or, as you suspect, he doesn't care.

He'll often say he's "still thinking about it". You're not quite sure how to respond to it every time, so now you just smile and nod, sometimes reminding him that the choice is still his.

One night, you find him in the common area, sitting on a couch and watching a muted cartoon on the tv you'd connected to your Netflix account the day before. The subtitles aren't even on, and when he turns at the sound of your footsteps, you see the red of his eyes, and the shining tracks on his cheeks.

There's still a lot you don't know about Jimin.

Rayoung. Her boyfriend. His red contacts and why he wore them.

"It's freezing in here," is all he says as he wipes his cheeks with his sleeve. "You should get the heating system checked."

You sit down next to him, neither of you looking at each other. "Feels normal to me."

The cartoon isn't one you recognize, but it looks like it could be fun if you knew what anyone was saying.

For a while, you and Jimin say nothing. He sits next to you, and you next to him. At some point, he shifts just the slightest bit closer so your shoulders brush against each other. That's as far as he goes for your body heat.

"Do you get cold easily?" you eventually whisper.

"Mhmm."

"Is that a snake thing?"

Jimin shakes his head, slowly, the late hour finally getting to him. "Some reptile hybrids are like that, some aren't. There aren't many of us, so people don't really know why. At least... that's what he told me."

He. You decide not to dig into that. Jimin will tell you if he wants to.

"Your scales... the skin around them seemed irritated."

"...Itchy..." Jimin's head falls to your shoulder. He doesn't snuggle in, but he rests there. "I had a cream for it..."

"We should buy some," you say.

"It's expensive... You shouldn't buy it if I'm going to leave soon..."

Though his words cause a muted ache in your heart, you don't stew on it. That was always the case.

"You can take it with you."

Jimin doesn't respond, asleep on your shoulder.

You're not sure how much time passes, but later, you hear light, shuffling footsteps behind you, and you turn your head towards the sound, careful not to jostle the slumbering Jimin on your shoulder. Hoseok stands there, eyes half closed but on you nonetheless.

"You left," he mumbles, swaying slightly like he's struggling to stay both awake and upright.

You give him a small smile, lit only by the tv that's still playing that cartoon you don't know the name of. "I didn't go very far."

"Come back to bed?"

Gently, you lift a hand and gesture at Jimin. "Can we bring him back to his, first?"

=

When you're sent the invoice for the window repair, you realize (not for the first time) this won't be easy.

You didn't think it'd be a walk in the park, of course not, but you've never really had to worry about the cost of running a business before. Now, you look at the numbers, and you just can't wrap your head around how it'll all work. Mr Jung left you a considerable amount, yes, but... will it be enough? You can't imagine the motel is in any high level of traffic area for travellers. There are quite a few campsites around in the surrounding forest, but that's about it. How many customers would it take monthly to support the motel? How much has to or even can be sacrificed before any income is made?

You've already spent so much on keeping you, Hoseok, and Jimin alive and warm for the past week. It's normal, you suppose, but you've never supported two dependants before, and the fact that you're currently unemployed doesn't settle the heavy feeling in your chest at all. You're draining your savings while not making any money in the meantime.

A safe haven for hybrids...

...who can't pay rent.

Maybe Mr Jung was older and more senile than you thought.

You shake your head and rub your hands over your face, resting your elbows on the desk in front of you. First, you gotta apologize to Mr Jung for disrespecting the dead. You might be cynical, but he had a dream. A really good and nice dream. Secondly, you scold yourself for thinking what you did about hybrids. Of course they can't pay rent. They were born into a system that actively discourages their financial (and pretty much every other kind of) autonomy. They can't pay for anything because of humans.

Still, you don't know how long you can keep running Heaven's Door on your inheritance alone. You haven't even opened yet -- how much will it cost to run for a month? Three? A year?

"Do the numbers change if you sigh hard enough?"

You turn in your swivel chair to glare at Jimin, who's sitting in the chair next to you with one leg folded up to his chest, foot propped up on the seat. He doesn't return your gaze, enraptured by the match-three game he's playing on your phone, which he's been going at rather consistently for the past two days. You don't really have a job for him right now, and aside from the tv, he doesn't have much to take up his time. You'd offered to grab the contents of your bookshelf back at home for him, but he'd casually refused, telling you he'd take a look next time you make the trip, but not to go out of your way.

"Maybe they will," you taunt back, which goes just as ignored as your glare. "I better sigh harder to test it out."

You tilt your head, looking at your phone in his hand. "Should I get you guys phones...?" you ask, mostly to yourself.

Jimin's eyes glance up, and he finally acknowledges you. He doesn't need to say it. He does anyway.

"I'm still thinking."

Curling your lips in, you nod, turning back to the computer and hovering your hands over the mouse and keyboard even though you have no plans on what to do with them. "Right. Right..."

Thankfully, Hoseok chooses that awkward moment to walk into the lobby. "You should take a break," he says. "How is your head feeling?"

"It's fine, doc." You roll your eyes, smiling. "Just as fine as I said it was yesterday."

"Have you been taking your meds?"

You shake your head. "The doctor said they're for headaches. They're just painkillers -- the few times my head has hurt, the pain went away by the time I remembered I could take them."

Jimin lowers your phone and gives you a look you can't quite decipher. It's not positive; you know that at least. "You're still getting headaches?"

"Only itty-bitty ones," you try to placate them.

"How long has it been since you fell?"

You almost forgot you lied to Jimin about how you got your concussion. By the looks of Hoseok's guilty expression, though, you're not sure if you regret it. You don't want him to feel responsible, but talking about it -- whether or not Jimin knows -- still seems to remind him of what he did. Where you put the blame doesn't matter to him. He still thinks it's his fault.

"Uhh... a little over a week?" you answer, keeping a careful eye on Hoseok. "Maybe eight or nine days."

Jimin frowns. "That can't be good, right?"

"The doctor said to go back to the hospital if the symptoms last over two weeks." Concern laced in his features, Hoseok crosses his arms.

You nod along. "I'll put the date on my calendar, okay? I'm sure I'll be fine by then."

"You better not play it down when the time comes," Hoseok warns.

"Yes sir," you joke.

Hoseok takes in a sharp breath, shoulders scrunching up for half a second before he forces them to relax. A small huff of a laugh escapes Jimin's nose, and you look at him in confusion, but his eyes are on Hoseok, something playful and teasing in them. Jimin mouths something to Hoseok, which you can't read.

Hoseok grumbles and tightens the arms crossed in front of him. "Shut up."

"No fair," you whine. "You guys already have inside jokes?"

Jimin just laughs harder while Hoseok gives him a death glare and says, "It doesn't count as an inside joke if I don't find it funny."

"Don't worry," Jimin teases through a smirk. "I find it funny enough for the both of us!"

You can't help but smile at the ever-growing amity between the two hybrids, which is admittedly playful in the biting way, but it still makes you happy that they're somewhat getting along.

=

"We should celebrate," you tell the boys one day.

"Celebrate what?" Jimin questions, hands stuffed in his coat pocket and shoulders scrunched up to his ears.

You'd gone around the back of the motel and found a paved, patio-like area, complete with five wooden picnic tables, propane patio heaters, and an old-looking but (probably) functional barbecue, but Jimin isn't exactly a fan of the cool breeze flowing through the air.

You lift the lid of the barbecue, examining the charred grates of the grill. "Well, I dunno, but it'd be a shame not to use this before it gets too cold out."

"Too late," Jimin mumbles. His lips are hidden behind the front of his coat, which he's ducked half his face into.

Hoseok ignores Jimin, nodding at your idea. "A barbecue night would be nice."

"How are you on the grill?" you ask him.

"I'm better at prepping."

You chuckle. "So basically, not good?"

"Not good," he echoes with a smile.

After sharing some giggles, you look at the barbecue again. "I'm sure I could figure this out."

"I'm going back inside," Jimin tells you both, already walking away.

"C'mon!" you call after him. "It'll be fun!"

=

Although you're in a different store now, near the edge of the city closer to the motel, the pet/hybrid aisle hosts a pretty similar collection to the store near your apartment. You pull another plain, black collar off the hook on the shelf, which matches the one currently sitting around Hoseok's neck.

He's not paying attention at all, as far as you know, instead hunched over the pushbar of the shopping cart he insisted on pushing for you, poring over the grocery list you'd written on a memo pad for tonight's "celebration".

In your mind, you've started calling it your "new friends party :D", emoticon included, but you haven't worded that out loud to either of the boys. Hoseok would surely laugh at the childishness of the name, even if he'd politely try to stifle it, and you know Jimin would only remind you that his relationship to you and Hoseok is temporary.

Mood killer, you think to Jimin, although it's the hypothetical version of him.

The real Jimin is looking at the array of collars on the shelf like you asked him to, and you step up next to him.

"What do you think?"

Jimin frowns, deep in thought. "They're all ugly."

Okay, maybe not that deep.

"Ouch," you chuckle, fingers toying with the black silk in your hand. "You don't have to wear one all the time -- just while we're in public spaces like this."

Grumbling, Jimin stuffs both his hands in his coat pockets. "In public... that's when I wanna look good."

"Okay, okay." You pat a hand on his shoulder. "Maybe we can find one you like online, or something."

"Doesn't this one work?" Jimin points at his neck, fingers ghosting over the soft velvet of your red choker.

You tilt your head. "I guess... Probably."

The tags for collars have to be bought and customized separately anyway. There's no reason why you wouldn't be able to put Jimin's on your choker, though attaching the tag might not be as simple as the store-bought collars. Manageable, though, you're sure.

"If you're done being picky, we should get going. The frozen meat will be rotten by the time we get to the car," Hoseok says, making Jimin roll his eyes and stick his tongue out at him.

You clap your hands together. "Ooh! We should get ice cream!"

When you bring all the groceries to the counter, you notice that Jimin keeps his head down, avoiding the eyes of the person ringing everything up. This isn't new -- Jimin seems to not like making eye contact with anyone but you or Hoseok.

He'd tossed the red contacts after one of them had an intimate meet and greet with your bedroom floor, but you can tell he doesn't like being without them. It's awful, you think, how long he wore those fake red eyes just because his owner... what, enjoyed the idea of owning a deadly hybrid?

The... exoticism?

You shiver.

On the cusp of winter time, with Jimin in a couple layers, you wouldn't even know he's a hybrid if you weren't paying attention. As far as you know, his only hybrid-defining trait is his scales, and the only ones you can see right now are on his neck. They'd easily go unnoticed to the everyday passerby.

"Your total is--"

The cashier's voice startles you, and all you can do is shake your head when they ask if you have their points reward card.

Before heading back to the motel, you make a quick stop at your apartment, telling the boys that you're just grabbing some more of your clothes and that they can wait in the car. You do grab some clothes, but you also pick up a few of your favourite books. Hopefully the boys will be able to find some entertainment in them. Recently, you discovered a recreation room in the motel, complete with a couple of exercise machines and a pool table. With how preoccupied you are with all this motel business stuff, though, you haven't had the time to play a round of pool or even think about exercising. Maybe the boys have been in there, but it seems like Hoseok is almost always somewhere around you, still weary of your condition.

It's sort of fair, you think. Dizzy spells still hit you sometimes.

Jimin, too, often sticks around somewhere nearby. Maybe it's because he likes scrolling through your phone and doesn't want to just take it and leave whatever room you're in.

Which brings you to the real reason you stopped by your apartment. You walk up to the mailboxes and pull out your key, smiling when you open your locker and find the packages you were expecting.

It's a bit of a pricey expense -- at least, for how you used to budget your life before it flipped on its head -- but you think it's worth the money. A simple phone for each of the boys, a new family plan to save on the phone bills, and a specialty reptilian hybrid eczema cream. You hope it's the right one for Jimin. You haven't seen his irritated skin since that shower due to the chilly weather, but you still catch him scratching his arms over his clothes from time to time.

You're sure if you told Jimin you wanted to buy the cream for him, he would've refused. The phone, too.

"Took you long enough," Jimin says when you dip back into the driver's seat of your car.

You chuckle. "I missed you too, Mochi."

He huffs at the nickname and crosses his arms, then turns his head to stare out the window. You don't see his faint smile.

=

"It's freezing," Jimin complains through chattering teeth, hands stuffed in his coat pockets and shoulders scrunched up practically to his ears.

You can't hold back a little laugh. "I told you, you could either help me out here with the grill, help Hoseok with prepping everything inside, or run the raw food from the kitchen to out here." Raising an eyebrow at him, you gesture towards your gloved hands and the food you're flipping on the grill with metal tongs. It is chilly out, especially since the sun set, but you're wrapped up in your own jacket, and the fire from the grill is keeping your cheeks warm. It probably feels colder to Jimin, though. "You wanna trade with me?"

He gives you a flat look. "You're kidding."

"Thought so. You wanna trade with Hoseok?"

Cringing, Jimin shakes his head. "I hate touching raw meat."

"Well, there's our answer then," you say. "Was that the last of it?"

He nods, another shiver rippling through him. It's almost endearing how red his cheeks are turning, but you know he really can't stand the cold.

"Okay, go inside and warm up. I should be done cooking everything in ten or fifteen minutes. Bring this plate in--" You point at a foil-wrapped plate of the food you've already cooked. "I can bring the rest inside once I'm finished."

Jimin's eyes widen slightly. "I thought you wanted to eat out here?" He looks at one of the picnic tables.

"Nah." You shrug. "It's way too cold for me, and the food will cool down too fast."

Elated by this news, Jimin smiles and bounces on his feet when he grabs the plate and runs it inside.

"And help Hoseok clean up the kitchen!" you yell out right before the door shuts behind him.

Truthfully, you did want to eat outside for the celebration, but it's more important to you that Jimin is comfortable and happy. After all, he's one of your new friends, and that's the whole point of tonight. You smile at the thought, excited to gift the boys their new cell phones after dinner.

Flipping some of the last pieces of meat on the grill, you hum to yourself. Out of the corner of your eye, you see a hand reach for the plate you have set to the side for the cooked food. It tentatively grabs one of the slices of meat and pulls it off the plate, which you let out a chuckle at.

"What, you couldn't wait a couple more minute--"

You choke to a stop, though, when you look up and see neither Hoseok nor Jimin.

Dark eyes meet yours for less than a moment before swiftly turning downward. The man stumbles back a step, but he freezes in almost the same way you do. Except, instead of his jaw dropping open like yours does, he pauses mid-chew, the frisked meat still in between his teeth.

That's not what makes your breath hitch, though.

Even under the blackened sky, you can see the bruises.

A dark, deep purple sits boldly under is left eye, the surrounding skin a sickening blend of yellow and green that winds up all the way to his brow. His chin sports another bruise in a similar state, like the blows had been a couple days ago and the skin has gone through only the first stages of healing. Although his face is grimy with sweat and dirt, you can see crusted blood just at his hairline before his black hair hides anything else. You can tell his lip was completely busted at some point, marred with dark, dried blood that's been split over and over again and given no chance to heal.

Even his stance looks like he's in pain. Like he's trying to make himself look smaller.

You swallow the shock down, the words not coming out. "I..."

He snaps out of it at the sound of your voice. Both of his hands shoot up, palms flat and facing you. "Sorry-- I'm sorry," he mumbles and winces, like it hurts to speak. His voice is scratchy and rasping.

He backs up further while you try to find something to say, something to do, but before you can do anything, he runs off the patio and disappears into the treeline, a clear limp in his movement.

"Wait!" you call out, but he's gone.

Maybe it was the injuries that made you want to go after him. Maybe it was the way he held himself, like he didn't want to be in his own body. Maybe it was the way his voice trembled, or the fact that he definitely wasn't wearing enough for the temperature outside.

Maybe it was all that combined, but most of all, it was the pointed black ears you saw on top of his head.

prev | chapter six (12.0k) | next

[aleisters]

the next nine matches. ebb and flow. the first ppv paint. for a while it becomes more grey than the tendrils of black. once white starts to impede the tendrils re-appear.

at the end of 2022, start of 2023 (bottom row), the white vanishes. the black is the darkest it's been and starts growing. start of 2023, it changes again.

oops, forgot the matches. they're under the cut.

27/05/2022 AEW Dark #145 Las Vegas, Nevada, USA House Of Black (Brody King, Buddy Matthews & Malakai Black) defeat Adriel Noctis, Gregory Sharpe & Matt Brannigan (3:50)

29/05/2022 AEW Double Or Nothing 2022 Las Vegas, Nevada, USA House Of Black (Brody King, Buddy Matthews & Malakai Black) defeat Death Triangle (PAC, Penta Oscuro & Rey Fenix) (15:35)

22/06/2022 AEW Dynamite #142 Milwaukee, Wisconsin, USA AEW All-Atlantic Title Qualifying: Malakai Black defeats Penta Oscuro (9:56)

13/07/2022 AEW Rampage #49 - Fyter Fest 2022 - Tag 2 Savannah, Georgia, USA Kings Of The Black Throne (Brody King & Malakai Black) defeat The Dark Order (Alex Reynolds & John Silver) (8:18)

24/08/2022 AEW Rampage #55 Cleveland, Ohio, USA AEW World Trios Title Tournament First Round: The Dark Order (Alex Reynolds, John Silver & Ten) defeat House Of Black (Brody King, Buddy Matthews & Malakai Black) (9:03)

04/09/2022 AEW All Out 2022 Hoffman Estates, Illinois, USA Darby Allin, Miro & Sting defeat House Of Black (Brody King, Buddy Matthews & Malakai Black) (12:11)

14/12/2022 AEW Dynamite #167 - Winter Is Coming 2022 Garland, Texas, USA House Of Black (Brody King, Buddy Matthews & Malakai Black) defeat The Factory (Aaron Solo, Cole Karter & QT Marshall) (0:26)

28/12/2022 AEW Dark: Elevation #96 Broomfield, Colorado, USA House Of Black (Brody King, Buddy Matthews & Malakai Black) defeat Dean Alexander, Hagane Shinno & Rosario Grillo (5:20)

04/01/2023 AEW Dark: Elevation #97 Seattle, Washington, USA House Of Black (Brody King, Buddy Matthews & Malakai Black) defeat Ari Daivari & The Wingmen (Peter Avalon & Ryan Nemeth) (5:46)

[ganggangscenarios]

No Such Thing | Ch 8

01 | 02| 03| 04| 05| 06 |07| 08 |09

Drabbles:

I can & I will

Disconnect

Neighbours know my name

Summary: angst!! Things are getting dark

Warnings: This chapter heavily features emotional abuse

------------------------------------------

Jungkook had convinced you to join him and his friends for their usual bi-monthly brunch. He wanted you to meet all of his friends, you were the live of his life and the mother of his unborn child. He wanted to show you anthem that you were permanent thing in his life. 

At first you were reluctant, worried that they wouldn’t accept you, considering you were just some girl that he had accidentally impregnated and that they were all friends with Hyejin. They had only known Jungkook and Hyejin together, you heard the stories of group trips and fun nights in bars. And now you were parasite trying to work your way into their close knit group.

Jungkook held your hand as guided you into the restaurant. He spotted his friends from across the room and made his way through the crowded restaurant, with you in tow. 

“Hey guys, sorry we’re late, it was hard to find a parking space.” He says, as he greets his friends. The guys standing up to give him a brief hug, the ladies sitting in there seats as Jungkook’s presses a kiss on each of their cheeks. 

You awkwardly wave from behind him. Ever the gentleman, he pulls out your chair and waits for you to sit down before pushing you in. He takes his place at the table next to you.

“So what do you do for work?” The question came flying from your left side, leaving the dark haired woman’s glossy lips like a bullet.

Jungkook wraps his arm around you, furrowing his eyebrows his friend.

“We just sat down, shouldn’t we order first? Gotta make sure that mama and baby are fed.” He says in a joking manner trying to brighten the heavy mood that fallen upon the table.

You squirm in your seat as you feel all the eyes around the table fall on to your growing bump.

Instinctively, you cover your stomach with your hands.

“Yeah, how could we forget?” Another woman retorts, sarcastically.

The only friendly faces that you could see were Namjoon’s and his lovely girlfriend, as they offered you sympathetic smiles from the opposite end of the table.

The whole table completes their order and engages in small talk as you wait for the food to arrive. Once the food arrives, the small talk continues as you all eat. You enjoy seeing Jungkook around his friends, you didn’t want him ti isolate himself because of you, you knew he out a lot of energy and effort into your relationship. You laugh as Jungkook and Jin bicker. The men of the group were more welcoming than the women. You could understand, they were friends with Hyejin, who was more than convinced that you had stolen two men from her. It was more than understandable that they weren’t the biggest fans of you.

But sitting at the table with them made you feel like you were back in high school, like you were friends with one of the popular kids who invited you to sit at their table at lunch. In this case, the popular kid being your boyfriend. And the rest of their friends didn’t make you feel welcome, trying to exclude you every time you spoke. Giving their answers to the rest of the group, instead of you who posed a topic in the first place.

As the meal went on, it was getting harder and harder to be understanding, it was increasingly harder to not let your feelings get hurt. You were doing a pretty good job at keeping your emotions hidden until the leader of the girls beckoned a waiter over.

“Would you mind taking picture of us?” She hands him her phone.

She quickly asks the waiter to hold off, she slowly looks at you, fake smile already plastered on her perfectly painted face.

“Would you mind standing on the side?  I just want a picture with my friends, plus we don’t know how long you’ll be in Jungkook’s life, or our lives, so…” She trails off.

You take a sharp breath in, the remark deeply wounding you. Before Jungkook could get his arms around you or say anything in response, you excused yourself to the bathroom. Tears threatening to fall down your cheeks, you quickly walk into the ladies bathroom and let a few tears out.

It too everything in you to come back out, but you thought about Jungkook, you were doing this for him. You knew that if you spent anymore time hauled up in the bathroom, he would come to get you.

Wiping your tears, taking a deep breath, you head over to the table. You stop in your tracks as you hear the conversation increase in volume, each of the women at the table firing retorts at Jungkook.

“Its true! You and Hyejin always do this, break up, only to get back together a month later. So it’s true, we don’t know how long she’ll be here.”

Jungkook looks at his ‘friends’ in disbelief.

“Well, I’m your friend and when I tell you that I love this woman and I want to spend the rest of my life with her, you’re suppose to believe me.”

He looks at Namjoon and Stephanie for support.

“We do believe you.” They say in unison, offering looks of sympathy.

You edge closer to the table, but don’t quite make it.

“Well we booked our ski trip earlier this year, and Hyejin is coming. No matter how much you claim to be in love with her, we won’t change our minds. We don’t want add a overly sensitive crybaby and a literal baby to our group trips.” She looks at you, eyes resting on your bump, a sly smile resting on her lips.

The whole table falls silent as you run to grab your bag and rush out the restaurant, ignoring Jungkook as he calls out after you.

Standing on the curb outside the establishment, you attempt to order a taxi.

The door of the restaurant swings open and Jungkook is at your side, pulling you into his chest. You let go and cry into his shirt.

“I’m so sorry about them. But please believe me when I say that I love you and I am never ever going to leave you unless you want me to. And even then, I will never leave with a fight. I will never get back in that toxic relationship with my ex. You are my right now and future, my forever.” 

He hugs you tightly, slightly rocking you in his arms, making you feel like more of the crybaby you were accused of being.

But despite everything, you believe him, you had gone through too much emotional turmoil with him to give up now. You sniffle and pull back from the hug, quickly pecking his lips.

“It’s okay Jungkook. Just go and talk to them. Nothing is changing with us. I love you and sure, I’m hurt by their words but I have other things to be focusing on. This baby. You. Us. I’m gonna call a taxi and head home. Come over when you’re done. I’ll call you as soon as I get home. ” You kiss his cheek and push him the direction of the door. 

“Wait, come here.” He turns around and pulls you into him, kissing you gently, wrapping his arms around you.

You smile and hug him back tightly.

“You’re amazing.” He whispers into your ear.

You giggle.

“Those girls are her friends not mine, its okay.” You pull away.

He kisses you deeply before going back into the restaurant.

You try to order a taxi, to no avail. You press the call button over and over to only be rejected by every driver. You sigh and open the map to locate your nearest bus stop. 

Suddenly you hear the rumble of an engine. You look up to see a car pull up in front of you. Wearingly, you back away from the curb. The window of the car slowly comes down and you met with the sight of your ex-boyfriend.

“Where are you heading?” He shouts from his window.

You ignore him.

“I honestly regret the way things ended between us. I hope we can be friends at least. Let me give you a ride.” He gestures towards the passenger side.

He seemed sincere, there was no reason for him to lie, right? It had been months since you two had broken up. Weeks since he found out that the baby wasn’t his, after assuming it was. He didn’t seem angry when you told him, he nodded and bid you a quiet farewell. There was non animosity between the two of you, plus no taxis where accepting you as a ride on the app. So u=it would be convenient to get in the car.

“Thank you.” You say before getting into the car, placing your bag on your lap.

You feel his eyes on you as you shut the door and buckle your seat belt. You slowly turn your head towards him and offer him an awkward smile. He returns an smile back, but it does quite reach his eyes. Then you take time to look at his eyes. Really look at his eyes. They were tired, heavy with bags and dark circles. The whites of his eyes tangled with red vines, as if he hadn’t slept in days, or as if he had been crying. You were second guessing your decision to get in the car. A part of you wanted to ask about his wellbeing, but as soon as he notices your hesitance, he rips his gaze away from yours and starts the car. He pulls away from the curb.

As the car moves steadily down the road, you pull out your phone to send a text to Jungkook.

You: I bumped into Mark and he’s giving me a ride home.

I’ll call you when I get in. 

You watch as the blue line at the top of the screen struggle to meet the other side. A glaring red exclamation point appears next to the blue bubble. Without too much thought, you press the exclamation point once more and lock your phone, your eyes now focusing on the road.

Looking around, you realise that you were headed in the wrong direction. Glancing at Mark , you see him driving with such determination. Unlocking your phone once more.

Um… Mark, you missed the exit. I live that way, remember?” You look at him as he focuses on the road. 

You tap the bright red exclamation mark next to the unsent message to Jungkook. Glancing to the top of your screen you see that you didn’t have any signal. 

As you read the words of your message over and over again, the less you were believing them. 

“I’m not taking you home. You’re not safe there.” 

You look at him in shock, hardly believing the words that came so easily out of his mouth. It was as if you were really seeing him for the first time since getting in the car. Your eyes trail over his body, hunched over in the driver’s seat, hands tightly gripping the wheel. His usually perfectly styled hair was messy. He was dressed in a suit, one that he would wear to work. But it was Sunday. It was crumpled like he had been wearing it since Friday. His tie was loose, the pointed end resting in his lap. He didn’t smell like alcohol, he hadn’t been drinking. But his eyes were heavy with dark bags. The lack of sleep was painted all over his face like a picture hung up in an gallery, titled ‘Insomnia’. 

“W-what do you mean?” You splutter, fingers tightly wound around your phone. Your arms, holding your bag, that was placed on your lap, closer to your body. Once again, you frantically press the glaring red exclamation mark that taunted you. Once again, it failed to send. Biting back tears, you take a deep breath.

“Mark.” You say, looking at him.

He doesn’t turn to look at you, he keeps his eyes on the road, occasionally, shifting his glare from the wing mirrors to the rearview mirror. 

“It’s not safe.” He starts.

“Your house is not safe for you or the baby. He could find you there. Make you cry again. You know stress is not good for the baby.” He takes one hand off the steering wheel to run it through his tangled locks.

“It’s not good, it not good at all. It could make you miscarry. We don’t want that.” 

You feel the car come to a stop, as it stops at a red light.

“You’re scaring me.” You say, eying the door, assessing your means for escape.

Mark ignores your comment, sighing, he turns on the radio.

The gentle acoustic music plays throughout the car, loud enough to drown out the sounds of your heavy breathing but not loud enough to drown out the sounds of the buzzing traffic that surrounded the car.

“Do you remember this song?” Mark asks, a slight smile resting on his now noticeably dry lips. 

You shake your head and reply quietly. 

“No.”

He chuckles.

“This song was playing when I broke up with you. You turned on some shitty radio station as you got ready for our date. You almost didn’t hear me when I told you that I didn’t want to be with you anymore.” He pauses, you could almost see the memory playing back in his head.

Your heart feels like its going to burst out of your chest, the way it was beating. You could hear the sound of it beating loudly in your ears, if it beat any faster, it would drown out the sound of rumbling engine.

“Most breakups are sad and nothing good comes of them, but not ours.”

He takes one hand off of the steering wheel and rests it on your slightly protruding stomach.

“This baby. Your newly found maturity. Our breakup did this. Our time apart gave you space to get ready for our new life. You were looking for houses with him, right? I saw you two near my g-grandma’s house. At the realtors office. You must’ve gotten family insurance too right?”

You freeze as he caresses your bump through the sheer material of your dress.

“I broke up with you because I thought that you weren’t ready for this. Ready for life, you weren’t mature enough. Especially with those little friends of yours.” He sighs deeply, hand still on your belly.

He continues,

“All you needed was a little push. You were more than ready. You already had the qualities of a good mother. You’re so caring. You lied to me that day, telling me that this baby, our baby wasn’t mine. So sweet. Not wanting me to worry.” He takes his hand away from your bump, only to move it up to your cheek, stroking your cheek and then tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear.

The light turns green. Turning away from you he steps on the gas. Too frightened to confront him, scream at him, tell him that your baby wasn’t his, that there was no way it could be his. You were happy it wasn’t, happier that it was Jungkook’s. You were happy he broke up with you, because you met someone amazing. Someone who you wanted to be next to at the moment. But you needed to protect yourself,  to protect your baby.

~~~~~~~~

Jungkook sat back in his seat and angrily reprimanded his ‘friends’. He got increasingly angry as his ex’s friends casually sipped wine as they told him that they meant everything they said. Only his friends seemed apologetic and regretful. 

He lengthy discussion about boundaries and how he was going to need sometime to rethink who he called his friends. Telling them, if he had to pick between them and you, he would pick you every time.

He looked at his phone, expecting to see a text or to see your caller id on his screen, but there were no notifications from you. 20 minutes had passed, you should’ve been home by now.

Jungkook had called your phone more than 30 times, but no answer. He had called Sara to see if she had heard from you but she hadn’t. His ‘friends’ watched as he panicked and contacted everyone he could think of. Your work friends, your gym buddies, to no avail. Namjoon tried his best to calm him down, only to be brushed off. Jungkook snaps.

“I never want to see or talk to any of you guys again after today. I’ve always been supportive of you no matter what. Do you think all of us liked all of you initially? We all gave each other a chance. You didn’t even like Hyejin at first.  And she was didn’t even try to meet you guys. But the one time I bring someone I truly care about. Who I want to spend the rest of my life with. The woman who is carrying my child. I-She didn’t even do or say anything. You just don’t want to change your vacation plans. Well good news. You don’t have to. “ he rants as he scrolls through his contacts. A number he hadn’t thought about since that shoddy double date all those months ago.

Last resort. 

‘Mark’

---------------------------

Sorry for the delay and that its a short chapter, but I hope you enjoy!

[mydemonsdrivealimo]

Your Death, Your Dog, Your Declaration

Chapter 1/?

Book: Open Heart

Pairing: Bryce Lahela x Jensen Valentine (M!MC) (Not official/eventual)

Characters: Jensen Valentine, Bryce Lahela, Keiki Lahela, Sienna Trinh, Rafael Aveiro (mentioned)

Rating: Mature

Words: <2k

Series Summary: The chemical attack, as told in the world of Jensen Valentine and those close to him.

Chapter Summary: The night of the chemical attack hit Bryce hard. Harder than the victims on death's door. He's guilty, and it's killing him.

A/N: this piece will be dual/multi POV, so while this starts with Bryce, look forward to the others!!

~~~

1:04 AM

Out. 

In. 

Out. 

In. 

Out. 

In. 

Out…

In. 

Still 1:04.

Out. 

In. 

Out. 

In. 

Out. 

In. 

Out. 

In. 

Out. 

In… 

Out. 

In. 

Out. 

In. 

1:05 AM

1...2...3...4...5...6...7...8...9—shit. 1...2...3...4...5...6...7...8...9...10...11...12...13...14. 56.

1:06 AM

“Stop doing that, I’m not dead yet,” Jensen grumbled sleepily, yanking his hand back into his lap.

“Sorry,” Bryce replied. His tone was more lifeless than Jensen looked, tired and dejected.

Jensen rolled over, facing him. “You know it’s right there for a reason, right?” He said it with hardly a glance at the heart rate monitor, too exhausted to manage more. 

“Just keeping myself busy,” Bryce answered. “You should go to sleep.”

“Really?” he quipped, fast and sharp as always, “I hadn’t thought of it.”

It earned him a grin—a real one, as difficult as it was—but it faded just as fast. Bryce took Jensen’s hand again, playing with his fingers and holding extra tight, the gloves making it impossible to feel the dryness of his hands. They were always scratchy and rough from washing and sanitizing tens of times in a day, fingers calloused on the ends. His nails, painted a dark blue, were starting to chip. Would the embalmers take it off or repaint them?

Jensen shook him off, reminding him again that he wasn’t gone yet, and fidgeted with the blanket over himself. He ran the texture between his fingers. 

“Do you want to be cremated or embalmed?” Bryce asked. He still watched his hands, distracted.

“Oh, cremated, for sure—unless I can haunt Ethan, that is.”

There was a lightness to Jensen’s tone, seeming as monotone and factual as usual, but the ludicrous theory giving away to Bryce that he was joking. 

“I’m being serious.”

As he looked back up, Jensen’s eyes were a flat, solid shade of unforgiving, boring brown. No depth to the green hues Bryce could catch in the afternoon sunlight—just as sterile as the fluorescents illuminating them.

“If you keep acting like I’m dead, I’m going to kick you out. You’re supposed to be the optimist here, this is completely backwards.”

Bryce took a breath, looking down at the large, clunky suit he donned. “...I know. I’m trying.”

“Try harder. We could be talking about anything and you’re worried about my not-guaranteed funeral.” He said the next part in a mocking tone—a phrase Bryce had said plenty of times. “Not very ‘go with the flow’ of you.”

“How are you being more chill about this than I am?”

“Because I’m fine.” And the undeniable way he said it made it feel like the truth. Even with the dark circles under his eyes, and the exhaustion he couldn’t shake, it felt true. “If I die, oh well. Life moves on—it’s not like I’ll know it.”

As much as Bryce wanted to argue, wanted to correct the flaws in his thinking, he didn’t want to strain him with an unnecessary effort to defend himself. He was there to comfort him and that’s what he would try to do. “You seem more comfortable talking about death than you do small talk.”

Jensen's laugh turned into a cough, far into his chest with an agonizing sound that had Bryce reaching for the emesis basin. He waved him off, taking a sip of his water before settling back in the bed.

“It’s not the first time I’ve thought about it,” Jensen replied, a little more serious, a little more real.

Bryce gave him an inquisitive look, but Jensen just responded with a tired head tilt that meant he could interpret it however he wanted. He didn’t. 

Maybe he should. Maybe it was naive to have hope, but he would wait as long as he had to for Jensen to tell him what that meant. What any of it meant. All the vague references and to-himself jokes that Bryce didn’t understand—he wanted to. He wanted to know every detail of him: what built him and what broke him.

Once again playing with Jensen’s hands, a gentle encouragement to lull him to sleep, he recalled a night at Donahue’s like the others. The group shared stories from undergrad, their drunkest and most embarrassing moments, but Jensen had been utterly silent. Not that it was far out of character, but when multiple opportunities were presented to make fun of Landry and he took none of them, Bryce was going to notice.

It was also easy to recognize when he had been perfecting it himself for years. He remembered trying to stay quiet in an effort to go unnoticed, but that method never worked well given how often he was the one talking. For Jensen, it was believable; it was a perfectly practiced way to hide something.

But Bryce’s eyes had always been drawn to him. From the first day he walked into the locker room, all piercing glances and analytical expressions, Bryce noticed him. Noticed the light inflections in his tone, a small but important indicator most didn’t pick up on, but was obvious to anyone who bothered to learn him. 

Bryce didn’t learn enough of him. No, it didn’t help that Jensen was the opposite of chatty, but he couldn’t help feeling some ounce of guilt for that. “I don’t think you’ve stopped talking since I met you.” Did he take up every conversation? Were there times Jensen was going to share something about himself—something worth something—that Bryce covered with his own insignificant blabber? 

Everything was worth something when usually he got nothing at all. Jensen’s silence was not odd, after you got used to it, that is, and neither was the lack of substance. Bryce wanted more than that.

What were his hobbies? He could take a guess from the keyboard and bass in his room, but was it ever more serious than a display on the wall? 

All he knew was a shell of a person, only the details you could see on the outside, and he just never bothered to ask for anything more. He settled for the least amount of worth you could get from a person and never batted an eye, just kept talking and talking and fucking talking.

What was his favorite restaurant in the city? One of the places they went together? Or somewhere Bryce never bothered to ask about?

Boston was Jensen’s home for just over a year, yet he had 26 before that elsewhere. 

Where did he grow up?

When was his birthday?

What was his middle name?

Did he want to be cremated or embalmed?

A tap on the window caught his attention. Sienna was standing there with his phone in her hand, shaking it in a way that said he needed to check it. He glanced over Jensen again, well asleep this time, and carefully set his hand down.

A long slew of profanities left his mouth as he wrestled with the suit, grabbing his phone as fast as possible to see the tens of missed calls from Keiki. He barely had it in his hands before pressing the call back button. Waiting for a long few rings, she finally answered. 

“Hey, sorry, I—”

“No, it’s fine, are you okay? I saw the news.” The breathiness in her voice showed her concern no matter how hard she fought to keep her tone even. 

“Yes, I’m okay. I wasn’t there when it happened.” He checked over Jensen one more time through the window, still asleep, before gathering his things to leave. “I’ll be home in twenty minutes; did you eat anything?”

It took her a second to answer. “Uh, no. I…wasn’t really hungry.”

“I’ll get you something.”

He opened the locker room door to collect his coat and keys, tossing the latter on as she replied, “It’s like two in the morning, nothings going to be open.”

“I’ll get you something,” he repeated before ending the call, shoving his phone into his pocket and starting towards his car.

Twenty minutes later he arrived home, gas station food in a plastic bag he tossed on the counter. 

“I’m sorry,” he said as she stood from the couch, in pajamas and yawning but set up with a movie and her phone to keep her awake.

“It’s fine, I’m just glad you’re okay, I guess,” she said, taking a bag of chips out and opening them up. He declined when she offered them, standing aimlessly in the middle of the kitchen. 

He couldn’t sit down knowing the uncertainty of what was happening at the hospital, but he couldn’t pace around agitated the whole night. He would wait until Keiki was asleep then return to the hospital for an update. Maybe text Sienna while he waited. 

“You look like you’re going to be sick,” Keiki commented, shoving a handful into her mouth. The thought of eating did make him sick, but he just shrugged it off.

“It was just stressful,” he replied, trying to have some semblance of normalcy. He set his phone and keys down, almost robotic, on the dining table. She was watching his every move, even as he took a breath, reminding himself that normally he’d go change. So, he did.

His bed was a mess, blankets crumpled from where Keiki had taken it over, her stack of books on the nightstand along with her clothes in a heap on the floor. Grabbing his change of clothes, he took them to the bathroom, sensing that it was no longer his space.

She was still in the kitchen when he returned, watching him again.

“I forgot to ask, but were your friends okay?”

That was all it took for his lip to tremble, unable to get an answer out. He distracted himself with grabbing the remote from the couch, setting it on the coffee table and sitting down with a deep breath. He waited for the ache in the back of his throat to subside with every following breath, blinking back the wetness around his eyes.

“No.”

But he could barely choke back the sob escaping from his throat, sending the tears well over the floodgates.

He never even got a moment to check on Raf, and even in the half an hour he was gone, Jensen’s condition could have significantly worsened. It was too easy to imagine when he was out of his sight, no tangible proof in front of him: no dry comments and no tired grins, the same ones he’d probably never see again.

Wiping the tears was a useless effort, a constant flow wetting his face and soaking his sleeves.

The couch dipped next to him. Keiki tucked a few tissues into his hand before wrapping her arms around him.

And he remembered it from a thousand times before. The nights he’d come home late and have it out with his dad in the middle of the foyer, giving everything just as vicious as he got it, but only ending with him in tears. Keiki would sneak in, probably woken up by the shouting, to ask what was going on, but the minute she saw his face she’d climb up his bed to wrap him in a hug that couldn’t quite reach around him. It didn’t matter if she didn’t know the details—it was better she didn’t—but she was the only one there who had enough compassion to try.

Here she was again, picking up the pieces of a mess that wasn’t hers. He didn’t have the strength to fight her on it, though, and didn’t have the strength to send her to bed like he should’ve on those nights. He just turned, letting his arms fall over her shoulders and holding on with everything he had.

~~~

tagging: @jerzwriter @cariantha @kyra75 @gutsfics @inlocusmads @lilyoffandoms @choicesficwriterscreations

[csprslvt]

teacher aide pt 5

Summary: Ellie wakes up to seeing the love of her life and is filled with adoration, who knew that could be replaced with hate so quickly?

Warnings: kissing, sexual touching(?) Reader is self-destructive, Ellie gets her feelings hurt, short chapter (IM SORRY) Ellie kicks a trashcan bc shes angy. lmk if I missed anything!

This time when you woke up in Ellie’s bed, you stayed until she woke up. She had a rough day yesterday, you didn't have any classes in the morning, you owed her your time. You had no excuse to leave her in the state she was in. Your phone vibrated, notifications from Abby.

Goodmorning y/n. At 8:02 am

You smiled, typing a response, It felt wrong doing so with Ellie sleeping on your chest. But it was Abby, you couldn't ignore her.

Goodmorningggg, i'm sorry about yesterday  At 8:03 am

It's all good, how is Ellie?  At 8:03 am

You frowned, Abby was so caring even towards people that didnt like her. Ellie was always absorbed in jealousy when Abby was around you. They were so different yet so similar.

She's asleep. I'm waiting for her to wake up. At 8:04 am

You're a good friend y/n. At 8:04 am 

You didn't feel like one. You had given Ellie false hope, false hope that you could love her. Somehow along the way, the lines between friendship and romance had become blurred. You two had an intense homoerotic connection. As much as you would like to deny it, she wanted more. You didn't. You were wrapped up in Abby’s courtship, her loving gaze, it was all her. Still something about being with Ellie felt all too natural. Being around Abby was a breath of fresh air and Ellie was like a sharp inhale.

Should you tell Abby this? Most likely not. But upholding a sense of engimac energy was getting exhausting. Connecting with people was difficult for you, pushing them away was your thing. Maybe it was time to let someone in.

I don't feel like one. At 8:06 am

Why's that? At 8:06 am

I'm not stupid yk? Like ik Ellie wants more than a friendship with me. And here I am, allowing her to think that it'll happen. At 8:08 am

You don't want to be with her? At 8:08 am

I'm not really good at relationships. At 8:08 am

What makes you think that? At 8:09 am

I don't know, I just struggle to express my feelings in a way that people understand. I push them away because it overwhelms me, I've never had a serious relationship. At 8:09 am

Just because people don't understand how you show love doesn't mean you aren't worth loving y/n. At 8:09 am

You inhaled, you felt like you could cry, staring at the screen with blue light in your face. Those were the words you needed to hear that no one had ever spoken. No one had dared to understand the way you showed emotion. You had hardly understood it yourself.

You're smart and so funny and kind and god you are so beautiful y/n. You are a person worth loving.  At 8:09 am

Ellie stirred on your chest as you shivered from Abby’s words. She would wake up soon.

You're not so bad yourself Anderson. At 8:10 am

It was hard to take it seriously, what she was saying. It was so foreign to you to feel seen,understood, maybe even loved.

Hahaha. At 8:11 am

Ellie shifted, you texted Abby goodbye for now and put your phone down. You stroked Ellies auburn hair as she awoke.

She opened her eyes, adjusting to her surroundings, then she locked eyes with you and she looked so love stricken it was painful.

“You're here” she said with an adoring smile.

“I wouldn't leave you alone in that state Els”

Ellie blinked, her cheeks flushed showing off her starry array of freckles. Her eyes shifted down to your lips, then back to your eyes.

“I could kiss you right now.”

You gulped, frozen in place, the hand you had in her hair stopped moving and you stilled to look at her. Sunshine hitting her green eyes she stared at you. Never had she been this bold. Never were you forced to push away from her.

“I could kiss you right now… would you stop me? Hmm?” She asked you, her voice raspy from her sleep, she was so authentically Ellie right now. How could you reject her?

She leaned towards you eyes hooded with desire, her lips brushing yours so lightly and briefly and intimately it couldn't be counted as a kiss.

“Why won't you stop me?”

You couldn't speak.

“Why do you act like you want me and then say you don't? So confusing.”

“Ellie it's not appropriate-”

“Oh don't play coy with me, you spend half your nights cuddled up in my bed with me. Nothing about our relationship has ever been appropriate”

It had been so long since you were touched. So long since you have been kissed, the temptation to give in filled your brain. An impulsive temptation.But the thoughts of a certain blond permeated the black space of your mind.

“Ellie, if we do this our friendship will never be the same.”

“Hmm I don't care” She was so close, you could feel her breathing on your face, light and soft. She placed her hands on top of yours, resting on your chest.

“Jus’ want you. I don't want friendship. I want to kiss you.”

“Will you let me?” She said very seriously, looking deep into the molecules of your being.

“Ellie…” 

Hope and fear of rejection mixed in her green eyes.

“Can I?”

You didn't say a word, instead you closed your eyes and  pressed your lips to hers, hungry and wanting. She took advantage, gently touching every part of you she could reach. Suddenly she was very awake, your hands wrapped around her neck and she straddled you, desperate mouths moved for more. Every part of you was high on Ellie.

She had you in a trance where the world and its consequences ran away. 

Ellie, Ellie, Ellie. 

She moved to your neck, kissing you so softly and lovingly, filled with unmet promises. You preened for her affections. 

That was until your phone vibrated, once and then again, You looked over and saw a notification that planted you back into reality.

Abby.

You pulled away and Ellie looked confused, her eyebrows furrowed in worry.

“Don't tell me you regret this already.” 

She sounded small, heartbroken and fueled with fear.  Her eyes searched your face for emotion but you felt so overwhelmed you'd become numb, you looked at her, and looked at your phone. She followed your gaze and got off of you, picking the phone up and seeing a notification from Abby. The love she felt was replaced with anger. 

“So this is about her isn't it?” She was fuming, so much emotion contained in her eyes, clouded with pain.

“Ellie please don't make a big deal out of this, It was a mistake.” you stood to face her, face the mess you created.

The moment you released those words you regretted them, the stung Ellie deep in her soul, in her heart.

There you were, destroying everything you touched once again.

“A mistake, this whole fucking thing we had going on, was a mistake?”

“Nothing was going on.”

Ellies eyebrows rose in surprise, she scoffed, “Oh so what, you just spent the night in everyone's dorm? Do you just let all of them call you babe and treat you special? Hm? Or was it just me you decided to take advantage of?”

Panic rose in your throat, the thousands of words you had to say escaped you. 

I'm a bad person, I'm a bad person. Look at what I've done. I'm a bad person.

You choked, you never cried, it wasn't something that came easy to you. But now, as you began to finally feel you needed to cry. Pushing back tears, you saw the destruction you created and the girl you had hurt in your own selfish process.

“I'm sorry” you said with a shaky voice. It pissed Ellie off even more.

“Oh fuck that. You don't get to sit here and feel sorry for yourself. You dont get to sit here and fucking cry!” Ellie was yelling now, she kicked the nearest thing, a trashcan, in your direction. You flinched but she was too furious to care.

Her words cut deep into you.

I'm a bad person, I'm a bad person.

“I should be the one fucking crying after the way you used me, and I know you arent stupid y/n. Youre one of the smartest people I know, you fucked me over and you know it.”

You couldn't speak, couldn't move, couldn't breathe. Everything hurts. Everything was your fault.

You were the one that kissed her first.

She was right.

“Get the fuck out y/n.” 

Quickly and without a word you gathered your things and practically ran out the dorm, slamming it shut behind you.

And Ellie? Well, as all the anger flooded in her veins she did nothing, nothing but hate.

[taekooktimeline]

July 31, 2023 -

Jungkook goes live and expresses his thanks and happiness about Inkigayo! He confirms what we’ve known - that he does monitor what is being said on social media (timestamp 8:22). Towards the end of his live, Jk says, “Ah!” hits the table and talks about how “Taehyungie Hyung” came between his pre-recording and encore. I found it interesting he whacked the table as he brought Tae up, as if he was drawing attention to the topic. (Also, again, apologies for the photos not being crisp. I’m not sure why, even when it’s at the highest resolution, the images aren’t as crisp for me and if that’s on my phone or the live).

Timestamp 25:48 

He hits the table twice more (three times total) as he continues to tell us how Tae came to cheer him on.

Timestamp 25:52-26:00

He taps two fingers on the table twice as he explains that as the pre-recording played, he went to the main stage to perform. He taps two fingers on the table again as he explains this.

Timestamp 26:06

He says that people started screaming, and that’s when Tae came onto the stage (he ends this bit with a small smile).

Timestamp 26:31

He continues (and also hits the table again), sharing that Tae had asked him to teach him the choreography. I needs want to stress, due to some saying Tae learned the choreography that day, that that is incorrect. Jungkook does NOT say when he taught him the choreography.

Timestamp 26:40

He praises how quickly Tae picks up the choreography. BTS has said before that when they forget choreo, they look to Tae, who has sharp memory retention and recall.

Timestamp 26:55

As an aside, I found it hilarious at the contrast between Jungkook happily teaching Taehyung the choreography vs telling his friend, Mingyu, to learn it himself.

Jk says, with a slight chuckle and smile, that when he went up on stage to perform he was surprised when Tae came up and joined him.

Timestamp 27:08 

Finishing, he thanks “Taehyungie Hyung” for coming and giving him support. He snaps his fingers and gives a thumbs up. It’s very sweet and very clear that Jk was happy that Tae came to Inkigayo. He’s the one who kept searching for Tae on stage, periodically smiling and glancing at him. Plus, Jungkook is the one who gestured for Taehyung to join him at the center of the stage to do the “Seven” challenge with him.

A detailed translation thread -

Snippets here - https://twitter.com/thepurpleherald/status/1685705523994263552?s=46&t=StSwHjW0_Domk_lHUFMaCg https://twitter.com/dailyforjk/status/1685701525723570176?s=46&t=StSwHjW0_Domk_lHUFMaCg

[wondereads]

Weekly Reading Update (06/23/24)

Reviews and thoughts under the cut

Wild Seed by Octavia E. Butler (8/10)

This was my first ever Octavia E. Butler book, and it didn't disappoint! The way this story used Anyanwu and Doro's relationship to comment on power dynamics and issues in the world at large blew my mind; I found the discussion of eugenics particularly interesting. They were both such intensely flawed yet compelling characters. This book skirts the line between fantasy and sci-fi (something I'm looking into for my thesis as a peripheral issue), and it definitely made me wonder about the world. I wasn't aware going in that this was a prequel situation, but even then I do think I was a bit dissatisfied with how things left off. That's just my personal taste though.

Haikyuu!! Vol. 41 and 42 by Haruichi Furudate (10/10)

It usually takes me around half an hour or so to get through a volume of manga, but these took me a couple of hours. Why? Because I had to keep putting it down because I was crying so hard I couldn't breathe. As someone who has read a plethora of books ever since I was young, it takes a lot to get me to cry, especially that hard. I was sobbing. Furudate has created such wonderful characters and then puts them through so many struggles that I can't even be mad about because it's highly realistic that someone pursuing a sport would run into this! Seeing Hinata break down followed instantly by the third years graduating and the Brazil arc had me miserable in the best way possible. I usually never rate manga or graphic novels five stars because they're usually super fast-paced and so much relies on writing style for me when I read novels, but this just broke me.

Better Than the Movies by Lynn Painter (46%)

This is a very cute book so far. I could probably tell you exactly what's going to happen from this point onward, but it's a genre convention for romcoms to be predictable. Liz is a fun protagonist; she's quirky in a way that has a reason and isn't annoying. There's good chemistry between the leads with some great banter, and you really can't ask for more than that. However, I will say the constant song references are starting to irk me, especially with the lyrics included in the writing --I don't know, it just reminds me too strongly of my early fanfiction years.

Moon Rising by Tui T. Sutherland (45%)

If there's one thing about me, I love a mind-reading protagonist. Moonwatcher is probably my favorite perspective of the Wings of Fire series, even if I wish she'd speak up sometimes. Sutherland did a great job making her similar to Starflight, since they're the same tribe, without being a carbon copy, and while mind reading might seem a little too omniscient, her inexperience and general social ineptitude keep it from becoming overpowered. I'm thrilled to see the return of Peril, whose story is left open from the previous arc, and I'm excited to learn more about the other new characters (Winter, Qibli, and I believe Turtle) who have their own interesting introductions.

The Fellowship of the Ring by J. R. R. Tolkien (43%)

Despite my fantasy obsession, this is my first time reading The Lord of the Rings (though I have read The Hobbit). While it is definitely much slower-paced than the average modern fantasy, I'm enjoying myself so much. If you've been following my blog for a while, you'll know I'm a worldbuilding nut, so this is like my dream book. There are so many tangents to tell stories about the history of Middle Earth and all the goings-on of the world, and I keep noticing little details and wishing they'd talk about those too. Tolkien is also a rather funny writer; Bilbo's passive aggression in particular made me giggle. While this a bit of a dense story, it's definitely living up to its reputation so far.

Boys With Sharp Teeth by Jenni Howell (42%)

This is a project for my part-time job, so I'm not sure how much I can actually divulge, but let me just say this: this book is compared to The Raven Boys in its summary, and it's living up to that.

Her Wolves by G. Bailey (7%)

I won't lie, the writing of this book so far does not give me hope. However, it could still be a fun read even if the grammar and syntax aren't the best. Also, funny thing, this book is set in the future on Earth. I did not know this. I thought it was a high fantasy. So imagine my surprise to see a landmass labeled "America Court" on the map. My misunderstanding was cleared up soon, but it still made me laugh.

[tales-of-asteria]

[Special Gacha] Sweet Season Duration: 1/30 (Mon) 16:00 ~ 2/17 (Fri) 15:59

Chance to get Bond Awakening enabled 5☆ Mint [Sweet Season], Rinwell [Sweet Season], Kratos [Sweet Season] and Emil [Sweet Season].

The already-running awakening partners Cress, Law, Lloyd and Richter can be used to awaken Mint, Rinwell, Kratos and Emil respectively.

✶ This gacha features a 5 Step Up gacha, where you pay a discounted rate to draw 10 characters and continuously raise your chances of pulling a 5☆. Steps will not be resetted even if you get a featured 5☆.

✶ You will also get rewards after a certain number of steps, and with the 15th you will be able to choose one of the featured characters (you need a total of 660 Asteria Stones to reach the 15th step).

In this gacha will also reappear other Bond Awakening enabled 5☆ characters. The rates of this gacha’s featured characters will be higher than other 5☆.

A special pick up event will be held, where one of the featured characters will have the summon rate higher than the others on certain days:

Mint: from 2/1 (Wed) 16:00 to 2/4 (Sat) 15:59

Rinwell: from 2/4 (Sat) 16:00 to 2/7 (Tue) 15:59

Kratos: from 2/7 (Tue) 16:00 to 2/10 (Fri) 15:59

Emil: from 2/10 (Fri) 16:00 to 2/13 (Mon) 15:59

For the event, the single daily pull will cost 3 Asteria Stones instead of 5.

There’s also the paid option to get a 5☆ character with a multi-roll.

(More on Awakening here, and on Bond Awakening here)

Characters artes and skills details:

Dark 5☆ Mint Adenade

Stats at LV80 HP: 23,000 | Power: 2,200 | Defense: 2,240

Mystic Arte: タイムストップ Time Stop Delays all enemies' turn by 1 | OL: 50

Arte1 - ナース Nurse Heals all by 30% | Activation: 30%

Arte2 - ピコピコハンマー Pow Pow Hammer Power: 300% (Target: All) | Hits: 6 | Activation: 50%

Arte3 - シャープネス Sharpness Dark attack +40% | Activation: 20%

Co-op skill: Magic Defense Boost 8 (defense type) Increases magic defense by 105%  for 180 seconds. (wait time 06:00)

Dark 6☆ Mint Adenade

Stats at LV80 HP: 26,600 | Power: 2,500 | Defense: 2,570

EX Skill: If a dark party member is on a recovery frame, it will recover an additional 40%, if it's on an Attack boost frame, the frame' s attack boost effect will be increased by 70%

Mystic Arte (OverLimit gauge at MAX): Time Stop Delays all enemies' turn by 1 | OL: 50 Bond Awakening Bonus: Heals (Self) by 50%

Mystic Arte (Awakened Mode OverLimit): タイムストップ Time Stop Party Heal: Delays all enemies' turn by 1, and 100% of the whole party hit counter will be carried over the next attack turn | OL: 75 (50+25) Bond Awakening Bonus: Dark members' attack 50% (1 turn)

Arte effects added by Bond Awakening:

Arte1 - ナース Nurse Heals (Self) by 30%

Arte2 - ピコピコハンマー Pow Pow Hammer Break gauge damage +50%

Arte3 - シャープネス Sharpness Own defense +80% (1 turn)

(Co-op skill is the same as the 5☆)

Wind 5☆ Rinwell

Stats at LV80 HP: 24,200 | Power: 2,060 | Defense: 2,260

Mystic Arte: 白薙・神鳴 Beatific Deus Roar Power: 300% (Target: Single) | Hits: 57 | OL: 20 (high hit & fast OL type)

Arte1 - マジックチャージ Magic Cancel Wind defese +40% | Activation: 40%

Arte2 - コンセントレートオール Concentrate All Wind attack +40% | Activation: 40%

Arte3 - シャープネスオール Sharpness All Wind member's critical rate +10% and critical damage +30% | Activation: 20%

Co-op skill: Fast Appeal Target 8 + Luck Heal (defense type) Slightly increases the chances to be targeted by the enemy. Also, there is a 25% chance of recovering 20% HP。 (wait time 00:21)

Wind 6☆ Rinwell

Stats at LV80 HP: 28,700 | Power: 2,340 | Defense: 2,530

EX Skill: At the beginning of the turn, adds 6 points to the wind members' OL gauge if their HP are at 100%

Mystic Arte (OverLimit gauge at MAX): 白薙・神鳴 Beatific Deus Roar Power: 300% (Target: Single) | Hits: 57 | OL: 20 (high hit & fast OL type) Bond Awakening Bonus: Hit count +8

Mystic Arte (Awakened Mode OverLimit): 白薙・神鳴 Beatific Deus Roar Power: 300% (Target: Single) | Hits: 125 | OL: 50 (20+30) (high hit type) Bond Awakening Bonus: Hit count +15

Arte effects added by Bond Awakening:

Arte1 - マジックチャージ Magic Cancel Heals the wind members by 30%

Arte2 - コンセントレートオール Concentrate All Heals the wind members by 30%

Arte3 - シャープネスオール Sharpness All Wind members' attack +80% (activated turn)

(Co-op skill is the same as the 5☆)

Water 5☆ Kratos Aurion

Stats at LV80 HP: 23,400 | Power: 2,060 | Defense: 2,340

Mystic Arte: シャイニング・バインド Holy Binds Power: 310% (Target: Single) | Hits: 84 | OL: 45 (high hit type)

Arte1 - 斬光時雨 Sword Rain: Beta Power: 210% (Target: Single) | Hits: 10 | Activation: 55%

Arte2 -  ヒールストリーム Healing Stream Recovers all members from abnormal statuses and heals by 30% | Activation: 30%

Arte3 - 驟雨双破斬 Raging Tiger Blade Power: 270% (Target: All) | Hits: 17 | Activation: 15%

Co-op skill: Physical Attack Boost 8 (attack type) Increases physical attack by 105%  for 180 seconds. (wait time 06:00)

Water 6☆ Kratos Aurion

Stats at LV80 HP: 27,200 | Power: 2,310 | Defense: 2,710

EX Skill: Increases the water members' defense by 2000, and has 70% chance to prevent paralysis

Mystic Arte (OverLimit gauge at MAX): シャイニング・バインド Holy Binds Power: 310% (Target: Single) | Hits: 84 | OL: 45 (high hit type) Bond Awakening Bonus: Own defense +100% (1 turn)

Mystic Arte (Awakened Mode OverLimit): シャイニング・バインド Holy Binds Power: 310% (Target: Single) | Hits: 150 | OL: 85 (45+40) (high hit type) Bond Awakening Bonus: Water members' attack +100% (activated turn)

Arte effects added by Bond Awakening:

Arte1 - 斬光時雨 Sword Rain: Beta Heals the water members by 15%

Arte2 - ヒールストリーム Healing Stream +10 points to own OL gauge

Arte3 - 驟雨双破斬 Raging Tiger Blade Inflicts poison to all enemies (3 turns)

(Co-op skill is the same as the 5☆)

Earth 5☆ Emil Castagnier

Stats at LV80 HP: 20,700 | Power: 2,430 | Defense: 2,240

Mystic Arte: 魔王獄炎波 Devil's Hellfire Power: 500% (Target: Single) | Hits: 7 | OL: 20 (fast OL charge type)

Arte1 - 虎乱蹴 Ravaging Tiger Power: 210% (Target: All) | Hits: 3 | Activation: 50%

Arte2 - 砕覇双撃衝 Dual Death Power: 280% (Target: All) | Hits: 4 | Activation: 30%

Arte3 - 襲爪岩斬破 Quake Assault Power: 340% (Target: Single) | Hits: 7 | Activation: 20%

Co-op skill: Fast Earth Attack 9 + Chain Plus (attack type) Performs an earth physical attack with 120% of power. Also, the chain counter number will increase by 10 (only if the chain is active). (wait time 00:15)

Earth 6☆ Emil Castagnier

Stats at LV80 HP: 23,700 | Power: 2,830 | Defense: 2,540

EX Skill: When an earth party member is on a frame with an Attack UP buff on it, the frame's boost effect will be increased by 80%, if it's on a OverLimit boost frame, the gauge will be powered with an addition of 4 (points)

Mystic Arte (OverLimit gauge at MAX): 魔王獄炎波 Devil's Hellfire Power: 500% (Target: Single) | Hits: 7 | OL: 20 (fast OL charge type) Bond Awakening Bonus: Arte power +60%

Mystic Arte (Awakened Mode OverLimit): 魔王獄炎波 Devil's Hellfire Power: 1100% (Target: Single) | Hits: 7 | OL: 70 (20+50) (finish type) Bond Awakening Bonus: +13 points to own OL gauge

Arte effects added by Bond Awakening:

Arte1 - 虎乱蹴 Ravaging Tiger Heals the earth members by 15%

Arte2 - 砕覇双撃衝 Dual Death +3 points to the earth members' OL gauge

Arte3 - 襲爪岩斬破 Quake Assault Earth members' attack +40% (2 turns)

(Co-op skill is the same as the 5☆)

[fetznerdeathrecords]

Petrale - The World Down There

Black Metal from Mlini, Croatia

“Down there one can’t see anything” is what is written in the centre of my copy of this album. This is the gloomy world of Petrale, a one-man black metal project from Croatia. Petrale is prolific, having released an album every year since 2017. The sound has dissonance, while the lyrical themes “are about the manifestations of the devil in a rural, Mediterranean, catholic area”. Without doubt there’s a strong odour of early black metal from Norway here. The ferocity of the attack, the tempo, the violence coming from the guitar and the harshness of the vocals are all marks of opener “Impersonate the Blade”. There is a breakdown, and we are dragged through barbed wire before the swirling intensity and turbulence return, and then back to a majestic funereal conclusion. “Po Noći Se Boje Vidi Kad Svijetli Iz Grobova” has a similar black atmosphere, made more intense by the layers of instrumental contribution. Thunderous, deep and razor-sharp, this is almost experimental in style, as the scene switches setting.

1. Impersonating a Blade 08:26 2. Po noći se boje vidi kad svijetli iz grobova 05:25 3. A Brief Discussion About the Remoteness of a Loss 05:41 4. From Elongated Hollows 04:48 5. The Choreography of Two Thousand Legs 06:21 6. Rectangles Carved Into Reddish Soil 04:55 7. Walls Are Bloating 06:05 8. The World Down There 06:52

Release date: November 2nd, 2024

[fictional-whore-06]

4 and 13 from the main category, 8 from this or that:)

Thanks so much for the ask! 💙

https://www.tumblr.com/fictional-whore-06/735992290967011328

4) Genie granted you three NSFW wishes. What are you wishing for?

1 i wish I had a prostate

2 i wish for a magic box full of honey tentacles

3 i wish for a magic strap on what allowed me to feel everything it feels

13) What is your darkest kink?

Probably having my nudes leaked. Obviously not for real life, but the fantasy of having my reputation ruined like that is so hot!

This or that

8) Blunt pain or Sharp pain?

Blunt pain, impact play, spanking, slapping. I much prefer it to sharp pain like pinching

[maydayfireball]

Len model finished !! His video was suppose to be a black background like rin's was, but i got a little carried away.. Just like Rin, check below for the model progress timeline and video credits !!

Turning Rin into Len ! I'm lazy and i want these two to look very similar, so i just edited rins face and body. Time elapsed: 00:34:53 (his head isn't smaller i just didn't screenshot well.)

2. Struggled drawing Len's hair ! I wouldn't normally include this part in my time, but like. fuck len. tumblr helped pick which one i used of these two blue prints. Time elapsed: 01:07:00

3. Len hair finished ! Why does this man hate me ! Time elapsed: 02:46:44 (almost two hours, huh..)

4. Body rig ! Unlike rin, I decided to rig len from scratch. This is because his base is too different from anyone else's to get away with weight transferring. (significantly shorter than kaito / gackpo, but with a different body shape than rin.) So here's a gif of his silly little arm movin. Time elapsed: 04:08:32

5. Hair Rig / Physics. For all the models (except rin) I've done their hair rig / physics right after rigging the body. This is mostly so i can have a fully optimized base to work off of later when making outfits. For rin i just.. forgot to do her hair lol. anyway time elapsed: 04:34:30

6. Outfit Designing. I didn't time this for rin since that timing was more for commission reference sake, and more clients won't have me designing their stuff. so it wouldn't have made sense to include it. but here we are. Rough outfit sketch. Fuck drawing headphones. Time elapsed: 05:06:05 for all my original models, the concept was more or less blending their design aspects together. (with the exception of gackpo, who's only difference between updates is colors and slight hair changes.)

7. Outfit modeling ! He went pretty easy, since It was just a matter of making parts i already did for Rin. So anything I struggled with last time, i had practice for. Time Elapsed: 7:50:25

8. UV Mapping. I included this step into texturing last time, but I felt like separating it this time around. Basically, i unwrapped all the UVs for the model and laid them out on a texture sheet to draw over. From what i've seen, a lot of people do this differently / in different orders? like they might uv map and then immediately texture the shirt, before moving onto the next piece of clothing. But texturing (using my tablet in general) hurts my shoulders typically, so i try to get it all out of the way at once. So i uvmap before even pulling the tablet out. Time elapsed: 8:50:48

9. Texturing. My neck hurts ! Time Elapsed: 11:40:19

10. Extruding, triangulating, exporting.. and then spas / toons. i think last time i included the extruding / triangulating in meta under texturing? But i've decided to break it up this time. Basically, i add depth to parts of the outfit, manually turn quads into triangles on tricky sections (like shoulders and hips) so they're easier to rig. Basically getting it ready for pmx before i export it. Time elapsed : 12:45:23 (left is unextruded / mirrored, right is extruded with the mirroring fixed.)

11. Rigging adjustments and physics ! Basically, used the weight transfer plugin to transfer the weight onto the outfit to match the base. I then cleaned the rig up and added bones / physics for parts that needed them. Time elapsed: 13:40:25

12. Cleaned ! Honestly there wasn't much to do, since most of the cleaning (like renaming bones) carried over from Rin.

Total time elapsed: 13:41:56 !!

Significantly less time than Rin, but that's honestly to be expected. Overall three days worth of work? Since I didn't. actually work on him much the first day.

I've also discovered that my models shoulders tend to disagree with game rip motions (which is why they look so. sharp. in the video), though i've noticed other models doing this as well.. it occurs since most motion rips don't use the rotate bones, but mine are made with those in mind. Kind of annoying, but maybe i can find a work around.

Final thoughts??? He might be my favorite original model right now honestly. I really like him. I might even distribute him and Rin, with expressions to remove their headphones and arm warmers.

Video Credits: Song: My Love Is Hellfire by SLAVE.V-V-R Len Cover: XZenvii Motion: anonRipper, Colorful Palette Scripts: TearlessHen, thtrandomlurker, minmode, skyth effects: おたもん, soboro, beammanp, 化身バレッタ, 呉石

[grandmaster-anne]

Gyles Brandreth's Exclusive Extract Part 1

The Mail Plus | Published 25 November 2022

SATURDAY and Sunday, ­September 3 and 4. It is the weekend before the Queen’s death. The Right Reverend Dr Iain Greenshields — who is staying with her at Balmoral — finds her ‘in fantastic form’.

He has dinner with her on Saturday evening, gives the sermon at Braemar and Crathie ­Parish Church on Sunday morning, then has lunch with her on Sunday afternoon. They talk about the Queen’s childhood, her horses, church affairs (she is ‘well up to speed’) and her sadness at what is happening in Ukraine.  

This is quite typical. The Queen is good at living in the present but often draws on her memories of the past, grateful for the lessons it has taught her.  

‘She was so alive and so engaging,’ recalled Dr Greenshields later.

Tuesday, September 6. Clive Cox, one of Her Majesty’s favourite racehorse trainers, gets a call from the Queen at 10 am. She wants to chat to him about the prospects for her two-year-old, Love Affairs, who is running in the two o’clock at Goodwood.

‘We talked about the filly,’ he said, ‘how the race might pan out, how another horse of hers was doing in my stable, and about a couple of other things. She was sharp as a tack.’

It is a busy day. Not only does the Queen present her outgoing Communications ­Secretary with an honour, but she also spends time with her fourteenth and fifteenth prime ministers.

Boris Johnson said: ‘She could not have been kinder, more sympathetic or personally ­encouraging.’ Moreover, she was full of ­‘characteristic humour and wisdom’.

Wednesday September 7. Every newspaper is carrying pictures of the Queen at Balmoral yesterday. She appears old, yes — she is 96 — and frail. There is a dark bruise mark on the back of her right hand but she looks alert and very much alive.

She is smiling, looking over the tops of her spectacles at the camera. There is a definite, mischievous twinkle in her eye.

For other royals, today is business as usual. Prince Charles spends the day doing good works in Lanarkshire. Tonight, he is hosting a dinner at Dumfries House in Ayrshire.

Edward and Sophie, the Earl and Countess of Wessex, are at events across Lancashire. Princess Anne is visiting the Isle of Skye and the Isle of Ramsay.

By late afternoon, however, rumour is rife. I have a call from my son-in-law (a former Coldstream Guards officer) to say that he is at the Cavalry and Guards Club in Piccadilly, where groups are gathering to discuss the detail of Operation London Bridge — the codename for the action-plan that comes into being the moment the sovereign dies. What has ­happened? Has she had a fall? Has she had a stroke?

Thursday September 8. Rumour had swirled all morning. At 12:32 p.m. Buckingham Palace issued a statement saying the Queen’s doctors were concerned for her health and, though she was ‘comfortable’, recommended she remain under medical supervision while family members were informed. The Queen’s helicopter left Windsor Castle at 6:48 a.m. to collect Prince Charles from Dumfries House where he had spent the night. He reached Balmoral at 10:27 a.m. Camilla had spent the night at Birkhall on the Balmoral Estate and was driven by car to join him.

Charles leaving Dumfries house to rush to the Queen's bedside

The Princess Royal was already there — at her mother’s side to the end. Andrew and Edward, the Queen’s younger sons, and Sophie, Edward’s wife, and Prince William and Prince Harry were reported to be on their way.

There was confusion about whether or not Harry’s wife, Meghan, would go up to Scotland with him. When it became clear that Catherine was not going because she would be collecting her children from school, it emerged that Meghan was not going, either.

Andrew, Edward and Sophie, and Prince William arrived at Aberdeen airport in an RAF executive jet at 3:50 p.m. and William drove the four of them to Balmoral, 45 miles away. They arrived at 5:06 p.m. Queen Eli

The formal announcement of her death came from Buckingham Palace at 6:30 p.m. while Prince Harry was still in the air. His flight from Luton airport to Aberdeen was delayed. He was the last of the family to arrive at Balmoral, and the first to leave. Travelling to a BBC studio in London in the early evening, I saw a double rainbow in the sky above Buckingham Palace.

And I found out from a friend in the racing world that the Queen’s horse, Love Affairs, comfortably won the two o’clock at Goodwood on Tuesday: ‘led field centre, made all, ridden and stayed on gamely final furlong, unchallenged’.

The truth is that Her Majesty always knew that her remaining time was limited. She accepted this with all the grace you’d expect. 

‘Her faith was everything to her.  She told me she had no regrets,’ said Dr Greenshields, referring to the last weekend he spent with her at Balmoral.

I had heard that the Queen had a form of myeloma — bone marrow cancer — which would explain her tiredness and weight loss and those ‘mobility issues’ we were often told about during the last year or so of her life. The most common symptom of myeloma is bone pain, especially in the pelvis and lower back, and multiple myeloma is a disease that often affects the elderly.  

Currently, there is no known cure, but treatment — including medicines to help regulate the immune system and drugs that help prevent the weakening of the bones — can reduce the severity of its symptoms and extend the patient’s survival by months or two to three years.   

Was the Queen given steroids to help get her through that important final day of duty two weeks ago? Was that bruise on the back of her hand that we saw in the photographs of her with Liz Truss the mark left by an intravenous cannula? Or was it simply the kind of accidental bruise that comes with old age?  

All I do know is that ‘cause of death’ on her death certificate will be given simply as ‘old age’ — just as it was for the Duke of Edinburgh last year.  

‘Old age’ is a quite commonly listed cause of death when a patient is over 80 and their doctor has cared for them over time and seen their gradual decline.

(When the Queen’s death was registered on 16 September my prediction proved accurate. The death was certified by Dr Douglas James Allan Glass, a local GP and official apothecary to the Queen who had been looking after her in Scotland for more than 30 years and who was with her when she died. Dr Glass said: ‘We have been concerned about the Queen’s health for several months. It was expected and we were quite aware of what was going to happen.’)

When Prince Philip retired in 2019, the Queen very deliberately left him to it. She carried on with her royal duties at Buckingham Palace or at Windsor Castle while he lived out his days at Wood Farm on the Sandringham Estate.

They would speak regularly on the phone, but weeks could go by without them seeing one another. That shocked some people, though not those who appreciated how well the Queen understood her husband — understood his wish to be left to his own devices, ‘not to be fussed over’, to be allowed, after more than 70 years of duty, to see out his days in his own way.

When the Covid-19 pandemic swept the world in 2020, however, Prince Philip decided to spend ‘lockdown’ with the Queen, and a small retinue of staff, at Windsor Castle.

And when lockdown was lifted, Philip and Elizabeth, having spent more time close together than they had done in years, decided it rather suited them. They left Windsor together and travelled up to Balmoral together for their traditional summer break.

When that was over, they went back to Sandringham — but not to the big house. Instead, together they went to live at Wood Farm, Philip’s bolthole, the un-grand, unpretentious place he regarded as his home on the estate.

It’s where he wanted to end his days, and the Queen wanted to be with him to the end. But on February 16, 2021, the Duke was admitted to hospital in London as a precautionary measure after feeling unwell.

On March 3, he underwent a successful procedure for an existing heart condition. He was discharged 13 days later and returned to Windsor Castle.

Three weeks later, his death was announced at noon, April 9, with the release of a statement saying he had ‘died peacefully’ that morning at Windsor Castle.

His daughter-in-law, Sophie, Countess of Wessex, described his death as ‘so gentle. It was just like somebody took him by the hand and off he went’.

The Queen was reported to have been at her husband’s bedside when he died on the morning of April 9, 2021. In fact, I don’t believe she was.   

The Duke of Edinburgh had been in a hospital bed, set up in his dressing room at Windsor Castle. That morning, he went to the bathroom, helped by a nurse.  

When he came back, he said he felt a little faint and wanted help getting back into bed.  The nurse called the Duke’s valet and the Queen’s page, Paul Whybrew, for help — and he died before the Queen could be called.

The Queen wasn’t yet up. And she wasn’t called until after a doctor had come and pronounced the Duke dead.   

He was being laid out when the Prince of Wales arrived. Charles waited and had a cup of tea, but went away without seeing his father.

Prince Edward did see him and then, gradually, the rest of the family began to arrive. As they tried to comfort the Queen, the Queen was comforting them.

It helped that Elizabeth was accustomed to her own company. Even when her husband was alive, she had so often spent evenings on her own.

Immediately after Prince Philip’s funeral, she returned to her apartment in Windsor Castle in silence.

‘I helped her off with her coat and hat,’ her dresser, Angela Kelly, remembered, ‘and no words were spoken. The Queen then walked to her sitting room, closed the door behind her, and she was alone with her thoughts.’ When Prince Albert died, Queen Victoria retreated from the world. When Prince Philip died, Queen Elizabeth II went towards it.

She knew it was her Christian duty to carry on as best as she could. ‘There is no magic formula that will transform sorrow into happiness,’ she said, ‘but being busy helps.’

In the immediate aftermath of Prince Philip’s death, Vice Admiral Sir Tony Johnstone-Burt, the cheery Master of the Household, told me: ‘My principal duty with HM has been to keep her spirits up — so I’ve been watching Line of Duty with her . . . I’m “the Explainer”! It’s very funny.’

The 95-year-old widow of Windsor laughed as she struggled to understand the convoluted plotting and sometimes incomprehensible dialogue in the popular ‘police procedural’ television series.

She enjoyed watching television, she told me: ‘It keeps me in touch — when I can understand what’s being said. There’s an awful lot of mumbling on television now. It’s not my hearing. They just don’t seem to speak as clearly as they used to do.’

Her grieving was private, but in public the Queen was determined to carry on as normal. ‘Life goes on,’ she said. ‘It has to.’

That first summer after Philip’s death, she chose to dress — as she herself put it — ‘as cheerfully as possible.’ With the help of Angela Kelly, she opted for yellow and pink and powder blue, in summery dresses with pretty floral designs.

Her closeness to Kelly, the daughter of a Liverpool dockworker, did not always go down well; the ladies-in-waiting found her a nuisance at times. The dresser was from a quite different background to theirs, and irritated some at court with her no-nonsense Northern manner, her easy access to the Queen and her effortless familiarity with her.

They particularly resented the way Kelly felt able to step out of line to adjust the Queen’s clothes or drop a word in her ear at what they considered to be inappropriate moments. But they could do nothing about it because the Queen regarded Kelly as one of her true friends.

She was dazzling in green when she opened the Scottish Parliament on October 2, 2021. A few days later, all in pink this time, she opened the Welsh Senedd in Cardiff.

The Prince of Wales and the Duchess of Cornwall were also on parade for both visits. ‘We weren’t required,’ the Duchess said to me soon afterwards, laughing. ‘We were there to help out if necessary. It wasn’t necessary. The Queen did it all. She wanted to. She’s unstoppable.’

For six months following Prince Philip’s death, the Queen did so much, so purposefully and with such a determination not to give way to any form of self-pity (which, she said, ‘My husband would certainly not have approved of’), that she probably did too much.

In the autumn of 2021, she had a sudden ‘energy low’. She felt exhausted. Her ­doctors ordered her to ‘rest a bit, not to push herself so much, to take it easy.’

She had planned to attend ‘COP’, the climate change conference in Glasgow, in person on November 1 but, in the event, had to record a video message instead.

She had also hoped to attend the Festival of Remembrance at the Royal Albert Hall and the Remembrance Sunday service at the Cenotaph — fixtures in her calendar — but was persuaded not to. ‘I’ve got to be sensible,’ she said. Until then, her energy had been little short of astonishing. Over her final decade, she’d not only continued her work as monarch but actively engaged with modern life.

She had her own mobile phone, and obliging grandchildren ready to show her how it worked. She understood ‘texting’ though was rather defeated by ‘apps’. And she did not allow her grandchildren to bring their ‘devices’ to the dining table, under any circumstances.   

Believe it or not, I think I once heard Her Majesty refer to the lavatory as ‘the toilet’ — in a concession to the vocabulary of the younger generation.  

She had loved the early James Bond films — ‘before they got so loud’, she said.

And it was thanks to Bond that she famously made a truly dramatic entrance when the 2012 Olympics were staged in London, in a filmed sketch with Daniel Craig. Craig was seen running up the red-carpeted stairs at Buckingham Palace, meeting two of the royal corgis, being greeted by the Queen’s page and ushered into the royal presence.

It was the Queen’s own idea to keep Bond waiting a moment as she signed off a letter, before turning around to say: ‘Good evening, Mr Bond.’

Her line delivered, the Queen, accompanied by Bond and her page and her corgis, walked with purpose to the waiting helicopter that transported her past the statue of Winston Churchill in ­Parliament Square (Churchill looked up and gave Her Majesty a wave —she especially liked that touch), along the course of the river Thames, to the Olympic park in East London.

 ‘She was a natural,’ said Daniel Craig. ‘I was definitely more ­nervous than she was.’

Lord Janvrin, the Queen’s former private secretary, told me he was sure the Queen wouldn’t have done the stunt during the Queen Mother’s lifetime. ‘Why?’ I asked him.

‘Simply because she would have felt her mother wouldn’t have approved — that it would have been a bit undignified.

The Queen became less inhibited in several ways after her mother’s death [in 2002], less constrained, more relaxed.’

There was a different Bond connection when it came to the Queen’s next dramatic outing. In 2022, for the Platinum Jubilee long weekend of celebrations marking her 70 years on the throne, the Queen played herself in a delightful sketch with Paddington Bear, the creation of author Michael Bond.

In the scene, Paddington (voiced by Ben Whishaw) is taking tea with Her Majesty at Buckingham ­Palace and offers her one of his marmalade sandwiches — which it turns out the Queen doesn’t need because she already has her own marmalade sandwich, hidden in her handbag.

This time, much more in terms of acting was asked of the Queen than had been at the time of the Olympics — and she delivered in full measure. I happened to be working with Britain’s most honoured film and stage actress at the time, Dame Judi Dench, and she said to me the day after she had seen it, ‘Wasn’t she good? I mean, really, really good.

‘Her timing was perfect. Every look, every line was just right. It was completely on the money — none of it over-stated. Just wonderful.’

She added, laughing: ‘I’m quite worried. She’s going to be offered all my work now.’

What did the Queen make of it? ‘Great fun,’ she said. She marvelled that such a large crew had appeared at the palace to film such a short sequence, and she was truly amazed that word of it didn’t leak out before the day of transmission.

‘Everyone kept the secret,’ she said, delighted. ‘That was lovely.’

IN ROYAL circles the Duke of York is now someone — like Harry and Meghan —whom it’s better not to talk about.

There is no doubt, however, that the Queen loved her second son to the last. When she died, each of her children published a personal statement about her. Part of Prince Andrew’s read: ‘Mummy, your love for a son, your compassion, your care, your confidence I will treasure forever. I have found your knowledge and wisdom infinite, with no boundary or containment. 

‘I will miss your insights, advice and humour. As our book of experiences closes, another opens, and I will forever hold you close to my heart with my deepest love and gratitude, and I will tread gladly into the next with you as my guide.’

Some of the turns of phrase could have been written by his former wife, Sarah Ferguson, Duchess of York, who still shares a home with the prince, but the part of the message he very much wanted the rest of us to take note of was where he spoke of the ‘confidence’ the Queen had shown in him. 

Prince Andrew stepped down from public life in 2019 over his friendship with the ‘billionaire paedophile’ ­Jeffrey  Epstein. He was stripped of his honorary military roles, including Colonel of the Grenadier Guards, and obliged to give up his HRH style in public. But his mother stood by him. She loved her boy. She retained her ‘confidence’ in him. 

That said, there had been a cloud hanging over his reputation, and the Queen was a realist. She essentially fired her own son. A senior courtier said to me, ‘There was a lot of nonsense talked about no one being at the helm, but the Queen took a firm grip of things. To use the military jargon, there was only a few days between flash and bang. Action was called for and the Queen took it.’

The day after firing Andrew, however, she showed us how much she loved him by taking him riding with her through Windsor Great Park in the rain and ensuring that there were photographers on hand to capture the shot. She was also glad to have him at her side as she travelled to her husband’s memorial service.   

The rest of the Royal Family was less happy to see Prince Andrew taking centre stage — not because of any personal hostility, but because they feared the pictures of him side by side with Her Majesty would dominate press coverage of the memorial service. And so it proved.The Duke of York, of course, told his mother the whole story of his long relationship with Epstein, all the ins and outs of it, and the details of the accusations made against him.

The first time he gave her the full account of the whole sorry saga, she listened carefully. Then the Queen, who never said more than was necessary, responded with just one word: ‘Intriguing.’

I chair ‘The Oldie of the Year Awards’ where we honour people of a certain age who still have what might be described as ‘snap in their celery’. So last year, post the pandemic lockdown, I wrote to the Queen’s private secretary to ask whether Her ­Majesty might consider accepting the Oldie of the Year Award.  

A witty reply was sent to me from ­Balmoral Castle on August 21, 2021: ‘Her ­Majesty believes you are only as old as you feel. As such The Queen does not believe she meets the relevant criteria to be able to accept and hopes you will find a more worthy recipient. 

‘This message comes to you with Her ­Majesty’s warmest best wishes.’

After the birth of Prince Andrew, the Queen — according to one of her ladies-in-waiting — ­suffered ‘post-natal side effects’ because the baby had been born using the now-discredited method of ‘twilight sleep’. 

‘Dammerschlaf’ was a form of childbirth ­pioneered in Germany in the early twentieth century in which the adminstration of drugs (morphine and scopolamine) puts the patient into an amnesic state during labour. The mother remains semi-conscious but apparently pain-free and has no subsequent recollection of the experience. The baby is delivered by forceps. 

In fact, Charles and Anne were also delivered via the ‘twilight sleep’ method — and Prince Edward’s was the first birth not to involve it. The difficult aftermath of Andrew’s birth may possibly have put the Queen off that delivery method for good.

2ND EXTRACT