#tw queer angst

[14thcommander]

The taste of her kiss is bittersweet.

The guilt goes away as quickly as it arrives, not enough to fully disrupt the moment. It’s all tongue and teeth, hungry in its very nature. Yet, it is the softest touch you have ever felt.

When she moves away from you — just slightly, as you can still feel her warm breath fanning over your face — you wonder what your family would think of this.

Would they want to fix you? Would they seek a cure for whatever disease takes over your chest whenever you see her?

The weed blooming in your heart, twisting around its organic cage, is too strong. The thoughts of sin and guilt are like an image on a fuzzy television screen — faint, but still there. Tattooed on your skin like the scars you made yourself.

Her warm palms are pressed against your cheeks. She briefly squishes them, giggling as she does so. You exchange the beautiful sounds of laughter.

With an expression of a faint smile on your face, you move forward. Your lips are on hers again.

She doesn’t pull away. In fact, she brings you closer. Your body is pressed against hers.

In this moment, you wonder if God will forgive you for not being able to love a man — at least, not like you love her.

Who could know the mind of God, after all?

[manufacturedrainbows]

My boy Kageyama bonked his head on a volleyball cart - turns out sharp metal will slice your skin right open ☠️

Head injuries bleed like wild so he's shaken up, but Ukai's a good coach (dad) and takes care of it 😤👏 Ukai loves his 12 sons fr

Based on a whump fanfic I'll probably never finish the draft for 🤪

[stardella]

Fic readers are def familiar with the “what if Ballister and Nimona were a few minutes late to confront the director” trope…

[lvrboy-inc]

“偽顔” — Yama

꒰: Précis | Middle-aged, existential, train wreck office worker diving head first into the club scene. One night of debauchery and a “You only live once” attitude turns out more problems than ever before. Torn between two worlds and wondering if he should try the pill one..more..time…

꒰: Disclaimer(s) | Strong language, suggestiveness in the sexual regard, + heavy drug usage, angst, yearning, heavy history, office affair..[Ecstasy, Nose sugar, Alcohol, etc.] Tread carefully~!!

File Archive

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@lvrboy-inc on tumblr. All Rights Reserved. Do not steal, copy, or translate any of my works.

[blitzsicedcoffee]

Tried to go to sleep and was once again woken up by comparisons of my life and the lives of Blitzø Buckzo and Stolas Goetia.

So let me tell you the story about my suicide attempt. Of course this is going to be very different, as I am a nonbinary trans queer person and these are two male gay demons in hell lol.

But I was able to draw a lot of parallels that even I was like, "oh. Oh no" Lmao.

So, it was 2018. My partner and I were still unengaged. We didn't really know what to call one another since I was nonbinary, besides partner.

I had a Lot of chest dysphoria. It was crippling. The dysphoria around my body is probably the biggest part that differs between me and our boys here.

Anyway, I was always one to take care of other people, and other people never took care of me. Thus my connection to Blitz. As well as, I was a very lonely kid and teen. And when I became an adult it didn't change much. I found solace in reading, and was always very autistic and had trouble with communication in large groups, and taking criticism. Thus my connection to Stolas.

There are many things that they both do in the show that I recognize from my own mental health journey that I related to (and is hard to see someone else to through), but also is important to show in a show like that.

The insecure hugging of the self, the anxiety spiraling, the deflection to different topics, the just "not thinking about it" and focusing on something else. I did all of these. They're coping mechanisms. Not great ones. But they are.

I would say I don't necessarily have their brand of abandonment issues, but I do have something they both have which is rejection sensitivity. If I am rejected by someone for something, I am devastated. It has taken me a long time to not take certain things personally and realize that other people are speaking from their own perspective and not trying to diminish mine. And is partly why a psychologist thought I had BPD once, (I did not, just anxiety and CPTSD).

Both of these boys, they have gone through none of that growth. They still hear the tiny minute rejection and they shut off from other people. Or they react, albeit in Blitz's case, 'Blows up' on others based on the way he himself was treated as a kid.

Now, I'll talk about the suicide attempt so if you wanna skip the rest you can. I understand.

I was walking home from work. I worked at a cafe and lived about a 30 min walk home in an apartment complex. It had been a particularly busy Sunday rush day, and I was feeling vulnerable from constant misgendering, constant berating about how to do my job, and no support whatsoever for eight hours straight.

I was already crying during the walk and I was hugging myself. I wasn't wearing a binder and felt the urge to have the breasts off my chest NOW but obviously I couldn't. I grabbed at my chest and sobbed, and once I was outside my apartment complex, I stood on the edge of the curb of the sidewalk and considered walking into traffic.

I heavily considered it. But as I stood there, my other hand took out my phone and dialed my partner who was already at home. I told him what was going on and I stood on the curb until he got there and held my hand as I stepped back, and cried into his chest.

I haven't tried since but I did end up in outpatient therapy. And I want to explore this comparison to Blitz and Stolas because one of them is about to mentally break. And it can take the littlest things stacking up to do so.

[idontplaytrack]

✧ Free

Jos Cleary-Lopez x fem! reader

Warnings: MDNI, mature themes— mentions to miscarriage, coarse language, angst, descriptions to self-harm, mentions to blood & bodily fluids, death

Part 2 for A part of me

Fourteen days since you’ve been home at Jos’, fourteen days since you’ve been at the hospital, fourteen days since you’ve left the house. Two whole weeks since that nightmare of a situation happened to you. Not much has changed since, other than the obvious. Margot and Rob looked at you with pity-filled eyes…you hated that. You didn’t need the pity. Though yes, what you were going through currently was extremely painfully since you were constantly bleeding and cramping— pity was the last thing you needed. It made you feel like a helpless little baby. You hated being treated that way. Jos knew you way better, so there was none of that with her. But there was no denying she was very…careful. In just about everything she did since then.

On the plus side, you were spared a long and torturous trial because they found evidence from him in the kit they had to do on you. But even with him out of the house, you were still where it happened, even though it was actually the safest place for you to be. You couldn’t go home, and it wasn’t like you were home a lot anyway…seeing that neither of your parents have even texted to ask where you were. But there was no way you could function the way you were now, at home. You could barely do anything on your own— that would prompt them to ask about what was going on and you did not want more people to know.

“Hi, baby.” Jos greets you with a smile as she walks into her room holding a bed tray. “Just in time.”

“You don’t have to do this, you know?” You asked flatly, pushing the blanket off of yourself. She only smiles at you again, gaze soft as she places that tray near the bottom of the bed while you went to wash up and stretch.

“No, it’s fine.” She leans against the wall, taking to you, “Got to spend some time with my mom to make bread so that was nice. She already left for work and Izzy’s off at school too— so, it’s just us.”

“Oh. Okay.” You answered, shutting the door so you could do your business. You sat there staring down at the juncture between your thighs, sick of what you were seeing and what you had to do. The bleeding has lessened gradually over the last two weeks, which was approximately the amount of time the hospital had told you it would take for it to come to an end.

This morning was the least gory it’s looked to you, but still, it’s been two weeks too long. You sigh, changing out the sanitary napkin before you washed your hands and exited the bathroom. Jos stretches out her arm, pulling you close gently and pressing a kiss to your cheek. “Sit down, have some food then we’ll go for a little walk?”

“Okay, that sounds pretty nice.” You reached for the mug of green tea first then dug into the egg muffins Jos and Margot had made.

“I’m gonna go grab some food for myself. Be right back.”

After breakfast, you left the house with Jos for the first time in four days. Like last time, it was a walk around the same park just right by her house. But, Margot and Rob were both pretty against either of you leaving the house for too long— because of Matt’s actions that have brought on a lot of attention from the media. You were definitely feeling the stress of it hearing phones ringing off the hook, the news channels on TV talking all about Matt getting arrested. It was only a matter of time before the reason got exposed. Along with your identity.

As you walked along the path in the quiet park, hand in hand with Jos, that was all you could think about. And it has easily caused your anxiety to skyrocket and you to freeze in your tracks. Jos similarly stops, looking at you, concerned. “I think we should go home.” You managed to tell her.

She doesn’t even question it and agreed, immediately walking back home with you. And there you were, sitting on the couch with another mug of tea. Jos sits right beside you but you scooted a little bit away from her. She notices but chose not to say anything. Her hand finds its way to your thigh and you so quickly got up and excused yourself to go use the restroom. Typically, she wouldn’t say anything but it was the fact that you seemed so startled by it even though she’s always does this— even back at the hospital, that had her worried.

————

The skin beneath your fingertips turn white as you gripped at it, your breath progressively gets ragged, heart slamming against your chest. Your whole body goes stiff while your mind starts racing about a bunch of what-ifs that could happen in relation to the whole situation with Matt. With each passing day, your fear only grew. You could already see those headlines or hear them— all in your head. It’s been all you could think about the past three days. You weren’t sure what started it, but the lack of anything to do lately has definitely caused this, in a way.

As the warm water repeated hit your back, you take in deep breaths inhaling the steam. The loofah gripped in your hand scrubs your skin raw. It stings after some time but you just couldn’t stop. Of course it stung, you’ve been doing the same thing for the past week. Events from that goddamn night started to flood your mind, you needed to get out. Gasping for air, you blindly reached forward and shut the water off, scurrying to grab your towel off the counter. A string of knocks pull you out of your bubble, you gasped aloud, thoroughly shocked. “Baby?”

It was Jos.

“Are you alright? You’ve been in there awhile, y/n.”

“Y-yeah, yeah. I’ll be right out, Jos.” You exhaled forcefully, drying yourself off and getting dressed as fast as your limbs allowed you to in the moment.

You exit the bathroom as if nothing has happened, but you were still anxious. So fucking anxious, and terrified. Walking past her, you headed upstairs to Jos’ room. But, as expected she stops you before you even made it halfway up the stairs.

“What?” You snapped, your voice shaky.

With her hand on your wrist, she was quick to spot the redness on your arms. She almost nearly let it go immediately out of shock. You yank your arm away from her grip, trying not to burst into tears.

“What—”

“You know what.” You spat, pushing past her as tears slipped down your cheeks.

‘I probably should’ve waited until she was sitting down and could properly talk to her.’ Jos thinks, catching up with you swiftly.

Right before she steps into her room, she stops herself, watching what you were doing. You were sat on the floor by her bed, backpack in front of you as you took a pouch out of it. Your actions were frazzled, breathing growing erratic. The contents got dumped on the hardwood floors, landing with a clatter. Papers, no— photos. Ultrasound photos and pieces of plastic which Jos had yet to make out as pregnancy tests. Seeing all of them sprawled out on the floor before your eyes, you lost it— you bawled. Jos was shocked, she didn’t know what to do now. Nothing was processing in her mind. It wasn’t until a scream snaps her out of her racing thoughts, her eyes watched you grab the items by the handful and crushed them.

Fuck.

She let you release all of those emotions before she stepped in. You needed that. “y/n.” She calls your name, walking closer to you.

“What—” You panted, hands letting go of the items as your body shook, overwhelmed. You were still in tears. “What— I— fuck!”

“You’re okay, baby.” She kneels down before you, holding your face in her hands

“No.” You kept babbling over and over, “No, no I feel so dirty.”

“Baby, you’re not…you—”

You cut her off, “It’s my fault. I tempted him. I gave him the chance to do whatever he did to me. I deserved it. I shouldn’t have gotten together with you. He’s right…I don’t deserve you.”

Jos held it together as best as she could, painfully swallowing the tears. Her heart sank, getting smashed into pieces hearing your words. “It’s not your fault.” She says, “It’s not your fault, y/n. He should’ve never laid his hands on you. Nothing could make what he did justifiable.”

“Now every time I try to go to sleep, all I can think about is what kind of headlines would come up overnight.” You wept, “I’m terrified to do anything. Go anywhere. I—”

Jos engulfs you in a tight hug, putting physical pressure on you to calm you down some. “We’ll get through this, okay? I love you, I care about you. That’s never going to change. He’s gone now, he can’t hurt you anymore.”

“Can’t he? What he did is still haunting me. I wake up screaming and crying and then you get dragged into it.”

“I love you.” She repeated herself, “No matter what. I couldn’t care less about him— he can go to hell right now, and he should.”

“I’m tired, Jos.” You said to her and inside, she was worried. This…reckless behaviour. She understood why because you’d obviously went through something that was as good as being put through hell. But you hurting yourself over it, after everything? She wished you didn’t do that. Oh how she wishes that you’d just release your emotions with her instead of taking them out on yourself.

“Let me be strong for you then. You don’t have to worry about that right now. Focus on healing your body, your mind…going to those appointments with your therapist. Anything that can help, not what happens in bad moments. If you want to cry, you go right ahead and cry. Scream? I’ll be here. If you want to hit something, please do. Not yourself, though, please. Tell me. I’ll be right here to help you. You’re not alone, baby. I’m right here with you.”

“What do I do with all these stuff? I don’t want them— but it also feels wrong to throw it all away. Is it even right to keep a photo of the scan? I— it’s like I don’t know anything anymore.” You rambled, eyes slowly going back onto the mess on the floor.

“Keep one if you feel like that’s what you need to do. Then toss the rest. Keep whichever one’s the one that your eyes look at first. Don’t overthink it.”

You heeded her advice, keeping one and very swiftly getting rid of the rest. Somehow, you were still in tears. But the urge of the self-destructive behaviour had completely died away in that moment. You felt calmer after all of that, and hearing what she had to say to you contributed to it. You appreciated it, and her. But sometimes, the memories got the best of you. This was not easy to forget, to process…having taken a huge toll on your mind and body alike.

————

That evening, hell broke loose again. News outlet dug through social media and started spreading photos of you, and plastered them all over their shows to speculate who you were. Granted the photos were publicly posted on Margot’s page, they were ones taken at events the family would be at. Your identity has never been revealed by anyone. People just assumed you were another daughter of theirs. They neither confirmed, nor deny it— to maintain your privacy.

The police revealed to you and the family that the attack was premeditated. There were deleted messages to his friends to confirm it. After that you zoned out, failing to properly hear and process the fact that your identity was exposed to the media by him. Along with the fact that you were dating Jos— the eldest daughter of such an influential couple.

“What the fuck?!” Rob screeched at the TV screen, startling you, “We told them not to say anything about her identity. Fucking rats.”

“We didn’t talk about any of the things they’re saying. At all.” Margot was speechless, “How—”

“Matt. He planned all of it.” Jos guesses, “The police recovered texts he sent to his friends about it.”

“We know that, but not the fact that—”

“Well, I guess it didn’t matter, did it? Whoever they were found out anyway. Now her business is all over the news. Every little detail.” Jos huffs, “I didn’t post anything about her. So whatever they found out, was probably through your page.”

You ran out of the living room and onto the deck. Jos was right on your tail. “My life is over.” You broke down, “Nobody wants someone like me at their company, at their school, anywhere. Because of that fucking— I mean what the fuck? My life is a joke right now, Jos. How did I even get here? We’ve been working so hard to keep things about us private then he just spills it all to the world? I’d be fine if it was just that but he— he took away everything, Jos. My life as I knew it was gone the second he touched me. I pushed him away, but he fought back, pinning me down. I couldn’t move after that. I was terrified. Izzy was a few doors down. I didn’t dare to make any noise because I didn’t want to scare her. He knew that, he was smiling through all of it. He was happy. I can never spend a minute in silence without thinking about him, going out in public without thinking I’m being followed. Spend a minute in this house without being pitied by your parents. They mean well, they care but after awhile I just feel worse because I’m making them so worried and upset. He made me out to be a slut, that it was my fault that he raped me. That I am nothing but an object for his pleasure. I appreciate what you’ve been doing for me, what your parents have done for me. But we are never going to come back from this mess. It will always be stuck with us. With me. It’s on me, this mess. Your family’s reputation is ruined because of me. If I wasn’t here, he wouldn’t have done it.”

“I will never be normal again. I can go to as much therapy as I can but who recovers from something like that, Jos? It stays. And I don’t want that, Jos. I don’t want to drag you along with me.”

Her face falls, becoming an indistinguishable expression. But her eyes, they showed that she was heartbroken. Just like they’ve been showing the same for the last couple weeks. You couldn’t bear to see it anymore. She didn’t deserve a life like this because of you. No.

“I’m sorry, Jos.” You apologised, pressing a kiss to her cheek, “I have to let you go. I can’t do this to you, I love you. I don’t want you to be responsible for the consequences of your brother’s actions. Goodbye.”

Jos lets you leave without a fight, you hear her tearing up as you walked away from her. You fought the urge to look back and just walked ahead, towards the door. Her family didn’t stop you either— they heard it all. They must’ve.

That night, Jos was wide awake. She couldn’t allow herself to sleep. She was terrified she’d get a call from the hospital about you. Several hours later, she receives a voice memo from you. She immediately picks her phone off the nightstand to listen to it. “Jos, I’m sorry, I can’t do this anymore. Please forgive me. I’m so sorry, baby.”

“Shit.” Jos was instantly drove into panic, rushing into Margot and Rob’s room without knocking. Words failed her, she couldn’t say anything. She plays the message for them, hands shaking.

And then, Rob and Margot’s phones got messages as well. One after another. “Honey?” Margot stumbles out of bed and steadied Jos before she crashed onto the floor. Rob plays the message he receives. Jos barely heard anything after hearing the message she got, all of it sounded muffled from that point on.

“Where the hell did she go?”

Margot says she doesn’t know. Rob scrambles to grab Jos’ phone to check your location, knowing she has it. But your phone was no longer on. All three of them, helpless. But Jos knew there was no stopping you. You’ve had enough. You wanted the pain to end. Margot held Jos in a hug while she wailed, Rob was calling everyone he knew at hospitals to ask for you. No idea what Izzy was doing, but hopefully, she was asleep by this time of the night.

They finally located you about an hour later, and they all rushed to the hospital. “Jos, you— you go inside first.” Margot gives her shoulders a squeeze, “She’s your— oh, God. Rob, I—” Margit buries her head in Rob’s chest, sobbing. He held her head, another arm wrapped around her. Jos steps closer to the door, pushing it open. It creaks.

Jos hadn’t stopped crying, walking into the sterile hospital room and sitting down in the plastic chair next to your pale, lifeless body. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry I couldn’t protect you. I promised I would always protect you but I couldn’t do it. I love you so very much, baby. Please don’t ever forget that. I know you were in a lot of pain, I know you were hurting, baby. But now, all of that’s gone. All of that. I get it. You’re free now. You never would’ve left if you didn’t need to. You didn’t need to say sorry. But God, I don’t know how to tell Izzy. But— Please just know and remember that I love you, I always will. Rest easy, sweet girl. I’ll see you again. Okay? Can you promise me that?” Holding onto your freezing cold hand, she presses a kiss to the back of it and placed it back down gently after giving it a squeeze, “See you later, hm? I’ll miss you.”

Jos didn’t look back, she couldn’t bear to see you in that state again. Falling limp in the safety of her parents��� embrace, she continues crying. Even when her parents have stopped. “She loves you so much, sweetheart. I just— I wish I could turn back the clock.”

“I know, Mom. But she—” Jos hiccups, Margot rubs her back, “At least she’s not suffering anymore. She deserves that at least.”

Rob walks in next, “It pains me that you had to resort to this, mija. I’m very sorry we couldn’t do more for you. I just want you know how proud we have all been of you, you’re such a smart girl. Such a bright future ahead of you. I hate myself for not seeing any signs of what could’ve led to that night. You were robbed of a life that you were supposed to enjoy. But Jos, she’s right. At least you’re free to do whatever you want now, you’re not in pain anymore. You deserve that after all you’ve been fighting through. It just got too much and I…I get that. Don’t worry about us, okay? We’ll see you again in some years. Probably me first, though. Because I’m old.” He chuckles, sitting down on the same plastic chair, “Rest easy, we love you. Would you just promise to give us a sign that you’re okay whenever you’re ready? I— mija, I, goddamn, I don’t even know what to say anymore. You’ve been such a joy and blessing to our family. I just know we’ll miss you so much. Okay, I’ll let you and Margot talk now, alright? See you around, mija.”

Rob and Margot switched places, allowing her to talk to you finally. “I remember when Jos first brought you home to meet us. I just knew you would be the one. I’ve never seen her so happy…the way she looked at you was the cutest thing ever. So it kills me that life has taken such a turn and forced you to do this. We say we’re hurting now, and we are. But nothing compares to what you had to endure. You— my goodness, sweetie. I’m so sorry you had to go through finding out and the miscarriage alone. I can’t even imagine how scared you must’ve felt. But you pushed through and that’s so badass, honey. Thank you for making my girls so happy, thank you for treating us like your own family. All the memories — the laughter, the late night chats, baking together, cooking together, playing games, singing in the car. Everything— you have been such a blessing and I hope you know that. Please don’t forget that. Please don’t blame yourself anymore because none of this is your fault. We don’t blame you for any of it. You just…rest now and just do whatever you wanna do, because baby girl, you…you’re free. No one’s going to hurt you anymore.”

Margot leaves the room, trying not to cry again. Jos walks back inside for one last goodbye. “I just want to sit with you for a minute.” She sniffles, watching you through her blurred vision. Jos profusely blinked her tears away to get a good look at you, wanting to take it all in.

Leaning forward, she continues, “I wish you didn’t leave my house the way you did tonight. I wish I could’ve held you one last time, gave you a proper kiss. Tell you it was okay. But no, you left upset. And I— I can’t let that go, baby. I’m so sorry I didn’t just hug you and didn’t let you go just yet. Because god, I need that so bad right now, my love. And I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry I let you leave without saying I love you back. I need you, baby. Please come and visit me, okay? Please?”

Taking in a shaky breath that she lets out slowly, she got closer and stroked your cheek, biting the inside of her own as tears poured from her eyes, obstructing her vision. “I love you, too.”

🏷️ Tag list

@ashecampos @auliisflower @cheesysoup-arlo @frogs00 @ludoesartnstuffs @pda128

[ucetheones]

Don't Tell Him

*my other fics and requests are still in the works, i just couldn't drop this idea.

In Jon's mind, he and Josh would grow old together, the way twins were meant to. They'd get married around the same time, have kids in succession and just exist together with whatever partners the universe dropped in their laps.

It never occurred to him that Josh could die before him. Die as in stop breathing, and never open his eyes again.

It wasn't a thought worth entertaining, until it was. 

Because Josh lay prone; in a hospital bed, fighting for his life. A life that he'd barely begun living. They were only twenty after all, having just moved out of their parents house and into a cramped apartment with Joe. They were finally independent, and now Josh's life hung in the balance. 

At any moment, the machines breathing life into Jon's twin could fail at their job. At any moment, Jon could go from having his brother by his side, alive and happy, to buried and slowly being forgotten by those who claim to love him. 

The room is quiet aside from the sniffling of various people throughout said room. 

Obviously, Jon sat as close to Josh's bed as he could without disturbing the machines at work; Joe sat on the opposite side, his head hung low. 

By the window held Josh's boyfriend, Rami. He all but refused to get to close. He'd tearfully confessed that the reason Josh was hurt was because they'd been arguing on the drive back to Rami's apartment. There was mention of a patch of ice, and a skidding car, but Jon had tuned him out after. 

He'd made it out "unscathed". Rami's words, not Jon's. Because Jon wouldn't call a broken arm and cracked ribs unscathed, but there wasn't time to argue. Not while Josh was…there.

He knew it wasn't Rami's fault, but the man refused to accept that. If Rami had just waited to bring up the fact Josh hadn't been eating or sleeping well, they wouldn't all be waiting for a moment that may never come.

Eventually, their parents arrive with Sefa, and the sight of his mother's red eyes and his younger brother's downturned lips, has Jon rushing to Rami.

"You can't tell them y'all was arguing…my pops ain't gonna get it. He gon' try to blame you."

Rami just shakes his head, his throat going dry. "I have to, Jon. Their son could die because of me."

This time it's Jon who shakes his head, a scoff leaving him. "Uce, you was just worried about him. Tellin' them about the fight, means telling them everything goin' on with Josh, and 'ion think any of us can handle the can of worms Josh gon' open up if they find out he doin' that shit again."

Again. Because this isn't the first time Josh stopped eating and sleeping. It was something his family had spent so much time trying to help him with. They hadn't wanted to send him to a therapist back then, but they did. 

Rami seemed to mull over Jon's words, gently nodding. "You tell them then, please." There was a pleading tone to his voice, one that had Jon agreeing despite the disgusting feeling that settled in his stomach.

Telling them had gone as easy as Jon thought it would. Which is to say, it was difficult. Even with the details left out, the atmosphere of the room felt charged with a weird energy.

Joe had given his seat up to his aunt, claiming he'd sat long enough and wanted to stand.

No one commented on the fact that her legs had been shaking so much that their dad had been all that was holding her up.

It felt like hours before a doctor and nurse came into the room for updates, though said updates were no help, and did nothing to put anyone at ease.

They weren't sure why Josh hadn't woken up, when he would, or if he would. They knew nothing, and Jon wanted to scream. He wanted to yell at the top of his lungs for someone to do something, for someone to bring Josh back to them. Back to him.

It took a lot of convincing, but when the nurse informed them that visiting hours would be ending soon, so only two people could stay, Jon had managed to sway his parents into going to get some rest.

Rami silently agreed to go with them, especially once Sefa had attached himself to the older man and refused to let go. It was obvious he was hesitant to leave his boyfriend, but everyone knew once Sefa latched onto someone, he wouldn't be letting go until he fell asleep. Jon thought Rami could use some rest as well, even if he hadn't voiced it.

Rami and Josh have been together for almost two years now. Two long years, that neither would trade for the world. Rami had easily been accepted into their family circle, it was hard to turn the redhead away, when just his presence was enough to have Josh smiling wider than anything else could.

If Josh wakes up…no, when Josh wakes up, he'll want to know Rami was okay. He'll want to know his boyfriend was well rested and fed.

When it was just Jon and Joe in the room, the beeping of machinery the only constant noise, Jon couldn't help the thoughts that raced through his mind. They weren't hopeful thoughts, they were frightening and left a sour taste in his mouth.

Thoughts of a life without Josh. A life where there was no Josh to poke fun at him for one embarrassing thing or the other, was no life. A future without Josh's constant rambles over things no one found interesting but him wasn't a future Jon wanted.

As it stood, he'd give anything to hear his younger brother ranting about some stupid ass show he was obsessed with, but ultimately hated. He'd give anything to switch places with Josh, right now. 

The sight of his baby brother stuck in a bed, unmoving, and not breathing on his own was one he wouldn't be forgetting. Because it was different from all the other times, the times where Josh was awake, even if he was grumbling about the disgusting food they'd served. Even when he was joking around about the state of his body.

"You think Lil' Uce can hear us?"

Jon shocks even himself when he breaks the silence in the room, his gaze falling on his cousin. 

The elder just shrugs, his lip tucked between his teeth. "If he can, he better wake the hell up right now, man." His tone is light, but there's a certain heaviness to it as well. 

Jon can't help but chuckle at his cousin's clear attempt at making him smile. "I hear that, Uce. He in for it when he wake up, trust me."

There was no real threat behind Jon's words, it was for the sake of lightening the mood. It worked, because Joe smiled over at him and it felt like a reward amongst the chaos.

Two weeks. Two fucking weeks is how long it took for Josh to open his eyes. Fourteen days of Joe and Jon talking to the younger boy with no response from him.

At least the machines that kept him alive the first few days were no longer necessary as he could breathe on his own now.

The first sight Josh was greeted with was Jon drooling in the seat by his bed, his neck angled awkwardly as he slept.

With considerable effort, Josh managed to turn his head to see Joe in a similar position, though his head was propped up by his hand.

Josh wanted to speak, but his throat was dry and felt like sandpaper with each swallow of saliva. He wanted to know how he ended up here, but that required one of them being awake.

Time passed slowly to the boy, but eventually Jon was waking up. Josh knew because he'd started twitching his nose. A habit his twin had never dropped.

When their eyes met, Jon almost immediately leapt from his chair. His hair was wild, like he'd barely touched it for days. "Uce.." His voice came out winded and full of disbelief. Josh wanted to laugh, but he refrained. 

With a raised brow, Josh cleared his throat. Jon got the message and quickly helped him guzzle down a cup of cool water.

The feeling was so soothing to his throat.

"How do you feel, bro?"

Josh did his best to shrug. He paused when he finally noticed the cast that traveled almost to his shoulder from his wrist. It was like all at once, all the aches registered in his brain, and it was all he could focus on.

"Feels like I've been hit by a goddamn semi…Uce, what the fuck did I do?" to emphasize his words, he groans and throws his head back.

"You don't remember how you got here?"

Josh offered a shake of his head.

"Nah, the last thing I remember was leaving Sefa's birthday celebration at Disney."

This had Jon furrowing his brows. They'd taken Sefa there for his birthday almost three years ago. How could Josh's last memory be from three fucking years ago?

"Josh…how old are we?" 

It was clear the question confused his twin, but he scoffed and turned his head to look at Jon once more. 

"We gon' be eighteen, Uce." 

Jon was silent. He wasn't sure what he was meant to say. His brother had lost three years. Meaning he had no fucking idea who Rami was, or that they'd be signing contracts with NXT in a matter of weeks. He didn't know that him, Joe and Jon all lived together. 

Lucky for him, Joe seemed to have caught the tail end of their conversation, and quickly butted in.

"I'm gonna get a nurse. To let them know you're up, yeah?" His eyes met Jon's, and his message was clear. 

"Don't tell Josh anything yet." Jon wasn't sure how he'd tell him anyway, so he'd leave that to the doctors. 

Maybe Josh was just disoriented and would soon gather his bearings. Maybe this memory loss was permanent. 

If it was…Jon isn't too confident for what it means moving forward.

[anfeycare]

(WARNING: blood)

"And I thought this couldn't get worse."

"And to think I believed this was going to feel any different..."

these sketches can be taken metaphorically or not (or both), and that can either be his or someone else's blood (or both...?)

(i particularly interpret that as being his own blood, and i interpret the sketches as being both a metaphor and not a metaphor at the same time. could also be interpreted in a trans way — even if it would make the sketches look a little hyperbolic and this is more blood than that would have — to be honest: he got on his period-)

anyways, feel free to have your own interpretations

[in-love-with-writing-whump]

Prompt

Whumpee and Caretaker had been through hell and back together countless times, and somewhere between rough beginnings and the present, they'd fallen in love. Whumpee spent years by their side, a stoic right hand who carried out the will of Caretaker, the virtuous leader of the group, making the tough calls, but not without guilt that they admitted to Whumpee behind closed doors. In turn, Whumpee would open up about their own past and concerns. They were each other’s person, matching halves.

Most didn't know about their relationship, not really anyway. There were rumors of course, but given Caretaker's rank, things were mostly kept quiet. A, Caretaker and Whumpee's friend, knew and often was the one spreading rumors, making jokes about how Caretaker and Whumpee embodied the "tall x smol" dynamic.

One day, Caretaker dies in a battle of some sort, and despite Whumpee's efforts, they can't stop them from bleeding to death. A watches with utter horror, openly bursting into tears as Whumpee closes Caretaker's eyes.

The rest of the group grieves quietly, busy tending to their wounds, not paying much mind as Whumpee and A take Caretaker's body to a nearby building where they can retrieve it later for burial.

For the first time ever, A sees Whumpee fall apart, kneeling before them, crying violently. They find themself at a loss for words, Whumpee's screams of agony the only sound in the building.

The only difference the rest of the group seemed to notice when they returned was that Whumpee's cloak/coat was a bit larger. Only A knew that it was Caretaker's name inscribed on the inside.

[acageddragon]

XAVIER BITES THE FUCKING CURB 4K

PICE OF POOOP RAUGHHH!!!

You know it’s bad when a fucking dweeb kicks your ass. How bad do you mess up to let Dane of all people get to that point ?!

Alas, he deserves he.

[manufacturedrainbows]

True friends let you vent about your shitty ex and don't point out how forced your smile is 😎👌

Dallas has been through a lot, but in the end, he got out 🖤

Everyone say "thank you Yariel for being a real one" 😭👏

[leafycasper]

I finally finished my Hazbin Moulin Rouge animatic! I'll eventually post it to YouTube but for now I'm posting it here. I finished this like two weeks ago and then proceeded to do nothing about so here it is now!

[PLEASE DON'T REPOST WITHOUT CREDIT]

[drew-dopamine]

not my silly ass hating myself for being a trans guy and feeling like I’m doomed to become a misogynist horrible person if I ever try to transition if I’m not already a misogynist horrible person because I’m a guy right now 😜😜😜😜😜

[heart-shaped-chains]

Hello Tumblr I'm not dead. Life has sucked ass but I'm too mad and it's too much to describe so somewhat NSFW and cringe COD OC art dump under the cut. Came up with this in a day. This entire sketch was cause I was bored, waiting for my phone to charge and it took FOREVVERRR to even come to life so I decided to sketch/jot down ideas 4 my Little Army Dreamers Fallout (only the show cause I'm weak) inspired AU which. Is a lot.

So I will post screenshots of a synopsis and make a separate blog to post my stuff unless the COD ppl are rocking with me. Anyway um. Here's some doodles out of the way. Shitty ones first 2 build up expectations cause I'M SOO out of practice but anyway pls give me attention I need it m so proud of myself I wanna put these on the fridge....(NOT THIS))

Actually nvm here's an example to hopefully entice u....

Mr stick figure Riley. Ugh. Not very happy with the face but basically. 19 year old rookie goes through shit within a three year span, gets drunk at a banquet hall 2 weeks after a grueling mission bc Price dragged my super cool, war criminal self insert there 2 cool off. Kid goes off on a room full of Generals and royalty and corporate oligarchs and then while he's drunken and coked up and he can barely move and shit, he starts WWIII. In the fucking hall. And the BIG goal is to blow up the Pentagon (IN COD, FBI AGENTS IN COD) to stop them from dropping the big atomic bomb and they have FIVE DAYS to do it!!!.

And this is AFTER the NPD, OCD Autism and more ridden Sargeant goes from fuckin. Scared rookie, to respected team player, to a fierce Sargeant, to the most hated man in the WORLD. All because he didn't wanna go to a stupid fucking party. Anyway here it goes hope this is at least interesting. I **will** make a series. Whether it's an OC/self insert or a reader insert or even new characters to make it super my own. But I hope you guys like it. I'll shut up now and please be nice about any constructive criticism lmao.

LAMEEEEE BOO-HOOO. Not awful like. An artist DIDE draw these and this was my first time drawing Riley so I'm sorry that he's so weird. I hope y'all like my other designs cause they're so good. Gonna stfu let the pics talk and see where it goes from here

But I'll shut up and give my detailed thoughts either in the reblogs or I'll edit them in later. Here it GOES!!!!

This took under 2 hours. Arthritic hands didn't do SHIT!!! Not a fan of everything but considering it was just a bored sketch and not actually meant 2 be anatomy practice, I hope y'all like it. Thank the Lord for big, buff men who could kill me. I NEED. Bf soon man. Any of these body types are fuckin awesome. Please feel free to comment and be as annoying as you want about this bc I want it to b enjoyed.

[artificialqueens]

🏳️‍🌈 Rock Hudson’s Parties, Chapter 3 (Jadore/Biadore) - Imafuckinglibra

Summary: A fresh faced young man gets off a bus in New York to move in with an estranged college friend, now a broadway star. Old flames flare up again but are potentially derailed when an older man’s temptations threaten to come between them.

Fair Warning : Nothing! This chapter is just a good time and we’re all happy and enjoying some uh…bonding time…hehe

“Who knew a C-list celebrity would have to go out THIS much,” Danny fussed into his cocktail the following Wednesday night. “Why, I’m missing I’ve Got a Secret.”

He put his glass down, examined the area around him and realized that yet again, nobody at the table had been paying attention to him. 

He felt the corners of his mouth twisting into a pout, but he knew if he let it show he’d just be giving in to those same feelings of inadequacy he did in Azusa. 

‘You’re better now,’ he reminded himself.

“I say, doll…” He tried running his fingers along Jinx's knuckles, earning a dismissive wave of her manicured hand with the cigarette between her fingers. His tone rose in frustration as he tried her again, “I SAID, Jinkx, I’m missing this week’s I’ve Got a Secret! And I heard a rumor Lana Turner is gonna be on this week to talk about her daught-“

His whining got halted by an eruption of raucous laughter from the table of cronies who’d just been ignoring him. Making snide remarks under their drunken giggles about the sort of people who follow those fanatic magazines full of false stories.

“Stop being such a girl about it,” she said, poking a sore spot. “Go fetch me another drink and I’ll make up for whatever little show you’re missing later. Deal?” she purred into his ear, giving him a peck on the cheek.

He groaned under his breath, unamused by the gaggle of girls swooning over Jinkx yet again, but he decided to swallow his pride. 

He stood up with a heavy sigh and put-upon smile, giving her hand a small kiss to feign forgiveness. “Why of course, dear. Right away.”

“Tsk, tsk, tsk,” Roy and Raja clucked in unison as he approached them by the bar, the pair like a flock of hungry vultures watching the group by the table. The only hungry vultures, it seemed, who bothered entertaining him these days, as Jinkx’s debut as Essie Whimple drew closer.

The same vultures he’d avoided like the plague before, but he’d finally settled in, finally stopped staring into the mirror trying to find what was wrong with him - mostly. He still felt a certain sense of unease around Roy specifically but he seemingly couldn’t care less anymore about, well, you know. Their little misunderstanding. 

“I say, well handled, son,”  Roy mocked. Placing a proud hand on his shoulder, his other hand clutching his dark maroon tie as if he was Jim Anderson himself. “A happy wife is a happy life, right, my boy?”

“Get bent.” Danny tried acting serious, paying no mind to Roy cackling loudly at his own joke.

“Forget Bozo here, I’ll get that drink for you while I’m back here.” Raja, who was most definitely breaking at least 3 work place rules, took Jinkx’s empty wine glass and refilled it.

“You staying a while? I heard some serious scoop on tonight’s episode of I've Got a Secret.” Roy leaned over the bar where the three of them could gossip.

“No!” Danny gasped, following suit, taking the already poured red wine originally intended for Jinkx as his own. “Is it Lana Turner?”

“What? No. It’s Walter Slezak, and I heard…Lana T-“ he interrupted himself to sneer at Danny in bewilderment. “Lana Turner? Who gave you that idea?”

Danny flashed a scowl at Raja, who was casually whistling in the opposite direction to avoid eye contact before Roy’s words sank in.

“Walter Slezak!” Raja and Danny’s eyes went wide in unison.

Raja enthusiastically slapped Danny’s hand like a giddy secretary with some juicy story about the boss. “Boy, he’s amazing. Did you catch him in Born to Kill?”

“Wasn’t he great?”

“To die for,” she swooned. “Did you see him in Lifeboat? Gave me chills for weeks - oof.” She shuddered, an imaginary shiver running down her spine.

“Like this?” Roy teased, sliding an ice cube down the exposed back of her signature gold fitted dress. 

“Fucking - piece of shit!” she hissed at him, trying to keep her voice down. Luckily the rest of the bar was too lively with music, Danny the only one close enough to actually hear her shrieks. She turned to him, growling, “If you laugh, so help me!”

“I didn’t -“ Danny tried defending himself with his hands raised, but his loud belly laughing got the better of him. Raja playfully threw the ice cube in his direction, not helping curb his amusement, making her break face too.

“Raja! There’s people waiting by the door, go take their coats!” Kameron, one of the busgirls, whistled in their direction when she passed with a tray of empty plates from the dining hall.

“Ugh.” Raja dropped her cheery disposition, slugging the last of her Chardonnay. “Coming!”

She waved another finger in their direction as a threat, muttering some more, presumably obscenities, in a language Danny couldn’t recognize, and sauntered off to go greet the newest clientele for the evening. Leaving our little protagonist and his friend at the bar alone.

This wasn’t a rare occurrence though. In fact, it had become his favorite part of the day, ever since Roy agreed to keep his little secret. Some days, he’d satisfy himself just being there to watch Roy mingle with folks. Even when he was doing his own mingling with the Broadway elites (and elite followers) by Jinkx’s side. Playing her little show poodle when she required a domestic air for an interview or meeting. 

They’d always at least manage to catch each other's eye and give a sympathetic smile.

“Gosh,” he sighed, content, noticing a hint of Roy’s dimples as he greeted a regular customer waving from another table. 

He really was so devastatingly beautiful. It was hard not to see him as the picture-perfect man, with his devil-may-care attitude and utterly fashionable taste in clothes. The catalyst for their friendly banter was that Roy would always fill him in on that night’s episodes he missed, or behind the scenes tidbits he’d heard from industry friends.

It started that very night last week, at the table while they waited for everyone to return. Roy made a joke about Danny’s hands being smaller than Katherine Hepburn’s in an attempt to lighten the mood. Clearly, he wasn’t prepared for the onslaught of questions regarding the movie star, nor the ungodly amount of fan trivia he seemed to know about her and her fellow celebrities. 

Their conversation and gossiping lasted well into the night once Jinkx’s new director left, even after they made their way over to a group of club singers so Jinkx could catch up with her former coworkers.

“Beg pardon?” Roy turned around, hearing the little escaped whisper.

“Nothing,” he smiled, innocence dripping from every pore.

“Yeah riiiiight…” Roy dragged out, eyeing him suspiciously. “You’re not playing with a full deck, are you?”

“Oh yeah?” Danny huffed, “well uh…” 

‘Dammit!’ He tried to remember any, literally any single reasonable response to his but his impulse for childish comebacks got the better of him. 

“I think somebody blew your pilot light out, Haylock.” He crossed his arms and dropped himself against the bar. Unknowingly sticking his bottom lip out in a pout.

“They did what?” Roy slapped the table. He burst out into a loud laughing fit with his hand on his chest. “My -“ 

“You’ve got splinters in the windmill of your mind!” Danny reiterated, his confidence growing every time Roy’s laugh would pick up again.

“I’m too drunk for this shit,” Roy exhaled, trying to wipe a tear from the corner of his eye.

“Well then,” Danny reached over for a new glass under the counter. “Fill her up, let’s even it out.”

“Ooooh,” Roy pursed his lips, tutting and shaking his head. “That’s not such a good idea there, partner.”

“Oh yeah? Why not? Scared I can out-drink you?”

Danny felt brave, irresponsibly brave. Like just maybe he might be able to actually turn his night around, maybe even finally see the always-put-together Roy properly hammered. No pun intended, of course.

Sure, he’d probably be late for work again in the morning, but he could always find a special way to make up for that.

Or better yet, maybe he’d have to spend the whole day ‘recovering’ with Roy. Just the two of them…

‘What am I thinking?’ he panicked when he realized what he was fantasizing about.

“Hello?” Roy tapped his index finger on Danny’s forehead. “Knock knock, your drink’s ready.”

“Right.” Danny practically inhaled the scotch Roy had given him. It burned all the way down to his stomach.

“Fucking hell -“ Roy started but another small chuckle interrupted his words. “Now who’s the one playing hockey with a warped puck?”

“What does that one even mean?” Danny giggled, already feeling his bravery being replaced by downright giddiness.

“It means, clean your own damn house before you come clean mine.” Roy stood serious. His hands against the bar as if he was waiting for Danny to come back with another retort. 

“Huh?”

Roy leaned in closer whispering, “it means you’re lucky you’re cute because you definitely ain’t smart.”

Danny’s heart shot straight up to his throat. Unsure how to process or what to say when all he could feel was his head going dizzy and his cheeks growing warm. 

He even debated another snippy comeback when suddenly, a lightbulb went off above Roy’s head. 

“Say! Lady Bunny just got a television set in her office, I could sneak you in to go watch the episode-”

Without missing a beat, Danny sprang up, ready to bolt towards the back room, only stopped by his mother’s voice in his head.

‘You need to stop getting so worked up about everything, people will think you’re some mental deficit!’

He covered his open mouth with a cough and pretended to straighten his pants.

“Well?” Roy slammed his drink down and slapped him on the flat of his back, asking, “Do you need a pistol shot or something? Go! Hurry!”

‘To hell with her,’ he stood up for himself.

And just like that, they were off, scurrying to the back office without a second thought about Jinkx, her drink, or the laughing lackeys still keeping her attention.

“Wait…No...” Roy tilted his head in confusion when a loud moan echoed from behind the big red door, just as he was about to turn the handle. “Is that…?”

“It can’t be…” Danny failed to hide a giggle. “It actually worked.”

Roy scrunched his forehead, concentrating with his ear to the door. Confirming it with a placid, “Courtney.” 

“Well yeah, and Dan.”

“Who the -'' Roy realized how loud they were speaking, changing his tone to an aggressive whisper, “Who the fuck is Dan?”

“Dan P. Donigan! My boss!” he declared, lowering his own voice too. 

“Why’s your boss banging my Courtney?” Roy asked, clearly somewhat amused by this revelation

“I needed to make up for the days I missed!”

“What?” Roy tilted his head.

“I had to make up for the day I missed with you, and…some others,” he mumbled, “and when I let it slip to Courtney she said she could soften him up for me before I apologized,” Danny clarified as if this was a reasonable answer.

“Which I’m assuming was tonight?” 

Suddenly Danny felt like he was being interrogated by a school principal. “Yes, sir…”

“Hey!” Roy prodded a finger into his chest, making him wince, his teeth snared. “Stop pimping out MY slut to your coworkers!”

“I’m not! I’m pimping out MY coworkers to your slut!” He watched Roy’s expression intently. Trying to piece together what was happening in his mind as his brows stayed contorted in anger but his lips softened into a stifled grin. 

“You two, heaven help me.” Roy gave in, rubbing his eyes. Gesturing with his head and a pat on Danny’s back towards the bar. “C'mon, I’ll make you a drink.”

Before they could reach the bar, Raja grabbed his attention while Roy rushed to make up for the orders he missed. 

“What? What’d I do?” Danny stumbled a bit thanks to how hard she yanked on his sleeve.  

“Nothin’, Jinkxy just left. She said sorry she missed you but she’s going to an after party with those little devils that follow her,” Raja casually said while gesturing with her fingers towards the bar. 

“Oh...” Danny blinked. His eyes trailed across the lounge part of the bar, examining every spot he usually found Jinkx in, but she really had left without him.

“Thank you, baby.” Raja’s voice interrupted his focused scanning. The familiar clink of the glasses on the serving tray telling him he’d been zoned out at least long enough for Raja to reach Roy, place the drink order and Roy to make it. 

“If anyone complains, tell them it took so long because we wanted to get a fresh bottle for them or some shit.” 

“Guess I’m not invited.” Danny dropped onto one of the barstools, feeling suddenly like he did in middle school when he’d get picked last in gym class.

He gazed longingly at the door like a lost puppy waiting for its owner to return to the shelter, his mood dropping nearly as low as his slumped shoulders.

“You didn’t want to go anyway,” Roy reminded him, rolling his eyes, wiping down the bar. 

He was right. But Danny was much too proud to admit it, obviously. 

“I suppose…” 

Dammit.

Roy, despite his best attempt at a hard exterior, did that thing again where he’d soften his approach whenever Danny grew wistful. 

“Forget it. I’ll make you something on the house. What’s your poison tonight?”

“You hopefully,” slipped from Danny’s mouth before his brain had time to filter it.

“What?”

“What?” He quickly coughed, trying to save what he could from the situation as if his throat was too dry to finish the sentence. Gesturing feebly to his collar. “What…ever, you can make the fastest.”

He spun around on his barstool slowly, trying to remain casual as he made eye contact with Roy, assuming he’d turn back to the bar.

Instead, he had once again caught him in a staring contest, his eyes narrowed. Clearly not buying whatever bullshit Danny was trying to sell him. 

‘God, his eyes are beautiful…’ he thought absentmindedly. 

Lost in the deep browns of his eyes he tried his best to fight against swooning, wondering if he’d pick up on it. But how could he not see it?

Roy was so focused on watching him, Danny began to feel like the last piece of turkey on Thanksgiving dinner. Surely he knew what he was doing, surely he wanted—

“That your boss?” Roy nodded his head, snapping Danny back to reality. His face was pulled in an odd confusion, as if he was trying to figure out what Courtney saw in him.

“Where?” Danny swung the stool in the direction of Bunny’s office.

“He’s smiling pretty big; if I was a betting man, I’d say you’re off the hook,” Roy started but Danny was still trying to find Dan in the wrong direction. He grabbed his head and turned him towards the entrance. “Over there you idiot!”

“Wait, is he really smiling?” he perked up, finally the right way. Just in time to catch Courtney kiss Dan goodbye before he smugly plopped his hat on his head and swagger out with all the overconfidence of a cat who just ate the canary, the cage and the goldfish for good measure.

“Atta girl, Court!” he cheered, after Dan finally walked out.

“Yep…at-ta girl.” Roy sarcastically clapped in her direction. 

“Details, all the details!” he exclaimed, waving her over.

“Yeah, come here, my little Court-esan.” Roy curled his index finger inwards, beckoning to her as if she was a rotten child walking towards a spanking. “Come tell me what you did this time.”

Although he acted pretty peeved, Danny could tell Roy didn’t mean it. In all his time there, and in all the different ways he’d heard or seen Courtney getting screwed, never once had Roy made a mean remark about it. 

In fact, he’d never seen him make any harsh (untrue) comments towards her like he often did with others. Calling a performer’s voice one night a dead ringer for ‘What can only be described as how syphilis sores feels.’

No, the two of them must’ve been old friends. It was obvious, not just by their banter and affectionate little pets but the way Roy seemed so protective over her. Like an older brother or even a father figure would be. 

He also came to the conclusion that of the three of them, SHE might’ve been the best read. It was almost impressive how she floated about between lovers and managed to carry on the most interesting conversations known to man in one breath. Only stopping to powder her nose between the two.

For all their teasing, he had to give it to her. She wasn’t a slut, she was just built that way. Good for her.

“Bunny’s gonna’ kill you, you know!” Roy put his hands on his hips.

“Why?” Courtney, who had hopped up to sit on the bar, asked. 

“Do you want a list?” Roy scoffed. “Where should we start? You were late for - stop it.” He swatted at one of her legs when she tried to wiggle her foot against his rib cage.

“Can’t we just-“

“No,” Roy shut her down.

“Fine-uh,” Courtney whined. She pulled her leg back from poking him and hooked it over her other one, making her dress lift just enough Danny swore he could see a run in her stockings. Almost as if someone’s fingernails grabbed at them. 

Danny tugged at his tight collar. The temperature in the room must’ve raised a solid 20 degrees as the likelihood of said fingernails belonging to his uptight, no-nonsense boss dawned on him. 

He originally assumed by “buttering him up,” Courtney meant maybe a little extra flirting, maybe even a kiss or some heavy petting if she was feeling extra generous.

And the office rendezvous caught him off guard, sure, but ripped tights and what looked like a hickey below her earlobe? Absolutely above and beyond service.

‘I should get her a thank you present…I wonder if she likes chocolate?’ Danny considered. Inadvertently staring at her as he tried to remember the heart shaped boxes of chocolates he passed in a window not long ago. 

“Take a picture, love.” Courtney smiled sweetly, hiking her skirt up just enough that he could admire her thighs in all their glory.

“Oh! I wasn’t…I didn’t mean…I…” Danny stuttered, looking at Roy first for help before he regained his train of thought. “Sure, if you insist.”

“See what you’ve done? Hasn’t he had a hard enough night?” Roy finally took the attention off of him.

“Oh come off it,” Courtney gave a little titter. “He’s a nice big boy, he can tell me when he’s had enough.” She patted his shoulder. “So, you want a picture, huh?”

“Well…” Danny realized it was finally his turn to speak but no words came out. Courtney’s hand slid down, curving over his collarbone before going back up. 

“Down, beast!” Roy scolded, cracking the dishcloth he had nearby against her forearm. “Stop stalling and tell me about this…” he impatiently snapped his fingers.

“Dan,” they both answered.

“Dan, right. What do we know about this guy?”

“Well, he’s 6’2”, maybe 6’4”. Works at Danny’s bank, obviously, and I think about…” Courtney pursed her lips, holding her palms facing each other out in front of her, “about this-“

“That’ll do,” Roy picked up on what she was doing.

“About uh…” She found a length she liked. “This long I reckon.”

“Ugh, I said that’ll do, Court!” Roy’s voice raised in frustration. Finally getting her attention. “Can we not have one night in this joint without you discussing your excursions?”

Danny decided this wasn’t his battle to fight so he kept his distance, hiding his muffled giggling behind his hand so the bickering pair wouldn’t catch on. 

“It’s impolite to write personal things down about other people.” She put her hands on her hips, “So if I didn’t tell you, I’d forget their pros and cons, and I can’t make that mistake again, can I?”

“This is why I don’t take you to industry parties with me,” Roy facepalmed, rubbing his tired eyes with his thumb and index finger. 

“No, you don’t take me because-“

“That’s 5.5 inches,” Danny declared with a satisfied nod. Sure in his math until he noticed the pair had stopped bickering and were looking at him in complete confusion.

“How - what?” Roy tried hiding his laughter. “Is this what you went to college for?”

“No, let him finish, this could be useful,” Courtney said in all seriousness, raising her brows in Roy’s direction, but he shook his head at her. 

“Those types of acts stopped showing publicly in the carny days, before even vaudeville thank you very much.”

“You’d know, you were there,” Danny mumbled under his breath, upset that Roy didn’t find his accurate measuring impressive.

“Oh I’m sorry, are we feeling a little testy again, Mister ‘I cried when the man stopped drawing the deer in Bambi’?” teased Roy.

“I don’t know, do we think we’re funny, Mister ‘I got rejected to be the 6th Marx brother’?” Danny challenged. Refusing to let Roy win this round. 

“Boys, boys, boys,” Courtney chimed between them, her tone more exasperated this time,  rolling her eyes. “Just whip them out already and get a ruler…or a room.” She tilted her head towards the back of the club with a smirk. “Or an office.”

“Nobody asked you.” Roy shot her a warning look, the same expression he normally gave right before he’d yell at one of the servers for screwing up. “Just get back to work, please.”

“Oh I don’t mind,” she turned to Danny with her hand on her chest. “If you guys want to, you know… “ she clicked her tongue in the back room’s direction. 

“Okay, that’s enough!” Roy shouted, pushing her off the bar top while she wasn’t looking. “Thanks for dropping in, get to steppin’, buh bye.”

Danny didn’t know whether to laugh at her falling or the way Roy was waving his towel as he continued arguing with her about fixing her make up before her next set. 

“Fine! How ‘bout next time I just put a box over my head and you can draw some lipstick on it!” Courtney yelled over her shoulder. She tried to get the last word in as she made her way to the tiny dressing room hidden behind the stage. 

“It would be an improvement!” Roy yelled back. “What the-“ 

Danny flicked one of the peanuts that had fallen out the bowl in front of him, hitting Roy square on the chin.

“Oh you son of a bitch!” Roy exclaimed when a second one hit his cheek. “Just for that, you’re buying me a drink.”

“Worth it,” Danny grinned. He swiveled around on his stool, victorious for once, watching Roy dig around in the bottles beneath them. 

“Actually, you know what I’d kill for right now? I worked on a picture with Guy Madison last year and he gave me this really terrific bottle of bourbon,” he began as he poured them each a glass of scotch. “If you ever actually come see my place, you should have a drink.”

“See your place?” Danny swallowed. 

‘Oh god what does he mean? What’s he implying?’ He started panicking. ‘We agreed it was all a misunderstanding but does he…does he actually want me now? Is this a real invitation?’

His mind was spiraling, and Roy taking his sweet time to pour each glass wasn’t helping matters. Danny wondered if he should shoot down the offer right there, but before he could make up his mind, Roy finally slid the glass his way.

“I mean, if you guys want to come over for dinner or something.”

‘Oh, of course he wasn’t talking about…me,’ Danny realized. He could feel his shoulders slump forward again in an oddly disappointed way. He couldn’t show it however, not there in front of Roy. 

“Dinner?” Danny frowned, hiding his true feelings. “You can cook?”

Roy took a sip from his drink. “Of course I can cook, what do you mean?”

“Oh yeah? And what are you gonna give us? Indigestion?”

“Fine,” Roy conceded, smacking his lips. “Or you can come by for tailoring. We really need to get you out of those shitty little Hooverville suits.” He curled his top lip, looking him over. “I’d say no offense but they really do look hideous.”

“Heeeey,” Danny whined, clutching his lapels as if they could hear the insult. “These are catalog.”

Roy stood taller and pinched a piece of his pants to show Danny the seams. “And this is custom-made by the same guy who tailors costumes for Rosalind Russell, you see my point?”

“Rosalind…Russell?” Danny’s eyes went wide, reaching for the bit he was holding to feel the texture of the higher quality fabric. 

When his hand touched Roy’s thigh he swore he could feel his breath hitch, followed by Roy’s eyes panning down, presumably also aware of how intimate the moment had unwittingly become. 

‘Shit.’ He realized he had gotten a tad too close for comfort and pulled back. 

He sat down innocently as if nothing had happened, like when you get pulled over for driving over the limit and brace yourself to compliment your way out of it. “Boy, you know you’re everything I want to be when I’m 57.”

“Why I oughta-“ Roy gasped. Pulling his best Joan Crawford impression, he leaned down close to him. “Look, so help me, I’m gonna slug you.”

“There's a name for you ladies, but it isn't used in high society...outside of a kennel,” he retorted, proud of himself for not only remembering the line from The Women but also for making Roy’s dimples deepen when he said it. 

“Try me,” Roy challenged, shooting Danny with a peanut right between the eyes.

“Ow! Danny furiously tried to rub the sore spot better on his forehead. “Hey-uh! That was a dirty trick!” he whined.

He must have looked absolutely pathetic, as Roy’s face flashed all the way from pity straight into hysterics. 

“Oh, you poor little simple thing, don’t ever change.” Roy grasped his shoulder, his laughs turning higher pitched than Danny had heard before. He wiped at his eye with the back of his hand. “God, I’d be bored without you here.”

“What?” Danny perked up, unsure if he heard that right.

“I said,” Roy’s laughter started calming down. “Oh nevermind. Forget it. I need a piss.” 

Many hours and many, many drinks later, Danny figured he had enough liquid courage in him to finally go see Roy’s apartment. Platonically, of course.

“I’m heading home soon, I was wondering if you’d like a stroll?” he asked Roy at the end of the night, when the last tipsy crowd began to trickle out.

“Sure, yeah. I’d love to, but I gotta go take inventory and lock up some stuff. Would you mind helping out?” Roy barely even looked up from writing down some numbers of reservations for the next night. As if the revelation of Danny’s intentions hadn’t hit him yet. Not that he had any intentions. Maybe.

“Counting? Please, it's my job.”

Finally, Roy lifted his head, dropping an elbow on the counter, resting his head in his hand as he looked on in astonishment. “I always forget that, I’m amazed when you bring it up.” 

“What? My job?” Danny blushed. His parents had told him a job at a bank would be respectable, but he didn’t see it, until now maybe. 

“No.” Roy laughed suddenly, dropping the act just as quick and standing up straight. “That you can count.”

‘This piece of work.’ Danny thought. He was caught off guard by his mockery but didn’t want to give Roy the satisfaction of knowing that. 

“Bang zoom, Haylock! You’re going to the moon!” he mimicked Ralph Kramden, hoping the little reference would earn at least a chuckle from the equally fanatical Roy.

“Good one,” he praised, looking up at the fist Danny still held in his face. He gave it a playful tap with his pen, his own little version of a gold star. 

‘Success.’

Thanks to that little pick-me-up, the inventory they had to do went by, as Roy noted, faster than usual, both men forgetting about the time as they waved off the last of the wait staff and performers.

“All I’m saying is, knowing her, it was a stunt.” Roy threw his hands up, his pen nearly hitting a passing waitress.

“Knowing her,” Danny blew a raspberry. “I know you think your shit don’t stink, but there’s no way you know Joan Crawford.”

“I didn’t say I know her personally,” Roy defended.

Danny, annoyed at Roy for missing the point, batted his eyelashes at him before trying again. “Fine. You know what the tabloids say about her, that’s my point! I think at the ‘46 Academy Awards, she and everyone there knew there was no way she would lose.”

“But then why wasn’t she there?” Roy slammed his fist on the table, clearly fed up with how long this conversation had gone on.

Danny however, was not prepared to give in just yet, enjoying their little argument and seeing Roy get so flustered far too much. 

“Because she’s a deeply paranoid and emotional person, who doesn’t want to show her weak side because that way people can’t use it against her the way she uses their weaknesses against them!” he finally exhaled. 

“Oh brother,” Roy rolled his eyes. “So she’s just a bitch, is your excuse?”

“Pot meet kettle.” Danny waved his hands in Roy’s direction, making his dimples deepen in that tell-tale ‘you got me’ grin he’d grown so fond of. 

“Fine,“ Roy conceded, taking another sip from his now lukewarm drink. “Ugh, this is worse than your fashion sense,” he pulled a face, scooting the drink away. “But for the record, I do know Joan Crawford, semi-personally, and she would pull a stunt like that.”

“You’re such a fucking liar,” Danny spat like an annoyed teenager. “I bet you’re just making that up again so -“

“Boys!” Courtney tottered into the storage room where they’d been counting bottles. Clearly one too many deep herself. “Have one of you still not pinned the other against the milk crates?”

“Shut up, Courtney!” they both shouted in unison, Danny not even registering what she was saying thanks to his own impeded thinking.

“Danny, my love.” She threw an arm over his shoulder, pulling him in close to not-so-subtly whisper in his ear. “Make him show you how…you know, express what he's got.”

“Shut up, Courtney,” Roy repeated.

“Make me.” She licked her lip, lunging forward to grab both of them in a big bear hug. “Actually don’t, I’m on my way out with Morgan and Kameron.”

“Yuck.” Danny scoffed under his breath, trying to pretend it didn’t turn him on just a little bit…a lotta bit…

“Crushed between all those muscles…Roy,” she turned to him, cooing, “If tonight is the night I finally go, write that I died happy on my tombstone.”

“Write it yourself!” Roy pushed her away with his elbow. “And quit distracting us. I want to go home and this idiot can barely count to 12 without getting lost.”

“Hey!”

“Listen, you little shit, you’ve been counting the same stack of tequila for 14 minutes and you still haven’t gotten past the 2nd shelf.”

“Oh?” Danny looked at the shelves. Realizing that Roy had been right, he sheepishly smiled at him with a pathetic, “Oops?”

Courtney tutted, shaking her blonde hair over her shoulders. “I guess you’ll have to teach him a lesson. I recommend a good wallop across the bum.”

“I recommend a cup of coffee and a cold shower.” Roy crossed his arms at her like a disappointed father. 

“And why would I listen to you?” she challenged, mirroring his stance even down to the way his left brow was raised. 

“Because sometimes, SOMETIMES, only once in a blue moon…I’m wrong. I can’t be wrong twice in one night, can I?”

“Is this your way of apologizing for being an ass?” Courtney asked, throwing her hands around his neck for a hug.

“Maybe,” Roy hugged her back, pulling her tightly into his arms till she stood on her tippy toes. “Do you forgive me?”

“Only if you buy me a big box of chocolates.” 

‘Definitely likes chocolates,’ Danny noted to himself.

“Deal. Now go with your little toys,” Roy let her go, “and when you’re done, drink lots of water. Love you, be safe.”

The pair exchanged quick air kisses. Danny couldn’t help himself but smile at how lovingly Roy doted over her, making sure she listened to him before he shoved her away into the waiting arms of Kameron. 

“You know,” Danny sat down in his makeshift seat, lighting them cigarettes. “You two would make a cute couple if you weren’t,” he swallowed, “you know...”

“Gee thanks.” Roy took his cigarette from him, shoving his seat away so he could count the tequila instead.

“Hey, what did Courtney mean-“ Danny tried asking about Courtney’s earlier statement about the office but Roy shushed him. 

“10, 12, 14…” Roy kept counting under his breath. His brows tightly furrowed, concentrating on every label. “16, 18…19?” He curled his top lip at the tequila bottles. 

“20.” Danny held up the bottle Roy had poured himself a drink out of when they started counting bottles. 

“Knew I kept you around for a reason,” Roy let out a relieved sigh. “20. Beautiful, done.”

Roy put the bottle back carefully onto the shelf, wrote down the number on his clipboard and hooked his pen over the sheet of paper. Finally! Their cue to hit the road.

Danny’s stomach was in knots, boozy butterflies floating about at the anticipation of more intimate alone time. The thought made him nauseous with doubt but it was too enticing to pass up, just like those enormous Ferris wheels his parents took him to when he was a little boy.

Every time he’d question his decision, he’d look to his left towards Roy for some new motivation, reminding himself that he wasn’t doing anything wrong. Just walking side by side as they’d done many a night, simply without Jinkx in the middle this time, and if he had to be honest it felt freeing. 

Liberating even. 

“Well then, who do you think should’ve won?” Roy asked, turning the corner to their block.

“Seriously? Such an easy answer,” Danny raised his shoulders in exasperation. It seemed like every time they reached the Best Actress category in their little debates Roy would scoff at his answers just to get a rise out of him, even some of the ones he, sometimes reluctantly, agreed with. “Judy Garland, obviously.”

Roy scrunched up his nose as if he was thinking over Danny’s answer before he sighed, “I don’t know-“

“Oh brother, what do you have against Judy mother-fucking Garland?” Danny interrupted him, using the same phrase Roy had used for Deborah Kerr earlier against himself.

“Grace - you asshole.” Roy fumbled over his words, hiding a proud chuckle. “Grace Kelly deserved it, I think they voted for the right bitch.“

“Well I think you’re wrong,” Danny huffed. “And I think if Courtney was here she’d agree with me.”

“Is that so?”

“And she’d call you a dickhead!” He tried his best to imitate her Australian accent but just couldn’t quite get it right, causing him to laugh at his own joke. 

“Well, well,” Roy swayed towards him, bumping their shoulders together. “Careful, someone might say the club is rubbing off on you.” 

He was right, obviously. Even Danny could feel the shift in his personality since he moved to New York just a few weeks earlier. Specifically since he started hanging out at the club with Roy and the others. 

“Would that be so bad?” he asked out loud, more to himself than anyone else truth be told.

“It would make you right more often.” 

“I am right. Judy should’ve won.”

“As much as I would like to agree with you, I can't. Why do you think she should’ve won, huh? Because she’s been around so long? Because she…” Roy gestured with over the top quotation marks, “‘overcame’ her struggles to make a good goddamn movie? Because it was an absolutely terrific movie, don't get me wrong, she damn near made me shed a tear.”

“Well…then why don’t you think she should’ve won?” Danny came to a standstill, confused by Roy’s argument. 

“Think about it.” Roy stopped walking as well, stepping back a few steps to be equal with Danny again. “Those are all amazing qualities, but you can’t just up and say ‘I did my best so I deserve the thing I want’, you have to be able to show people you’re in it for the long run, Judy isn’t that girl anymore but Grace Kelly is.”

“But she did show up!” Danny tried reasoning back. “Maybe not the way you wanted her too but she tried.”

“That’s show business for you,” Roy shrugged.

“James Mason didn’t win either, which is complete bullshit,” Danny scoffed, resuming his walking.

“That I can agree with.” 

“So…thanks for letting me hang around all night, you sure I wasn’t a bother?” Danny finally asked when they reached Roy’s apartment door. Just before they began to discuss that year’s winners.

Before he answered, Roy took the time to dig in his thick black coat’s pocket and pull out a couple of cigarettes, lighting one for each of them between his teeth. A little habit Danny had grown quite fond of him doing when he didn’t think people would notice. 

“You know, I actually had a good time. I really appreciated the help, thanks.”

“You’re very welcome, I’d do it again any- any time really.” He stumbled over his words a bit. Roy’s lips were too distracting as he took a big drag of his cigarette.

“With the amount of scotch you had, I probably don’t have to ask if you had a good time?” Roy teased, his lips twisting into a faint smile. 

Danny couldn’t help but blush, especially since Roy covered most of the drinks he ended up having. An act of kindness he appreciated; his wallet was looking a little too thin as it was tonight, with Jinkx skipping out before the tab could be paid. 

“I wish I could repay at least one or two,” he began. Feeling around in his pockets for any change he might have left.

“Yeah, I bet you do.” Roy looked up at him, halting his movements with a firm pat on the shoulder. Another habit Danny liked. At this point he started an imaginary list. 

Danny could still feel his heart racing at the contact, even one so innocent. He wondered what Roy was thinking while they looked at each other, his face illuminated only by the soft glow of the street lamps scattered about .

“You know-“ Roy inhaled, raising his hand to hold Danny’s cheek tenderly, lost in thought. 

“Hm?” Visions of them together began swirling in his mind. Glorious visions. And then - 

“Nothin’. You had some lint. Go back to your doll face, she’ll want you home when she gets in,” Roy slurred slightly. A lazy smile on his face as if the night was growing long, but he didn’t want it to end yet. “It’s getting late.”

“Oh,” he breathed. Saying he felt let down was the understatement of the year. He didn’t want to fight the issue though, hell he didn’t even know how. 

What could he say that wouldn’t ruin any progress they’d made as friends, or come out sounding just plain foolish? So he accepted his refusal and turned around to walk away back to his apartment.

‘C’mon, be a man!’ he scolded himself. Turning on his heels when he’d taken no more than 5 steps to face Roy with new self-assuredness. 

“You don’t want to invite me in for that bourbon?” he asked, raising his shoulders, the ash he’d forgotten about from his cigarette falling onto his shoes.

“I don’t think you need another drink tonight, do you?”

“Um, I….” Danny struggled to decide. So much for that confidence he had built up. 

“Exactly. So it’s probably better if I don’t and we call it a night.” Roy flashed that devilishly delicious smile. 

That smile that made his knees weak and his stomach do somersaults, even if his words made his heart drop nearly out of his body.

“Right…but -” He wanted to protest and demand a reason, feeling his blood boil like when your high school crush rejects you. 

“It’s nothing you - you hear that, right? Her stomping? God she’s loud.” Roy turned around to gesture to the source. 

Danny recognized Courtney almost immediately, her usual little skip run in those tiny dresses she wore nearly as recognizable as her accent.

“I lost my keys!” she laughed, running a little faster towards them. “And Dela’s out with her new boyfriend. Who, by the way, did I tell you his mustache is ah-mazing.”

“Where’s your dates?” Roy shrugged off her rambling. 

“Ugh, don’t get me started. Kameron got cold feet and Morgan, well, let’s just say some Scots don’t hold their liquor as well as advertised.” She blinked as if she was trying to get rid of some unpleasant memories. “I got them a taxi, they're fine.”

“Seriously,” Roy pointed to her heels when she finally reached him, already holding the apartment building’s door open for her. “Walk like a man, why don’t yah?”

“Fuck me like one,” Courtney retorted with a tease in her voice, tousling Danny’s hair, saying, “You can even bring him.”

Danny’s eyes flicked back and forth between the pair, unsure what to think. Or even what to say. Hell, even unsure if she was being serious or not. All he could see was red. 

“He’s not interested.” Roy’s focus switched to Danny. His expression was unreadable, as if he didn't even know what he was thinking. “Right?”

Danny swallowed, muttering, “…right.” 

“Goodnight, Danny,” Courtney sang, walking past Roy into his apartment building. Throwing a last little finger wave his way before taking the edge of Roy’s collar in her hand and tugging. 

“Coming, dollface,” Roy smirked, following her lead.

He stood dumbfounded. Baffled by this turn of events. The ONE time he’d made the first move and THIS is what he got for it? 

“Why that…that….” he huffed, unable to process rational thoughts he took a puff from his cigarette before throwing it on the ground. Storming off in the direction of his apartment with heavy, angry stomps. “That slut! Jezebel! That absolute…TRAMP!”

Pride Challenge Points: 2489

[cloudytaeeee]

☁️fic rec☁️

nevermind by rkiveink

retro au (1980s-1990s)

drummer JK & bassist JM

exes to lovers

childhood friends, first love, queer themes, heavy angst, time period typical issues, smut, non-sexual intimacy, recovery, fluff, happy ending

PLEASE read the tags carefully⚠️ there are heavy themes such as drug use & dealing with addiction. for the most part it’s not explicit, just implied/referenced-however, there are detailed individual chapter warnings if there’s anything else to be aware of. besides that though, this is very much about love & healing.

chaptered || 81K words

let me start off by saying, I absolutely LOVE all of hel’s works. this one in particular is very special to me because it was the first one I ever read from them. also certainly won’t be the last recommendation I post for their stories. they’re amazing and deserve all of the praise!

that being said: I won’t ramble too much because honestly there aren’t enough coherent words to describe my feelings about this story. it’s better to just dive in and fully experience jikook’s journey. as well as all of the emotions that come along with it. which you will feel whether you want to or not (unless you’re a robot lol)-I guarantee something will strike you in one way or another. I definitely cried quite a few times for different reasons. it’s that impactful. like this is one of those fics I wish I could gate keep, but it’s so beautifully written I can’t. that would be selfish and this needs to be shared!