#anyway now i will watch the mama performance saw they did step. Step. STEP!

[ashmp3]

MY PRETTY WOMEN ILY KARA YOU WILL ALWAYS BE FAMOUSSSS

[pastorpresent]

Just Let Me Adore You.

[ you can't watch what their doing to him any more. He's overworked. Exhausted, and pumped full of pills to keep awake. ]

TW: mention of drug use, vomiting, blood, mild sexual content.

Elvis/YN, or Austin!Elvis/YN if preferred

"Where is he?"

Your voice is sharp, demanding, and Vernon looks fearful almost as he takes a small step behind the colonel.

"Don't get all twisted up, sweetness. He's resting, was a big show tonight."

You didn't think you could hate anyone quite as much as you hated the man in front of you. From the minute he stepped into the picture, he only had one intention: bleed Elvis dry for everything he had.

It didn't matter how much you tried to warn him. Elvis saw him as a second father figure of sorts, and refused to say a bad word about the old bastard.

You had no such qualms.

"I want to see him, you twisted monster," you spat, glare hardening.

The ridiculous show schedule they had him on was taking its toll. Tonight more than ever. He looked awful up there, even if he did sing and perform just as perfect as ever, but even that made your chest ache. He would kill himself before he would let down his fans. You could see it backstage, between songs, where he would all but stumble to the waiting chair, letting them slip him pills and needles and shoving his face in ice water until he was gasping for breath, hurriedly reapplying his eyeliner before the next song.

He was dead on his feet. A puppet on strings doing everything he was told, consequences be damned.

"Now listen to me-"

"Let her in," that was Vernon's tired voice cutting in, avoiding your face, but you could see the guilt there anyway. "She might be able to settle him down," he continued, even softer, and you felt your concern grow worse.

Parker huffed, muttering something incoherent but stepping aside away from the door to the penthouse. You kept your posture tall, giving him a brief nod before pushing past and locking the door behind you.

There was silence for a few moments, and then a half moan, half sob. It was unmistakably him.

You followed the noise to the bathroom, and found your lover on the floor covered in vomit, sobbing dejectedly over the bathtub.

"Elvis, sweetheart," you gasp, dropping to your knees. He recoils almost, curling in on himself miserably.

"You need to go, mama. Can't- Can't be having you 'round when I'm like this," he moaned, burying his face away in his legs.

"No, baby. This is exactly the times I should be around," you say, moving close enough to wrap your arms around him. His reaction is almost automatic, even if he does try to fight it. His arms curl desperately around your waist, face buried in your chest as he cries, begs for unnecessary forgiveness.

"Hate myself, baby. I'm- I can't- I need to let you go, mama. You need'a run. Run far a'ay, you hear me?"

You shook your head, rocking him and pressing kisses to his damp hair, running your fingers over his back.

"Don't say those things. Please, Elvis. Don't say those things. You're amazing, baby. You did so well up there tonight," you knew it was what he needed, ultimately. He was so terrified of failing, of disappointing those flocks of people who scream and cry for him, as if he ever even could. You were convinced he could sit and talk for a few minutes about the blandest topic in the world and they would still go wild.

It was his greatest fear. That's why he let them fill him with drugs and take half his money. Consequences be damned, as long as he was making the people happy.

He all but mewled against you at the praise, slumping further into your warmth, mumbling a broken "you rea'ly think so?"

It shattered your heart, and you nodded, kissing his forehead.

"So good baby, but you need to rest now, for a little while. Till you're all nice and better, sweetheart."

Predictably, he shook his head, although anything he planned on saying was cut off with a harsh gag, and he was pulling away from you quickly to cough up a sickly mix of bile and blood over the tile floor.

He was pale, skin clammy, and while you winced in sympathy you couldn't help but be slightly relieved at the ejection of those horrible pills from his body.

He was apologising again, words slurred and body wracked by violent shakes.

"'Nother show, a-at t-ten. Colonel said demand was enough for it, I'm gettin' two shows a night," he sounded proud, despite being half dead on the floor like a weakened animal, eyes half shut and muscles tense, twitching incessantly.

"No," you spoke firm, leaving absolutely zero wiggle room for compromise, "you can't go back out there tonight. A few nights, maybe even a few weeks. You're going to kill yourself," it was brutal, perhaps a little harsh, but what else could you do? How else would he ever come to accept how bad the situation was, if not even one person in his life could be honest?

"If it's how I go, it's how I go."

Anger fluttered in your stomach, and you pulled him up to sit against the wall, sitting directly in front of him, hands clamped on his shoulders. You watched his eyes drift and struggle to focus on your face despite the close proximity.

"Don't you dare! What about Lisa, huh? You gonna have me explain to her where her daddy's gone? Want me to tell her how he loved them more than her? The Colonel, the fans, whoever the hell else! And- and what about me?! You just- you just gonna leave me, like that? After everything?!"

You didn't realise quite how worked up you had gotten, nor the tears streaming over your face, until he lifted a hand to cup your cheek, trying to thumb the wetness away as if he could make it all better just by cleaning up your hysterics.

It was him pulling you in this time. You wanted to fight. You were so damn furious, still - but his hands left you powerless, reducing you to a palatable mess who sunk against him in a bone heavy heap, hiding your face in his neck.

"Sorry, mama. Sorry. Not leaving either of yas, what kinda man would that make me, huh? What kinda daddy, or husband? Needa look after ya better, don't I? Look after my best girls."

You nod against his damp skin, a mix of tears and sweat as his body struggles. Your breath hitches when you feel how shaky his hands are running through your hair, and you pull back enough to wipe at your eyes.

"Let's get you to bed, baby. Let me look after you this time," you say quietly, running your thumb over his jaw. He blinks at you, a small smile tugging his lips, even if it is a little forced.

He looks pained and so, so exhausted. You never thought yourself capable of violence, but you wouldn't hesitate to kill Tom Parker for what he's done to your man. You remember those early days, back in memphis, back when his momma was alive. He was so bright then - so happy and carefree.

The years since had only served to beat him down. The shows and the fame and the fucking colonel- they only ever served to break him, and here he was now. Broken. He would never again be that nineteen year old starry eyed boy you first met, but that was ok. You loved him no matter what, just like you always swore.

You help him to his feet, and between yourself and the bathtub he makes it up on trembling legs. You wrap your arm secure around his waist, and you notice his slight wince, an insecurity spurred on by those awful pills. You tighten your grip, kiss his cheek to reassure him you don't care in the slightest.

It's slow, but you get him to the bed. He all but collapses into it with a groan, eyes already fluttering shut.

"Let's get you some clean clothes, baby," you encourage, and he obeys so easily as you strip him out of the soiled jumpsuit, tugging on some briefs in its place and some softer sleeping pants.

"Shirt, mama?"

It's not cold in the room, and the vulnerability in his eyes makes the shattered pieces of your heart burn.

"Don't need one, baby. I promise. You're gorgeous. All my gorgeous man, daddy," you assure, kissing his collarbone all tender and letting your hands move careful over his sides.

He shivers, squirming a little on the bed under your touch.

"You sure baby? Not quite as pretty as I useta be," he mumbles, and you huff a little, continuing to kiss downwards, on your knees all but worshipping every piece of visible skin.

"So gorgeous, daddy."

"What'd I do to deserve ya, huh?" Elvis whispers, and you chuckle a little against his skin, and his smile this time feels much more real.

"Somethin' diabolical, I'm sure," you tease, pushing him gentle until he lies down.

"Think I must'a been a saint or somethin," he drawled, and you smile.

"Or somethin."

You dip to press a kiss to his forehead, which still feels awfully hot. You decide a cold towel might help, but as you go to grab it he grips your hand.

"Where ya goin?"

He's giving you those puppy eyes, fingers linking with yours.

"Gonna get a towel, try to cool you down some. You're burning, baby," he shakes his head, whimpering a little, pressing his lips to your hand.

"Stay, mama. Ya all I need, you'll fix me right up with ya pretty lips. Just wanna hold ya, is all. Ya my medicine," he murmurs, and you sigh softly, perching on the bed and running your fingers through his hair.

"I'll only be downstairs, baby. Just one moment, ok?"

Reluctantly he loosens his grip, pressing a weak kiss to your thigh as an almost wordless agreement.

You rush downstairs and search for a towel, wetting it with cold water. You grab a bowl from the kitchen incase the nausea hits again, and a glass of water. You're just gathering up the things to take upstairs when you hear voices from the bedroom.

You quickly grab the supplies and go up, only to find Elvis now half sitting, struggling to get all the way up, breathing rough like he's panicking and trying not to cry. The colonel stands at the foot of the bed, cigar between his lips puffing clouds of smoke, arms folded over his chest as he watched, almost bemused.

"What the hell are you doing?" You spit, almost dropping the glass in your haste to reach your man. You place the water on the bedside, the bowl on the floor, and ease the towel around his neck, whispering reassurances as you direct him to lie back down. You can see in his eyes that he doesn't necessarily want to, but his body is far too weak to fight your guiding hands, and his head lands back onto the pillow with a soft thump.

"He's got a performance in a half hour. We need him downstairs for sound check and wardrobe," Parker states, voice void of any sympathy. He's looking at the sick man with something akin to frustration and anger, and you can see how it hurts him, can feel him try to sit again under your hands only to be physically incapable.

"He's not going on that damn stage," you growl right back.

"It's none negotiable, little girl. He signed a damn contract, he honours it!" Tom hissed, getting into your space.

You didn't back down, grabbing your lovers hand to assure him you were ok when you felt him try to struggle to his feet again.

"He's half fucking dead, you dimwit! You're working him to death, can't you see that? He's a human being! You can't just stuff him with drugs and push him onto a damn stage night in night out! He needs rest!"

The Colonel shook his head, chuckling. He looked at Elvis, who was glaring up at him now.

"You letting your girl fight your battles now? Letting her make the rules?"

He glances your way, tightening the grip on your hand.

"She's right. It's too much," it felt almost relieving to hear him finally say it. "Tell them I'll resume I'm a few days but not tonight."

You hoped you could convince him for a little more than that, but it would do for now.

The colonel seemed to of realised he lost, storming out with a promise to make us both pay.

The door slammed, and you climbed onto the bed immediately, wrapping yourself around him and kissing his lips sweetly, letting your hands draw patterns over his bare arms.

"I do good, baby?" He hummed quietly, and you nod, the tension melting from your body as he nuzzles into you, linking your legs and bringing his arms around your waist to tug you closer.

"The best. I'm proud of you," you murmur into his hair, peppering his face with gentle kisses.

You both lie like that for a little while, and eventually you can feel him snoring softly against you. You let yourself drift off too, feeling impossibly safe in his arms.

[sinisterlyhan]

05 ; 08. chanjin / 2503 words

threesome, female!reader, roayl!chanjin, unprotected sex, oral (male and female receiving), faint size kink, bounding with ropes, creampie, overstimulation, mentioned of edging, light degradation 

cw: mentions of body image (reader is small)

a/n: nothing but hyunjin and chan on my mind after the mama performance :) so i wrote a little something to self-indulge.

hyunjin learned a few things on his trip to visit chan.

one—chan has a secret chamber in his castle, with a giant bed in the middle, with contraptions and ropes and whips hung spaciously on the stone wall.

it was intentionally unguarded, but nobody was allowed inside unless invited in by him. chan wave the guards and servants off whenever he goes inside with someone, someone who hyunjin came to learn to be you, a castle staff he only saw once in the hallway and did a double-take because your tousled hair, blushed cheeks, and urgent steps seemed suspicious.

two—he was right to be suspicious because as it turned out, chan has been fucking his castle staff in the chamber. or more specifically, he has been fucking you in the chamber.

he supposed he understand why chan needed to wave people away. he barely stumbled upon the room and he could already hear your filthy noises echoing through the haunted corners of the old castle halls. it would be awkward to have to stand by the big doors and wait until the king finishes in his woman of choice every day.

but he waltzed in anyway because he did not think chan would be upset that he, a close friend, walked in without permission. besides, he politely knocked before entering. it wasn't his fault that neither you nor chan could hear the soft sounds of his knuckles because you were screaming so loud.

three—he loves sex.

or, more specifically, he loves being in control. as much as he could be with you when chan was in the same room, at least, but he would say he has gained a few pieces of your heart ever since chan graciously invited him to join in on ruining you for the afternoon.

your hands were tied behind your back, the thick ropes wrestling around your tiny wrists while chan pressed your clenched fist against the small of your naked back.

your knees were grounded weakly against the mattress of the king-sized bed, ankles bound to the two bedposts with a long rope, legs that barely supported your weight spread open so chan could have access to your sticky cunt from behind. he thrusted into you, one arm going over your waist so you wouldn't fall onto the bed in complete exhaustion from the last three orgasms he gave you—first with a glass toy, then his tongue, and then his finger.

and now chan was riding it out. he was stretching the time thinner and thinner, edging you with every hard thrust until you began to cry in agony from having your high chased down every time.

your tears that once rolled down to the mattress began to drip down with your messy drool when hyunjin came along to lodge his thick cock in your mouth.

he has your head held up by the top of your head, his grip tight on your hair and the other rubbing along at front of your neck where he could feel the bulge of his tip whenever he pushes himself into your throat.

this felt wrong. he was reluctant at first, unsure if chan was joking, but all the clouds in his head got thrown away as soon as chan pushed your pretty mouth open and told him to do whatever he wanted. the next second, he just placed himself between the skin of your lips, and as soon as you automatically began to suck on his tip, he was gone.

come to think, he hasn't asked if you actually wanted this yet—not that has to, though, because only agreement could come out of your lips in the face of someone with more authority.

much more authority.

but still, it might have been better if he had asked whether you wanted him here. perhaps you were only comfortable with chan.

"ah, fuck! she feels so good!" hyunjin groaned out once his string of tolerance began quivering, threatening to snap with a release.

he doubled over, unconsciously pushing his hips toward your face so his cock stops at the back of your throat. his stomach touched the top of your head, his chest heaving as pleasure took over his body upon your chokes and moans around his shaft.

you could not breathe, and neither could you move, as well as think. you just felt lost, and stuffed, and unsatisfied that chan wouldn't let you cum after each time he pushed you near the edge just for good fun. the only thing keeping your sane was the fact that hyunjin was about to release over your mouth, and you could finally get a taste of something, as bitter as cum could be.

chan arched a brow from above you, watching as hyunjin threw his head back with a sweaty moan, moving in and out of your mouth to chase his high. he furrowed his brows then, his eyes casting down to your naked back and distinguishing the sound of your muffled moans. a realization hit him, and he laughed to himself—you wanted this. you wanted hyunjin's cum.

it could just be from him hitting your sweet spot, but for certain you also wanted hyunjin's essence over you, you cum slut.

"oh, hold on now," he whispered as he abruptly reached his hand out to shove hyunjin backward.

exhausted and unprepared, hyunjin slipped out of your mouth, the cold air hitting his skin, and he dropped onto the mattress with a huff of breath. his pleasure bar decreased slowly, bringing him down from his almost-orgasm, and he glared up at chan for some sort of reason behind his action.

but his eyes could not find chan. he could hear chan's sinister chuckle, but his eyes were only trained on you. your disappointed brows, your opened mouth and stuck-out tongue, your longing eyes—you moved forward, your knees rubbing against the mattress as you tried to move toward his still erect cock, glistening prettily in the air and waiting to be engulfed again.

it wasn't long before your voice came into his ears, paired with the slapping of skin and chan's occasional groan.

"cum... cum... your majesty..." you slurred out, eyes lost in red lust and body impatiently lurching forward only to be restricted by the ropes scraping against your skin. "please, your majesty... cum... your cum... i want..."

hyunjin watched you with wide eyes, his heart pounding angrily and sending blood to his arousal.

what the fuck was that—oh lord, what the fuck, were you just begging for his cum? so shamelessly? oh lord, you were so lost, you cock slut. your mind was truly fucked out. all you could think about was to be stuffed full and drowned in white filth.

that was hot. very, very hot. he has never laid with a woman like you, or maybe he just never wrecked one far enough that they begin acting as you did. he should try someday, or if chan allows it, he would continue doing it to you as he was quite fond of you now.

your hasty moans, your strangled noises, the warmth of your cheeks, the curve of your smooth back, your tears, the squelch of your wet cunt—oh, he could only imagine how your holes would feel. just think about it makes his insides burn with needs and wants.

"pl–please... i want... i want more..." you slurred between whimpers, chan hitting you just right from behind and your orgasm building again. "please let me... give me your cum... please..."

"aww, does my baby girl want to suck hyunjin's cock? hmm?" chan leaned down to your ears, whispering with malice and startling you. "it's right there for you. you can get there on your own, right? or are you that useless, you need my help to find a dick you could suck on?"

"i–i can't reach, your majesty," you replied timidly, looking at him by turning your head slightly.

you couldn't tell him he was restraining you and keeping your body up. if you did, you'd get punished for talking back, and you've already received enough of those today. you just wanted to cum again.

"hmm, but i think you can."

chan pushed you forward by the back of your neck. he hummed when your face landed on the mattress, only inches away from hyunjin's dripping length. he pulled you up by your hair then, pushing you forward and lowering your back until you came face to face with hyunjin's cock.

your tongue quickly darted out, barely swiping your tip against his vein and his tip before you pulled your knees a little closer to him, moving your head forward so you could take him in your mouth again. you moaned with an eye-roll, feeling a rush of delight upon your first suck, and all you could do was keep going.

you bobbed your head against hyunjin's length, matching with the rhythm of chan as he pounded into you from behind, quickly building your release and not stopping until he gets you to release all over him this time.

hyunjin sighed out in relief and pleasure. he closed his eyes, one arm raised above his head and the other shifted through your messy hair. he guided you along his length slowly, feeling each suction of your mouth sting his skin like a charming beat.

you kept moaning around his length, especially strongly when chan ram into you with an extra hard thrust. and he listened, storing your sweet noises in his head and envisioning the taste of your dripping cunt, the feeling of your warm hole. how sweet your essence would feel on the tip of his tongue, how perfectly your walls would wrap around him, how pretty you would be when your small frame crumbles beneath his body.

he quirked his lips, his tongue swiping across his lower lip upon the feeling of yours rubbing against him. it felt so sensational and so hot that he could feel his arousal threatening to pop again.

your high was approaching, and so was chan's. you could tell by the stuttering of his hips. he was pounding in you without care now, slipping out of your hole occasionally only to quickly shove himself back in because he couldn't stand not feeling the euphoric friction.

you clenched around him with a moan when he hit your g-spot again, and he let out a low whine. leaning down so his chest touched your back, his hand found your clit to abuse you even further, while his free hand pushed at your head so you were forced to take hyunjin's further.

you let out a surprise choke, stimulating his tip and cashing hyunjin's eyes to snap open. his legs jolted with pleasure, a loud and shameless moan pushed out of his lip as you deep-throated him.

"oh fuck, fuck, fuck!" he cursed thought gritted teeth, his hip jutting up when the feeling finally washed over him and he released in your mouth.

you stayed still, tears rolling down your suffocated face and cum splattered over your tongue. you couldn't feel off him for a while because chan still had his hand pushed against the back of your head, so you simply waited with hyunjin's dick in your mouth, yearning for a release.

the drool was rolling out your mouth, hyunjin panted as he observed the two figures before him, trying not to feel the way your lips were still around his shaft.

chan growled under his breath, his sight beginning to shake the more he pulled in and out of you. he was getting close, very close. it was when you started to clench around him because you found it extremely hard to breathe with a dick in your mouth when he sighed, his hand leaving your head to your hip where he held you still and sped into you quickly to chase his high.

you popped off hyunjin, an exhausted groan slipping off your lips, as well as some of his cum and your saliva. hyunjin furrowed his brows, feeling jittery at the sight of your opened mouth, and he reached a hand over to his length to wrap around himself. he pumped it a few times, gathering the slickness on his skin, and he sat up slowly until he could put his fingers in your mouth.

"you said you wanted my cum, so here you go," he said, his finger moving around your tongue as you moaned at the movement. "you left some on my cock, baby."

"so–sorry, your majesty," you mumbled, your voice ringing in his ears as you licked his fingers clean.

"don't be, just keep sucking my fingers," he said. "does it taste good to you, hmm?"

you tried to reply with your words, but the knot in your abdomen was about to snap, so all you could do was nod clumsily until the one sudden shove from chan that finally finished you off. you screamed, your eyes rolling skyward and your jaw hung open at the orgasm. you released around chan, giving him a tight clench around his cock and a rush of a hot liquid wave that made him curse.

"fuck, gonna fucking... fill you up real good, baby girl,” he gritted his teeth,”you're gonna take my cum, aren't you, you filthy little bitch?" 

snapping his hips into yours. with one last stroke of your wall, he pushed to bottom out in you as cum sprouted from his tip, tainting you with whiteness.

he pulled out of you then, slumping onto the bed as you did. hyunjin let his jaw hang open when you finally laid on your side, your legs trembling and cum leaking past your inner-thighs. as chan moved to unbound you from the bedpost, hynujin’s eyes glimmered at the sight of your pressed tighs, and even though he knew you were sensitive already, he just needed to learn one last thing.

you yelped when you felt your legs being spread open. your bound hands struggled uncomfortably at your back, your weight leaning against your numb arms. looking up, you found hyunjin staring back at you with hooded eyes, his tongue poked out between his teeth as he eyed your weak, tiny figure and knelt before your dripping core.

oh, he could imagine hovering over you, his big hands fully covering the parts of your body, you pretty little thing. 

you whimpered loudly, a scream mixing in between when you felt his fingers spread your hole open and his tongue licked along your slit. he scooped up the cum in your hole, taking them in his mouth before he licked you again.

you shook, your back arching off the bed as you mumbled begs and moans off your lips. it was painful, but so good, so fucking good. you wanted him to stop and keep going, you wanted to feel him suck on your clit again, you wanted his tongue inside you—you're gone, you're so gone and so pretty.

it was when you uncontrollably released on his mouth when hyunjin learned his last thing for the day.

four—holy hell, you taste good.

(and he wondered, for once: can you take more?)

[nightswithkookmin]

Hi Goldy! I am curious about your take on how Jikook are edited in the behind the scenes clips since October (such as the ones for the Life Goes on music video, ABC Holiday Dynamite, and the Japan one (search on youtube for BTS japan shoot || behind the scene of Japan)). Do you think Jikook are interacting less, being just friends, being more professional, or is BigHit editing their interactions out? It just seems so different from the ones before Oct (FILA, Dynamite MV, Season's Greetings 2021)

Huh???😲😲😲

BigHit is doing what what now?😥

Do you mean that as a fact or theory?🤔

Why though?👀 They are not Tae Kook? 😥

There's Bangtan video of Jimin with his third leg dangling loose in the air somewhere on the internet, I don't think BigHit is that savvy.

Lmho. I mean I see what you mean but they are editors and cutting is what they do for a living. But this is Jikook sis. I don't see BigHit's incentive for 'cutting' Jikook's moments and you shouldn't assume that-

Unless...

You don't think Jikook's been groping eachother homoerotically on set lately have you? Cos, chile I'll believe that! I don't trust Jikook anywhere near eachother's vicinity and personal space.

I've seen enough to traumatize the devil himself. Chilee. Lol.

Bighit, in recent times, mostly tend to cut scenes and moments if they are a bit risqué. Like JK shoving his butt in Jimin's groin face, sliding his hands down Tae's chest...

Often times too they cut moments if its redundant. If a part of a scene is already in the main content they don't bother showing it in the behind scenes. From my observation.

When an interaction is awkward they skip it too, I feel. I mean I am still waiting to see JK touching all over Jimin and feeling him up in Run 106- honey, I'll pay to watch that shit with my kidneys. Lol.

Often too they save some scenes for memories or some other shit that they use all those pent up footages for. Lol.

BigHit is a business, they produce content that per their research and analytics garners more engagement, audience retention and a whole other metrics. They put a lot of creativity into what they do as creatives and artists- I mean if the baby noises is anything to go by. Those bites are tired!

But often times too, they're tired and they're lazy, and they just put anything together and toss it out there without giving it much thought- isn't that how they leave Jin or Tae out of packages, how certain Jikook moments that should have never made it into screen time ended up in screen time- how JM's third leg made it to the internet? They should have cut that shit before uploading it with those subtitles and yet here we are.

I think people give BigHit too much credit- talking about JK shouldn't gay panic and run away from certain moments with JM if he knows BigHit editors are going to cut those moments.... JM's dixk begs to differ. Chilee, Jimin you should have just worn pants. Can't trust these phony ass editors my guy.

The editing is really not a big deal. Not to me. But I love your question anyway. Especially the bits about what's different about Jikook and the content BigHit has been putting out since October.

Well something sure did go down in October, I don't care what anybody says.

I keep saying BigHit banks on the bond and intimacy of the boys, and the boys are more than happy to showcase their bond for the cameras just as Tae said and confirmed in a recent interview- Tuktukkers y'all did an Oopsie on the whole Taekook don't like to show their bond on cameras! Lol

Tae said it himself not me- he lives to showcase his bond with the other members. *where is my skull head emoji. Lmho.

I think what has changed since JM's birthday in October to now, to me where BigHit is concerned, is the general marketing strategy of the company.

It seems to me the company is adopting a marketing module opposite of the strategy they had been using before the pandemic. I think I've talked about this though...

Hate to say I said it, but I said it. Lol.

They are limiting access to the boys to drive sales as and when. BTS dominates the internet and have amassed greater reach and attention partly due to the free content they put out on the internet. But those were never monitised- not in a direct or significant way.

In the wake of the virus, they've had to monetize their online presence. A single tweet from their Twitter account is a phone brand promotion as I pointed out in past posts. There's been an increase in their sponsorship collaborations, in Soop and many of the content they've put up this year. They even turned on ads on their YT channels it seems.

Like I've been saying, this situation is global and novel, they are going to experiment with means and methods till they find that sweet spot and that is what I feel we are experiencing- amongst other things.

Unfortunately for us, our access to Jikook is gonna take a hit like I said before because the numbers are in their favor. I mean go to their YouTube page and see the metrics for yourself.

Jikook's holiday remix pulls way ahead of their counterparts. If their going to monetize any ship brand in BTS it's Jikooks. Trust. But that doesn't mean any ship in BTS is spared.

Someone asked me a while back, when I talked about this, whether all these changes the company was going through was going to affect the way Jikook interact on camera and I couldn't answer that with conviction then.

But I mean we are seeing a subtle, if not drastic change in the way Jikook interact with eachother and with their glass closet.

What that means for us, I think, is the company is going to choose when and where to show us content and certain interactions but that doesn't mean Jikook aren't interacting- know what I mean? I mean they have them. The juicy moments that's gonna make us slap our mamas. BigHit has it all. They are just gonna save it for as and when based on their marketing strategy, if you know what I mean.

I mean we all saw that blackswan performance, we all saw the holiday remix performance etc.

And you are right about the less interactions post October and I've shared my thoughts on it so I won't go into it. But I will state again that they are not broken up either, not to me. Lol.

I think we need to examine what interacting less means. To me, I consider Jikook interacting less if they have an opportunity to interact and they don't interact in a way that is usual of them.

Majority of the content we've gotten in recent times are pretty much very official contents, interviews, etc. The entire BE era, as I said is not about Jikook or even BigHit.

It's about BTS, all seven and Jikook can't monopolize the shine like they tend to do in other BigHit marketed contents in my opinion.

Jimin tried to be funny and chill in the dynamite mv and RM nearly went ninja turtle on his ass when he called him out for not taking things seriously enough during the shoot- Left to grandpa Joonie, the kids will sleep at five. Lol.

Seriously though, there is a huge gap between what BTS views as marketing and marketable and what Jikook or even BigHit views as marketing, in my opinion. And conversations like that between RM and Jimin goes to prove it.

Another interesting thing about this whole marketing approach is how BigHit isn't substituting any other particular pair in Jikook's stead. I see them giving equal screan time to the individual members- well not in a technical sense but I think you know what I mean.

Are Jikook required to be professional in certain situations, absolutely. And in previous years, I think they took too many liberties with it. But as I said, now more than ever they are learning and need to learn to read the room because they wouldn't be able to get away with much if they don't.

BE is a self produced project, after Soop- after when they were isolated to help them bond and repair fractures in their bond. If there were anything they were not happy with that led to Soop, trust that they are going to fix it post Soop and it's going to reflect in every sphere of their interactions.

RM for example has chilled on his monitoring and censorship of Jikook, Jikook have been pretty considerate of the group and have tried not to do anything to have RM pop a vein, Tae has been stepping up too- with the members going out their way to praise him and push him to the fore front of the group unlike in previous years *cough cough I don't want trouble but chilee.

I mean Jimin pointed it out in the Be behind when he said Tae was working hard and putting his best foot forward because the members had been showering him with lots of compliments in recent times and he wasn't kidding.

In the LGO comeback live, RM praised Tae for working hard forgetting it wasn't just Tae and JM's reaction was telling. Of course he backpedaled to compliment JM too.

Suga did the same thing in the Be behind video when he was talking about JM and praising him- I mean it's Suga and his Jimin, uWu. But then he too backpedaled to compliment Tae when he realized what he was doing and I was like CAN SOMEONE PRAISE KOOKIE TOO PLEASE AND THANK YOU. Lol.

Anywho, the company is equally chilling on their Jikook agenda which I have speculated on several ttimes so won't get into- it's all so very kumbaya and God, I hate it. Lol.

Give me the chaos goddammit!

I feel Jlkook loosen up in contents that aren't like super official business moments and that's when you see their domesticity. Lol.

You see them having their me time in the background of some of the content, and in one of the interviews where they were sat a good feet apart but they kept moving closer and closer till eventually after their lunch break cut, they were sat very close to each other.

I'm not a fan of the cameras being shove in their faces during their private moments- Kookie certainly doesn't appreciate that either.

But they are working for a living nonetheless and making content is what they do for a living. So we are definitely gonna get the content from them alright, the fanservice, the organic moments passed off as fanservice, the moments that should never make it to screen- all nine. Lol.

We are just not going to get them in a way we are accustomed to. And it certainly doesn't help that they are each on their own personal growth journeys- gradually disconnecting from their fanbase, I mean Jk's been long gone duh, and Jimin did say he has come to the realization not everyone in the fandom loves him and he is learning to react less strongly to them; which to me translates as bye bitches you don't deserve me. Lol.

I mean dude didn't bother posting for new year this year- y'all Jimin is done with our ass. We might as well pack our bags and join him in Kookie's Casa. I call dibs on the broom closet under the stairs. Lol.

Jikook gets called fanservice and other creepy slurs in this fandom but people forget all of this is their choice too. They choose, are choosing to share all the bits of them they share with us, with us. Inspite of all the hate and insults, they choose to do that- if they did it for the fanservice don't you think they would have called a time out on it long ago because it's not worth it?

I hate it here.

I guess what I'm saying is, you are right about these observations you've made and some of the things you've pointed out are facts.

But we have talked about all of that so it really shouldn't be anything new? Kindly check my previous posts. I think I shared my point of view on what I think is going on with Jikook, BigHit and BTS.

Other than those, I don't think there is anything major up with Jikook honestly. I keep saying I don't think they are broken up. I don't see either of them closed off, emotionally open to connecting with the others.

If anything I said I feel Jimin is falling in love all over again with Kook. I mean when he looks at him he looks to me as if he is seeing Kook in a different light.

And it's funny how all through out 2020 he kept reiterating how his friends and family and relationships were important to him, shading the ef out of Kook during the Japan Stay Gold promos claiming his relationships were important to him and was what was Gold in his life.

He even went on to talk about picking an accent spending time around his friends and talking with his friends around his birthday but suddenly in the Be behind scenes he was talking about how he's come to the realization BTS is his only true friends and how friends come and go.

Clearly he's had an epiphany of a sort and has been through something post his birthday that has him setting his priorities straight in the aftermath.

In his Weverse magazine, he mentioned how he's recently discovered something about himself, about how he loves to be loved. He then went on to clarify that when during festa he talked about having a desire to perform with the members for a long that that he meant to say he wanted to be with them for a very long time.

But then JK said Jimin said that bit to him first. And if this is the interpretation Jimin is giving to that statement then- one plus one is two honey. Numbers don't lie.

Dude don whispered those sweet empty nothings in JK's ear telling him he wants to be with him for a very long time and shit.

And now homeboy out here setting up roots in gay boulevard. I don't think their well is drying up any time soon. Lol.

They are in a honeymoon phase again and they are not showing us. Stingy bastards! Lol

And when JK said to JM in response, that BTS is his home- wow. He really said that...

He is Jimin's home. Literally. Please, my heartu😭

Jikook is real. Please support them.

Signed,

GOLDY

[calitraditionalism]

Arc Three: Chapter Five

(AO3 counterpart here.)

“Brilliant turnout, isn’t it?”

Greyleaf forced a smile and looked at the massive dark brown tom beside him. “I didn’t know Coteries could get this large.”

“You saying you’ve never been to one of these?” Pebblestar, a tall grey tom was on Greyleaf’s other side. He tilted his head a little, ears slightly hanging instead of standing straight.

Greyleaf turned to him now. “Not yet. This is my first.”

“Well, you’ll have a grand time, lad.” Sealstar gave him what would be a gently pat on the back among the Plage; for Greyleaf, he barely managed to stay upright. “Go on and find your family. I’m going to see what the Magpies have this time. Even the warriors I’ve brought with me haven’t seen their wares before.”

“You do that,” Pebblestar said, careless as anything.

Sealstar immediately trotted off, his pawsteps audible over the chatter of the collected cats.

Greyleaf stood as straight as he could without lifting his front feet off of the ground, searching. The crowd was thick and multicolored. Finding a red-brown molly was not going to be easy, it seemed. He could see his brother talking to a huge white cat, which amazed him, given Mistface’s constant dismissal of anyone outside of his family. He started forward, but Pebblestar cleared his throat.

“You really think Cedarstar will be alright without you?” he said. “She was rather…loopy, when we left.”

“Oh-“ Greyleaf made some noise that was supposed to be a confident chuckle and failed miserably at its job. “Fever can do that. That medicine will keep her steady until I return. I won’t be staying long, anyway.”

Not if I don’t find her first.

Pebblestar’s mournful face looked even more troubled than usual. “I just worry for the girl. She’s a bit of a fool sometimes.” He offered a faint smile. “But I trust your intuition. You’re brighter than half of my comrades, and we all know it. StarClan gave you a gift.”

Greyleaf’s stomach heaved. He tried to look grateful for the compliment. “Thank you. I’m going to find my brother.”

Pebblestar dismissed him with a nod and Greyleaf managed to not hurry away from the conversation. He carefully made his way through the crowd, always watching for that telltale roan, but he met with no one except Mistface. He was more stressed than usual when a Hillock molly named Morningsky tried to push her very uncomfortable daughter on him as a seer for the leaders – not just because someone was talking to him, but because he was still no closer to finding that ‘her’. Relief rushed through his body as a story was announced and the crowd gathered around to watch the performers. He climbed into a tree with his brother, the apprentice and white tom, scanning the crowd as he could see them.

The story of the Runagate troubled him, truthfully. He couldn’t place a word on why, but as the white molly slithered out her words with a devil’s charisma, something nagged at the back of his head. He thought of the shadows.

Then his eyes roamed, reached the far side of the crowd. They landed on her.

A tall red-brown molly. Thin and with exhausted eyes.

Greyleaf did not hear the rest of the story. He stared at her as if looking away would make her vanish (and he was secretly afraid it would). He barely even registered the applause when the story concluded, hardly noticed climbing down the tree. He left his brother without a word, paws pulled straight to her. He pushed past cats without a second thought.

When he emerged from the crowd, he expected to be nervous to be right in front of her, anxious when she looked his way. He wasn’t.

“Hey,” he said.

The molly blinked. Then she almost flinched and her mouth dropped a little.

“…It’s you,” she nearly whispered.

A grin, shaky with relief, spread across Greyleaf’s face. “It’s me.”

The molly looked around, then motioned with her head and stood up. Greyleaf followed her to a shaded spot, thankful that no one else was close by.

“They told me about you,” she said, sitting down. “You’re…”

“Greyleaf.” He mirrored her. “And you’re…”

“Redheart.”

“I thought so.” Greyleaf exhaled the tension out of his body, and though he wasn’t grinning anymore, he felt that joy all the same. “I heard you were coming here. I had to see you. We never got to talk, but-“

“I know.” Redheart was taller than him, but she was sitting in a way that their eyes met at the same level. Respectful. Friendly. “You’ve seen them, then. They spoke with you. The…” She trailed off, tail pointing at the white molly who had played the Runagate.

Greyleaf blinked. “I was told by the leaders about you. But I…I saw that shadow. When we first met. Only once, though, if that’s who you mean.”

“That’s them.” Redheart wasn’t precisely smiling, but glee radiated off of her. “Greyleaf, you have no idea what this means to me. I haven’t been able to talk about this with anyone.”

“Neither have I.” Greyleaf’s tail tapped the ground, releasing a little bit of his own colorful swirl of emotions. “It’s- I don’t even know what to do with it. With this knowledge. I’ve had it all my life.”

Redheart leaned a little closer, dropping her voice low. “I’ve had it since I was an apprentice. I have nightmares, all the time. I always see it.”

“Same here.” Greyleaf felt that familiar nighttime horror clutch his heart, but his paws kneaded eagerly and he felt himself sit with something akin to confidence. He wouldn’t know if it was for sure, but it felt like it. “It’s just always been that way. I don’t know why.”

“Do you know what it is?” That conspiratorial tone did not quite fit her regal appearance.

Greyleaf looked around himself, just to be sure, and whispered, “They said it was StarClan. Or something pretending to be it. It’s eaten in front of me, I know that much.” A bubble of entirely inappropriate, kitlike excitement swelled in his chest. “What do you know?”

“Everything. It’s been here for generations. It’s got control over the entire Territory and all its inhabitants.” Redheart’s eyes were large enough that he could barely see a ring of white around them. “I’ve heard all of it. It’s…”

She spoke quickly, stare intense and almost wild, like everything was trying to force itself out of her throat at once and it was causing her pain. The more Greyleaf heard, the more he sat back a little, straightened, felt his expression go numb. He had felt the horror when he saw the thing himself; the actual knowledge of its workings made it so much worse that a part of him was shutting down so he could absorb it without fleeing or crying out.

“I don’t know what we can do about it on its own,” Redheart said at last, “but I have a plan. I want to get everyone out of the Territory as fast as possible. I need your help to do it. I can’t do this alone. You can quit with the leaders and come to Clast with me, and we can spread the word and get cats out in groups. If we all go, if we separate, it won’t have anything to eat. It might die.” Her gaze burned like fire. “We can let it starve, and then our home is safe again, and we can all come back.”

Greyleaf didn’t say anything. Multiple voices in his head were shouting over each other, trying to make themselves heard. One screamed that they had it so good now, that taking everyone away from this paradise would guarantee death, and maybe it would get them anyway. Another begged him to agree, to abandon his post and start collecting cats to bring out of this cursed place. Yet more demanded a promise that everything she said was true and that she wasn’t just saying all of this out of a demented mind. There was an overhead declaration, speaking over all the others, that she didn't need his help. He would be useless. He was a healer, not a deputy, not someone with charisma. He wouldn't be able to do anything.

He knew it wasn't that kind of help she needed. She couldn't go back to living life with all of this weight alone. 

Neither could he, really. 

He shut his eyes and took a breath, barely able to look back at that intense stare. “I don’t know if it can be done. If there’s a chance, I…”

A sudden feeling of being watched pinpricked the back of his head. He looked sidelong and saw Mistface observing him with a very curious, puzzled expression.

“I better go,” he said, finally speaking at a normal volume. “My brother’s…”

Redheart immediately corrected her posture. Instantly, her face was calm and stern, like a proper deputy. Greyleaf knew those tired eyes were just barely containing her own terror and desperation.

“Consider it,” she said. “Just consider it.”

She got up and walked away before Greyleaf could say anything.

 ---

 “Mama’s dyin’.”

That was all Greyleaf needed to hear.

 ---

 “You’ve got a visitor, Redheart.” The black-and-white molly he thought was called Peregrinefang stepped away from the house and trotted off, giving Greyleaf room to stand in the entrance and be observed.

Redheart, half asleep, cracked one eye. Then both shot wide open and she got to her feet.

Greyleaf weakly smiled. “So when do we start?”

[ladyfawkes]

A Murder of Snows by LadyFawkes Chapter 2/5 - The Toboggan Incident Current word count: 4278 Story Summary:

Cassandra teases Eugene one too many times about his dislike for snow. Rapunzel’s since been made aware of what the main reason is but she doesn’t know many others that Eugene has yet to divulge. He gives at least 5 examples that include reasons for him to loathe these tiny ice crystals. Each story is successively worse than the previous one.

Chapter Two: The Toboggan Incident

One winter some time after Eugene and his friend Arnie had left the orphanage, the pair were trudging along on a comparably nice-ish day. It had snowed an awful lot the prior weekend, but that day, the sun was shining bright. The air wasn’t frigid and as such, Arnie and Eugene each got a bit stir crazy inside their little warm cave setup in the mountainside. Arnie and Eugene were originally going to head into town when they caught sight of a small child struggling with a toboggan. The little girl had been on the mountain a few times over the past several weeks, ever since she’d received the shiny new toboggan at Christmas.

Eugene and Arnie had originally watched and envied the child because of her family and warm home. But they also knew the other local children made fun of her too. This little girl actually walked with a pronounced limp and all of the others refused to play with her based on that one thing alone. Even her elder brother who was supposed to be watching over her, making sure she wouldn’t fall over or injure herself, would often go off with friends his age rather than minding his younger sister. He typically abandoned her to play alone.

And though he couldn’t explain why, Eugene felt….an obligation to watch over this little brunette whenever her brother would ditch her, so she wouldn’t be left alone on the mountain. Arnie wasn’t so sure….at times young Arnie and Eugene marveled at the cruelty of children, no matter their living circumstances.

After about the third time the girl’s brother ditched her, she had spotted Eugene and Arnie in the trees, watching her. The boys fully expected her to yell at them, to chase them off. Even though they wouldn’t dream of bothering her, she hadn’t known that.

“Hulloooo!!�� the girl raised a mittened hand, waving grandly as she could with her feet nearly stuck tight in the fresh powder. “I’m Chelsea! What are your names?” Eugene and Arnie momentarily stared at each other in shock. Townie children were typically encouraged by their parents and others to ignore “street urchins” like Arnie and Eugene. It was a minor miracle that this girl was speaking with them so freely.

“Uh, I’m….Flynn?” said Eugene, giving an alias just in case. “And I’m Lance!” replied Arnie, waving his own arm. The pair continued to watch Chelsea for a few more moments.

“Hey, erm, are you stuck in the snow? Did you need some help climbing out?” asked Eugene as he slowly made his way down the slope. The snow slid easily and sections of it would cascade like shiny bits of frozen sand with each step he took. Chelsea held up her arms and looked down at her lower body, now hip-deep in the white powder.

The girl held up her arms and looked down helplessly at her trapped lower body and shrugged in consternation at her predicament. “Yes, please!!”

“C’mere and hold onto the toboggan, Lance,” said Eugene. At that, Arnie made his way down the mountain in Eugene’s trail. Then Arnie stood off to one side and steadied the sled as Eugene instructed Chelsea to grab the line attached to the toboggan and hold tight so it could help tow her out. Then Eugene reached down in the white powder and unstuck one of Chelsea’s feet and then the other, until the little girl was very sloooowly sliding downhill again, this time on her belly and elbows against the toboggan, with her freshly unstuck feet flailing happily behind her as she laughed.

Arnie and Eugene met the girl at the bottom of the slope and Chelsea stood up to her full still-tiny height and unhesitatingly threw her arms around Eugene.

“Oh, thank you, Lance and Flynn!” she said, her voice wavering. “My big brother Joshua is supposed to be minding me buuuuut he would rather be with his own older friends,” sniffled Chelsea. “I guess I can’t blame him. I am an annoying little tagalong. Mum is busy inside with the babies.” Eugene’s face bunched up in a scowl.

“If you were my little sister, I’d never leave you out here alone,” he vowed. “Yeah,” agreed Arnie, “we know too well what dangers can lay in wait up here on the mountain.”

Unhesitatingly, Chelsea brightened up and invited them to stay and play with her that day, working out a way to exchange towing and other similar services for downhill rides on her new toboggan. After an awkward pause, she could tell they were about to turn her down…..when she instead asked them to wait. She limped across the base of the mountain and into a warm-looking cottage a few hundred yards away.

After a few minutes, a plump sweet-looking woman followed Chelsea out the back door. “Mama, this is Flynn and Lance,” she began, “and they helped me out of the snow after Joshua left me alone. I’m sure I would’ve frozen to death!” she held a hand to her forehead dramatically.

Chelsea’s mother took one look at the boys in their worn-out coats, gloves with holes in the fingers, and ground down shoes. They had much more snow caked on all over in places where there shouldn’t be any….yet they hadn’t the proper gear to keep out the snow. The pair felt a bit embarrassed by her scrutiny.

“Thank you for helping Chelsea,” the girl’s mother said seriously. “Any particular reason why you stopped for her?” she quizzed.

Eugene looked at her in confusion. “We were on the mountain. Saw that she was stuck and clearly needed help. We asked, Chelsea said yes, and so we helped her,” he shrugged and said simply.

“So no thought of reward?” asked Chelsea’s mother.

“‘Reward’, ma’am?” Eugene echoed. “We’re only here at Chelsea’s request.” And the little girl nodded rapidly in confirmation.

“I see,” the woman replied, her countenance suddenly brightening considerably. “I’m Mrs. Thurgood. Do you boys know how to start a fire?”

“Uhh….y-yes? Ma’am?” said Eugene, wondering if this was a trick question.

“Then would you do us the very great honor of starting a fire in the outside stove?” She pointed behind and to their right toward a stand-alone brick hearth with a chimney a ways out from the home. “Everything you need -- flint, kindling -- is out there in that wood chest.” Arnie and Eugene proceeded to get a nice roaring fire started and were thawing out when Chelsea came back out of the cottage and said, “I knew she would like you!” Eugene and Arnie were accustomed to being hated and ran off upon first meeting much of the time.

Mrs. Thurgood returned outside, this time with a rather large bundle of winter clothing. “So long as you boys agree to mindin’ my Chelsea today, she says you may share her toboggan and I’ll let you keep this winter gear. Some of the gloves and mittens are missing their mates but if you both can find any items that fit you, you’re welcome to them. Mittens, gloves, mufflers, coats, and boots!”

Eugene and Arnie stared at one another in shock. “Ma’am, we didn’t do this for any reward.”

“Aye, Flynn, is it?” Eugene nodded. “You didn’t seek any reward so that’s why you’re getting one. Besides, these are castoffs, anyway; thus you’re helping me doubly -- this time by decluttering my home.” And the auburn-haired woman winked at them.

The two boys gaped at one another in awe after Mrs. Thurgood turned around to head back inside and Eugene dove for the pile of winter goods. Eugene and Arnie each found a handsome coat and hat. Although most children complained about wearing mufflers, these boys already appreciated just how warm they could be when properly worn.

Turns out that Mrs. Thurgood’s husband was a commissioned officer away at war. Joshua, a teen, could not be disciplined very well without his father around, especially when Mrs. Thurgood had to mind three other children under five years old. She paid the boys in meals and other perks for minding Chelsea and performing simple odd jobs outside while Mr. Thurgood was away. Mrs. Thurgood was such a kind gem, so unlike the other townie women. He and Arnie agreed they would never steal anything from Mrs. Thurgood.

A few weeks after Arnie and Eugene first rescued Chelsea, when the elder boy Joshua had time to stew over the fact that a couple of orphan children were effectively taking his place at home, thereby making him look bad and getting rewarded for it…..

On this clear day, after the weekend of blizzards, Chelsea wasn’t able to go outside with them. But Mrs. Thurgood was just fine with them borrowing and taking turns with the girl’s toboggan for the day, provided they returned it when they were finished. As such, that meant the boys were traipsing further up the mountain that day for longer sled runs. About an hour into their sledding, Eugene and Arnie had set up for another ride down the hill when they heard a whole bunch of shouting above them on the mountain.

Then they heard what seemed like a slipping-whoosh noise, followed by a deep rumbling.

“It sounds like thunder,” Arnie said, while the boys looked up into a crisp blue sky. Not a storm cloud -- nor any cloud, really -- in sight.

Then they heard some super-loud snapping and cracking sounds as the rumbling grew even louder. Finally, they looked upwards of themselves on the slope and they figured out what it was. A thick 10-ft rolling wall of snow came barreling down the mountain and swept away everything in its path. At the last second, in desperation, they turned the toboggan to face up-slope, and turned it upside down while attempting to shield themselves with it against the coming onslaught.

Poor Eugene and Arnie didn’t stand a chance. ~~~~~~~~~~~~((0))~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Wait, what?” Cassandra blinked in confusion. “How ever did you and Lance escape the avalanche??”

Again, Eugene nursed his hot cocoa, sipping strategically. “We didn’t,” he answered meaningfully, shrugging off her prying. [Slurrrrp.]

Cass glanced over at Rapunzel; the curly-haired woman threw her hands in the air in exasperation. Rapunzel, who knew that all she had to do was find the correct question, instead asked Eugene, “What happened post-avalanche? Certainly someone dug you out -- you’re sitting here with us now, after all,” the princess reasoned.

“That part I really couldn’t tell you,” Eugene replied. He kissed the back of Rapunzel’s hand. “But let’s see…..I remember cowering under the sled with Lance….and the horrendous thundering noise, the trees snapping like giant matchsticks, being engulfed and tumbling ass-over-teacups in a giant wave of snow.” He wasn’t expecting it, but a chill passed through Eugene as he shuddered at the memory. Briefly, he fell into reverie.

Cassandra wordlessly stood up to take Eugene’s empty mug from him, and surprised everyone by returning it to him with a refill. “Thanks,” he said quietly.

He accepted it from Cassandra gratefully, took a sip….and it helped Eugene far more than he thought it would. “The next thing I knew,” he continued his story, “I woke up in a warm bed with Mrs. Thurgood hovering over me. My left forearm was broken and splinted and I’d been knocked out and unconscious for the previous three days, apparently. The theory was that the toboggan probably smacked me on the arm and maybe side of the head during our tumble. I had a humdinger of a laceration in my scalp that required 20 stitches. Lance’s foot had caught a tree trunk on the way down the mountain and he got laid up too.”

“Whoa,” Rapunzel whispered. “So….do you…..do you have any idea what caused that avalanche?” she inquired timorously.

At that, Eugene’s expression darkened immediately from slightly sullen to downright pissed off. “Oh, we know exactly who caused it and why they did it,” he growled.

Cassandra was still in her rather relentless “poke the bear” mode of curiosity and thus kept egging him on. Though she wasn’t that great with emotions, instinct told her that she was doing the right thing by carefully encouraging Eugene to spill the tea with Rapunzel’s assurances.

“Do tell,” Cass spoke up, “is it anyone I know personally who caused it? If so, whose ass do I need to kick next week when we’re back in Corona?” She punched a fist into her palm.

Eugene’s eyebrows shot up in genuine surprise.

“What?” Cass asked after an awkward pause. “Nobody can mess with you but me,” she simply shrugged, cocking a hip and folding her arms in defiance.

Eugene’s eyes darted downward and he unsuccessfully smothered a grin with a hand that flew up to cover his mouth. He wasn’t accustomed to anyone being actively protective of him except for Rapunzel. Especially not over something that happened to him around 15 years ago…

He sighed, this time without rancor. “Remember Chelsea’s elder brother, Joshua?” Eugene asked as both women nodded. “Turns out he and a few of his best buddies were out to teach Lance and I a lesson for ‘messing with his family’, i.e. actually being responsible, minding Chelsea, and doing odd jobs for Mrs. Thurgood. So ol’ Joshie and his buddies decided that since we’d be flying solo without Chelsea that day, it’d be the perfect opportunity to bury their competition. Literally.”

Rapunzel and Cassandra gaped openly at him, this latest news was what they considered most shocking of all.

“.....what?” Eugene asked quietly, suddenly finding himself massively self-conscious due to their scrutiny. “As a kid on the streets, you get used to unmitigated hate from practically everyone,” he half-shrugged. Cass looked Eugene hard in the eye. On the flip side, Rapunzel’s eyes looked shiny with tears. She beckoned her beloved to switch from his place on the poufy chair and snuggle with her on the poufy loveseat instead.

Otherwise Eugene had just emigrated from the No. 1 Spot to the No. 2 Spot in the place. He was still good…..really, really good, especially with Rapunzel slipping her arm behind his back, somewhere between his shirt and his doublet. Then she leaned right in against him and with both her arms snaked around his waist, Rapunzel smooshed up against him that much closer by hooking her thumbs through the opposite sides of Eugene’s belt loop. Typically, that would be a nookie signal from her...but at this time….as she took turns stroking his arm and hooking her thumb through his belt loop….he could sense that she felt bad for him.

Eugene glanced up again at Cassandra, who by now had raised her booted foot upon an ottoman and was sipping her own hot cocoa, studying him with renewed scrutiny.

And although Eugene usually liked a lot of attention, his goal was to be admired through said attention -- not pitied. If there was even a hint of pity, it made him squirm. His hands subconsciously balled into fists. Rapunzel’s head lifted off his chest and she said, “Your heart sped up. What is it?”

Eugene clamped his jaw tight shut for a few seconds before blurting, “Okay, see this? The way you two are looking at me, right now….” The two girls tried to share a glance without his noticing.

“What way?” asked Rapunzel innocently. “What look?” demanded Cass simultaneously with forced nonchalance.

Eugene groaned and his face fell into his hands. Out of the blue, Cassandra asked, “When was the last time you talked about your past this way?”

“Lessee,” Eugene took his head out of his hands using a finger to tap his lip and pretended to consider. “Uhm, approximately never,” he answered forcefully, his arms folding stoutly in front of himself, as if he were directly challenging her .

“Easy, whoa, Fitzcowboy,” said Cassandra as she cautiously held out her hands in front of herself. “I’m not trying to provoke you. It was an honest question.”

“No wonder this is so hard for you,” Rapunzel said, “if you’ve never told anyone about this stuff before.” She kissed his upper arm and nuzzled into it.

“I...guess I never thought about it before,” Eugene replied softly, his face dropping into his hands. “I just don’t want anybody to pity me. I can’t stand pity.” Cassandra and Rapunzel exchanged a look of incredulity. Cass urged Rapunzel to keep Eugene talking.

Rapunzel reached up and touched Eugene’s cheek. “Is that why you stopped mentioning most of your past? It was after Cass first started mocking you, wasn't it?” Eugene pressed his lips together and stayed silent while further burying his face in his hands; Cassandra swallowed hard, visibly sank ,and looked sideways toward the floor under Rapunzel’s careful gaze.

“I…..I suppose I might have misjudged you, as a person….” glancing back at Rapunzel out of the corner of her eye, the blonde woman egged her on. Cass clenched her jaw and mumbled, “....even more harshly than I originally thought.”

A very stunned Eugene slowly came out from behind his hands to stare at Cassandra. She was studiously trying (and failing) to ignore his own gaze. Again, Rapunzel urged Cass to just….spill the tea already.

“The past few weeks, Fitzherbert, you’ve made it increasingly difficult for me to find reasons to despise you. First, you haul off in the middle of a cursed blizzard to rescue the King and Queen. Second, even though you and the other guys were waiting for Rapunzel’s blessing to go, something tells me that you would’ve found a way to leave anyway, had she refused you. Third….just these past two stories of yours alone let me know you’ve got every reason to loathe snow; yet just weeks ago, you hauled off in a blizzard, were hit by an avalanche, and fell off a mountain, all in one trip. And yet fourth -- here you are with us in the mountains during winter.” Finally, Cassandra paused and said, “I don’t know that I could personally keep subjecting myself to what amounts to my own worst fear at such a level.”

For a few seconds, Eugene studied the dark-haired young woman. The past several minutes, she’d spoken more kindly to him than she had during the prior several months since they’d met combined. He wasn’t quite sure what to make of it all. Good thing Rapunzel knew.

“Would you two just call a truce, already??” Rapunzel demanded impatiently, causing both Eugene and Cassandra to grin warmly, and glance away from each other self-consciously in spite of themselves.

“How can we possibly say no to that?” Eugene shrugged. “Search me,” Cass replied, as she walked across the room. She and Eugene shared the secret truce handshake that Rapunzel had taught them at the beginning of their friendship.

“I suppose that means it’s time for story No. 3,” continued Eugene. “This time, we’re back at the orphanage….”

[epicbasher65685]

(Soo yeah a few people wanted to read this so here it is. sorry I can’t write for anything but I tried my hardest to get my head cannon across)

TW: descriptions of blood and gore, abuse

“What a fantastic song! No one could ever go wrong with the brilliant song “Let’s Misbehave” by none other than the darb Cole Porter!” Alastor exclaimed excitedly with his powerful transatlantic accent into the microphone. “Truly a marvelous performance. Anywho! The bayou killer strikes again! That’s right folks you heard it here first! The bayou killer claims their 11th victim! Oh the tragedy! There seems to be a pattern in this killer’s cycle. The moon cycle! Who would’ve guessed? And who will be the twelfth on the full moon? What kind of monster from hell could possibly cause this much pain and torture to both the victims and their families?” He questioned the listeners. His smile grew bigger at his sarcastic yet genuine sounding empathy. Deep within him he knew there was none. If he tried to look any deeper in himself the only thing we would find would be the rumbling of his stomach and it’s almost snickering like sounds, laughing mischievously and knowingly at his sarcastic line of questioning. Alastor reached over and closed the report he was reading from with a resounding thud, a look of accomplishment graced his face. The listeners were shocked with the news, seeing that the killer is still at large and could pounce on them or their loved ones at any moment. “Lock your doors and stay safe ladies and gentlemen! This concludes tonight’s broadcast. Oh oh! Almost forgot the regularly scheduled joke! Just to lighten the mood a bit. What happened when the cannibal was late for dinner? He got the cold shoulder! Ahahahahaha! See you tomorrow folks, stay safe!” He said brightly as he ended his radio broadcast, turning off his equipment and microphone.

The streets were full of Ebullience and joyful spirit. The year was 1933. New Orleans, Louisiana was really quite a marvelous and interesting place to live. Alastor McCarthy walked down the sidewalk in his clean white shirt and suspenders, shoes polished so thoroughly you can see the bright sun and the blue sky reflecting off of it! All the Cadillacs and Buicks cruised down the smoothly paved road. Almost everyone in this town knew Alastor. And Alastor knew almost everyone just as well. The lovely people waved as they saw him walk by, and he of course would wave back with a friendly smile on his face. He was always smiling! One happy fellow indeed, everyone would imagine. He walked down the sidewalk with a pep in his step softly humming to the bustling jazz that played from the gramophones in the nearby shops. He was making his way home now, it was almost supper and he needed to help his mother prepare it! Oh yes, Alastor loved his mother dearly, she was a true light in his life. People like to tease him sometimes and call him somewhat of a mama's boy. He would be lying if he protested this though. He truly loved his mother. His father, however, he did not. Just the thought of him made Alastors smile falter, just a smidge. He was a real goof, and a drunk. Alastor despised him, but only put up with him because his mother still loved him. Alastor could never see what an amazing woman like herself could ever find in a hunk of junk like him.

The noise of the streets died down as he started to approach his neighborhood. The walk from the radio station to his house was only a 30 minute or so walk. He figured it was good exercise and also an efficient way to build up his appetite. When Alastor wasn’t doing his radio broadcasts, he would find himself hunting deer in the nearby bayou. His father showed him how to hunt when he was a young boy. He had mastered the art of hunting and butchering the creatures he captured. Whether it be deer, rabbit, boar… human. His mother taught him the culinary arts, which he soon too mastered. He would help his mother prepare jambalaya, his favorite dish, when he was younger. He reminisced about those good ol’ days. Well, most of it at least. He had finally arrived home.

“Hello mother! Father.” He called out into the calm house. He took his shoes off and saw his mother appear from the kitchen.

“Oh! Alastor, how I’ve missed you dear.” She said lovingly as she ran toward Alastor to hug him. “How was your day? Anything exciting happening down in that ol’ radio station? I completely forgot to tune in today. Silly me. Apologies!”

“No need mother, it was just business as usual, quite copacetic! We had our top music hits and, well, a quite shocking report on the bayou killer.” Alastor explained

“Oh? Was he murdered? Oh oh! Caught by the fuzz? Hot dawg!” She exclaimed in excitement.

“...No mother, he was not. Always jumping to conclusions! Ahahaha. My, that’s just like you!” He said. Her words pained him only in the slightest. She obviously disliked this killer. Yet she unknowingly loved this said killer more than anyone else. He felt a sick giddy because of this. Why, he found it quite humorous! How twisted. “He’s claimed his 11th victim, unfortunately.” He said with a softer voice.

“Oh dear… how horrible. I can’t believe he’s getting away with this! Someone has to stop him eventually.” She said with sadness in her eyes. Alastor didn’t like to see her like this, not ever!

“Yes I know, quite the tragedy I’m sure. I heard he was a rude man however, a real dewdropper as some may say! The man had nothing going for him anyways.” He explained, or rather explained himself, for that matter.

“Darlene, when the hell is that dinner going to be finished?” Gus, Alastors father, yelled from the living room couch. He had just finished his twelfth beer of the day. Alastor could hear the subtle clinks of the glass bottle against the cup holder. Indicating that yes, he had indeed gotten drunk again.

“It’ll be ready in about half an hour dear!” She yelled back, Completely forgetting about the news of the bayou killer. An audible groan sounded from the living room in response.

“Alastor, would you be a dear and help me peel the potatoes for dinner?” She questioned

“Of course mother! Let’s get started then shall we?” Alastor asked joyfully.

Once dinner was prepared and the table was set, Alastor’s mother called for Gus to come and eat. Another audible groan sounded from the living room as Gus managed to stand up, very blotto from all his drinks. Without anyone seeing, Alastor was quick to drop a pill into Gus’s drink at the table. He then turned away and started to whistle an innocent jazz tune.

“Oh, Alastor, I almost forgot about the pie in the oven. Would you mind taking it out for me and cutting it’s pieces?” She asked him kindly. Alastor responded with a quick ‘yep!’ and put on the oven mitts. He took the pie out and put it on the stove. He took his mitts off and placed them back on the counter, only to replace them with a knife. Without hesitation he stuck the knife into the steaming pie. It smelt like delicious baked cherries. The pie oozed red juice and covered the knife. He continued to cut even slices into the beautiful pie. He stared longingly at his work, admiring the precise cuts and the knife dripping red juice. He licked the knife clean and saw his father's reflection walking into the room when he looked at the knife. He stared for a moment, then put the knife into the sink. Gus finally arrived at the table as everyone sat down.

“So what do we have here?” Gus questioned as he occasionally hiccuped. He had messy black hair and his eyes were half lidded. He wore a black vest with his tie sloppily tied.

“Well I made venison, mashed potatoes, and beans for tonight. That damn venison was quite tricky to cook, but hopefully I got it just right.” She explained

“I’m sure it turned out great, mother.” He smiled at her. Alastor eyed his father as he sat down. Gus started digging in with the slightest amount of politeness. Hungrily shoving the food into his mouth. Alastor sighed and picked up his utensils to start eating.

“What is it boy? You’ve got something to say?” He snapped at Alastor. Glaring at him with whatever amount of sobriety he had left.

“No, sir.” Alastor responded while staring at his plate. He hated this. He hated his father and he hated how he treated both him and his mother. Not to mention how rude he was. All of the bayou killers victims reminded him of his father. What a coincidence huh? No, he chose them very carefully, and he planned out every bit of it. Every time he killed them he imagined as though the person was truly his father. It gave him satisfaction and it quenched his thirst, for the time being. But this thirst would always reappear. He could never get rid of it through these involuntary murders of his, and he knew this. He knew it would only be a matter of time before… he would claim his final victim. That’s all Alastor thought about when he looked his father in the eyes. The twelfth. The twelfth. The twelfth. The second full moon. It will complete his design.

“Whatever,” He sneered at Alastor. Gus downed his drink in a few gulps. Alastor watched with a smile. Then Gus began to cut into the venison, and suddenly there was an irritated look on his face. “This venison is overcooked.” He started while he looked up at Darlene.

“Oh, yes I was afraid that might happen…” Darlene quietly said with a look of disappointment appearing on her face.

“Isn’t that just perfect? Maybe you should learn how to cook properly instead of having a gay ol’ time dancing swing like a flapper at the club down the road. Dumb-Dora can’t do anything right can you? Darlene was taken back by his sudden outburst. She apologized and told him it wouldn’t happen again with a tinge of fear spreading on her face and tears threatening to breach her eyes.

“Well, actually, I do have something to say,” Alastor said as he interrupted his mother’s apologies. “Maybe if you stopped getting bent everyday like a normal person, maybe people might actually like you! You’re such a flat tire and a real boozehound. You think it’s ok to treat us like this? For crying out loud you’ve been doing this for years! You just futz around and do whatever you want, when you want, and how you want!” Alastor exclaimed loudly at his father while eyeing him with a scornful look. He wasn’t going to let him talk to his mother that way, no sir! Enough was enough. Darlene looked at Alastor in shock. She really can’t believe he said that to him. A wave of panic hits her knowing what’s going to come next.

“Why, you little! How dare you talk to me like that? I come home after a long day and this is what I get? A cheap meal and a disrespectful family?” Gus’s voice grew louder and louder with every word he spoke. He pointed to Alastor. “You… I’ll wipe that stupid smile off your face permanently!” Gus stood up and walked over to Alastors side of the table. Alastor and Darlene stood up quickly, knowing this situation is about to become physical.

“Don’t you dare touch him!” Darlene shouted as she grabbed hold of Alastors arm. Alastor backed up while the adrenaline started coursing through his veins. Gus took hold of Darlene and threw her against the counter. She fell on the way down with a yelp hitting her head on the edge of the counter. Darlene’s vision started to blur and soon after she drifted into unconsciousness as she heard the faint yelling of Alastor.

“You absolute madman! Now look what you’ve done. You’re some real tough guy hm? Well, I’m sure you’ll enjoy my next show, you’re the super important participant, after all!” Alastor said with a growing smile. His creole accent slipping out for only a moment as he yelled. “Aren’t you excited?”

“What are you… talking about..?” Gus talked as his words became sloppy and quiet. The once calming and peaceful kitchen warping and turning in place as his vision grew cloudy and dark. His eyes lidded fully, the last thing he saw before he fell to the ground was Alastors prideful smile. Alastor thought Gus would pull something like this. All this commotion, that is. Yet it was in the back of his mind as was planning out his demise. He stared at Gus for a good while, lying there helplessly. Although this isn’t exactly how he planned it out, he was still ultimately satisfied with the outcome. That is, until he remembered his mother lying on the ground. Her nicely combed and silky brunette hair in a bun was now frizzing out everywhere, the bun loosened from the altercation. Her lids shielding her innocent blue eyes to what has become of her husband, and the truth of her faithful son. Alastor slowly picked her up and placed her on the couch. He took an ice pack from the kitchen and placed it on the noticeable bump on her forehead.

“Do wake up soon, won’t you?” He whispered to her. He kissed her forehead and made his way into the kitchen. He managed to pick his father up with a few strained breathes, grabbed the knife out of the sink, and walked out the backdoor.

It was about 8pm now, and the sun had already cast its final flare. Only to replace it, was a thoughtless moon. Alastor navigated his way throughout his backyard and soon into the bayou unseen. Gus remained unconscious and hung over Alastors shoulder. Once Alastor traversed deep enough into the bayou. He tied Gus up to an old bald cypress tree. It’s leaves spaced out enough to let the moonlight fall and flicker between them. A few moments later, Gus finally awoke to a conscious state. Confused and dazed to where he was, and how he got there.

“Hello lucky contestant! Welcome to my show!” Alastor exclaimed in a cheerful announcer voice.

“Al? Where.. where the hell am I?” He said in a choked voice. He tried to move his arms, but they were restrained by a tightly tied rope. “What the hell are you doing?” He said as his voice wavering. Alastor took out his knife and walked slowly up to Gus. Gus watched every little movement Alastor made, his adrenaline rising with each step.

“Oh you poor thing. Haven’t you realized what’s happening by now?” Alastor teased as he lunged playfully forward, causing Gus to gasp and defensively lean back in the tree. ‘How pathetic’ Alastor thought to himself. “What? Don’t tell me your giving me the cold shoulder! Ahahahahahaha!” Alastor laughed at his silly little inside joke. He lowered himself to Gus’s level on the ground and pointed the knife at his chest. “Boy that thing must be pounding! I think I’ll eat your heart first!” Alastor exclaimed once again. Gus’s face was pale with fear as the knife slowly etched its way inside of his chest, blood soaking his already stained shirt. He screamed in excruciating pain as Alastor carved all the way down to his waistline. Exposing his organs and blood to the everlasting moonlight. Gus writhed in pain as he looked Alastor in the eyes.

“Y-you…killed them?” Gus managed to choke out. Disbelief filled his eyes.

“Hmm? Oh! That’s correct!” Alastor said while he backed up, admiring his work. Alastor looked down at his hands and his cuffed sleeves. The blood dripping off of his hands was much more black then the usual dark red.

“My! The mother was right! Blood really does look black in the moonlight,” He said. His smile unwavering and as prominent as always. That was the last thing Gus saw as his vision started to melt away for the last time. Alastor kneeled beside Gus and pulled out his heart behind his rib cage. He took a big bite from it without hesitation, just like how one would eat an apple. He noted that it tasted almost the same as a deers.

Soon after, a sudden rush of panic struck Alastor as he heard a males voice calling close by. He quickly turned toward the sound and saw multiple men in the distance holding flashlights pointing in Alastors direction. He hopped to his feet in a frenzy and ran deeper into the bayou. It was dark and he could barely see where he was running, but all he knew was that he needed to get away. It was only a matter of time the cops had found him. The pattern was quite obvious, Alastor knew. Yet, he thought it was orderly and scheduled, and that was something he’s always taken to heart. As he was running, he recalled his fondest memories and previous murders as the cops chased him on his tail. He knew this was it for him, unless he could throw them off somehow. Quickly, he noticed out of the corner of his eye a figure. It was a lone deer. It looked him in the eye without movement. The deer eyed him knowingly. The full moon shining between its broad antlers.

Suddenly, the night and day remembered how they came to be. Alastor glared back at this deer, his smile wavering as he was shot dead in the forehead with a rifle. He fell to the ground as his smile fell completely. A hunter had missed the deer, accidentally shooting Alastor killing him instantly. Surely it was too dark for the hunter to have seen him. There was no hope for him. Then, the deer quickly ran off into the deep bayou startled from the shadow of nobody there.

[bolinshipskorrasami]

Like a Comet Pulled From Orbit

Author’s Note: Alright ghouls, gals, and gents. Been working on this fic all week to beat away the angst that AoaW left me with! My first (and probably only?) Lumity fanfic, minimally edited. I honestly have no idea how it turned out, I’ve been staring at it too long. But I hope someone enjoys it!

Read here on ao3 if you prefer!

Summary:  Luz takes Amity to see the musical Wicked in the human world. Conversations about shipping and drawing of fanart ensues, which helps both witches come to some long overdue realizations.

Like a Comet Pulled From Orbit

The winter air was crisp and cold as Luz exited the theater. Her nostrils burned for a moment as she breathed it in and her body adjusted to the difference from the warmth of the building. She glanced over towards Amity who was adjusting her scarf tighter around her neck, just a few steps behind her.

“So, what did you think?” she blurted out excitedly, unable to contain the question. She had been watching Amity’s reactions almost more than the show itself throughout the performance – Luz couldn’t help it. She was excited to share this with the other witch. For one, it was Amity’s first trip to the human world with her, so she wanted it to be a perfect and amazing experience for her friend. For another, Luz herself had seen Wicked on at least two other occasions with her mami. And listened to the soundtrack almost as endlessly as she had read books one through five of Good Witch Azura. Experiencing it through Amity’s reactions was like experiencing it for the first time all over again.

Amity didn’t answer right away, her brow creasing in that cute way Luz noticed it did whenever she was thoughtfully contemplating an answer to one of Luz’s questions. Luz always admired the amount of thought Amity put into her answers, so she always tried to give Amity the patience she needed.

In the meantime, she watched the crowd dispersing in the street and caught a snowflake with her tongue. It had started to flurry while they had been in the theater and a thin coat of snow littered the sidewalk and street around them. The way the snowflakes danced in the glow of the evening streetlights reminded her of her first light spell in the Boiling Isles. Despite being in the human world, Luz felt like tonight held so much magic within it, if only she could read the glyphs around her.

“It was really interesting… The music was so beautiful… you know, we don’t have music like that in the Boiling Isles,” Amity’s voice brought Luz back and she turned to face the green haired girl once more. Snow was starting to stick to the dark blue beanie she had borrowed from Luz to hide her ears – a detail they both might have forgotten, if not for Luz’s mama mentioning it on their way out the door. Luz thought it was a shame Amity had to hide any part of herself – but she did have to admit that her friend looked very adorable in the beanie. She might just have to let her keep it…

“Luz, are you even listening?” Luz’s attention snapped back to find an amused expression on her friend’s face. She returned a sheepish smile. “Sorry! Yes! I was also just thinking, we should find someplace warm to talk!” Okay, not exactly what she had been thinking, but close enough. She did notice Amity’s face was turning pink from the cold. Amity nodded in agreement.

“I think I know the perfect place, c’mon!” and with that, Luz grabbed Amity’s gloved hand and began to pull her down the snowy street.

 ***

 “After you, Miss Blight,” Luz said as she opened the door to the coffee shop with dramatic flair and flourish, giving an overexaggerated bow as she gestured for Amity to enter. Amity, for her part, rolled her eyes but let out a small giggle, which warmed Luz’s stomach more than any coffee probably could.

They approached the counter together, and Luz began going over all the different drinks and giving her recommendations. Amity looked very overwhelmed. Luz gave her usual order of a caramel macchiato (made with almond milk, of course) with extra expresso. When the barista looked to Amity, she simply said “I’ll have one of those, too.”

Luz grinned and took out the cash her mom had given her before they left. Amity took out her own coin purse at the same time. Luz laughed and placed her hand on Amity’s, pushing the bag back down. “My treat! I don’t think they take snails here,” she whispered behind her other hand. She watched as Amity’s cheeks reddened and she mumbled a thanks.

They sat down with their drinks a few minutes later. The coffee shop was fairly empty, which made sense given how late in the evening it was. It felt nice to have Amity’s attention all to herself in such a warm, cozy place, away from the commotion of the Boiling Isles, away from school.

“So, did you have a favorite song?” Luz asked, slurping at her whipped cream.

Amity blinked rapidly, as if she was coming out of a dream. “What?”

“From the show,” Luz added, realizing her mind had probably jumped from point A to point Z as it sometimes did.

Amity’s cheeks glowed as she replied, “Oh, right… Well… all of them were so good, it’s hard to pick a favorite.”

“I know, right?!” Luz agreed, nearly spilling her drink in her excitement. She caught it just in time and Amity’s laughter rang out prettier than sleigh bells. The sound made Luz’s insides squirm and for a moment she wondered if they had put dairy in her drink by accident.

“But… if I had to pick… I really liked that one near the end that Elphaba and Glinda sang together. I thought it was sweet.” Amity looked down at her drink as she finished her thought. She had taken the cover off and was swirling it around, as if she were in the oracle track trying to read a crystal ball or tea leaves maybe. “What… is this exactly?”

“It’s deliciousness in a cup! Try it!” Luz responded, taking another gulp. Amity sipped slowly, with the kind of poise Luz only ever saw in commercials when people drank beverages. How did she do things so gracefully anyway? She watched Amity’s reaction with the anticipation of someone watching their favorite grudgeby team go for a goal.

Amity’s face lit up like the stage lights in the opening number as she let out a drawn out “mmmmmm” of satisfaction. “It’s good, right?” Luz said for confirmation, grinning ear to ear.

“It’s so different from anything on the Boiling Isles!” Amity agreed. They sat in a moment of silence, enjoying their drinks.

“Don’t you find it kind of… sad though?” Amity said suddenly.

Luz tilted her head in confusion. “Did you already finish your drink? I can get you another one –”

Amity shook her head, smiling at Luz’s reaction. “No, I meant the show. I mean, Glinda lost her best friend…”

Luz considered this. “Yeah, I suppose you’re right, that is sad. But I mean, she had still had Fiyero!”

“Yeah, I guess… I don’t know, their relationship seemed kinda of… contrived. I mean, one minute he’s with Glinda about to get married and then he suddenly runs off with Elphaba?”

“No way! He was inspired by her the whole time though. And when they saved that little lion cub together… I mean, talk about romance!”

Amity scoffed, “Yeah, but Elphaba and Glinda had so much more chemistry, even when they were singing about how much they hated each other-”

Luz gasped, genuinely surprised but understanding now. “You’re a Gelphie shipper?!”

Amity looked like she didn’t know whether she should deny this as some sort of insult or defend it to the death. Probably because she had no clue what Luz was talking about. “A what now?”

“You know, Glinda and Elphaba, Gelphie. It’s their ship name!” Luz pulled out her phone and typed furiously until she had several bits of fanart sprawled across her screen. She held it out in front of Amity’s face.

“Oh,” was all her friend replied, her mouth accentuating the syllable as it stayed in place and her golden eyes darted across the screen. She regained her composure after a few moments, blinking rapidly.

“Well… yes. I suppose I am a… Gelphie shipper then,” Amity sat up straighter as she said it but her face held something that was difficult for Luz to read. Funny how she could read magical glyphs from an enchanted island but her friend’s face was, at times, absolutely indecipherable. “Is that… bad?” Amity asked, and Luz realized she hadn’t responded in an appropriate amount of time.

She gave a laugh, hoping to dispel some of the tension. “No! Of course not. I mean, who doesn’t love a good old-fashioned Enemies to Friends to Lovers trope, amiright?” Luz waggled her eyebrows suggestively for emphasis. Amity tried to hide her smile in her coffee cup, but Luz could tell her plan had worked.

The commotion of chairs scraping the floor and being stacked on tables suddenly penetrated their little bubble, reminding Luz how late it was. “We should probably get going – I wanna make one last stop on our way back to my house!” She informed Amity excited, standing and putting her coat back on.

“Lead the way, oh fearless champion,” Amity replied, a more reserved imitation of Luz’s gestures from earlier. Luz smiled and took her hand, leading her out the door. They weren’t even outside completely before Amity’s face was already pink from the cold again.

 ***

 Amity’s heart was beating so fast and hard as she followed Luz through the strange hard and slippery roads of the human world. She wondered for a moment if maybe coffee was poisonous to witches… then again, Luz hadn’t let go of her hand even after they had exited the coffee shop, walking quickly and excitedly chattering as they went. She supposed that could have something to do with it.

Luz pointed out different things that Amity might not be familiar with and normally Amity would be fascinated to learn about this strange new world. But the hand holding was very distracting. And her heart was very loud. And it was all a little overwhelming, but she really didn’t want it to end. She watched Luz as she spoke about human things like cars, traffic lights, and a thing called “Santa” they passed by. He appeared to be some sort of… demon maybe? He rang a bell and smiled too widely and made a strange sort of howling noise. Luz paid him a tribute – perhaps for safe passage across the road? - of the strange papers she carried around that seemed to act as the equivalent to snails in the human world.

“Where are we going?” Amity finally asked as Luz paused her tour guide-like speech to look both ways before tugging her across the road toward a small park they had passed on the way here.

“It’s a surprise! Don’t worry, we’re almost there,” Luz squeezed her hand reassuringly, excitement dancing across her features, making the warm brown of her cheeks glow in the moonlight.

As they entered the park and Amity began to look around, she realized it wsn’t moonlight at all. It was what looked to Amity to be a million different stars – or maybe they were light spells? – glowing in the trees all around them. Some of them sparkled in a kaleidoscope of color – red, green, blue, yellow. It was absolutely dazzling, unlike anything Amity had ever seen.

“Oh wow…” was all Amity could manage to say, staring in awe at the scene around them.

“Pretty cool, huh?” Luz said proudly with a big grin, as if she had personally produced all these little lights for Amity.

“It’s… amazing. What is this place, Luz? I thought you said the human world didn’t have magic?” Amity took her glove off and reached out her hand to hesitantly hover over the enchantment of the trees.

Luz gave a chuckle. “It’s not magic – well, I mean, not like on the Boiling Isles. These are Christmas lights. They use electricity like the streetlights around town.” Luz reached out and placed one in Amity’s hand, as if sensing her uncertainty. Amity pinched the light between her fingers, feeling its fragile little warmth against her skin.

“How strange,” she commented. “Everything here is so wonderfully strange…” Amity’s voice trailed off as she continued to look around her. The collective brightness in the trees lit up the space around them in a hazy glow. It made the whole moment feel more like a dream than reality.

“C’mon, there’s more to see! This path will take us closer to my house, too,” Luz said, breaking Amity out of her trance. Luz grabbed her arm this time, tugging her along.

As they walked, the lights morphed into different shapes and figures. Luz explained this was all for some human holiday and pointed out some of the different symbols for Amity. A candy cane. A reindeer. A gingerbread man (that one she was pretty sure that one was actually a demon from the Boiling Isles, but she didn’t mention it). Amity wasn’t sure what was more beautiful – the glorious and picturesque glow of the lights with the snow falling around them onto the trees; or Luz as she spoke excitedly about each light picture, sometimes elaborating with a story about her mom or growing up in the human world. Amity never wanted it to end.

***

By the time they got back to Luz’s house, it was late and they were both exhausted from all the walking and being in the cold for so long. Luckily, Luz’s mom – Ms. Noceda (who Amity had learned earlier, was not in fact, named Ms. the Human) – had already made up their sleeping arrangements in Luz’s bedroom. She asked them how the show was and while Amity said a few things here and there when asked directly, she mostly let Luz do the talking. Ms. Noceda was very warm and kind to her – which was more than she could probably say for how her parents would ever treat Luz. It made her feel a bit guilty, that she couldn’t return the same favor to Luz. But she tried not to think about that.

Which, as it turned out, was very easy once Ms. Noceda turned in.

“Buenos noches, mija. Good night, Amity. See you both bright and early!” she said as she kissed Luz on the forehead and waved at Amity. They were both in their respective sleeping bags on the floor beside Luz’s bed. When Ms. Noceda flicked the lights off, hundreds of stars lit up the ceiling of Luz’s room. Amity was left alone with the sound of her own obnoxious heartbeat. Where she was expected to sleep. Next to the girl she liked. Why had she agreed to this again?

“I still can’t believe you got your parents to say yes to a sleepover in the human world!” Luz whispered conspiratorially.

“Heh, yeah, I mean, no big deal…” Amity said, glad the lack of light would hide her blush. She may have left out a few details. Like how she had, in fact, used a combination of blackmail and bribery on Edric and Emira in order to get them to produce an illusion copy of herself for bedtime and breakfast. She was going to be doing their chores for a very long time.

“You know, I think this is my first real sleepover,” Luz said. Amity looked at her, surprised. “Really?”

“Well, I mean, there was that one time Willow, Gus, and I used the Moonlight Conjuring to take the Owl House for a drive…” Amity laughed, remembering the look on Boscha’s face when she had seen that on Penstagram. Not that hers had probably looked any different.

“But, I’m not really sure that counts, since we didn’t get much sleep,” Luz continued thoughtfully.

“You didn’t have any sleepovers with any of your human friends?” Amity asked, still somewhat surprised by this revelation.

“Heh… No. I didn’t really… I don’t have any human friends, really,” the tone in Luz’s voice pinched at Amity’s heart a bit. In all the time they’d known each other, she had never really thought to ask about Luz’s life in the human world or her other friends. And now she knew why Luz herself had never mentioned any, either. Instinctively – whether to comfort herself or Luz, she wasn’t quite sure – Amity reached hand out to grasp one of Luz’s.

“Well, I’m glad we’re friends, Luz,” Amity said. She wasn’t sure she’d ever be brave enough to tell Luz everything she felt for her – it felt too big, too fragile. She was too afraid of it breaking. But she needed Luz to know this truth at least. That she mattered. That she was grateful to have her around.

Luz’s eyes widened in surprise at first, but a warm smile quickly followed as she squeezed Amity’s hand back. “Me too. Even if you are going soft on me, Blight,” Luz replied playfully. Amity rolled her eyes and yawned, which made Luz yawn too.

They laid there, eyes drooping heavily as sleep began to take them both. The small part of Amity’s mind that was still conscious enough to have a coherent thought realized that Luz hadn’t let go of her hand, even as her breathing slowed and she began to snore quietly. In that moment, as she let herself drift off to sleep, she decided that even if she had to do Ed and Em’s chores for the rest of eternity, it was totally worth it.

***

The next day, Luz kissed her mama good-bye – she still had a week left of winter vacation and that meant more time at Hexside. That was part of the deal – as long as Luz kept her grades up and didn’t cause too much commotion at human school, her mami had agreed that she could spend vacations learning magic in the Boiling Isles. She and Amity packed up their things from their sleepover and met Eda at the portal. She gave them a ride to school on her staff. Luz was sad to leave the human world behind if only because she had really enjoyed showing Amity around. Amity had seemed so relaxed... Maybe it had been stepping away from the pressures of her life in the Boiling Isles.

School that day was hard to sit through. This wasn’t unusual for Luz, but it didn’t usually happen during her classes at Hexide. Her mind kept drifting away from the lectures and into the magic of last night. Watching Amity take her first sip of coffee, listening to Amity talk about the show, watching her experience Christmas lights for the first time…

“Hello, earth to Luz!” suddenly a hand was waving in her face. She blinked before looking at Gus and Willow.

“Wha- Sorry! What’d I miss?” Luz asked. Gus and Willow exchanged looks.

“You mean besides all of class?” Gus said. He looked down at the paper in front of Luz, which she had been doodling on.

“You better not zone out like that in Magical Plants today. We’re dealing with man-eating mandrakes today!” Willow said with a nudge. “What were you drawing anyway?”

Luz looked down at her latest creation. “Oh, it’s just characters from that musical Amity and I saw last night…” Luz suddenly felt like she wanted to hide it, like it was a private secret she wasn’t quite ready to share with the rest of her friends. Which was… weird. That was probably a weird feeling to have, right? She nonchalantly slipped it into her bag and stood up to move to the next class with her friends. Willow gave her a funny look but didn’t say anything more.

“Well I’ve got High Level Illusions next – what about you guys?” Gus asked as they walked into the hallway.

“I’ve got abomination next,” Luz said excitedly. She swore she saw Gus and Willow exchange another look. Then again, maybe she was reading too much into it.

“We’ll see you and Amity at lunch then?” Willow asked. Luz nodded, high fived Gus, and practically ran down the hallway to her next class, just barely avoiding a hall monitor as she went.

***

Abomination class went by much more quickly than the rest of her day had and she had even managed to pay attention to most of the lesson. There was the occasional distraction, like whenever she looked over to Amity who sometimes chewed on her pencil when she was thinking through an answer. She also must have gotten distracted when mixing her abomination ingredients at some point, because while Amity’s looked absolutely perfect, Luz’s had come out with an extra head and oddly misshapen. It wasn’t a total loss though, since she had managed to get Amity to laugh by trying to get her abomination to reenact one of the scenes from the show from last night.

She walked Amity to her locker after class – Amity’s abomination carried both their books – and they were first to their lunch table. While waiting for Gus and Willow, they talked more about the finer points of the musical.

“So, how was your date in the human world?” Willow asked as she and Gus sat down across from Luz and Amity.

Luz almost choked on whatever mystery meat she was eating for lunch today – she pounded her fist on her chest to clear her throat. “Date?” she choked out. Is that- did Amity think- had she really missed…?

She heard a strangled gasp from beside her and turned to look at Amity, who returned her gaze. Her face was as red as a specific shade of eye shadow she’d seen Eda wear once. She was pretty sure it was called apple blood – or maybe it was vampire blood? In any case, their eyes darted between each other and Willow, both stunned into silence.

Willow’s eyes widened, as if she just realized her mistake. “Oh – I just mean, um-“ whatever excuse she was going to use to save them all from this mortifying moment, Gus put a stop to it just then as he arrived at their table and took his seat next to Willow.

“Hey Luz! Do you have time to stop by after school today and check out some new artifacts I found for the H.A.S.?”

Luz finally swallowed the mouthful she had dislodged from her throat. “Sure!” she said. She then proceeded to shove way more of her lunch into her mouth than she should have, cheeks full as a chipmunk’s before winter.

“I- I just remembered um, I have a meeting with Principal Bump about my class schedule – I gotta go!” Amity stood up abruptly, bumping the table as she went. She disappeared down the hallway with alarming speed. As she moved, something dropped out of her bag, fluttering to the floor.

“Amity wait! You forgot-” Luz tried to call after her, but she was already gone. She bent to pick up the paper – there was a good chance she’d run into her later in the day and she could give it back to her then…

But as Luz looked at the paper in question, it was as if a firecracker went off in her stomach and her mind blanked out, like static on a TV, before the entire picture snapped back on, clearer than it had ever been. “Oh cramity…” she muttered to herself, realization flooding through her.

Gus and Willow, having witnessed all of this, shared a glance with each other. “Are you and Amity okay?” Gus asked, a puzzled look on his face.

“Yeah… I might need to raincheck you on the HAS meeting though, Gus! There’s something I gotta do after school today! I’ll explain later, gotta go!” and with that Luz launched herself from the table, vibrating with excitement and purpose.

As she fled the cafeteria, she heard Gus’s confused reply. “Sure! Good luck! Wait… what’s a raincheck?”

 ***

The school day could not end fast enough for Amity Blight. She needed to get as far away from this ultimate place of humiliation as quickly as possible. She considered skipping out on her afternoon classes altogether – Ed and Em did it all the time, for crying out loud! – but she couldn’t bring herself to do it. Fortunately, she didn’t have any classes with Luz, Willow, or Gus on her schedule for the day, which was a relief. But what about tomorrow? She thought to herself. Maybe she could convince her parents that she was sick with demon flu? Maybe she could just convince them she should transfer schools altogether… that seemed like a perfectly reasonable solution to this whole crush problem, right?

When the last bell finally screamed, signaling dismissal, she didn’t even go to her locker to put her books away. Too much of a risk, running into Luz again. She needed more time to think, figure out what to say. She had acted way too weird when Willow said the D word. Why hadn’t she just played it cool and waved it off?

She didn’t see Luz and co at all as she made her way out the front doors, for which she was thankful. But ofc ourse that luck only stretched so far as Ed and Em came sidling up beside her.

“Mittens! How was your date night with our favorite human? Did you ask for her hand in marriage yet?” Em cut right to the point, looping their arms together.

“Yeah sis, tell us everything!” Edric’s arm fell over her shoulders as they sandwiched her in, leaving no room for escape. “Leave no details out! Well, except for your smooching, we don’t need to hear about-”

Amity could not handle this right now. She felt her face heat up to what could only be described as an unhealthy degree, embarrassment and anger both boiling over.

“QUIT IT!” she shouted, her arms flying outward, knocking the twins away from her. Everything starts feeling like too much and Amity feels pinpricks behind her eyes. She can’t go home, not like this. Not with Em and Ed teasing her the whole way. “I gotta go study at the library, let mom and dad know I’ll be home later,” Amity says quickly, willing her voice to stay steady as she speeds up her pace.

“Oh c’mon Mittens, was it something we said?” Edric shouted after her. She didn’t stop to reply, just kept her eyes forward, determined to get to her destination as quickly as possible.

***

As soon as she walked into the town library, Amity felt a sense of relief wash over her. She took a deep breath, the scent of paper and dust covered books grounding her. The quiet atmosphere settled her nerves. In here, she felt safe. In here, she can breathe and clear her head of the day’s troubles.

She spent some time just wandering through the stacks, keeping an eye out for new additions in her favorite sections. The anxieties of her day begin to shed little by little, clearing her mind enough for her to rethink the events. Maybe things weren’t really as bad as she had initially thought. Afterall, Luz could be pretty oblivious. There was no reason to lose her head about it all – it’s not like Amity herself had called it a date, after all.

Amity finally found herself in front of the romance section and, after looking around her to be sure no one saw, she tugged at “The Lone Witch and the Secret Room.” Yes, everything was going to be just fin-

Amity froze as she entered her sanctuary and the shelf slid shut behind her. Her bag dropped out of her hands and her eyes widened.

“Luz-”

“Hey Amity!-” they both spoke at the same time, their greetings smashing together awkwardly.

“What are you-”

“I wanted to see-” they both started and stopped again. The absurdity of it all helped ease some of Amity tension and she let out a laugh. Luz followed suit, taking a step closer to where Amity stood still by the doorway.

“Amity, hey, I’m sorry I know this is like, your space and everything. I just… I didn’t know where else to look for you after you left during lunch today…” Luz finally broke through to explain. Amity shifted her weight from one leg to the other, feeling a big guilty. So she had noticed her abrupt exit.

“Leave lunch? Oh, yeah, well, you know, I had to uh, I forgot to turn in my abomination assignment, and I didn’t want it to be late, you know-” Amity grasped for any words that would make this scrutiny disappear. Luz simply raised an eyebrow.

“Did you say you had to meet with Principal Bump…” Luz started and Amity felt her heart lodge itself somewhere in the pit of her stomach.

Luz suddenly shook her head, “You know what, nevermind! It doesn’t matter. What matters is, you dropped this.” Luz pulled out a folded piece of paper, moving into Amity’s space even more now.

Amity took the offered paper and while she unfolded it, she couldn’t help but be reminded of the time Grometheus the Fearbringer had taken her most cherished note and ripped it to pieces right in front of her. The paper, when unfolded, revealed her most recent self-indulgent drawing – a picture of Luz in a black hat and matching black robe standing arm-in-arm with a poorer rendition of herself in a huge blue gown and sparkling tiara. Amity was sure her face would explode with the amount of blood that rushed to it in that moment.

“Luz- I – I can explain-” she began to stutter, her hands gripping the paper tightly. Her vision started to blur just a little and she had the horrifying realization that she might just start to cry. How could she have let this happen? Why in the world would she keep this in her bag? Why hadn’t she realized –

“I think it’s some of your best work,” Luz’s voice derailed her bleak train of thought.

“Wait… what?” Amity’s eyes snapped up to look at the human girl in from of her. Her brown eyes twinkled warmly in the dimly lit room.

“Yep! But, I have to say I don’t quite agree with your characterization,” Luz said matter-of-factly.

“Oh,” was all Amity could manage. Her stomach dropped again and she readied herself for the rejection that was surely coming her way. It would be okay, at least Luz seemed like she would still be her friend, and that’s really all she needed anyway. As long as their friendship was still intact, she could handle this, even if it hurt.

Luz pulled out another sheet of paper. “Yeah, as much as I hate to admit it, I really don’t think I’m Elphaba, the most powerful witch in all of Oz,” Luz placed the second paper over the one Amity had been holding to reveal a new, unfamiliar drawing. Two figures faced each other in a somewhat reverent post, hands clasped between them as they stared at each other. This time, Amity was clearly drawn as Elphaba, her green hair poking through the black witch’s hat, her black robe billowing dramatically in what was clearly supposed to be the wind. Across from her was-

“I’m clearly the Fiyero to your Elphaba,” Luz finished, gesturing to her likeness which was dressed in green suspenders and button up with a scarecrow hat upon her head.

“You… think that I’m Elphaba?” Amity asked incredulously. It was not even the most important question to be asking in that moment, but it was the only one her mouth and brain seemed capable of producing together. She was holding a drawing… that Luz had made… of her. Of them together. Oh.

“Well, yeah, it’s that obvious? I mean, you’re a powerful witch, she’s a powerful witch. You both have that cute, goth look going on for you. Plus, she cares about fairness and I know you like to pretend to be indifferent, but I know you secretly care a lot about those things, too.”

Amity continued to stare at the picture, afraid to look away. Her brain continued to short circuit. Did Luz just call her cute?! “And you’re…”

“Fiyero, yeah! I mean, he is kind of her fearless champion and all that. Plus ‘maybe I’m brainless, maybe I’m wise…’ you know, it took him a while to figure it all out, too.”

Amity’s eyes snapped up from the drawing at this. Was Luz saying… what she thought she was saying? Luz smiled and in a perfectly Luz way, continued on a different train of thought.

“Anyway, I took some artistic liberties with the outfit. I liked the suspender outfit better, but thought the hat really tied it all-”

“Luz,” Amity interrupted. “Luz, it’s perfect. Thank you.” Before Amity fully gave her body permission to, she threw her arms around Luz and squeezed her tightly. Luz hugged her back without hesitation, a rumble of a laugh coming from her chest.

“That’s what girlfriends do,” Luz said quietly. Amity pulled back suddenly, still maintaining contact with her hands grasping Luz’s forearms.

“I mean – only if that’s what you want, of course. I didn’t mean to assume, I just meant-” Luz’s face went through about several different emotions so quickly, Amity couldn’t help but double over in a hearty laugh. All the pressure and uncertainly she had been feeling melted away, leaving her feeling like she was light and airy.

“Sorry, it’s just-” Amity tried to reel in her mirth and catch her breath, forcing words out, “-I’ve been trying to tell you all this for the past year and today you just… show up and call me your girlfriend. It’s just so… you, Luz.” Luz grinned self-consciously, blushing for the first time since Amity had entered her secret hideaway.

They stared at each other, this newfound revelation hovering between them, it’s own little spell casting them in silence. Amity was suddenly aware of her heart pounding in her chest again as she watched Luz take a step forward towards her. “Can I…?” Luz asked, in the same soft tone she had used that night in the woods when she had offered to take the weight of Grom off Amity’s shoulders.

Amity nodded slowly as she followed, leaning in to close the gap very slowly, her eyes fluttering as they closed. This was magical, she couldn’t believe she was here, with Luz, and Luz liked her back and they were about to-

“OOOOOH, Mittens in busted!”

All at once, bright light and noise crashed into the room from behind Amity as Ed’s voice broke through he enchanting atmosphere she and Luz had created for themselves. The jarring burst of their bubble caused Amity to jump forward, feet tripping over Luz’s and causing them both to topple to the floor. She landed on top of Luz, her head bumping Luz’s as she did so. “Ow – Luz! I’m so sorry!” Amity exclaimed, rubbing her forehead with one hand while she tried to push herself up with the other.

Luz let out a gasp of breath, “It’s ok! I’m good,” she said as she sat up on her elbows. She raised an eyebrow as she added, “Though I do believe you’ve fallen for me, Blight.” A cheesy grin spread on Luz’s face.

Before Amity had time to respond to that, she heard the sniggers of Em and Ed, still standing in the doorway. She shot up and whirled around on them. She really did need to find a new hideaway, didn’t she?

“YOU TWO, why are you here?! Get out!” She wished she could summon a fire spell without the fear of burning down the whole ancient library.

Emira walked past her and offered a hand to Luz, who was still on the ground. “Now, Mittens, is that anyway to treat your new girlfriend?” Edric for his part threw an arm around Amity’s shoulders and ruffled her hair. “Would we really be good siblings if we didn’t come check on you? After all, you were looking so sour after school! We were worried!”

“Yeah, but it looks like Luz beat us to it! Who knew the human had game,” Emira said, throwing an arm around Luz and giving her a wink. Luz’s cheeks turned pinker than Amity had ever seen them. She glowered at her sister and shoved her brother’s arm off.

“Get. Out. Now. Or I swear, I am going to summon the world’s biggest abomination to kick your-”

“Alright, alright, we’ll give you two love birds a few minutes. But mom really does want us home soon, Mittens,” Emira said, surprising Amity. She and Edric headed towards the doorway again, laughing together as they went. At the door, Ed shouted over his should, “Just remember to save room for-”

Amity took the nearest book she could find and threw it after him. He dodged gleefully and disappeared around the corner. She turned back to see Luz trying to hide her laughter behind her hand. She wasn’t doing a very good job, but the sight made some of Amity’s annoyance fade away.

“You know, I really should be getting back to Eda’s… King gets grumpy when I don’t come home and give him tummy scritches and Eda will probably be worried since I wasn’t at school to get picked up. I’m surprised they haven’t sent a search party out yet…” Luz said apologetically.

Amity sighed, but nodded. “Yeah, I really should get back home, too.”

Luz shifted her bag back over her shoulder, bouncing from one foot to another. “So… I’ll see you tomorrow at school? Maybe afterwards, we can do some Azura Book Club stuff?”

Amity felt herself brighten at the invitation. “Yeah, that sounds grood. I mean, good, uh great! That sounds great!”

“Okay, it’s a date,” Luz said happily. Then she moved forward and wrapped Amity into a big, squeezing hug, practically lifting her feet off the ground in the process. As she set her down and moved back, Amity felt the unmistakable feeling of Luz’s lips brushing against her cheek. The warmth of the contact spread until her whole face was on fire. Luz looked at her and smiled bashfully. “See you tomorrow, Blight,” and with that, she made her way out the door.

Amity stood there, frozen to the spot, her hand coming up to touch her cheek, as if she could catch the sensation before it fluttered away. Wow.

The moment was broken when, 5 seconds later, Luz came rushing back in.

“I almost forgot!” she said as she snatched up the drawings that had been scattered to the floor. She shook the one that Amity had drawn. “Can I keep this? It’s really good!”

Maybe it was the casual compliment or lingering effects of Luz calling her her girlfriend – her girlfriend – or just the adorable way Luz’s face just looked so genuine, but Amity experienced an unexpected surge of confidence. Before she could overthink it, she stepped forward, took hold of front of Luz’s school uniform, and pulled her into a kiss. It was a quick kiss – short, soft, and sweet. But when she pulled back, she felt satisfied to see Luz sufficiently dumbstruck, eyes widened and cheek turning pink.

“Yes. But only if I get to keep yours,” Amity said, plucking the other sketch out of Luz’s hand. Luz blinked slowly.

“Yeah, you can kave it. Keep it. You can have it!” Luz stuttered out her reply.

Amity grabbed her things, slipping the picture carefully into a book before putting it into her bag. She walked over to the doorway before turning back to Luz. “Coming?”

Luz nodded, following her out. They walked hand in hand out of the library and for once, Amity found it easy to ignore the twin’s teasing.

[letterboxd]

Pride: 25 Queer Films To Love.

Dating Amber writer and director David Freyne introduces our London correspondent Ella Kemp to 25 of his favorite LGBTQIA films.

A coming-out, coming-of-age film, David Freyne’s Dating Amber follows “baby gays” Eddie (Fionn O’Shea) and Amber (Lola Petticrew), who act as each other’s beards in order to stop speculation about their sexualities. Released on Amazon Prime Video in the UK for Pride month, it’s winning praise from Letterboxd members as a “charming” and “gentle” comedy-drama “full of loveliness that extends beyond the Irish accents”.

Lola Petticrew and Fionn O’Shea as Amber and Eddie in ‘Dating Amber’.

As the number of films by and about the gay and trans community expands, we asked Freyne if he could narrow down a list of ten favorites for us. The answer was no—instead, we got 25!

“There are so many extraordinary queer films beyond this list, but all of these films just really affected me when I saw them. Some were the first time I saw queerness on screen, while I deeply identified with others. And, as a filmmaker, each of them makes me braver to fight to tell stories that aren't always easy to get made.

“They are in no particular order because I don’t want to bump into Barry Jenkins (which is obviously going to happen) and have to explain that he is number five on that list (that he will definitely read) for no specific reason. It’s just a technicality.”

David Freyne’s 25 Favorite LGBTQIA+ Films

My Summer of Love (2004) Directed by Paweł Pawlikowski

Paweł Pawlikowski’s film feels like a dream that sweeps you up along with it, helped along by incredible early performances from Natalie Press and Emily Blunt. The hypnotic use of Goldfrapp's ‘Lovely Head’ is probably my favorite use of a song in any film ever. Their drug-fuelled dancing was a massive inspiration for Eddie and Amber’s baby steps into Dublin’s gay scene in Dating Amber.

Weekend (2011) Directed by Andrew Haigh

I never fail to cry buckets at the end of this heartbreaking gem. It’s small in the best sense of the word. Two people fall in love over one intimate weekend. Their gayness is both incidental and totally fundamental. It’s so delicate and moving. Andrew Haigh is a master.

But I’m a Cheerleader (1999) Directed by Jamie Babbit

Jamie Babbit’s debut is a brilliant, campy comedy about a cheerleader sent to a conversion therapy camp. I love it for all the reasons many critics (at the time) disliked it. It is subversive, quirky and defiantly upbeat. And it stars Natasha Lyonne and Clea Duvall. Enough said.

Paris is Burning (1990) Directed by Jennie Livingston

I’m not saying anything new when I say that Paris is Burning is necessary viewing. It’s a hilarious, moving and eye-opening look at the (mostly) Black trans women in New York’s ball scene. It is a glimpse into the lives of these extraordinary people who risked everything to live authentically, for themselves and each other. And at a time when our trans family is so under attack, it is vital to see such iconic figures from our community. You’ve probably seen it. Re-watch it. Also those end notes will make you cry.

Happy Together (1997) Directed by Wong Kar-wai

As with all Wong Kar-wai’s work, it is jaw-droppingly gorgeous. It’s a tough watch, a portrait of a toxic, failing relationship. But it looks beautiful. They’re miserable and co-dependent. It’s abusive and awful. But it’s great. It really is a great film. I’m not selling this one well. Just watch it.

Moonlight (2016) Directed by Barry Jenkins

Definitely worth watching after Happy Together. Not just because it will make you feel better, but because Barry Jenkins has noted it as a big influence. Also, Moonlight is a masterpiece. You know that, of course. Side note: I realize I’ll never be able to create a hand-job scene as powerful and tender as Jenkins did here, but, in Dating Amber, I made three comedy hand-jobs. Take that Jenkins!

God’s Own Country (2017) Directed by Francis Lee

You can feel Francis Lee in every frame of this film. It’s personal filmmaking at its very best, with wonderful performances from Josh O’Connor and Alec Secăreanu. And it has the most beautifully romantic ending that you only realize we lack for LGBTQ characters when you see it laid out so wonderfully. When we were trying to finance Dating Amber and people suggested it was too Irish, I’d just reference God’s Own Country, which is so defiantly Yorkshire, and they’d shut up. Also, Secăreanu’s jumper with a thumb hole is my style icon. Bring on Ammonite!

Can You Ever Forgive Me? (2018) Directed by Marielle Heller

Marielle Heller is such a brilliant filmmaker. This film is based on the memoir by Lee Israel who forged letters by famous people to sell. It’s a genre piece that feels like it could have been made in the 70s. But what I love about it the most is that it is a rare example of a film that centers the friendship between a lesbian and a gay man. Why do films usually treat us like we exist in totally separate worlds? Anyway, it’s a joyous watch.

Tangerine (2015) Directed by Sean Baker

I’m obsessed with tightly plotted films and Tangerine doesn’t waste a frame. It’s 88 minutes of pure wit, charm and entertainment in line with the best of old-school Hollywood. You instantly forget that Baker’s film is shot on an iPhone and just get swept up in the extraordinary performances of Mya Taylor and Kitana Kiki Rodriguez. It’s such a mystery they don’t work more. (Reader: it’s not a mystery. It’s because they are Black trans women, and the industry is shit.)

Portrait of a Lady On Fire (2019) Directed by Céline Sciamma

We all bow at the alter of Céline Sciamma. This film is perfection. The sparse-but-powerful use of music, exquisite photography and extraordinary performances that burn beneath the stillness. The final shots of Adèle Haenel will feed your soul for a year. (Side note: face masks have never looked so stylish.)

Sunday Bloody Sunday (1971) Directed by John Schlesinger

This was John Schlesinger’s follow up to his best-known film, Midnight Cowboy. A middle-aged gay doctor (Peter Finch), and a divorced woman (Glenda Jackson), are both in an open love triangle with a younger, bisexual sculptor (Murray Head). It’s quite low-key and far tamer now than when it was released, but it’s a beautiful film and Schlesinger’s most personal. He was one of the few openly gay directors of his time. And Jackson’s performance steals it.

Far From Heaven (2002) Directed by Todd Haynes

Todd Haynes’ stunning film will make you immediately go out and discover all of Douglas Sirk’s glorious technicolor melodramas. Julianne Moore’s performance as a wife who discovers her husband is gay will break you. Dennis Quaid is also terrific as her closeted husband.

The Watermelon Woman (1996) Directed by Cheryl Dunye

Cheryl Dunye’s low-budget debut is a seminal queer film. A video store worker and documentarian (played by Dunye) starts a new relationship while becoming obsessed with ‘the watermelon woman’, a Black actress forgotten by history. It’s lo-fi, funny and a, far too rare, film about race and sexuality.

My Beautiful Laundrette (1985) Directed by Stephen Frears

It may have been the first time I saw gay characters on screen and, at the time, it petrified me. But what an amazing film about love, acceptance and the power to change. Fun fact: Daniel Day-Lewis spent a year as a tumble dryer in preparation for his role.

Beautiful Thing (1996) Directed by Hettie MacDonald

Hettie MacDonald’s coming-of-age film is so lovely, honest and tender. James Harvey adapted it from his own play of the same name. The soundtrack is almost entirely The Mamas and the Papas. I am surprised some cigar-smoking West-End mogul hasn’t attempted a musical adaptation. Or maybe they have, I don’t know.

Pride (2014) Directed by Matthew Warchus

Such a purely entertaining film while being urgent, political and deeply moving. Beresford’s script is a masterclass in plotting and if you don’t cry at the end then you are dead inside. Sorry but that’s just science. Also it has the most emotional postscript coda since, well, Paris is Burning.

Love is Strange (2014) Directed by Ira Sachs

Ira Sachs is one of my favorite current filmmakers and criminally underrated. I mean, he’s appreciated, but he needs to be lauded. Love is Strange is such a charming and quietly devastating love story about an older gay couple who lose their apartment and have to couch surf with relatives. It’s one of the most effective films in dealing with the rental crisis in big cities, something he does equally brilliantly in the follow-up, Little Men.

A Fantastic Woman (2017) Directed by Sebastián Lelio

Sebastián Lelio’s film is a beautiful story about one trans woman’s grief after the unexpected death of her older partner. But what makes this film so spectacular is the captivating performance by Daniela Vega. We need to see more of her on screen.

BPM (Beats per Minute) (2017) Directed by Robin Campillo

It’s a film about the AIDS activism of Act Up in 1990s Paris. What makes this so incredible is how joyous it is. Strobe-doused dance scenes punctuate this film that will make you want to take to the streets and fight for your rights.

The Queen of Ireland (2015) Directed by Conor Horgan

This documentary by Conor Horgan follows Ireland’s most famous drag queen, Panti Bliss (aka Rory O’Neill). It’s about his life, a legal battle (a bunch of homophobes sued Rory for calling them homophobes on national TV) and the staging of a show in his hometown. Central to all this is Ireland’s historic vote on marriage equality, something that Panti was a powerful figure in. If you want to laugh and have your heart soar in seeing confirmation of how a once painfully conservative country moved to love and equality, watch this.

The Kids Are All Right (2010) Directed by Lisa Cholodenko

Lisa Cholodenko’s feature is a warm, witty and realistic look at a lesbian couple and their children. Every performance is pitch perfect. I can’t believe it’s a decade old and that we have had so few similar films since.

Booksmart (2019) Directed by Olivia Wilde

We need more joyous films with queer leads and Olivia Wilde’s debut is just that. Set over one night of belated partying, we follow best friends Molly and Amy (Beanie Feldstein and Kaitlyn Dever), one of whom happens to be a lesbian. It is just so much fun to watch.

All About My Mother (1999) Directed by Pedro Almodóvar

I mean this list could just be an Almodóvar filmography, but All About My Mother just happened to be the first of his I saw and it blew my little gay mind. It’s simply about love in its truest sense. Almodóvar said it best with his dedication, “To all actresses who have played actresses. To all women who act. To men who act and become women. To all the people who want to be mothers. To my mother.”

Female Trouble (1974) Directed by John Waters

You can’t have a queer film list without John Waters, and this 1974 classic is my favorite of his. It follows Dawn Davenport (played by the legendary Divine) from teen delinquent to the electric chair. It’s hilarious, irreverent and distasteful in the ways only Waters can be.

Saint Maud (2019) Directed by Rose Glass

Rose Glass’s debut film isn’t out yet and so technically shouldn’t be on the list. But I saw at a festival last year and loved it, so there. It’s a horror film about a private nurse (rising star Morfydd Clark) who tries to save the soul of her deviant and lesbian patient (the always-brilliant Jennifer Ehle). It’s eerie, stylish and the sort of debut all us filmmakers wish we had. Shut up, you’re jealous!

Related content

MundoF’s Opening the Vault: a chronological history of queer interest and LGBTQ+ cinema.

Leonora’s list of Films by Transgender Writers and Directors.

Out of the Closets and Into the Cinemas!: meeting queer folks in dark rooms.

New Queer Cinema

Queer Films Everyone Must See

Queer, Black, 21st Century: A Pride 2020 List

Autostraddle’s Top 200 Lesbian, Bisexual & Queer Movies of All Time

Brianna’s list of LGBT+ Animation

[xiolaperry]

The Piano - Chapter 8

Summary: Belle French and her daughter arrive in New Zealand to an arranged marriage with Gaston LeGume.  Gaston shows little interest in her or her piano and books. However, Mr. Gold is fascinated… (Rumbelling of the 1993 film “The Piano”)

Rating: E (for smut, dark subject matter and violence)

Also available on AO3

-

When Gaston came home and saw the piano, he was furious.

“What is this doing here?”

Belle did not acknowledge him.

“Answer me!” He grabbed a pile of books from the table and threw them to the ground in a rage. Belle's hands clenched into fists at the sight of them on the floor.

“Mr. Gold has given it back,” said Tilly, coming to her mother's rescue.

“You will not ruin this land deal for me.” He shook his finger in Belle's face. Without waiting for a response, he stormed out, almost ripping the door off its hinges.

What would people think if Gold took that land back? They'd say Gold tricked him, and he'd look foolish. He’d already started fences to mark the boundary! If Belle had worked some kind of deal behind his back, he didn't know what he'd do to her. She'd regret it.

“Gold!” he yelled, pounding on the door. “I know you're in there!” There was no reply. He barged in.

The sight of Gold sitting at the table, his head resting on his arms, stopped him in his tracks. Gold was never disheveled or caught in a vulnerable position. Some of Gaston’s anger dissipated from the surprise.

“Are you sick?”

“Something like that.”

“Listen, Gold. You're not going to weasel your way out of this agreement. The land is mine. If Belle isn't doing a good enough job teaching you, we can figure something else out.”

Gold raised his head. “I don't want to learn anymore.”

“What about our deal? I can't afford the piano if you expect me to pay for it.”

“No payment. I've given it back.”

“But I don’t need a piano.”

“I'm not giving it to you, dearie. I'm giving it to your wife.” Idiot.

“Oh. I see.” He didn't. He was more confused than ever. Since when did Gold give anybody anything? “I'm sure she'll appreciate it.”

The whiskey bottle caught Gaston's eye. Only an inch of amber liquid remained at the bottom. “Wait a minute. Are you drunk? This still counts, even if you're drunk.”

Gold's head hurt. He could endure this conversation no longer.

“Leave before I change my mind.” He would do no such thing, but Gaston didn't know that. He put his head back down. The door creaked open and then closed again. Footsteps went down the porch steps. Blessed silence. Until the hinges groaned again.

“Gaston, I told you to get out.”

“I'm not Gaston.”

Someone else was here. Wonderful. It took significant effort to lean back and open his eyes. “What do you want?”

Granny stood before him, hands on her hips. “I saw your face when you left last night.”

“And?”

“I don't think I've ever seen you look so distressed. Not even when you lost your top hat to Kamira in a card game.”

“Indigestion. That's all it was.”

“The piano's gone.” Granny swept her arm to the empty spot in the room.

“How observant of you.”

“Where are your manners, Gold? Aren't you going to invite an old woman to sit down?”

“I would if I wanted you to stay. But I don't.”

She sat down anyway.

“Is everyone being deliberately dense today? I obviously don't want visitors. I'm quite busy. This whiskey isn't going to finish itself.” He poured the rest into his cup with a flourish.

Granny sighed. “I saw Gaston Legume leave. He looked very pleased with himself. You gave that piano back and let him keep the acreage, didn’t you? You have feelings for that woman, Belle. You're smarter than this. Snap out of it. This can only end badly.”

“If I wanted your opinion, I'd ask for it.” His tone went from antagonistic to defeated. “And it has ended. It's over. Done. Like this conversation.”

Her face softened. She reached out and touched his hand. “Gold, I'm worried about you.”

“That's it. I'm going to bed.” He downed the rest of the whiskey and staggered to his feet, his grip on his cane the only thing keeping him from falling over. Granny helped him to the bed. She took off his shoes and covered him with a blanket. Gold muttered something unintelligible. She doubted it was complimentary.

“Sleep it off, you grumpy old bastard. You'll feel better when you wake up.”

---

Pleased that everything had worked out so well, Gaston whistled as he strolled back to the house. Looking like a fool was his biggest fear, and now the opposite happened. He got to keep the land and his odd wife had her piano back without cost or inconvenience to himself. It couldn't have turned out better if he had planned the entire thing.

He remembered holding Belle's hand at the play. The experience wasn’t terrible. Maybe she was warming up to him? Perhaps everything would work out with her too. He knew he'd be good at this husband thing.

Gaston entered the house. Belle was stroking the piano keys with an expression on her face that he didn’t understand.

“Everything all right with it?” he asked. “Why don't you play something?”

Belle stepped back from the piano and gestured to Tilly to take her place. She was reluctant to perform for the man who traded what she held dear with no thought to her feelings. Not to mention how angry Gaston had been just a short time ago, yelling and throwing things. People who threw books were not to be trusted. Now he was acting as though nothing happened.

“What shall I play?” asked Tilly, pleased to be the center of attention.

“Something fun.”

Tilly played an upbeat tune. “Would you like me to sing along?”

“Yes, that would be nice. At least someone is happy.”

After listening for a few seconds, Belle walked out of the house. There was a jumble of emotions inside of her: confusion with Gold, irritation with Gaston and her marriage. What did it all mean? She should be happy. Mr. Gold returned her precious things to her, no more bartering for black keys.

Attempting to analyze what happened that afternoon, Belle replayed the event in her mind. He'd said, “I've had enough.” Initially, she’d taken that as rejection. He was bored with her and didn't want her anymore. But then he said he wanted her to care for him. The self-loathing in his voice when he said he would turn her into a whore, that he would be a monster. Mr. Gold thought she had rejected him. He was letting her go because he cared for her.

Her mind spun and circled, overwrought. She wrapped her arms around herself and paced.

Gaston watched her from the window.

“Why won't she play? She gets the thing back after being so upset about losing it. Now she just wanders off.” He shook his head. “Women. They make no sense.” They ought to be celebrating. It wasn’t every day that someone bested Gold, and he couldn’t wait to boast about it.

Tilly shrugged and kept playing. Her mother wasn't making any sense to her either.

Her mother's strange mood continued the next morning. Tilly dressed in her costume and wings to get her attention. Why was her mother ignoring her? It was simple: Mr. Gold gave back the piano and books. Mama should be happy. She should be smiling and asking her what she wanted for breakfast. Her child's mind could not see her mother's distraction as anything other than an insult to her.

Gaston noticed she was wearing her costume from the play. Still in a pleasant mood from the day before, he told her how pretty she looked in it as he was leaving. What would Mama do if she started calling Gaston 'Papa'? That might get her attention.

Belle had not spoiled Tilly, but their relationship was unique, symbiotic in nature. Being her mother's voice had altered the normal mother/daughter dynamic. Maurice had loved his granddaughter, but there was always distance – she was a tangible reminder of his daughter's shame. Belle and Tilly had been the center of each other's world. Any rival to her mother’s affections would be met with jealousy.

Belle tried to play her piano, but she kept having to stop. It wasn't the same without Gold. She tried to read a book. He was in her mind and would not leave. She could not endure this. “Do the brave thing, and bravery will follow.” That's what it said in 'Her Handsome Hero.' It was good advice, and she would take it. She would be brave and go to him.

She told Tilly to wash the dishes and read her lessons. Her daughter could not accompany her today. Hurrying, she rushed to fix her hair and lace her boots.

Even though she was instructed to stay behind, Tilly followed her outside. “Wait for me! I want to come too.” She grabbed Belle's skirt.

Belle turned and snatched her skirt back, impatient to be going now that she had decided on a course of action. She signed, “No. Go inside and don’t follow me. I’m not sure how long I’ll be gone.”

Tilly stamped her foot, outraged. Accompanying her mother had never been denied to her. “Why not? Why can't I?”

Belle took a deep breath, trying to be patient, but she had to leave before she lost her nerve. “You will listen to me. Go into the house. Now.” Her movements were sharp, irritated.

Tilly ran back in the house, angry tears in her eyes.

[hadestownmodern]

dont have sex u will get pregnant and get made fun of by persephone

Hi guys! @dilforpheus here! I want to preface that the first segment of this was written before the banter on Instagram, but once I saw it I had to incorporate it. There is one final segment with WAY too many spoilers to share yet! 

This friendship/semi maternal relationship between Eurydice and Persephone is arguably my favorite in the ENTIRE modern au. 

The exams were passed back with no particular ceremony. Just Persephone turning them over on Student’s desks, curling writing on the front projecting a number as to how well a student did. Eurydice wasn’t particularly paying attention. She didn’t sleep much the night before and her back was absolutely killing her. She wasn’t even sure how she was going to make it through the next fifty-seven minutes of Persephone lecturing her on social structure in some specific midwestern town and the obscure sociological study that was performed on middle schoolers in the region. 

Eurydice barely notices when Persephone puts her returned exam in front of her, and most certainly misses the smirk on her features as she hands back the papers. Eurydice flips it over to see her grade- 87, adequate- before flipping through the exam to see what she missed. She notices that one corner is bumpier than the other, and flips to see what is interrupting the pages. 

There, staples to the corner of her exam, is a single condom. Not much use now that there is a staple through the middle. In persephone’s swirling cursive is written  

“You, like the girls in this study, could benefit from these -Seph”

Dumbfounded, Eurydice looked up to see Persephone smirking at her as she returned to her laptop in the front of the room .

“Are you fucking with me, Stephanie?” Eurydice mumbled, turning the paper to look at Persephone. “Jokes on you, i’m allergic to latex.” She quips, disregarding the fact she was fully in class in front of people she didn’t know. Fuck ‘em, she’d never see them again after this semester anyway. Persephone was going to be in her life forever. 

“Excellent point. I’ll remember that for next time.”

They ignore the gaping looks of her classmates, and the murmured whispers as Persephone goes back to teaching and beginning the new unit. 

“What did she just call her?” “Did she lowkey call Eurydice a whore?”  

It’s halfway through class, not even a full 30 minutes into the lecture when Eurydice is grasping the edge of the desk so tightly her knuckles were white. Her breathing is labored, but only enough that a trained eye would see. She isn’t even taking notes as Persephone tosses a keyring at her. “Get out of here, you look like shit.”

Persephone is erasing the board before Eurydice can process it, grasping the key ring in her fingers. 

“No, i’m staying. I have to learn this eventually before you give me an 87 again”  

Persephone rolls her eyes before shutting her laptop. “Fine. Class is over.” 

Noone else in the class argues as they quickly pack up their things and scramble out of the classroom, short “bye” and “have a good weekends” pour out of their mouths as Persephone watches them go. She sits at the now empty desk beside Eurydice and runs a hand over her hair. “Is it your back again… Orpheus told me it’s been bothering you recently.”

Eurydice only nods, letting out a shaky breath. ‘You didn’t need to end class-”

“Well you weren’t leaving, and you were distracting me. I was afraid you were gonna pass out right here.”

Eurydice laughs half heartedly, and starts to put her stuff in her bag. “Thank you, Perstephanie.”

Persephone put an arm around her shoulder and rubbed her shoulder. “You know, if you used a condom, you wouldn’t be having this problem.”

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

“Are you fucking serious right now?” Eurydice pulled out the tissue paper, pulling a single box of condoms out. Attached was a note, in Persephone’s flourished cursive.

“So next birthday you don’t have to be pregnant -Seph. P.s. the real present is a vacation where you can put these into use. “

“I’m just saying, twenty two is way more fun when you don’t have feet you can’t see.” Persephone is on the other side of the bar, pouring herself an extra drink to toast to Eurydice, where she herself could not. “We could be drinking on the beach, but no, you drank two glasses of wine at my house and ended up in bed with my nephew.”

“Oh fuck off, You set me up for that-”

“EuRyDiCe! PeRsEpHonE!” Orpheus’ voice cracks from the other end of the bar at the same time a shot glass slips from his fingers and shatters on the ground. “What...whats going on? Why are you fighting?” 

His hazel eyes are wide as they flick between the two most important women in his life who are seemingly arguing over..a gift? Their impending child? “I thought you liked each other!”

Eurydice reached out and grabbed his hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “We do, Orpheus. We’re just messing around.”

“We do this in class all the time!” Persephone promised, squeezing his shoulder. “And you clearly didn’t listen when I taught you what safe sex was all those years ago. Maybe it’ll get through to her.”

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

There’s a gentle knock on the door that startles Eurydice, who pulls her eyes away from her daughter. A couple of hours old and she already seemed to shift the tilt of her world’s axis. She’s finally showered and in something comfortable when Orpheus stepped out to grab something to eat- namely, bring her fries from that diner down the street. She deserved it, dammit.  Eurydice looks up to see Persephone in the doorway, waving and smiling brightly.

“Hey sunshine, can I come in?” Persephone peaks in, genuine joy on her face as she watched Eurydice. So young, but in the short time she’s known her, she’s seen her grow into a completely different woman. “Everyone else will be here soon..Junie’s with my mom..but I wanted to see you.” Yes, she was overjoyed to see this baby that belonged to the boy she raised, but her priority was currently on the woman holding her. She wasn’t about to let her get overlooked in all the excitement of the baby. 

“Yeah, Yeah of course… I’m trying to get the hang of feeding her, but then she fell asleep. And they keep telling me to sleep when she does. But I can’t seem to stop looking at her…”

Persephone sat on the end of the bed, near Eurydice but not daring to crowd her personal space. “No, no I understand completely. I didn’t even put Junie down for about two weeks. Wouldn’t even let my mama hold her..” She rests her hand on Eurydice’s knee with a smile. “So a girl, huh? Does she have a name yet?

“Don’t act like you didn’t know.” Eurydice teased, running her finger over the baby’s nose with a lazy smile. “Your mother knows everything. But yes. I can’t believe it. I love her so much already, and I’ve barely known her three hours...we can’t name her. Nothing seems good enough..I’ve called her french fry for months now.”

“Even you’re starting to believe in her magic. That’s impressive. And a name will come to you. Well, My mother named Junie. No way in hell did my husband pick the name Juniper.”  Persephone watched the way Eurydice didn’t even look at her, unable to drag her eyes away from the tiny person she held in the crook of her arm. “How are you, honey. And don’t give me that fine, bullshit.”

“i...I’m so happy. I love her so much and I love Orpheus so much and- i’m so tired.” Eurydice admits, letting out a sigh. “I love her so much, and I can’t even describe how happy I am. But i’m tired and I didn’t realize how much pain i’d still be in.. and it’s like her gums are razor blades and I don’t think i’m every going to physically be capable of having sex again, not to mention why would Orpheus even want to and- I’m so tired but I can’t look away from her! I can’t put her down. She’s been apart of me for so long.”  She’s crying before she realizes it, warm tears running down her face. She hiccups as she feels the baby starting to move in her arms and almost cries harder. How was she supposed to do this if she was already exhausted?

Persephone is closer to her, tucking black curls behind her ear before wiping at her cheeks. “It’s okay, Eurydice, it’s okay. I understand. I really do. I felt guilty for being tired, for not being on top of the game all the time. I worked so hard to have her, how dare I be anything less than 100%.” She pulled her head to her chest, stroking Eurydice’s soft curls as she held her. Eurydice needed a mother, she needed a mother to care about her, and Persephone was more than glad to fill her part. “”I would take showers that were exactly three minutes long. And for 180 seconds I would sob. Because how dare I be anything less that grateful. But fuck, I just wanted a nap for more than two hours at a time. And to not feel like a cow. So I get it.” 

Persephone kisses the top of Eurydice’s head, feeling the girl’s body just shake as she cried into her. Of course she kept it in. Women were trained to think they could show nothing but joy that day, when in reality the emotional highs and lows came like the changing tide. “It’s okay. You’re going to be the best mom. You are allowed to feel things, Eurydice” She promises, allowing herself a glance down at the incredibly small little girl Eurydice was clutching as if her life depended on it. “She’s so beautiful already. Looks just like you…”

“She looks like a potato alien, you can say it!” Eurydice whined, hiding her face in Persephone’s shoulder. 

“Well..all babies do. But you ate so many fries what do you expect other than a potato?” It’s teasing, and light, and the way Perspehone lightens the mood. She won’t dare ask to hold the baby, not with the way Eurydice anchors herself by holding her. 

“I feel like I got punched in the stomach with at least six knives and then someone ripped out whatever balances my emotions. All that while feeling like a dairy cow mixed with the happiest person in the world.” Eurydice tries to describe, laughing just a little as she wiped her tears away. “I’m a mess.”

“Well, you know, all of that could have been prevented with a condom. Which, by the way-” She pulled out a card and handed it to her. “Heres one for safekeeping, remember it in six weeks.”

“You’re such an asshole sometimes.”

“I know.”

[mirkwoodshewolf]

Best gift of all, love; John Deacon x mute/deaf child reader (platonic)

*Author’*s note

Well guys I have yet another little Christmas gift for you all, this idea had been going around in my head for awhile now and I hope you all get fluffy Christmas/holiday feels with this one. Now in this fic as mentioned in the title you are deaf and mute so I am writing this as a non-deaf person so if there’s anything I might’ve incorrectly used PLEASE let me know so that I may make the edits necessary to fit the story, so not really any serious warnings except maybe jerky twin brothers, the word ‘handicapped’ is used, but overall some MAJOR DEACY FLUFF!!!

Taglist:

@psychosupernatural

@plethora-of-things

@waddles03

@ixchel-9275

@platawnic

@queendeakyy​

@geek-and-proud​

@simonedk​

@kairosfreddie​

___________________________________________________________

I was up in my room finally having some downtime from doing homework, and question who gives homework on Christmas? It’s just not right.  Anyways after finally getting it done, I can fully focus my attention to my gift for John Deacon.  Yep you heard right John Deacon of Queen, aka my mom’s boyfriend.

They met when Queen was touring America about two years ago when I was six years old.  My mom was their American techie and that’s how she and John hit it off. Because she was the only woman throughout the entire American team that could work the wires and know the difference between a closed and open circuit (whatever that means).

When she told us that her and John were dating, me and my twin brother Jensen were thrilled.  He was mostly thrilled at the fact that he could brag to his friends that his mom’s boyfriend was one of the members of Queen, I was just happy to have a father figure in my life because—well my real dad walked out on us when I was just 4 years.

The reason for him leaving was—well I’m not like other girls.  I was born mute and deaf.  It was hard for my dad because he thought it was just a phase, or that I was a birth defect out of my brother and I.  Not being able to take it, he just one night packed up and left, without even a goodbye.

It took mom awhile to trust guys again, but when she met John she started to loosen up a bit, especially when he took the time to learn sign language so that he could communicate with me.  So I figured this Christmas since he’s taken the time to try and communicate with me, I feel like I should communicate back to him, so I asked if I could have a few bass lessons with him.

He humbly gave me a few lessons and it was difficult because I couldn’t hear exactly what I was playing but if I had my foot against the AMP, I could feel the rhythm.  Plus I would turn to John every time and he’d either give me a wide, proud smile or sign off and adjust my fingers so that I could play the right key.

But he was patient with me and gave me a lesson whenever he had some downtime during rehearsals, or whenever he’d come over to visit us.

So here I was, practicing “Liar” which was one of my favorite songs because I could hear the bass shine throughout the song, especially on the solo.  I was sitting on the AMP John had gotten me for my birthday to practice with (that he also built from scratch might I add) so that I could feel what I was playing, when I felt something hit my head.

I looked down and saw a paper ball and when I looked at the door there stood my twin brother Jensen.

‘Why do you always do that?’ I signed.

“Cause it’s fun.” God I hated when he didn’t sign back to me, he knew that I struggled to read lips.

‘SIGN! You know I can’t read lips you idiot!’ he stuck his tongue at me before signing.

“What are you doing?” he said as he signed with an annoyed look on his face.

‘I’m practicing my present for John.’

“How exactly do you plan on doing that? You can’t hear.”

‘Just because I can’t hear doesn’t mean I can’t feel the rhythm. That’s why I’m sitting on the AMP he made me.’

“Yeah well I got a better gift for John.”

‘And just what are you doing for him?’

“Since he taught me about electronics, I’m making him a new AMP he can use. And a new AMP is way better than playing a song.” And with that he just walked away.  That’s typical Jensen for you, he always thinks he’s one step ahead just because he’s the normal one and I’m the freak of the family.

I continued to practice till mom came in and signed to me that it was time for dinner.  I put down my bass and followed her to the dinner table where the three of us sat down for some warm lasagna.

After dinner it was bath time and then into bed. Mom tucked me into bed and signed out.

‘Goodnight my world.’

‘Night mom. I love you.’

‘Love you too.’ She then kissed my forehead and turned off my lamp light before walking out my door.  I hugged the Japanese doll that Freddie had given me and soon fell fast asleep, and began to dream.

It was Christmas morning and I had my bass guitar ready to show John the song that I’ve been practicing really hard on.  I came to our living room and saw him with my brother. John was unwrapping his present and it revealed to be the AMP he was bragging about.

It looked absolutely flawless, like the ones John makes all the time.  And it seemed based off the wide smile on his face that he loved it.  I then started to grow nervous because if he loved Jensen’s gift so much, what would he think of mine?

“(Y/n), well don’t stand there all shy? What did you get me?” John spoke as he signed to me.  I gulped nervously and strapped my bass around my neck and walked up to him. I plugged the bass in and I signed.

‘I—I’ve been practicing really, really hard on this song. I—I hope you like it.’ I strummed a few notes and touched the AMP with my foot and I started playing the song.

However next thing I knew, I couldn’t feel the vibrations from the AMP anymore.  I grew scared as I tried to keep playing but since I couldn’t hear exactly what I was playing, or how I was playing it I trailed off and must’ve started playing something else.

All the while I just saw the disappointment on John’s face until finally he held his hand out which was a sign he used for me to stop playing.

“What was this?” he spoke as he signed.

‘I’m sorry John I…..I couldn’t feel the vibrations anymore. Did the AMP break?’

“No the AMP was fine. Nothing happened. It was just you. I thought I trained you better than that (y/n).”

‘I tried John really I did. I was just….’

“I don’t wanna hear it. This was the worst gift I could ever ask for. If only you could hear and not be a nuisance then I might have liked it.” What? No he—he would never say anything like that to me. Why was he saying this? “Guess I wasted my time teaching a handicapped how to play.”

Noooooo! He knows I hate that word. People always call me that and he knew how much it hurt. Why was he being mean? Why? Why! WHY!!!

I woke up in a sweat and felt my chest heaving. I looked around to still see that it was dark outside and that I was back in my bedroom.  Oh thank god it was only a dream. Or—was it? Could—could John really hate my gift to him?

I laid back down on my pillow and held onto my doll close to me and allowed a couple of tears to fall out.  Maybe I could think of something else for John, but what? Christmas was just 2 days away and there’s no way I could ask mom to go to the store to get something, and the only thing I can decorate is a card.

Guess I—need to think of something else to give John. I don’t want him to be disappointed in me and call me ‘handicapped’ again.

Soon enough it was Christmas eve and John was gonna come over tomorrow morning but tonight we were gonna watch him and Queen play at the Hammersmith Odeon theater live on TV.

“Okay kids, now that we’ve finished our dinner, are you both ready to watch Deacy and the others perform their Christmas concert?” mom both spoke and signed out.  

As I was watching my mom and brother speak back and forth between each other (god I wish I could read lips) it was then I felt my heart ache as I saw my brother sign.

“Wait mom, how is (y/n) gonna watch the concert if she can’t hear?” I saw Jensen sign with a smug look on his face as he looked right at me.  I saw mom spank him once on his bottom and she signed.

“She has as much right to watch it and enjoy watching them on TV. She doesn’t have to hear them.”

“But the point of a concert is to enjoy the music. And she can’t hear them. So she can’t watch it.”

“Alright that’s it. I’ve had it. You’re grounded Jensen.” I soon watched as my mom dragged Jensen by the ear and gestured for him to go upstairs.  I saw Jensen look at me with an angry face before he stormed up the stairs.  Mama came back and sat down beside me and signed.

‘Don’t listen to what your brother said.’

‘But he’s right mama. I don’t know what Queen sounds like, and since I can’t touch the television I won’t know what set they’re playing. Maybe I should just go to bed.’ As I started to get off the couch mama picked me up and placed me on her lap.

‘No lovie. You have just as much right to watch this concert. I know it would mean the world to John and your uncles if you did.’

‘But mom I won’t be able to hear the concert.’

‘I can sign it out to you if you’d like.’ Knowing that I could never win an argument with her, I nodded and told her I would stay and watch the concert.

And so she stood by the TV and as soon as the concert began to go on the air, she signed out everything for me. From the songs to Freddie’s speeches.  Then as Liar came on, she asked me just before the singing began.

‘You ready to give Deacy your present tomorrow morning?’ Yeah I didn’t tell her that I decided to change my mind about what to give John because I didn’t want to get into a debate with her.  So I just nodded to her and she smiled. ‘I’ve also been looking forward to hearing you play this song.’ It was then I saw her starting to sign the song to me.

And when John’s bass solo came on, I watched as the camera zoomed in on his skilled fingers. Pricking the strings as his left fingers lifted up and down on the first three fingers only doing that same 13-15th measure for the song that he once told me he did for this song. He then slide his fingers down the neck of the bass and the song continued.

The concert continued to go on with huge success as I watched the crowd mouth out lyrics to the songs and balloons bouncing up and down in the air as Freddie continued to dance around the stage in his own way while Brian played his guitar, Roger on the drums and John on the bass wearing that yellow hat of his.

As the credits were rolling, I grew tired and that’s when mom picked me up and took me to bed.  She tucked me in and she signed.

‘Did you enjoy the concert sweetie?’ I nodded.

‘It looked like fun.’ She smiled and tucked me into bed.

‘Alright sweetie better get some sleep before Santa clause comes. Otherwise he’ll just fly above our house in circles.’ We both smiled and that’s when I asked her.

‘Mom?’

‘Yes?’ she signed out.

‘Do—do you think for Christmas, Santa could give me the ability to hear?’ at that question mama just looked at me.

‘(Y/n) sweetie. That’s—that’s a big wish. Even for Santa.’

‘But I thought Santa could do anything. You said that good boys and girls are granted their deepest wishes by Santa, and that’s—all I really want for Christmas.’ She looked at me with sympathetic eyes before finally signing.

‘I’ll tell you what sweetheart. If that’s what you truly desire, then Santa’s gonna try his best to give you your wish. Now it may not come right away, but he’ll try his best to make it happen. Okay?’ I nodded.  She smiled and kissed me goodnight before tucking me in and turned out the light.

The next morning it was Christmas.  I opened my eyes but of course all I heard was silence. I solemnly sighed before getting out of bed and looked outside to see John’s car parked out front.  

Oh great, if I go down there he’ll—he’ll probably act like he did in my nightmare a few nights ago.

But if I don’t go down either him or mama will come up here and check on me and that’s something I don’t want to happen. Taking out John’s gift I quietly headed down the stairs.

But to my horror it was just like it was in my nightmare with Jensen on John’s lap showing him his newly designed AMP that he said he had made.  I hid in the corner and tried to be invisible so that John wouldn’t see me as I watched them interact with each other.

Just like in the nightmare, John seemed to be impressed by Jensen’s AMP but due to me not being able to hear I couldn’t understand what they were saying.  Suddenly John caught sight of me, I quickly ducked back into the corner of the stairs. It wasn’t until I saw John peek over and he grinned at me.

“I thought I saw you, what are you doing hiding here all by yourself?” he spoke as he signed to me.  I shrugged. “Is that for me?” he signed again as he gestured to his gift that I had behind my back.  I looked behind me then back to him and I presented it to him. ‘Thank you’. He signed.

As he slowly started to unwrap it, he paused and signed.

‘Your mum told me you both had a ladies night and watched the concert together. Did you enjoy it?’ I wanted to tell him I did but ow can someone enjoy something when they can’t even hear what’s going on? So I shrugged again.  John looked at me concerningly but chose not to push me.

Finally he unwrapped the gift to reveal the bass guitar my mom had gotten me when John first agreed to give me my bass lessons.

“Your bass. Do you wish for me to sign it?” he signed as he spoke. I shook my head no. “Okay well—did you want me to make any modifications to it? Is something wrong with it?” I shook my head again. “Then what is it love?” I looked down shamefully before feeling the tears coming.

I then quickly raced up the stairs and quickly shut the door and hid under the blankets and buried myself in them trying to hide as best I could.  It must’ve been a few moments later when I felt the dip on my bed and the blankets being lifted so that my head was free.  John’s eyes were filled with concern and worry.

‘What’s wrong poppet?’ he signed off.

‘Nothing.’

‘It didn’t look like nothing down there, you know you can tell me anything without me judging you right?’ I rubbed at my eyes trying to rid of the tears that refused to stop when I felt a gentle hand cup my chin forcing me to look up.  I then felt John’s calloused but gently fingers wipe away my tears.

He then leaned forward until his forehead rested against mine.  We stayed there for a minute till I finally gave in and moved from his forehead to his neck and buried myself into him.  I felt his arms gently surround me in a comforting embrace.  He allowed me to cry into his neck for as long as I needed and never once tried to rush me or make me feel insignificant.

Once I managed to calm down, he set me down in his lap and signed out.

‘Better?’

‘A little.’ The corner of his mouth turned up in a slight smile as he brushed and tucked my hair behind my ears.

‘Are you okay to tell me what all of this is about?’

‘Will you be mad if I tell you?’ he shook his head no and signed back to me.

‘You know there is absolutely nothing in this world that could ever make me mad at you.’ He stroked through my hair which always made me feel warm inside, especially when John did it.

‘I gave you my bass guitar because I want you to give it to someone else. Someone who is able to hear what it is they’re playing.’

‘(Y/n), why—why would you think that? You’re a wonderful bass player. You’re halfway to my speed with the lessons I’ve given you.’

‘But I can’t hear John! I’m deaf! What use do I have in playing an instrument that I can’t hear!? It’s like you said you wasted your time training a handicapped how to play.’ My gestures were frantic as I felt my chest clench in pure agony and heartbreak again, my vision flickering with tears once more.

It was during the middle of my rant that John took my hands in his and shook his head repeatedly.  Keeping both my hands in on hand and spelling repeatedly ‘no’ with the other, John kept his eyes locked with mine.

‘When did I ever say that?’

‘The other night, in a dream.’ He brushed aside my bangs from my forehead before planting a soft kiss right at the center of it.

‘(Y/n). It was nothing but a bad dream. A trick. I would never, ever, ever, ever call you that vile word or say that I wasted my time teaching you to play the bass.’

‘But how can I play when I can’t hear? Jensen says that what good am I to watching concerts or even learning how to play an instrument if I can’t hear?’ I saw him sigh and that’s when he told me.

‘Love, your brother he—he always seems to say what he wants to without thinking of the consequences of his words. I’ll be sure to set him straight. Because no brother should ever make their sister feel inferior just because of something that wasn’t in their control to have. Come here.’ He held his arms out and I leaned in against his chest.

If I could hear I probably would’ve heard his heartbeat since he made sure to adjust my head so that it was over on the left side of his chest.  He then tucked his finger under my chin so that I could look up at him again.  He wiped my tears away and signed off.

‘But my dear, please understand that you are a special fan of ours.’

‘Just because I’m deaf?’

‘No not because of that. It has nothing to do with you being deaf. Your specialness comes from how you view music. And how you view us.’

‘What do you mean?’ he stroked through my hair and smiled softly down at me.

‘Many people around the world see us in two ways; our looks, or our music. Most of our female fans just see us as four hot rockstars, mostly of them for Roger’s case.’ At that I couldn’t help but smile and laugh a little as did John. ‘And yes I say we do things that no other band has done with having all of us write the songs and not just one of us. But to someone like you, you feel us (y/n). Feel our music in a way that no one else can.’

‘How? It doesn’t make any sense.’

‘It may not now. When people hear our music they just hear all the different genres we try to put in. But you my dear, you feel every bit of the music that plays. From the rhythm that Roger and I do, to the melodies Brian and Fred perform. You feel it all. Every instrument, every beat, you feel it all. So in a way it’s a good thing that you can’t hear cause otherwise you’d just be like everyone else.’

‘But I’d still like to hear other things. Like Freddie’s singing, my mom’s voice, and your voice. Mummy always said you had an interesting accent compared to the others, and I always wanted to hear what it sounded like.’ He rubbed my back in circles and signed.

‘Just be thankful you’ll never hear my sing. Otherwise I would make you go deaf, it’s that terrible.’ I couldn’t help but giggle which made John smile. ‘Seems like your back to being that happy girl I love so much.’

‘Yeah. Thank you John.’

‘I’m always here for you poppet. No matter what.’ He then lightly bopped my nose which made me smile wider.  We sat there in comfortable silence as John proceeded to rock me back and forth when John told me. ‘Hey love?’ I looked up at him and signed.

‘Yes?’

‘Not to push you but I wanna know the truth. What was it you were really planning on doing with your bass before you chose to try and make me give it away?’ I got up out of his embrace and turned towards my AMP.

‘I—was actually gonna play you something.’

‘You were?’ I nodded. ‘Oh love that’s amazing. What song were you gonna do?’

‘L-I-A-R.’ I spelled out.

‘Liar, really? Wow that’s amazing. I would like to hear you play it, if that’s what you want.’ I debated long and hard as I looked between John and my AMP in the corner.

‘I’ll try.’

‘That’s all I ask of you poppet.’ He then grabbed my bass that he had put in the corner up and the two of us walked over to the AMP. He helped me turn it on and strummed the strings for me till the volume was just right for him.  Once he was done he nodded to me and I sat on top of the AMP so that I could feel the vibrations as he handed me my bass.

I breathed deeply and nervously looked towards John and he just looked at me with nothing but reassurance.

‘Just do your best. I’ll be proud no matter what.’ I adjusted my bass so that it sat in my lap and tried not to think back to my nightmare.

I felt the tune in my head before finally starting on the bass sections.  I tried my best to not think about the dream but since it was so similar to what happens, it started to effect my performance I just knew it.  It was then I saw John’s hand come over mine stopping me from picking the strings anymore.  I looked up and prepared for the exact speech he gave me in my dream.

‘You’re so tense love. Remember relax your arm against the bass and it’ll be easier to pick the strings.’ He signed.  I looked at him in awe.  He—he didn’t say that I was terrible, this—this wasn’t like my dream. This was real.

‘Sorry John.’

‘No need to apologize love. This is a hard song to try, you wanna start over or continue from where you left off?’

‘I can start over.’ He smiled and leaned back against my bed and I started over.  Gaining a little more confidence, I felt like I was playing with more passion and when I got to the solo I worked on my fingering along the neck to make sure I hit the three notes over and over again just like John did last night.

By the end of the song, I stopped and looked up at John and his expression was speechless.  Nervously I signed out.

‘How’d I do?’ he scooted up towards me and hugged me close.  He squeezed me tightly but not constricting and that’s when he signed to me.

‘You. Were. Amazing poppet. I mean there were some parts that were a little iffy but you did amazing. And the solo, I think if the boys heard you do that solo they’d replace me with you.’ I blushed and signed a thank you to him.  I took my bass off and ran up to him and the two of us hugged each other. ‘And thank you for giving me the greatest gift I ever gotten.’

‘I’m glad you loved it John. I wanted to do you proud.’

‘And you did poppet. I love you so much, and I’m so proud of you.’ I smiled and nuzzled myself into his chest while I felt him stroke down my hair.

[leejihoonownsmyheart]

Click, Click

Chapters: 1, 2, 3, 4 , 5 , 6 , 7, 8 , 9 , 10 , 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, 20, 21, 22

Chapter 23:

“Oh, thank god you guys are finally here,” Kwangsun exclaimed urgently rushing towards you and the group of club members parading behind you. You felt anxiety grip your heart at the words and you reached forward, grabbing Kwangsun’s wrist.

“What happened? What’s going wrong?”

Kwangsun looked at you for a moment, puzzlement in his eyes. You weren’t sure initially why that was his reaction because the urgency he had displayed was enough to get your heart racing. You knew that the performance was in a while, but still, there were so many things that could have gone wrong already- or could even go wrong in the time before the performance- that you couldn’t help but worry that there was already something that needed fixing. You were ready to hop right into your protective-leader mode, set aside your anxieties and fix whatever needed to be fixed, but Kwangsun’s next action cleared those thoughts right from your mind.

He just laughed light-heartedly and placed his hand gently over your hand.

“Nothing, nothing, I just missed you too much that was all,” Kwangsun assured softly. You gave him a quirk of the eyebrow, which only made him laugh. “Do you even know how cute you are?”

You felt your face warming up, so to distract yourself you brushed your hair behind your ear and choked out a small laugh. No one seemed to think the action was odd, you supposed that was a good thing, because you felt like your guilt at Kwangsun’s outward affections towards you (and your inability to return them) were pretty easy to read.

“Kwangsun, come on, we have a lot to get ready,” you said, trying your best to change the topic. He chuckled at your words and looked over his shoulder at one of your friends.

“You think she knows she’s even cuter when she gets all serious and stuff?” He asked. He put his elbow on their shoulder and slowly shook his head. “There’s nothing more admirable then a girl who isn’t afraid to speak her mind and get things done.”

This time you just ignored his words. Deciding that maybe if you did you could focus on what mattered the most right now. The performance. You walked around the small area, talking idly to the people already gathering there (a few of which you actually recognized) and getting the speaker system set up for the day.

Kwangsun didn’t stray from your side for even a second. While he placed a few comments here and there about how cute you were, and how much he enjoyed working alongside you he was more helpful than anything else.

Sure, you got a tad annoyed when he insisted you needed help to carry around a speaker, but you were stubborn enough to not let him help you with the next speaker you had to move. Sure it got you what you equated to be a bit of a lecture: “You have to be careful, it’s just that it’s heavy and you’re dancing today… You know it’s okay to ask for help right?”

Yeah, you knew you were dumb to be mad at him for just wanting to help you. You knew it was stupid to be mad because he cared about you, but you didn’t need him to care about you, and you didn’t want anyone to think that. It made you seem weaker, and you were not weak in anyway at all.

“Okay, guys, five minutes till we start!” You called, breaking up the slow practice that every one of your team members were doing.

You had always had this bad habit of practicing nervously before most of your performances, and as you walked through the dances, your group tended to join in forming a casual full group last- minute practice. It was a custom that your group was pretty used to, and a reality that Kwangsun couldn’t believe when he watched you guys start.

His group didn’t practice, and they seemed a lot more at ease then yours did. You wondered briefly if you guys tended to just put too much pressure on yourselves. After all you weren’t actually idols, and even if you were everyone always liked your performances so there was no need to be so hard on yourselves. But before you could think too much about it, you started to go to each of your members, just ensuring they were all okay for the performances.

You checked up on everyone one by one, and then once you had left the last member found Kwangsun looking at you from not far away. You smiled at him and brushed down the flannel you were wearing for you two’s duet. It was long; but the pants, and the crop top you were wearing were so tight and… Form-fitting that you just knew that you would be self-conscious throughout the entire performance. But you looked good in it, so you were letting the sensuality of it pass for the moment.

“You’re so… Caring,” Kwangsun mumbled. You laughed quizzically at him, letting your head fall to the side. “What?” You questioned.

“I mean you checked on everyone. Made sure everyone was okay. You’re always looking out for your friends; do you know how rare that is in a person?” Kwangsun asked. You rolled your eyes.

“It’s not rare,” you insisted. Kwangsun shook his head.

“It is rare. And on top of all of that, you always just let… What’s her name… Kaylin? Walk all over you.”

Kaylin had been just like usual. Trying to make a big deal out of everything. Your relationship these days was rocky at best, but you tried not to think about it too much. Except for when you were ranting with Caitlin and Julia about how crazy she drove all of you.

You guys had gone to film something not long ago, and it got brought up that the video was never edited. Kaylin said some bull about how the editing had been up to a volunteer basis in the past despite the fact that she was the only one who ever edited anything (minus a few times that she instructed someone else to do so) and that she had just assumed someone else was doing it. Then she mentioned the fact that she had the video the entire time because, how was anyone supposed to edit the video if she had it and her excuse for that was “I don’t know how, but no one told me that the sd card was in my camera.”

You… You were getting off track.

The facts were, Kaylin was always discouraging everyone, never took responsibility for anything that she did that was wrong, and always tried to pin the blame on you and your friends even though you were always scrambling about trying to fix the problems she had caused.

Luckily, recently it had been easier to avoid her- because she never talked to anyone when she was mad at them. So, she only passive-aggressively complained about your decisions around you these days, and then pretended you two were friends when it was convenient for her.

“Kaylin is… A complicated subject,” you murmured. “Anyways, are you ready to perform?”

Kwangsun didn’t look like he wanted to let the topic drop, but you gave him a reassuring smile and held out your hand and at that he just couldn’t help but smile and take your hand as well. You encouraged everyone to come together and smiled at them all.

“Okay, we’ve all worked hard, and now the only thing to do is to give the best show possible,” you said comfortingly. “Fighting everyone! Collab on three. One. Two.”

Everyone cheered three all at once and the crowd began to grow silent. Kwangsun kept a firm grip on your hand pulling you into the center of the stage for the night. You willed your nerves down to a minimum and stood next to him. You looked up at the person in charge of sound and gave him a quick thumbs up.

The suave music started to play, and instantly you started to walk along with the beat, falling in place right there next to Kwangsun. Luckily, all the practice you had done had prepared you to the point you didn’t really have to think too much about remembering the dance moves. After all you knew them, and at this point your body just did them on cue.

Your solo hit and as you danced and sang you made sure to focus on your facials as best as you could. This wasn’t the part of the dance that you worried about so it was easy to just relax and emote and sing the way you would if you were alone (despite the audience cheering as you dropped down- legs spread) as Kwangsun came back on stage.

It wasn’t until you briefly wandered offstage, right before the part that you were most worried about that you even had the chance to look at the audience. It wasn’t long. You recognized some people that you had seen at a couple of your busking events, all cheering for Kwangsun, you felt your part coming up and so just as you were about to go back out, you saw someone in all black towards the front- but before you could dwell you were strutting back on-stage.

You felt Kwangsun’s body moving fluidly against yours. You stepped, you spun, you guys dispersed and then before you knew it, you came back, your back brushing his chest. You pulled your arms across your chest, and his face drew close to yours, so close that you could feel his hot breath on your cheek. You didn’t think about it, and instead focused on your second solo.

It was a little more difficult than the first- not move wise but because you were practically touching yourself in front of a crowd. You still got through it as easy as you had the first one, but this time you didn’t dare look at the audience while you were briefly off-stage. You just watched Kwangsun move on the stage until it was time to do the chorus with him again.

You were thankful for the breather as you guys sang the part right before the dance break of the song, especially thankful for the minimal touching at this point. Even the dance break was okay, a few touches to your hips, and that area were fine. You were just glad you guys hadn’t decided to do Troublemaker, or worse Knock Knock by Nasty. Of course, you guys had done the breakdown from their 2013 MAMA performance. A lot more touching, required sharper movements and a little bit of grinding on your part but you weren’t worried when you heard how loud the audience got cheering for it.

Kwangsun wrapped his arm over your chest, and pulled your head close to his, pulling you to the side, just so that your lips couldn’t be seen by the crowd. You could tell by the look in Kwangsun’s eyes that he wanted to kiss you again. That he was using every fiber of his being to keep from placing his lips on yours.

Your heart was pounding a million miles an hour as the song came to a stop, and even still you forced a smile on your face. You looked out into the audience, scanning for the person that you hoped- No prayed wasn’t actually there. Still in the front, smiling and clapping for you, you saw a man in a dark hoodie, sunglasses, and a face mask.

You didn’t let your smile falter, but you still felt the dread spreading through you.

“And, now, the show can truly begin!” You exclaimed, breaking out from within Kwangsun’s arms. You could feel his eyes holding on to you as you wandered away from him, trying your best to put as much space between you two as possible.

“You know, your awful puns are one of the fondest things about you,” Kwangsun said with a laugh. It hit you like a pang in the heart, but still you smiled harder and laughed as if it didn’t hit as hard as it truly did. “Did Sunny really just compliment me?” You exclaimed, placing a hand on your heart. “I’m honored truly honored.”

“Not as honored as me and the rest of the boys are to be here with you guys!”

The thing with this performance was probably that the whole point was to be a collaboration between groups. While it was easy to seamlessly fit the few boys in your group along with the boys in Kwangsun’s group, it wasn’t so easy to fit the girls in while holding the integrity of dances that both boys and girls were comfortable doing. Some of the boys weren’t comfortable doing girl group dances, and it wasn’t hard to figure out that mixing the two groups would probably end badly for the girls dancing with the boys, as they could be overlooked if the boys did well enough.

To protect that integrity, you had come up with a small solution to the issue. Your two groups would do your own solo things, add in a few duos here and there, totaling up to six quick performances, and then you and Kwangsun would get into a debate on which group was liked the most. During this debate, you guys would decide to invoke a competition.

It would invoke boys versus girls, performing mashups of the various produce songs like that of a dance battle. This dance battle would get slightly sidetracked by a song that you both liked, that was a collaboration Kpop male and female idols had done before (Who’s Your Mama by JYP had been the chosen giant collaboration song) and then you guys would all end the entire performance with a performance of Seventeen’s Thanks.

“You really are a big fan of Seventeen aren’t you?” Kwangsun asked you as you outlined your idea. He was smiling fondly at you, but for some reason the comment made you tense up a tad.

“Sorry?”

“I mean you’ve got to be a huge carat. You always plan these events, right? And you guys always perform so many Seventeen songs.”

“I guess you could say that… It’s just that being able to mirror their synchronization and execute their difficult choreography makes our group look better as a whole. It makes us look even more impressive you know?”

It was a hard show. You weren’t dancing as much as usual, but even so, you never left the stage. Never had a moment to clear your head, never had a chance to relax and tell yourself that everything was going to be okay. It was just smiling, and laughing, and dancing and pretending like everything was okay until you watched as the rest of the people on stage slowly sank down…

“Gomabda,” you sang. You slowly lowered yourself to the ground, counting beats as you lifted yourself back up, pulled your hand across your chest, and slid it down your arm. You hooked your pinkies together, letting your head drop to look down at your lap.

You heard applause and you got to your feet, eagerly waving around the audience.

“Thank you for coming!” You called excitedly. Kwangsun laughed as well grabbing his own microphone.

“We hope to do this again for you guys! Have a good night!”

Everyone in the group began to depart from the formations, meeting with their friends, or fans in the audience. Finally having everyone’s eyes off of you made you deflate. You could see Kwangsun making his way to you and so you turned to him and wrapped your arms around him in a grateful hug.

Kwangsun held you tight and seemed pretty reluctant when you pulled away slightly, but you were adamant anyways.

“Hey, there is someone I’ve got to see,” you stated softly. “Catch up in a second.”

You could feel his eyes on you, but you didn’t care. You were determined to see Jihoon and do damage control. You couldn’t imagine what he could potentially be thinking about and whether or not he was mad. You were so ridiculously anxious.

You pushed blindly through the crowd, and before you got really anywhere you felt someone grab your wrist. You were worried for a moment it was Kwangsun but when you got pulled into his arms you recognized the hug to be different. Tight grip, smaller but built frame. You smiled and buried your face into his neck.

“You came,” you mumbled into him. He laughed, an action you felt in the vibrations that ran through his body.

“Of course, I came. You come to all my concerts,” he replied. You pulled back and beamed at him brightly.

“That’s different,” you insisted. “You’re an idol.”

“You’re practically an idol,” he stated. He waved around the square at all the people standing around and smiled. “I mean you arranged this whole collaboration and everything!”

You rolled your eyes.

“Well, if I learned anything, I learned it all from you,” you murmured back. You nervously bit down on the bottom of your lip. “Are you sure that you… Liked the performance?”

He laughed.

“Of course, I did! I swear you get better and better every day!” He said encouragingly. Still you weren’t able to get out of your head about everything. You pressed your lips together.

“But it was really…”

“Sexy,” Jihoon agreed with a nod of his head. “You must have had to practice a ton with Kwangsun.” “Hours on end would you believe?” Your heart began to pound in your chest again, and you looked over as Kwangsun himself wandered over to you two.

You hadn’t imagined he would try to come find you, but you supposed you had just been hopeful with that thought.

“We spent ages in the practice room together,” he stated. “Really helps you to get to know a person.”

“Ah-ha!” You laughed out nervously. “Meet Kwangsun.”

Kwangsun beamed and looked at you.

“I just had to see who was so important to you that you ran off like that… Who is this?”

You knew you couldn’t answer the who is this question, but you were still determined to get of this situation unscathed, secrets safe, with no more secrets between you and Jihoon. How the hell you were going to manage that? Honestly? You didn’t know. But still, you were going to try.

“We-”

“Hey look who it is!”

You nearly face palmed, how on the planet could even Jeongin be here?

“It’s my favorite-” You pointed at Kwangsun from behind his back and smiled nervously at Jeongin. You knew his next word upon seeing you and Jihoon together was going to be- “Couple… of… friends!”

He bounced up to you guys and threw his arm around Jihoon’s shoulders laughing loudly as if he hadn’t just almost exposed them. You breathed out in relief and smiled nervously at Kwangsun when he turned around.

“Kwangsun-”

“Sunny,” he tried to correct. You just ignored him.

“This is one of my best friends Jeongin,” you introduced. Finally, you were in good company. You could really relax and not worry so much about having to lie about Jihoon and you with Jeongin here. You knew he would catch on pretty face to the simplistics of the situation. You knew that he would make this easier on you. (Even though, honestly, most days just being around Jihoon made everything easier on you anyways.)

“Jeongin? She’s never brought you up before,” Kwangsun said innocently. Your eyebrows drew in suspiciously at the boy but Jeongin either didn’t notice or comment on it.

“She’s a strange one,” he said with a laugh. “She’s never talking about the people who mean the most to her, and is always mentioning the people that will hardly ever be around in her life… On an unrelated topic, she’s mentioned you to me before.”

You smacked Jeongin on the arm and shot him a glare, wondering why he was being so rude, but he didn’t seem to mind the act. He just smiled innocently.

“But no matter. I am Jeongin, her best friend! And life advisor!”

“You aren’t my best friend, and you aren’t my life advisor,” You grumbled back, but a part of you was still a little relieved by Jeongin’s presence here. Even if… maybe he wasn’t going to be the saving grace you had initially assumed him to be. Jihoon laughed at your two’s antics, seeming amused by the entire situation. You were relieved, oh god so relieved.

“This is Changwoo,” you stated, gesturing towards Jihoon. Jihoon gave Kwangsun a short wave which made him nod his acknowledgment.

“Yep… Changwoo. That’s my name. I’m a close friend of Jeongin’s now a days,” he stated. “We’re getting lunch next Thursday.”

“You are?” You asked in surprise.

Jeongin beamed.

“We are!”

Kwangsun laughed in pure amusement as Jeongin put his arm around your shoulders and pulled you close. You felt yourself sigh in content and rest your head on Jeongin’s shoulder at the action. Suddenly you were hit with a wave of nothing but pure exhaustion.

You buried your face in Jeongin’s chest, and wrapped your arms around his body, but you were only in that position for about two seconds before Jeongin had pushed you into a different set of arms. Jihoon’s hands settled comfortably over your shoulders and you felt the tip of his hat brush your head.

“Oh hello,” he murmured. You felt your face darken and you looked up at him.

“How did I find my way over here?” You asked teasingly. Jihoon rolled his eyes at your words but the smile never left his lips so you knew that he found your jesting adorable either way. You lowered your eyes again, burying your face into his chest. You heard Kwangsun start to talk, a question that you believed was directed at you but before you could turned your head out and address it, you felt the distinct body vibrations that meant that meant that Jihoon was talking.

Quickly the boys around you dissolved into conversation, but you didn’t even care. You weren’t generally very tired after concerts but today was something entirely different.

You felt Jihoon’s thumb rub a circle into the back of your neck and you peeled away from him, to rejoin the commotion going on around you. Kwangsun beamed when he saw your attention returned, but a glance around showed you that Jeongin wasn’t looking very happy.

You gave Jeongin a confused look feeling as Jihoon pulled you closer to him by your waist. Jeongin rolled his eyes and did a small head quirk to the side directing your attention over to Kwangsun.

“Remember when we were practicing Now, and you stumbled into me?” He said excitedly. “That’s when I knew I wanted to kiss you so badly that day.”

Jeongin laughed and you felt your face burning red.

“So then, y/n and I had been practicing for like an hour straight no breaks and I need a break, so I tell her that I’m going to take one, but she just keeps practicing,” he stated. “And then I’m teasing her about it, and she calls me Sunny and my heart jumps…”

“That a nickname you call him often?” Jeongin asked dryly. Kwangsun’s smile grew.

“If I’m lucky! Does she call you guys any nicknames?”

Jihoon hummed.

“No, not that I can recall.”

You wanted to protest that you literally had him in your phone as a nickname under his photo album but before you could argue anything Jeongin kept talking.

“So, I start to get really close to her because this is it, you know. I’m telling her that I want to be with her and that I want to kiss her, and I’m going to do it, I’m determined to kiss her in that perfect moment and-”

Just then you felt Jihoon’s phone buzz in his pocket, he gently pressed you away from him, and Kwangsun stopped his story as Jihoon pulled out his phone.

Jihoon looked down at his phone, a frustrated expression crossing his face.

“Hey, I’m sorry, I have to go,” he murmured. He looked up at you and stared at you for a long moment. You could tell that he wanted to kiss you and honestly you wanted nothing more than to let him do so. You wished so badly to be able to feel his lips on yours again, even though it had only been a day since you last saw him and got to do just that… But it seemed like Jihoon had better self-control than usual. He smiled at you and turned his head to the side.

“I’ll see you?” He asked. You nodded.

“I’m sure I’ll see you soon.”

You let Jihoon’s hand fall out of yours despite wanting to hold on to it, and it wasn’t until he had disappeared in the crowd and you couldn’t feel the lingering warmth of his hand on yours, that you realized something horrible.

Jihoon never heard the end of the story.

Jihoon never heard that you didn’t let Kwangsun kiss you.

You felt your heart drop at the thought, and you considered chasing back after him to assure him of just that but before you could Kwangsun was speaking again.

“So that was him huh? The guy you’re in love with.”

You choked on air and were about to spit out some excuse about how Kwangsun had just read the room wrong, but you didn’t get the chance, cause your reaction was answer enough.

“Does he know?”

“Uh… Yeah, he does,” you mumbled slowly. Kwangsun’s fingers balled into small fists.

“What and he isn’t your boyfriend?” He demanded. That felt like a shot to the heart. After all it wasn’t Jihoon’s fault you guys weren’t official… Not really. In the end it just boiled down to you and all of your insecurities. “What kind of a-”

“It’s not Ji- Changwoo’s fault,” you stuttered, you stepped towards Kwangsun. “It’s uh, it’s just complicated.” Kwangsun rolled his eyes.

“Yeah. Complicated. Don’t you have any respect for yourself?” Once again you were caught off-guard by his words, unable to say anything as the rage grew in his eyes. “I mean really. Guys like him will just take advantage of you and leave you on the curb.”

“But-”

“You shouldn’t be waiting around for idiots like him,” Kwangsun insisted. He reached forward this time and took your hand. “You should be with me.”

“Kwang-”

“I’d actually take care of you I would-”

“Well at least Ji-” Jeongin interrupted himself with a scrunch of his nose. “Changwoo lets her get a word in edge wise.”

“I’m just saying that she deserves someone who actually appreciates her.”

“Changwoo does appreciate her! And he actually respects her opinions and feelings instead of just assuming that-”

“Jeongin!” You interrupted before Jeongin could continue. He gave you an annoyed look and you could tell that he was angry, which surprised you. He had always been so laid back that you had never imagined actually seeing him mad. You felt the need to walk over to him, calmly placing a hand on his shoulder and giving him a sympathetic look.

He re relaxed a little at that… But not a whole lot.

“I can stand up for myself, Jeongin,” you assured him softly. He rolled his eyes at your words.

“I wasn’t standing up for you, I was standing up for Changwoo,” he replied certainly. “And god knows he deserves it for how much he cares about you and-”

“Jeongin,” you interrupted weakly. Jeongin fell silent and gestured to the ground before him, letting you take over. You looked back over at Kwangsun who looked a little annoyed, for what reason you weren’t sure.

“The stuff with Changwoo is… Well, it’s complicated because of me, not because of him,” you explained softly. “I’m scared of commitment but he… He seems ready for it crazy enough. He’s really sweet and jesus I love him so much-”

“Oh my god,” you looked back at Jeongin, surprised to find that he was completely at ease now. He smiled at you softly. “You admitted that you love him.”

You chuckled and brushed your hair nervously behind your ear.

“Shut up,” you murmured. “Anyways, Changwoo is a really great guy and I appreciate the concern but there is no need.”

“I just…” he huffed and crossed his arms. “I just care about you a lot okay. I want to make sure you are with someone who cares about you, because you deserve nothing but the best.”

You smiled gently.

“Changwoo wouldn’t ever hurt me,” you assured. “Now, I really need to get Jeongin home before he gets even more angry…”

“You’re treating me to dinner first,” Jeongin grumbled. Then he rolled his eyes. “Just kidding I’ll treat you to dinner. You really killed it at the busk.”

He reached out his hand, his bratty behavior from before disappearing when you placed your hand in his. He beamed at you, and you rolled your eyes at that.

“I’ll make it up to you Kwangsun, you can text me anytime you know?” You murmured. Kwangsun’s eyebrows scrunched together, and his lips formed a firm line.

“I’m sorry I upset your friend; I hope that…” He trailed off and sighed. “I’ll text you; I owe you lunch huh?”

You smiled at him wearily and waved your hand through the air in farwell.

-

“Why didn’t you tell me about Kwangsun?”

You rolled your eyes pushing our spoon deeper into the scoop of ice cream that Kwangsun had insisted on purchasing for you. You had told him a hundred times on the trip over that ice cream wasn’t dinner, and that he shouldn’t substitute it for it, but he insisted that ice cream was good for the soul and that you needed to chill out anyways.

“I did,” you replied. Jeongin scoffed at that.

“Yeah, okay, maybe but you didn’t tell me that he was bothering you,” Jeongin responded. “I could tell from the moment I saw you and Jihoon talking to him that something was wrong.”

“Yeah well I think you’re overreacting,” you replied pointedly. “I just can’t help but thinking that I’m a terrible person for not returning Kwangsun’s feelings. And that I don’t deserve all the good attention that I’m getting from him when I like Jihoon. And it’s not like I’m also worried that Jihoon will get jealous like he did with you, and that he thinks I kissed Kwangsun when I’m basically with him, and that me not being able to call him my… you know… means that he’ll think I’m not worth the trouble and he’ll break up with me and not want to see me anymore.”

You didn’t even realize that you had said that all in one breath until you finished the sentence. Your face was red and hot from the exertion of letting it all spill and honestly you were so embarrassed by admitting the truth that you hid behind your hand and another spoonful of ice cream.

Jeongin whistled, shaking his head slowly.

“You really do over-think for someone so hyperly aware of their situation,” Jeongin stated softly. “You know that Jihoon isn’t going to break up with you right?”

“And how do you know that?” You demanded. Jeongin dropped his spoon.

“Because he loves you,” Jeongin argued.

“Yeah, sure he does. Me, my fear of commitment, and even better, the man that I did a sexy dance with without really telling him about it who he thinks that I kissed,” you blurted. Jeongin reached across the table and grabbed you by your wrists.

“Get a hold of yourself!” He exclaimed. “You’re making it so hard to enjoy the ice cream…”

You scoffed and pulled your hands away from him, which made him sigh.

“Okay, okay, look really you are overreacting,” he mumbled. “Just wait until you see Jihoon again. You can clear the air and then you will find out that he trusts you, and you can go back to being so disgustingly in love with the guy that you’ll forget you were ever worried.”

You pouted to yourself, ice cream forgotten.

Sure, you knew that Jeongin was right… But there was still that ball of dread sitting in the pit of your stomach at the thought of Jihoon thinking you had cheated. There could’ve been another way to change this outcome, you should have just told him what dance you were doing... Should’ve asked him if it would bother him or something.

God you wished you could just relax but the thought of facing Jihoon again and him being upset or hurt… You swallowed hard.

“Y/n,” Jeongin mumbled between bites of ice cream, an eyebrow raised precariously higher than the rest. “Please tell me you aren’t going to do anything stupid.”

You forced yourself to pick up your bowl of ice cream, and plastered a smile on your lips.

“When have I ever done anything stupid before?” You asked him.

Chapter Twenty-Four

[heave-hyung]

Save The Drama For Yo’ Mama

Inspired by real experience, in which Jin doesn’t believe Taehyung’s actually sick and it ends up with Taehyung vomiting literally everywhere. 

- Taehyung has always been the type for dramatics. 

He has a deeply rooted love for cuddling and attention and affection, so the second he stubs his toe, he’ll go whine about it--or maybe he’s sore from practice, he’ll go to a member craving a massage. When he’s sad, he’ll want to be held, and when he’s happy, he wants the world to know. Taehyung has always had a thing for pulling theatrics and overexaggerating his ailments, and the others always find it absolutely adorable.

Except for on days when they’re in a time crunch to get a new choreo down and have absolutely no time for bullshit. Days where they have to get to the studio as soon as possible to work from morning to night to perfect the setlist for their next performance. It’s on these days that Tae’s whining goes right over their heads and straight to their nerves, and as much as they love him, nobody has the time or energy to put up with it. 

“Kim Taehyung,” Seokjin’s voice is stern, the way it is when one of the boys does something stupid and it’s his job to handle it as the eldest, lacking all of it’s normal joy. “Wake up. We don’t have time for this.” 

The older boy shakes Taehyung by the hip, earning a low whine from the second youngest. Taehyung buries his face in his pillow and takes a deep breath, curling up tighter. 

“No, get up, stop it,” Seokjin shakes him a little harder. “I know you’re tired, we all are, but you have to get up, Tae.”

Taehyung mumbles something incoherent into his pillow and moans. 

“What? I can’t understand you with your face in a pillow.”

“I said I don’ feel good, Jinnie-hyung,” he flips over so he’s on his back, but keeps his eyes screwed shut. “My throat hurts--”

“-probably from singing too hard yesterday-” Seokjin tries making excuses for all of his symptoms. There’s no way he’s sick, they haven’t been exposed to anyone but each other and their well-kept studio.

“--no, and my stomach hurts--”

“--didn’t you eat a lot last night?”

“--and I feel sick, hyung, I feel so nauseous.” 

Seokjin blows out a frustrated exhale, running a hand through his hair. “Look, if you get sick, we’ll take you home, alright? But come on, you have to try. For me, tiger, try for me.” 

Taehyung gives a shaky exhale, pushing himself to sit up and immediately regretting it; his eyes aren’t even open and he can feel the world spinning. “I really...I really don’t feel good…”

“You’ll be fine.” Seokjin insists, assuming all of it could just be nerves or from pushing himself, and any other day he’d give all the sympathy in the world and coo and hold him but they just don’t have time for it today. 

Taehyung rubs the sleep out of his eyes, hiccuping. “Fine, I’ll...be out in a second.”

Seokjin nods, getting up. Just before he closes the door behind him, he says, “I’m trusting you not to go back to bed,” and gives him a stern look. The younger singer nods in return. 

Seokjin can’t help but feel a little guilty--something seemed off about the younger man, but he tells himself it’s nothing and moves on, telling the others that he managed to get him out of bed and he’ll be out in a second. 

Taehyung stumbles out to the living room some ten minutes later, looking disheveled but dressed enough to leave the house nonetheless. Jimin and Jungkook both shoot their fellow maknae a concerned look while the hyungs are already out the door. Jimin puts an arm around Taehyung’s shoulder, a wordless comfort, hoping that Taehyung is just tired. 

When they get in the car, Taehyung takes a seat in the back, immediately pulling his legs up to his chest and leaning against the window. The coolness of the glass feels nice against his cheek; despite it being the early fringes of winter, he’s hot and sweating. Jimin sits beside him and leans on his shoulder, running his fingers through the younger boy’s hair. He seems to be the only one that notices that something isn’t right--or at least the only one paying any mind to it. 

The whole ride to the studio, Taehyung is taking shaky breaths, like he’s trying to take deep breaths but his body can’t do the full job of it. He keeps his eyes closed, occasionally trying to breathe through his mouth to get more oxygen in his lungs. The last thing he wants to do is throw up in the car; he’s fortunate enough to not be a member who gets carsick, like Jimin or Yoongi. And Hoseok was right this morning; they don’t have time for him and his bullshit.

Taehyung can’t help but fight tears at the feeling that nobody cares. 

→ ← 

“Tae, wake up,” it’s Jimin’s voice that breaks into Taehyung’s half-asleep state. When did he manage to fall asleep? “We’re here, come on.”

Taehyung nods, inhaling deeply to steel himself. He steps out of the car, watching his exhale turn to fog. Once more, the world spins, and a wave of nausea overtakes him. He leans heavily against the door for a moment, willing his stomach contents to stay in place. He did eat a lot last night, so if he did throw up, it wouldn’t be pretty. 

“Hey, are you okay?” Taehyung didn’t realize Jimin had been standing there waiting for him. 

The younger of the two is tempted to confess to Jimin about his symptoms too, but it seems like there’s no use. There’s no way out. So he nods and follows Jimin and the rest of the members inside. The normally cozy temperature of the room hits him in the face like he just stepped into a furnace, only worsening the uncomfortable, sticky warmth that’s plagued him since he woke up. The nausea still hasn’t faded and his stomach is audibly roiling and churning sickly. 

Taehyung is broken out of his trance by Hoseok clapping and ordering everyone to get into place. The singer stumbles to his spot, and without any more second glances spared to him, the music starts. Shortly after it begins, it stops, however, and Taehyung is disoriented for a moment. He wonders if he managed to blank out and do the choreo without thinking, but he knows that’s unrealistic. Now, there are no glances; all eyes are on him.

“What’s up with you today?” Taehyung knows he’s just stressed, but Hoseok sounds angry and that’s how it’s registered through his brain fog--Hoseok’s mad at him. “I--” Taehyung’s voice cracks, almost making it clear to the others that he’s on the verge of tears. “Sorry,” he mumbles. “I’ll do better.” 

Hoseok crosses his arms, looks up and down the second youngest’s shaky frame, but after a moment he nods anyway. Nobody notices Seokjin, who’s sipping his water and looking awfully guilty in one of the corners of the room--everybody seems to be getting a little concerned, though. 

But they don’t have time for messing around. So the music starts again. Taehyung does his best to focus, to actually do the moves right, and he makes it a little farther until the music stops again and all eyes are on him once more. 

“Tae, really, don’t you practice at all alone? You’re normally so good at picking up choreo, the one time we need you to get it toge--” 

Taehyung cuts off Hoseok’s rant by lurching forward with a heave, bringing up a copious wave of sick that splatters on the hardwood floor. Hoseok freezes, caught off guard--he saw that Taehyung was pale, but he wasn’t expecting to get specks of puke on his shoes today. He looks back at the others, who all quickly jump into action when Taehyung heaves again, his knees giving out. 

Jimin runs to his side, holding him up so he doesn’t fall too close to the rapidly growing puddle of sick and get it all over him. He has one hand across his chest and the other pulling back his bangs. “That’s it, get it up,” Jimin knows Taehyung won’t be able to move to the bathroom--he can’t even stand--so he does his best to comfort here, voice soft and light, nothing but love in his tone. “You’re alright, you’re okay…”

Namjoon comes and joins the two with a bottle of water, putting it beside Jimin to give to Taehyung when he’s ready. Jungkook grabs a towel to try and clean some of the sweat off of him, knowing that it can’t be very comfortable to feel soaked, cold, and sticky. Yoongi comes with a washcloth, dampened with cool water, to place on the back of his neck instead--Taehyung is burning up. 

“Why didn’t you tell anyone you weren’t feeling good, Tae?” Namjoon asks, wiping tears off his cheek with his thumb.

“I--” Taehyung tries to answer, but he just retches again, and again, his stomach refusing to give him a break.

“He did.” Suddenly, Seokjin--who’s been awfully quiet this whole time--speaks up. “He said he wasn’t feeling good this morning, and I thought he just...I thought he was just stressed.” The oldest crouches down to Taehyung’s eye level, narrowly avoiding the lake of vomit that’s on the floor now. “I’m sorry I didn’t listen to you…” 

Taehyung coughs and belches hollowly before he finally gets a break. “N-No, it’s okay,” he says, voice hoarse. “M’sorry I made a mess…” Taehyung can’t stop himself from crying beyond the tears that had already fallen from exertion. Jimin places a kiss to the crown of his head, slowly helping him to stand and get away from that mess he’s apologizing for as he reassures him that it’s not his fault. Jimin sits Taehyung down on the bench they normally put their stuff on, moving bags around to make room for him and handing him the bottle of water. “Sip slowly, okay? Try and drink a little for me, I don’t want you to get dehydrated.” 

As they sit for a moment, the others get their things together--there’s no way they were letting their schedule get in the way when one of the members was horribly ill--and Hoseok returns from the bathroom where he’d gone to wipe the thankfully small amount of vomit off of his shoes. 

“You think you’re okay to go, TaeTae? I’m sure you’ll be much more comfortable in bed at home than here,” Jimin asks softly, brushing the younger’s sweaty fringe away from his forehead. 

Truthfully, Taehyung still feels really nauseous, but Jimin is right; he does want to go home and lie down. So he nods, albeit hesitantly. Jimin sees his uncertainty, able to assume why he doesn’t necessarily want to get in a car. 

“We still have bags in the car, right?” Jimin asks whoever may be listening. “I think I just used one recently…” 

“We should, yeah,” Yoongi confirms. “It would be stupid to not have bags when some of us get carsick.” Jimin turns his attention back to Taehyung. “You won’t make a mess...if you get sick I’ll hold the bag for you, baby, it’ll be okay. Okay?” 

Taehyung nods, taking a shaky breath. “Okay.” 

And with that, they head off; Namjoon takes a final glance at the mess before they leave and makes a mental note to make sure a janitor comes by soon. Taehyung returns to the seat he sat in on the way here by the window, leaning his cheek against it once more. Jimin sits next to him and offers his hand to hold. Taehyung accepts the offer gratefully, squeezing his hand tightly and getting a squeeze back.

Taehyung closes his eyes, trying again to take deep breaths and keep the water he’d drank down. He doesn’t want to throw up in a car--he doesn’t want to throw up again in general. His stomach gurgles and groans, and he presses his free hand to his abdomen, chewing on his lower lip. Still, despite all of his effort, his mouth starts watering again. 

“Y-You said we have bags?” 

Immediately, they jump into action, Namjoon taking two plastic bags from the glove compartment and handing them to Jimin. Jungkook, sitting next to Jimin, takes out his water bottle so he can hand it to Taehyung as soon as he’s finished, if not to drink than to rinse his mouth out at least. Jimin sees how shaky Taehyung is so he doesn’t bother trying to get him to hold the bag--the second it’s beneath his chin, Taehyung is retching again. Yoongi, who’s sitting behind them, reaches forward to pull back the singer’s hair. 

“We’ll be home soon,” Hoseok reassures from the front, being the one driving. He’s a smooth driver and some of the others are not, so he was trusted with that position. “A few more minutes, TaeTae.” 

Taehyung can barely hear him over his heaving, comically loud as always, painful and grating as he heaves up the water he’d drank and a considerable amount of stomach acid. He groans when he has a chance to catch his breath, swallowing once, twice, before picking his head up. 

“I think--I think I’m good,” he chokes out between panting, and Jimin nods, tying off the bag and holding his hand once more. Jungkook wordlessly offers the water, but Jimin just shakes his head, figuring he’ll try and get him to drink again when they get home, knowing that it’s much less comfortable to vomit in a moving vehicle than it is at home and in bed with a trashcan. 

Just as Hoseok said, they get home a few minutes later. Taehyung moves as fast as he can on shaky legs. The second they get inside, he heads directly to the bathroom. The boys exchange glances--he’s still throwing up? What else could he possibly have in him? 

Before following him, Jimin asks Seokjin to make some tea and Jungkook to get some extra blankets so he could tuck Taehyung in nicely once he finally managed to calm down enough to sleep without retching up a lung. And then Jimin is by Taehyung’s side once more, rubbing his back and holding his hair away. He feels all of Taehyung’s muscles tense as he retches, bringing up nothing but trickles of bile, saliva, and foam. 

“Taehyungie, I really think you’re empty…” Jimin insists, getting worried that Taehyung will break a rib from the force of which he keeps dry heaving. “Try and breathe, baby, just try to breathe,” he encourages, hoping that Taehyung will calm down soon.

Luckily enough, he does, reduced to panting and burping and groaning once more. Jimin reaches up to flush the toilet for him before hoisting him up to his feet, guiding him slowly but surely to bed. Taehyung plops down on the mattress, happy to be home, and he drags Jimin down with him, immediately clinging to him. 

Jimin doesn’t stop him, smiling fondly at the younger boy and placing a kiss to the top of his head once more before continuing to card his fingers through his hair. He covers them both up with the blankets Jungkook had given them, holding Taehyung close. “My poor TaeTae...I’m sorry you’re feeling so sick…” Jimin comments after a moment. 

Taehyung doesn’t respond--Jimin would expect at least a hum. He just shifts a bit, clings tighter to Jimin, and exhales deeply. His breathing has evened out--Jimin realizes that he must’ve fallen asleep already. He must’ve been so exhausted.

And taking care of your ailing bandmate must also be pretty exhausting, because when Seokjin comes in with a cup of tea, both boys are fast asleep.

[deans-baby-momma]

Rebel Without A Cause- Ch 18

A/N: NSFW chapter will be added to this DOCUMENT. (By tonight)

Maggie turns to look at the girl standing behind her and rakes her eyes over the woman. Crossing her arms she prepares for the dispute. “So?” Rayne smiles up at Maggie; she is about 3-4 inches shorter than Maggie. 

Maggie quirks an eyebrow at the grin on her possible nemesis’ face. “You got something to say about it?”

“No,” Rayne denies. “I didn’t mean it like that. I just, uh….meant you must be someone special to Dean for him to settle down. I actually haven’t seen him this happy as long as I’ve known him.”

“Oh, yea?” Maggie asks, dropping the confrontational stance “How long have you known Dean?”

“Well, I caught their first concert about 8 months ago...and then a couple of months after that, I met Sam and we hit it off and I’ve been to every performance since. So I’ve seen a lot- and I mean a lot of the women Dean has gone through he never seemed truly satisfied with. It was like he was looking for something in them and just couldn’t find it. Then he picks you a month ago and now here you are, being introduced to the band as his girlfriend.” Rayne sits on the leather couch that is in the room and pats the seat beside her, motioning for Maggie to join her, which she does. “Dean seems happier now, jolly even. I have never seen a true smile on the man’s face.”

Hearing the fact that Dean had had multiple partners didn’t affect Maggie as much as hearing that she was the reason for the change in Dean. She smiled at the prospect that people thought she was the contentment he had been searching for. “You really think so?”

“Yea, girl. I do,” Rayne responds. “Dean is definitely a changed man now that you’ve come into his life.”

Maggie and Rayne continued talking about everything they could think of. Once Maggie got comfortable enough with Sam’s girlfriend she decided to bring up the one issue she was having problems with. “Rayne, can I ask you something personal?”

“Sure.”

“You say you’ve seen a lot. Have you ever seen…..Dean with any of the band members? Benny, to be specific?”

“Well, I wasn’t going to bring it up,” Rayne hesitantly says. “But yea, Dean and Benny regularly share whatever girl is willing to. Is that why you were so closed off and detached when Benny was around? Did he try something? Because if he did, I’ll kill him!” Rayne vehemently threatens. “Sam says he hasn’t seen his brother so cheerful and pleasant in like ever. If Benny screws this up, I will murder that Cajun reject.”

Maggie can’t help but laugh at the way Rayne is so fiercely defending her new friend. “No, he hasn’t. Not recently, anyway. This is probably TMI but the first night Dean and I slept together…after it was over, I looked up and Benny was standing there jerking off to us. Like, it threw me for a loop. I was not expecting that. And now you tell me that they usually share girls. I don’t know Rayne. It kinda makes me reconsider this whole thing. What if they want to share me? I’ve never done that before.”

“Threesomes aren't all that unusual in a band, Maggie,” Rayne affirms. “Hell, I’ve been known to have had a threesome once or twice. But usually, it’s just Sam and me. And since we’re sharing, I’ll let you in on a little bit of TMI also. Sam is almost more than I can handle. If we were to have a threesome, it’d have to be with another female.”

“I’ve heard stories about bands, not only this band but are orgies actually a thing? A room full of people having sex?”

“Yep, sure is. Sam and I have participated in that a couple of times. But I like it with just me and him. I feel more connected to him when it’s private and personal. I don’t feel like I’m having to compete for his attention.”

“Don’t you feel like a slut, though? Sleeping with two people at the same time?”

“Not one bit,” Rayne says as they hear the crowd go wild when a popular song begins. They both smile, knowing that soon their men will be coming backstage to join them. “You aren’t a slut if you only fuck one man during it. And hell, if you did decide to do it then who cares. Don’t let anyone slut-shame you. But also-” Rayne says, laying a hand over Maggie’s. “-don’t do it only because you want to make Dean happy. If you want to do it, talk to him first. Don’t just jump in the sack with him and whoever because that’s what you think he wants. Do it because you want to.”

A few women follow Brad, the same guy who had approached Maggie before, into the room. Maggie watches as they walk around, some finding a place to sit while the others discover the drink table and grab themselves a bottle of liquid courage. She momentarily wonders if Dean has reverted back to his old ways of finding women in the crowd to enjoy. But then she remembers that he had promised to only pick the ones that Benny points out to him and relaxes. Rayne steps up beside her and the two of them share a smile. Moments later, the door opens again and the band enters. Dean makes his way straight to Maggie while Sammy beelines to Rayne. 

“Hey, baby,” Dean says, throwing an arm around Maggie’s shoulders and kissing her, his tongue sweeping against hers.  “Wanna get out of here?” 

Maggie smiles up at her man and nods in earnest. They turn to see Sam and Rayne standing by the door, holding hands and smiling at them. The four of them exit the room as they hear Benny speak up, “Hello, ladies!” Exiting the building, the Winchester brothers, along with their women, head toward Dean’s prized possession- a mint-condition 1967 Chevy Impala that was a gift from their father. 

Knowing that there’s no possible way for Sam to sit in the backseat with Rayne, Maggie rounds the vehicle with Dean, to get into the back. She smiles at Dean as she opens the door and slides in behind his seat. Once they are all situated inside the car, it is decided that they would go find a bar and grab a couple of drinks to celebrate another successful show. 

The Rebel Canteen seems to be the hot spot in Milford, Delaware. The parking lot is full of cars and once Dean finds a parking spot and they get out, the sounds of music and voices overlapping fill their ears. Taking Dean’s outstretched hand, Maggie and he follow Sam and Rayne to the front door. Inside, the place is just as packed as the outside and Maggie briefly ponders how they are going to be able to hear one another speak. Her query is answered quickly as Dean leans in close and speaks into her ear. “Want your usual?” 

“Yes, please,” she practically yells to be heard over the commotion. She watches as he and Sam head toward the bar before Rayne grabs her wrist to pull her toward a vacant booth against the wall. Once inside the booth, Maggie is amazed to find out that with the high back of the benches, the sounds of the bar are reduced greatly. The sounds were so diminished, that conversation was going to be easy to carry on. 

“So, I saw that look when Brad walked in with those women,” Rayne says to Maggie. “You were worried, weren’t you? Afraid he had decided to try to introduce someone new to your relationship.”

Maggie just stared at her new friend. How is it that this woman could already read her so well? How was it that Rayne knew what had crossed her mind almost before Maggie understood what it was? It was amazing and shocking how perceptive she was. 

And she couldn’t deny it. Maggie had thought that and it had terrified her. She wasn’t sure if she was or ever would be ready to do something like that, and she was fearful it would run Dean off. She was afraid that he would get bored being with only her and would walk away. Maggie didn’t know whether she could handle that. In the three months that they have been a couple, Maggie had already fallen pretty hard. It was easy, seeing as some of those old feelings from her teenage years had come crashing back once she had spent time with Dean.

Dean and Sam found the girls easily enough; Dean sliding in beside Maggie while Sam joined Rayne. Dean handed Maggie her drink and joked about her “girly drink with the umbrella.” They all shared a laugh about that and then Sam and Dean began talking about the show and how things could be tweaked and made better and how it was time to change up the song lineup. Maggie was only half paying attention, twirling her straw in her drink.

“Hey,” Dean said, catching her attention. Maggie looked up to see that they were alone in the booth. ‘When had Sam and Rayne left?’ she thought as she looked out to see the couple on the dance floor; some slow song was starting its first crescendo. “Are you okay? You seem to be a million miles away,” Dean asked and Maggie could hear the worry in his voice.

Rayne wasn’t the best dancer, she had never claimed to be, but she enjoyed being in the arms of her boyfriend. She gazed up into Sam’s hazel eyes and smiled. “Ya know, Maggie is still nervous that Dean is gonna get bored with just her. You can see it in her eyes.”

“Well, that’s crazy. Dean is more in love with her than I’ve ever thought possible. She has nothing to worry about.” Sam had to bend down a bit to really be able to hear her over the din of music, but he had caught every word.

She shrugged. “I know and I keep telling her that. I’ve even told her that I’ve never seen him so happy. And it’s true. I just wish I could do something to ease her mind. I hate seeing her stressed. She’s my friend and you know how I am.”

Sam nodded. He did know how she was. Rayne was very protective of her friends. While she was kinky as hell and a bit of a freak and nerd, the petite woman was also a total mama bear. He loved that about her and he, like her, hoped they could find a way to help Maggie stop worrying about Dean leaving. “If only she saw how in love he is.”

Rayne almost snorted. “A blind man could see it. Those two are so madly in love it’s not even funny.”

Back in the booth, Maggie looked at the table. How could she tell Dean about what it was that she feared the most? How could she explain to him that knowing what he had gotten used to when it came to sex was something she just couldn’t fathom doing. She didn’t want to lose him, not after getting him after all this time, not when he was finally hers. So she took a breath and lifted her head. “I’m fine,” she lied. “Just happy to be out with you. Spending time with you, seeing how you are after a good concert.”  She leaned over and kissed him chastely. “I’m just tired. But I’m good. I promise.”

And that’s how the next few weeks went. Maggie worked all week long as the entertainment columnist at the Ft. Garrison News and on Fridays headed out to whatever venue in whatever city Dean and his band were playing, just to spend time with him. She and Rayne also became close friends and Maggie looked forward to hanging out with Sam’s girlfriend while their men were on stage rocking the masses. Maggie squealed and rejoiced with Rayne when the young woman informed her that Sam had finally muttered those three little words. She couldn’t help but speculate if she would ever hear those same words from the eldest brother. Only time would tell. 

The party was in full swing, the delight of another successful concert making the ambiance in the room palpable. The pub was full of people who had attended and enjoyed watching the Winchester Sex Bombs on stage, the sheer amount of both men and women stopping by their booth congratulating Dean was a shock to Maggie. 

She had gotten accustomed to women making advances and flirty comments to her boyfriend but she highly enjoyed watching the disappointment cross their face when he informs them he is 'spoken for'. 

"Come on, girl," Rayne yells as she grabs Maggie's hand and pulls her away from Dean's side. "This is a good song!" Maggie lets Rayne drag her onto the dance floor and laughs as Rayne begins dancing erratically. She, herself, wasn't the best dancer but she did at least try to match her movements to the beat and melody of the song, unlike Rayne who had her own beat going, apparently.

Watching Rayne wriggle and bop around, Maggie's taken back to a few nights ago, when she had had an eye-opening dream. Her imagination had conjured up a mind-boggling vision. She and Rayne had been dancing around in an establishment such as the one they were in tonight but instead of having the Winchester brothers there, they had one another. In her dream, Maggie and Rayne only had eyes for one another. As they danced closer and closer together and began to grind upon each other, Maggie had laid a kiss on Rayne. It was a kiss to rival every other kiss in the history of kisses. The dream had been unexpected but gave Maggie a new perspective. Apparently, she wasn't as opposed to the thought of adding another member to her and Dean's relationship as she had previously thought. Watching Rayne shimmy and wiggle,  Maggie realized that she wanted Rayne. Wanted to kiss her, to touch her, to fuck her.

Bringing herself out of her reverie, Maggie joins Rayne walking up behind the shorter woman and placing her hands on Rayne's waist. Rayne, in turn, begins swinging her hips side to side and laughing. Maggie wonders if Rayne has any idea the thoughts that have surged through her friend's head. Maggie matches Rayne's motions, pulling her hips back to her. Looking over her shoulder, Rayne looks at Maggie questioningly. Taking a chance, Maggie leans down to whisper in Rayne's ear.  "I want you."

"Wha-what?" Rayne stutters out, in complete disbelief. The statement had caused her to stop all movements and she turned to look at Maggie. 

"I want you," Maggie reiterated. "I want my first time with another female to be with you, Rayne. I trust you and I know you'll be considerate of my inexperience."

The two of them stood in the middle of the dance floor, their eyes never wavering from the others. When the song playing cuts off and another equally loud one starts up, Rayne grabs Maggie's hand and heads toward the little hallway she knew the bathrooms were in.

Rayne opens the bathroom door, going and looking under each stall before turning and looking at Maggie. "Now, I believe my ears were deceiving me," she says. "You couldn’t have possibly said what I think you said out there."

Maggie smiles and steps toward Rayne. She once again says the words, "I want my first time with another female to be with you, Rayne. I trust you and I know you'll be considerate of my inexperience."

Rayne lets the words sink in for a moment, looking Maggie over. She closes the space between them and cups her friend’s cheek. “I would be very considerate. Take it slow and easy. If you don’t like something, say so and I’ll stop. I’m willing to be with you but I want to make sure this is what you want.” The last thing she wants is to upset her friend and ruin their friendship.

Maggie smiles and cards her fingers through Rayne's silky locks, palming the back of her head. Leaning in, Maggie hesitantly places her lips upon Rayne's. The kiss immediately turns passionate and Maggie reluctantly pulls away when she can no longer catch a breath. "Let's go back to my room." Rayne smiles and nods and together the friends leave the bathroom to head out. 

Thankfully, the tavern is connected to the motel they were set up in and, with Dean and Sam busy signing autographs and discussing music with their fans, Maggie and Rayne can escape and get back to the room quickly. 

Once inside the room, Maggie pulls Rayne to her and begins kissing her again. Her hands roam the other's body, gripping her sides and hips. Maggie wraps her arms around Rayne and runs her hands down the girls back, carefully sliding over her ass. Her hands stop and she squeezes the ample flesh. Maggie hears Rayne whimper and it brings a smile to her lips. 

In no time at all, both females undress the other and they collapse on the bed, limbs entangled and full of giggles. Maggie rolls Rayne onto her back and hovers over her. "What now?" Maggie asks, abashed at her innocence. "What do I do since you know, I don't have a dick?" She tried to cover her shame with a joke.

Rayne smiles up at her, laughter in her eyes and says, "Well you have fingers and a tongue."

Maggie was knuckle deep inside Rayne, crooking her fingers and massaging her g-spot while Rayne writhed and panted above her, hands fisted in the sheets when Dean and Sam walked in.

"What the fuck?" Dean stated as he pulled his brother into the room and quickly closed the door.  When he and Sam couldn't find their girlfriends in the bar, Dean had been afraid that all the attention he had been getting from the females had pissed Maggie off and she was stewing in their room. He never imagined that she had been in here, fingering Sam’s girlfriend’s pussy. It was a sight for sure. He looked at Sam as Sam took in the activities on the bed and then looked to Dean. "Holy. Fucking. Shit!" Sam exclaimed. 

Maggie had stopped her ministrations when the guys had entered but her fingers were still buried in her best friend's sopping cunt. She looked over her shoulder at Dean and smiled. "Hey, baby," she said, nonchalantly. 

Dean raked his eyes over his girlfriend's sexy body and felt his dick twitch in his pants. Apparently fingering her friend was a turn on because Maggie's juices were practically soaking the bed. He palmed himself as he took it all in. 

Sam, who was more accepting of it all, stepped to the head of the bed and squatted down by Rayne's face. "Hey, kitten. That feel good? She fingering you well?" he asked, a chuckle in his voice. 

Rayne bit her lip and nodded. “Mhmm really good. She really knows what she’s doing,” she mumbles, reaching out for his hand.

Sam grabs her hand and kisses each fingertip. "Didn't know you were into Maggie. But goddamn is it hot as fuck. Walking in and seeing you all laid out like this. Only problem is, Dean has seen what’s mine now." He takes his gaze off his girlfriend to look over at his brother. 

"Baby?" Dean says as he approaches the bed, his eyes on Maggie. "What are you doing?"

Maggie giggles and looks up at him.  "What does it look like?"

Dean glances up at where her fingers are submerged in Rayne. He quickly looks away, not wanting to look at Rayne's pussy, although he couldn't help but appreciate it. The way it enveloped Maggie’s dainty fingers and the way Rayne’s juices covered Maggie’s hand. His dick jerked in his jeans and he could feel the precum already leaking onto his boxers.

Dean puts his attention back on Maggie, laid out on the bed naked and body slightly twitching. "I can see what you’re doing," he says with a playful roll of his eyes. "What I meant, is why?"

"Because Rayne is hot," Maggie states, matter of factly. "And because I wanted to have this experience with someone I trusted. And," Maggie continues, now beginning to doubt everything. "I wanted to be prepared in case you wanted to do something like this. She's been teaching me how to pleasure another female." With that, she removed her fingers from inside Rayne and sat up. "I'm sorry."

Dean's heart swelled at the admission that Maggie was doing something so far out of her comfort zone and that she was doing it to please him in future endeavors. He realized then just how far she would go for him and realized he would go just as far for her. He had never imagined doing this with his younger brother but then again he never thought he'd be in a relationship with his ex-girlfriend's little sister either. Getting into character, he pulled Maggie up and crashed his mouth to hers, subconsciously disappointed that she tasted like herself. "You haven't tasted her yet?" he whispers and he pulls back and open his eyes. "I bet she tastes good." He raises his voice, to include his brother in the conversation. "Sammy, does lil Rayne here taste good?"

Sam's eyes never leaves Rayne's as he answers. "Like heaven. Sweet and delicious." He smiles at Rayne who grins back.

"Go on, baby," Dean urges. "Taste that sweet pussy." When Maggie turns around to get back between Rayne's thighs, Dean pulls her up until she is kneeling on her knees. "I'm going to fuck you while you eat her out."

Maggie's first swipe against Rayne is cautious but as the sweet tang of her friend's arousal hits her tastebuds she loses all coherent thought. Using her fingers she spread Rayne's lips and dives in, licking and sucking her clit into her lips. She barely even registers as Dean slides inside her, bottoming out. He begins hammering into her at a fast pace.

Dean never dreamed that this would happen but watching Maggie devouring a pussy as he fucks into her was beyond his wildest dreams. And the fact that the other girl was his own brother's girlfriend? Inconceivable. Others would probably think of it as taboo and yes, it probably is but they were all four consenting adults so who cares? Plus, Sam seemed to be enjoying the interaction just as much, Dean speculates, as he looks up to see Sam pistoning his own length into Rayne's willing mouth.

Dean could feel Maggie's walls flutter around him and he watched as she suckled on Rayne's clit, causing the girl to moan and mewl around his brother's cock. Dean felt his dick harden even more at the litany of moans and groans and the sound of skin slapping against skin. 

Maggie pulls back from Rayne's quivering pussy, watching the juice sluice out and slide down her asscheeks. She turns to look at Dean,  fully focused on his dick being swallowed. 

"You want a taste?" She asks when he glances up at her. Pushing up to a kneeling position,, Maggie turns and kisses him. He moans out loud as he tastes the sweet, tangy cum that invades his mouth. Sam wasn't lying,  Rayne did taste marvelous. 

"Fucking hell!" Dean breathes out when they part. He knows that Maggie tastes just as wonderful and before he knows what he is doing he speaks up. "Sammy, you want a taste of Mags?"

"Dude! I'm not sucking your dick," Sam exclaims, causing everyone to chuckle. 

"That is not what I meant, smartass," Dean demands with an irked eyeroll. "Just thought we could change positions."

In the blink of an eye, Sam takes Maggie's place between his girlfriend's thighs as Maggie settles herself over top of Rayne's awaiting mouth. Dean stands back and watches as Maggie lowers her pussy onto Rayne's face and starts grinding. Sammy slides into his girlfriend's cunt and Dean steps up so Maggie can suck him off.

The next morning, Dean and Maggie wake in one another's arms, not a stitch of clothing between them but alone in their room. They look at one another and see the same thing, worry. 

Did that actually happen? How many lines were crossed last night? Would things be awkward and confusing now? Could they look Sam and Rayne in the face ever again? Neither had an answer. 

Dean's cell rings minutes later and he answers only to hear Sam asking if he and Maggie were interested in going out for breakfast. Dean silently asks Maggie and she tentatively agrees. As they get dressed, the same worries keep going over and over in their heads but when they meet up with the other couple, those doubts are alleviated and they learn that's not the case at all. Sam and Rayne act as if nothing weird or freaky ever happened. 

@pink1031​ @spnbaby-67​ @winecatsandpizza​ @joseyrw​ @kricketc28​ @tftumblin​ @markofdean79​ @sandlee44​ @michellethetvaddict​ @lyarr24​ @travelingriversideblues-x​ 

[writingsteph]

USWNT one shot

So I just have been writing this on my way to and from work...it’s been stuck in my head and I had to get it out haha...please withhold your harsher judgements!!

“You are not going out, Mal. You worked really hard during training today love and what you need is rest, not a night out.”

Mallory rolled her eyes at her maternal figure. Long gone were the days when Christen was a friend, in fact she wondered if there were ever a time when that was the case. Since that moment at 17 when she found her crying at training camp, Christen always cared for her... and hovered over her like a fucking vulture. Jesus Fucking Christ.

“Besides -” Christen continued, cutting the younger forward’s thoughts short, “You are 18, I’m not exactly sure what you’ll be able to do going out with the older girls anyways.”

Mallory felt her eyes water. She knew she was the youngest and she hated it when she was reminded it of it like this.

“Lindsay said they were going to the movies first before they go to a bar. I can go to the movies with them Chris.”

Christen looked at the beggar eyes the tiny girl was giving her. All the women on the team seemed to have accepted that Mallory needed a lot of guidance and that because of the bond her and Christen developed, it would be the older forward to do so. Christen was in all intents and purposes Mallory Pugh’s guardian during the season.

“What time is the movie?”

Mallory’s eyes immediately moved to the floor. Should she lie? Last time she lied to Press about where she was she got 5 swift spanks to her bottom, which really hurt! Thank God the only person that saw it was Tobin. She’d be devastated if her friends knew that Press occasionally spanked her bum.

Although, most of the veteran women on the team already knew.

“Bug.” Christen crossed her arms across her chest. “What time?” She had a feeling it would be something she wouldn’t agree to.

“Ten.” Mallory mumbled whilst looking down at the floor.

The woman sighed, knowing how Mallory would react, but being the girls guardian meant so much more than making her happy, “I think you know my answer Mal. You’re going to be coming back way too late and you know tomorrow is a travel and media day. I’m sorry honey but you’re staying in tonight. I want you to get out of your training clothes, shower, and you and I can watch a movie if you’d like.”

Christen was well aware of how obstinate and cranky Mal was when running on little sleep, and they did not need that on a day like tomorrow.

The teenager balled her hands into fists, “You’re so unfair!! What if I go out anyway? You can’t stop me!”

Christen took a step forward that made Mallory gulp in fear. “Oh little girl you have another thing coming if-“

Her tirade stopped when someone stepped into the room.

“Hey you twooooo—-ohhhh what did I walk into?”

Tobin saw a clear standoff between the girl and woman. Christen looked at her best friend for a quick second before going back to glowering at Mallory.

“She won’t let me go watch a dumb movie because it starts at 10. It’s so stupid and she can’t make me!” Mallory stomped her foot to make her point. But she knew that Christen could absolutely make her do this, which is why she was so upset about it in the first place.

Mallory looked towards Christen, “I wanna go out with Lindsay and Emily! I don’t wanna stay here and watch a movie with you, mom!”

Tobin looked at her best friend who looked like she was ready to put little Mal Pal in her place.

Tobin put a hand on Mallory’s shoulder, “Mal you know that what mom says goes. Your parents, the coaches, every player here have agreed to that, and so did you. Right?”

Mallory huffed, refusing to look at any of the two women.

“Yes or no Mally?”

Mallory swallowed hard, unable to handle the two women glaring down at her. Plus, having all of her emotions coming close to the surface was not helping. She felt ready to just be alone so she finally nodded with a small sniffle.

“You’re staying bub.” Tobin spoke gently, “and that is that.”

Both women saw all the fight leaving her. Christen could see the frustrated tears well up in her little bug’s eyes. She frowned. God, sometimes this was just so hard. And lately, Mallory would agree. The past week the teen had been fighting Christen, it seemed like, at every turn. The girl didn’t want to admit it but the stress of her performing at everyone’s expectations was really getting to her. Everywhere she turned someone was asking her about her performance as the youngest player. But what would happen the day she didn’t perform? The day she royally fucked up? Would everyone still love her? Would mama still love her? What about her aunty Tobs?

“I-I’m gonna go shower.” The teenager said through more sniffles. She didn’t want Christen to see her cry because the woman would want to comfort her and Mallory would not be able to say no because she loved snuggles with her soccer mom. Even when Christen was upset at Mallory she could never not hold their tiniest player when she cried.

But that’s exactly what she was trying to avoid at the moment. She feared she wouldn’t be able to hold on her deepest fears. She feared she’d slip.

When Christen heard the bathroom door completely close she flopped down on the bed and stared up at the ceiling fan, “I think she’s gonna be the death of me Tobs.”

Tobin laughed and laid next to her friend, “Well if she kills you, I’ll have to kill her.”

“And if you kill her I’ll come back from the dead and kill you for hurting my baby girl.”

“There’s mama Press.” Tobin chuckled, rubbing Christen’s arm soothingly.

“She’s gonna be so grumpy the rest of the night.” Christen commiserated in a whisper.

“I can take her.” Tobin offered, “Her and I can finish binging the Office, you know Mallie loves it.”

“She’s so damn stubborn sometimes.”

“Come on Press, she’s kinda like you in that way.”

Press looked right at her friend and couldn’t help but laugh, “Yeah. I guess so.”

“So will you let me take her?”

Press sighed. She wished that Mallory would stay with her that night and they could have some mother daughter time. Christen could tell how much the teen needed it.

Mallory needed to destress, else it get the better of her either personally or on the pitch. And the mother knew that a certain 18 year old was fighting hard against her coping mechanism. Christen remembered the first time she had realized the way Mal needed to relax and forget the world. She remembered how she held her and let the teenager be young. Let her relax without inhibition.

But the more experienced forward also knew that Mallory was mad at her currently and she would not force it, “Of course, if she’s okay with it.”

And so Mallory held on to her anger throughout the rest of the night. She stayed with Tobin and only mumbled out a thanks when Press brought her stuffed giraffe and blankie around ten o clock. Though secretly she was so relieved because she didn’t want to ask if her aunt Tobin could get them for her at the risk of sounding far too juvenile. Her mother coming to drop her beloved items off was a much better option.

The teenager restrained an eye roll when she heard Christen mention to Tobin to not have her stay up past eleven.

Christen walked back around to Mallory and pressed a kiss on her forehead, “Goodnight baby. If you want to come back to our room and lay with me, you can. Love you.”

“Love you too.” Mallory conceded.

But despite that love the young girl still ignored her mother at breakfast and chose to sit with her friends. The teen had strategically taken all her things to Tobin’s room so she didn’t have to worry about facing the woman in the morning. She eyed her mother’s table, where Tobin and Alex were also sitting.

“Why does Press keep looking over here?” Rose asked.

Mallory shrugged, “I dunno.”

“She’s you’re mama, Mal Pal. She probably wants you.”

Mallory rolled her eyes, “Yeah, well, whatever.”

“Morning girls.” Came Christen’s voice a few moments later.

Well so much for avoiding her.

“Can you give me a moment with Mallie?”

“Yeah, yeah”

“Umm sure.”

Came the simultaneous answers from the table.

Mallory frowned as her mother took a seat by her. “You’re still mad at me, bubba?”

Mallory shrugged. Christen shook her head at her young charge’s antics. She slipped a bowl of yogurt, granola, and cut up fruit towards her.

“You need to eat more than just that sugary cereal Tobin told me you ate just now. We’re having a late lunch and I don’t want you complaining about being hungry.”

Mallory finally met her mother’s eyes and nodded, taking the yogurt and lazily putting a fork into the bowl. Her eyes lasering onto her food.

“Mal, hon?”

The sweetness in her mother’s voice forced her to look back up. The older striker could see that Mal hadn’t slept very well that night either. She tried to hide her worry.

Christen grabbed her daughter’s hands in hers, “I know we haven’t been seeing eye to eye lately. And I think we should talk about it tonight.”

Mallory groaned, “Mmmaaammmmaaa.” She whined, then immediately blushed realizing she’d fallen back to old patterns. She was trying to be tough damn it!

Christen bit back her smile. There was a part of the little girl she missed hearing.

“Yes, Mallory Diane. We’re talking. You’ve been out of sorts and it’s affecting you in more ways than one. Now finish eating that up. We’re loading the bus in fifteen minutes. Do you want me to bring down blankie or Steve? The ride is long.”

Mallory always fell asleep on long bus rides and her cuddle buddies kept her cozy and comfortable. Anyone on that bus could tell you that it was as if Mallory transformed from their star forward to their sweet baby girl in seconds when her blanket or stuffed animals

came into the picture.

Mallory’s eyes dashed around. Could Press be any louder?! Nobody needed to know what she called them!! ….everybody knew.

She nodded almost imperceptibly, “J-just blankie.”

Christen leaned in and smoothed the girls hair down, “okay, bug. I’ll see you on the bus.”

Christen looked at her phone’s time impatiently. Where was her child? They were about to head out and she didn’t want for Mallory to be the reason they were waiting.

“Where’s the kiddo?” Alex leaned over from behind Christen’s chair.

“Somewhere with Rose, making us late probably.” Christen murmured.

“Time to hold her hand again?” Alex half joked.

There was a one week time period when Mal was 17 where she was made to hold either Christen or Tobin’s hand wherever they went as a team.

The girl had previously lost track of time and lost the team members she was out with while they were in Europe and Jill was not happy about it. They had come to the decision to be mire intentional about watching Mal between the coaching staff and Christen. Needless to say Mal had learned her lesson. Or so they thought.

Christen chuckled, “Hey, Rose is with her too it’s not just my kiddo.”

Alex agreed, “Maybe I should hold hers too.”

Both women laughed at the prospect. Rose would buck and kick at that with all her strength. Mallory, although not always a fan at being treated the way she was, the youngest still thrived off the love and care that the women gave her. She needed it. She really did.

Rose and Mal came running towards the bus 5 minutes later.

“Sorry! Sorry!” They both said coming onto the bus and jumping into their usual seats next to each other a few rows behind Christen and Tobin.

Both had purposely avoided looking at the older women’s eyes, especially Christen’s.

“You know she keeps looking over here.” Tobin mentioned once they were on the road.

“Oh, I know. I might have Rose switch with me when we hit our first rest stop, by then she’ll be lulled by the ride enough to warrant a nap anyways.”

Tobin laughed, “you’re right.”

An hour later the bus hit a gas station and the chatter of the bus had died down to murmurs. Some of the women got out to use the restroom. Christen stood up and went over to Mallory who hadn't moved from her seat.

Christen looked down at her child. God, she looked so terribly young and so terribly tired.The woman was afraid the teenager might break down right there.

“You don’t have to potty, bug?”

Mallory shook her head trying to hide how her eyes widened at the phrase. She knew what her mom was trying to do. She didn’t want to slip!! Not now! Sometimes she did on the bus rides because nobody could really tell since she would just cuddle into Christen and fall asleep, but no, no, no!

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, geez.”

Christen bit her tongue not wanting to bait the girl into an argument, and saddened that her clearly exhausted child wasn’t allowing herself to be comforted.

She took in a deep breath and turned a bit more serious, “That’s the third time you end up late to the bus.”

The 18 years olds eyes made their way quickly to her mother’s. She frowned, “I know. It won’t happen again. I’m sorry.”

“I don’t want to have to go back to holding your hand sweetheart, but if that’s what I have to do-“

“Mom no! I don’t wanna!” Mal whispered, losing her nerve at her mother’s soft but stern tone and letting her instinct to talk childishly with Christen take over.

She wanted to be snuggled so bad by her mom right now, it almost hurt.

Press raised an eyebrow before schooling her features and leaning over to kiss her pouting child’s forehead, “Okay, okay. Shhhh. I’m warning you, that’s all. Just be mindful of time, alright?”

Mallory nodded, not wanting to speak. She’d probably burst out crying if she did.

“Do you want to sit next to me the rest of the way?”

Mallory’s eyes pleaded yes, but her response was a weak shake of the head. A shake that her mother read right through.

The woman would not push it though. Mallory needed to come to her. She turned behind her and grabbed the girl’s soft light yellow blanket. “Here bubba, take them just in case you want a nap and if you want to sit with me just come over and we can kick Aunty Tobs out her seat.”

The mother beamed when she was successful at making her kiddo giggle.

“You wanna sit with Mal?” Came Rose’s voice from next to Chrsiten.

“No, I was just talking to her. Go for it Rosie.” She gave Mallory a peck on the cheek and a gentle smile before moving back to her seat.

Mallory watched her mother go and sighed. Why hadn’t she said yes?

God, this was going to be a long day.