#at least give me the dramatic bursting windows and dancer get up YOU HAD ONE JOB

[nerice]

important screencaps 💜

[teamhook]

The song in your heart... Burlesque :|:CSMM

This is my second submission for the @captainswanmoviemarathon

Thanks to everyone in the Discord for letting me bounce ideas and for all the help.

Thanks to @ultraluckycatnd for Beta services :)

The story is loosely inspired by Burlesque, it will not be a retell of the movie. I hope you guys enjoy reading it.

Art by @allons-y-to-hogwarts-713

Summary: Small town girl Emma Swan moves to L.A. to follow her dreams. The best view on the Sunset Strip becomes her home. But is she bound to find true love in a dashing bartender? 

AO3

FFN

The bright sunlight is the first thing the blonde sees as she exits the bus station. This is what she had saved for. Hours of tedious work at that hole in the wall diner. Sure she didn't plan beyond the trip, but she couldn't help the smile that engulfed her face. This was her first step in making her dreams come true.

She secures her duffel bag after checking her money stash. First, she needs to find a place to sleep.

She really should have done some research before leaving Storybrooke. She pulls out her phone and does a quick search for cheap hotels. The thought of being in such a big city for a small-town girl should be scary, but there was no time for fear. I am not nothing, I was never nothing.

She can't believe she is riding in a taxi. Sure, she's from Maine, but even they've heard of Uber. The car stops suddenly. "Miss, we've arrived."

She looks out the window and smiles at the man. She hands him his fare. "Thank you." She grabs her bag and leaps out.

The hotel is the least expensive one she can find, and she pays for a week in advance. She's tired, so tomorrow her search for a job will start.

The next day, the blonde, Emma, is full of energy. She has been applying online but decides the old way can still work. First, she needs to get something to eat. She enters a small diner that reminds her of home and circles a few printed ads while she has her lunch.

She walks the Sunset Strip, trying her luck at a few bars looking for new talent with no luck. She sighs and makes her way to the next one. The day ended quickly as her feet clicked on the pavement.

The darkened street is lit by a lounge's marquee with inviting lights. On the balcony, a woman smiles. The blonde crosses the street hurriedly and her eyes fall onto the enticing poster calling for her to enter the lounge. The entrance walls are filled with images of old-timey beauties of the past along with great singers and dancers, and the music caught her attention, drawing her further in.

"We don't have windows but we do have the best view on the Sunset Strip. Twenty dollars, come on honey. Help a man out."

"Excuse me?" she replies as she was taken out of the enchantment of the music.

"Fill out this fine establishment," he smiles hopefully.

She looks around the jammed room and asks, "Is this a stripper club?"

"No, no. Darling, I should wash your mouth. You haven't seen anything like this before. You won't find a pole inside unless you count the waitress. Come on." He extended his hand out for the fee.

Emma bites her bottom lip. She digs into her jeans pocket, pulls out a twenty-dollar bill, and hesitantly hands it to him.

He smiles brightly and invitingly points to the lounge. "Enjoy!"

She's hesitant as she makes her way through the tables to the bar. The smile was instant; she loves music, it's her escape. She finds a stage with a group of beautiful women dancing and singing.

Show a little more

Show a little less

Add a little smoke

Welcome to Burlesque

The bar is full but what she really needs is a drink.

"Lass, can I get you something to drink?" an accented voice calls for her attention. Her green eyes meet dazzling blue ones surrounded by kohl that enhance the color; the auburn-highlighted, dark-haired scruff unable to hide the square jaw surrounding luscious lips.

She smiles. "Only if you're buying."

"Welcome to L.A. and the Burlesque Lounge." He smiles brightly as he hands her the drink.

"Uhm, thanks." She smiles and turns her eyes back to the stage.

"So where are you from?"

"Oh, from a small town in Maine. How about you?"

"Ah, from Boston."

"Boston, you don't sound like you're from there."

He laughs, "Aye, originally from London but moved to Boston years ago. I still can't rid myself of my accent, I'm afraid. Killian Jones, at your service."

"Emma Swan. So tell me, who do I have to flirt with to get up there?" she says as she points to the stage.

Killian scratches behind his ear as his attention is turned temporarily towards the waitress. "Sweetheart, how about doing your job?"

The girl giggles. "Yes, Captain," turning to go to the nearest table.

"Sorry about that, Emma Swan, and if that's you flirting, you are in dire need of lessons," he smirks.

"I'm sorry. I'm not about to waste my talents on someone who wears more eyeliner than me," she smirks back.

He laughs. "Fair enough. Through that door over there, flirt away, Swan. Ask for Cora."

"Thanks."

"Oh, and Swan? Use my name." Killian smiles and starts pouring some liquor into a glass.

"Thank you." She follows his directions.

Behind the doors, it's complete chaos; girls running around half-dressed, rushing to get ready for the next act, all talking at once.

"We're on in five minutes, five minutes, ladies. Come on..." a deep voice comes through the speakers.

"I'm almost done!" one of the girls yells.

"Ladies, tick-tock, time is almost up," Henry says.

"Does anyone know where Zee is?" Cora asks, annoyed.

"All spotlights are supposed to pull in!" Henry screams.

"Ashley, your boyfriend is so hot!" another dancer says.

Cora sighs. "Tonight, Netflix and Chinese?" she asks Henry.

"Yes, I wouldn't miss it." Henry smiles fondly.

"Cora, I lost a contact lens on stage," Rory says.

"Alright, if you fall off the stage just remember you're still a princess," Cora says.

"You're a goddess," Henry reminds her.

"Thank you, Henryyyy!" Rory says with a bright smile, while Cora rolls her eyes.

"Jonathan, the sink is broken, again."

"I'm not calling a plumber, Tiana," Jonathan declares. "Cora, we need to talk about this letter."

Cora sighs dramatically. "Jonathan, how many times do I have to say it? I don't want to discuss this while I'm working."

"Cora, Graham Humbert is coming tonight."

"And what do you want me to do?" Cora asks.

"This isn't going away, Cora. You never want to discuss this. You avoid me like the plague," Jonathan says, holding a paper.

"I didn't divorce you so I could spend more time with you."

"I still own half of this place," he says and walks away.

Emma timidly walks up to the woman she saw on stage earlier. She is sitting regally in front of her mirror putting make-up on.

"Why are you in my mirror?" Cora asks with a raised brow.

"Excuse me, are you Cora? I'm looking for her. I'm friends with Killian and I'm looking for work."

Cora continues to refresh her make-up. "Where have you danced?"

"In front of my mirror at home, but I can dance."

Cora sighs. "Leave your information with Henry. He will let you know when we're having our next audition." Cora points to Henry.

"Uhm, do you know when I should expect the call?" Emma asks.

"Henry?" Cora calls out.

"Where the hell is Zee? She is really late!" Henry says, annoyed.

Emma quickly says, "I'm never late."

"That's good to know," Henry says. "Sweetheart, leave your details with Killian, your friend, and we'll be in touch. We are currently trying to run a show here."

Emma smiles. "I have never seen anything like that before. I need a job and I really want to work here."

"Sweetheart, I love the enthusiasm, but it's really bad timing. We'll be in touch. Promise," Henry says with a warm smile.

"Let's move, ladies!" Henry turns to the dancers, finally in their costumes.

Emma starts to walk out deflated when the door bursts open and a fiery red-head enters.

Cora and Henry both turn to her, matching mock smiles on their faces. "We are so happy you could make it. You missed the opening act and we were saying how amazing it would be if you made it to the next one."

"Sorry, I'm late, but beauty like mine takes time," she smirked as she started getting ready for her number.

"You know what else takes time, Zee? Finding a new job," Cora says with a deadly glare.

Zee laughed. "Yeah, right! You wouldn't have a show without me and you know it." Looking towards Emma, she orders, "Hey you, waitress. Get me a sour-apple martini A.S.A.P." She snaps her fingers as if by magic the drink would appear in her hand.

"Zee, she doesn't work here," Ashley said, smiling.

"Then she isn't busy, is she?" The redhead turns her attention to her mirror.

Emma stares back at the rude woman.

"Didn't your mama teach you it wasn't polite to stare?" Zee said mockingly.

Emma gasps, "I just can't help myself. You are so breathtaking."

Zee laughs, "Well, at least you have good taste. Stare away."

"You know, no one would ever guess." Emma smiles.

"Guess what?" Zee glares.

"That you're a man. Not that there's something wrong with that." Emma shrugs as she walks away.

Zee shrieks. "You little-"

Henry and Cora interrupt, "Zee, the show must go on."

Emma's on her way back to the bar as she notices the waitress from earlier flirting with a customer and ignoring the other patrons calling for her.

After a few stops, Emma finds her way to the bar. "I'll have a vodka and a cosmo for the big guy over there."

"Swan, what are you doing?" Killian asks.

"Killian, give me a chance and I'll show you I'm way better than her. She is too busy flirting to do her job. If I'm not better, you don't have to pay me," Emma pleads.

Killian sighs, "Alright. Let's see what you've got."

The next day, as Ashley starts the routine to 'Diamonds Are A Girl's Best Friend', Cora and Henry look on. The lounge is busy and the patrons are enthralled by the act on stage.

A kiss on the hand

may be quite continental

But diamonds are a girl's best friend

"Henry, isn't that girl the one that was backstage yesterday?"

Henry smiles, "I believe so."

Cora turns her attention to Killian. "Why is she tending to the customers?"

"She really needed the job and now she is our new waitress," Killian says.

Cora looks at the bartender. "Killian, darling. When did I make you, head of Personnel?"

"She just picked up a tray and started taking orders," he says as he scratches behind his ear.

Henry mutters, amazed. "Really?"

"Her name is Emma," Killian says with a hint of a smile.

Cora calls out, "Emma, hey Emma." She waves the young girl over.

Emma walks with purpose as if she's ready to fight to keep her newfound job.

Cora stands up and looks Emma up and down. She sighs. "You need to maximize your assets; you got them, show them. Work them to your advantage. Oh, and Emma, don't ever go behind my back again." The warning was evident in the older woman's voice.

Emma smiled, "Yes, ma'am."

"Emma, don't ever call me ma'am again," Cora hissed.

A flustered Emma replies, "Yes, sir. No, I mean your Highness. Cora."

Cora shakes her head. "Get on the floor, and remember to work it."

Tiffany's!

Cartier!

Black, Starr, Frost Gorham!

"Excuse me," a masculine voice calls to Emma.

Emma smiles. "Yeah, what can I get you?"

"Dewar's 18 on the rocks and a bottle of Dom for the table, and keep them coming. Oh, and will you let Zee know I'm here?"

"I'm sorry and you are…?" Emma asks.

"A Platinum member, Graham Humbert. And you are?"

"Emma," she replies.

"Emma," he repeats as she walks away.

Zee rushes backstage as she struggles to finish getting into her costume. She finds Henry looking on. "I know I'm late, but better late than never. What is that waitress doing here? I want her gone!"

"What did she ever do to you?" Henry asks.

"She said I looked like a man!" she scoffs.

Henry smiles. "Well, that can't be the first time you've heard that. Zee, go get dressed for the next act. Ashley had to go on in your place."

Zee shrieks, "Merlin, my spotlight!" She goes on stage and once there, pushes Ashley out of the way as she dances and lip-syncs.

"Damn it, Zelena!" Henry yells, frustrated. That girl is going to give him a heart attack.

I've heard of affairs that are strictly platonic

But diamonds are a girl's best friend…

"Emma!" Killian calls out. "Swan, what do you need?"

Emma snaps out of her singing daydream. "Dewar's 18 on the rocks and a bottle of Dom-"

"And keep them coming?" he asks with a raised eyebrow.

"Yeah, so he is a regular then," Emma confirms.

"Graham Humbert, real estate tycoon and currently dating Zee," Killian says.

Emma sighs as her attention lands on the stage, "I wanna be up there."

He smiles as he finishes getting the order ready. "And do you have the talent?"

She nods, "Yes, I do."

"Good, you're up." He pushes the tray to her.

She rolls her eyes as she takes the tray.

He simply laughs.

Meanwhile, inside Cora's office in the back, Jonathan, Cora, and Graham are in conversation.

"Cora, the way I see it is simple. I assume all your financial obligations, and I pay you each five hundred thousand."

"Where is the partnership in that?" Cora turns to Jonathan.

"How about a partnership?" Jonathan asks Graham.

"Sorry, I'm not partner material. The deal is very generous. I leave with my final offer."

"Graham, tell me why is it that you want my club so badly?" Cora asks.

Graham shrugs. "I just like it, and when I see something I like, I have to have it."

"That must have made you very popular growing up as a kid," Cora snarks.

"I did okay."

"Cora, just think of what you could do with that money!" Jonathan says.

"You know what you can do with that money, Jonathan?"

"The way I see it is simple, you're in trouble and I'm in the position to help. We can all come out winners. Remember, you got that balloon payment due at the beginning of next month."

Cora turns angrily to Jonathan. "Seriously? Did you also tell him about the queen-of-hearts tattoo on my ass?"

"Of course not. This is just business."

"I don't think you will get another offer. At least not as generous as this one," Graham insists.

"Graham, I'm not interested. My club is not for sale," Cora says with finality.

"Think about it, the offer is on the table," Graham states before he leaves.

Zee has just returned backstage to get ready for the next number. as Emma arrives with drinks. "Ladies, here are your drinks!"

The girls stampede to get their drinks.

Cora makes her way through. "Wait one-second girls, which one of the drinks is Zee's?"

"Tom Collins and the shot," Emma replies.

Zee tries to grab the drink, but Cora beats her to it and drinks it with a smile on her face. "Here's mud in your eye, Zee.

Now I got a buzz, and you gotta change, you're on," Cora says.

"Just because you're my mother doesn't mean you can tell me what to do." Zee crosses her arms.

"Zee just go get ready," Cora demands with a look that could stop a beating heart.

Zee leaves in a huff.

Henry approaches Cora. "Honey, I don't know if you noticed, but was Jonathan talking to Graham Humbert?"

Cora sighs. "That would be because Graham wants to buy my club."

"Are you serious?" Henry replies.

Meanwhile, Emma hesitantly approaches the duo after hyping herself by the door.

"Cora, I was hoping I could run an idea by you," she stammers, "on how to make the show better. I know you are really busy but-"

"Speaking of the show, have you talked to Dave about the new vocals?" Henry asked Cora as he looked over the costumes.

"Vocals, that's exactly what I was trying to talk to you about." Emma smiles. "None of the girls sing, they lip-sync."

"Except for Cora," Henry states as he turns all his attention to Emma.

Emma lets out a nervous laugh. "Right, except for Cora. I just think the audience would really love it if the girls would sing and dance."

Cora stands in front of Emma. "No, they wouldn't."

"Honey, the people come here to watch the dancers dance and lip-sync to the greats." Henry grabs Emma and guides her to the door.

Emma tries for one last attempt to make her case. "I just think this would work, I don't understand why we can't try something new."

"Because it's above your paygrade," Cora says. "Henry, please remove her."

"Emma, honey, I think your friend Killian needs you back," Henry says as he gives her the final push outside the door.

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[mithranqueersmusings]

Before This Dance Is Through I

Chapter: 1/16

Rating: T

Summary: Ringo's being going through a dry spell for the last year or so and when he regretfully tells his best friend John, he insists on taking them to an all-male strip club for some "fun". Ringo isn't sure whether it's the alcohol, his desperation or a mixture of the two but he thinks he might be falling in love with a stripper.

Tags: AU - Strippers, Modern Setting, Smut, Slow Burn

Pairings: George Harrison/Ringo Starr, John Lennon/Paul McCartney

AO3 link here / Fic masterlist here

It had been over a year since Ringo had sex, but the only thing worse than that was telling his best friend John drunkenly one night. John never seemed to have any trouble finding someone to sleep with, it was like second nature to him, but still neither of them seemed to be making any progress in the relationship department. Ringo had never been a massive fan of one night stands, but at this point he'd take anything he could get; John on the other hand seemed to prefer them, the amount of notifications he got on his phone from Grindr or Tinder, or whatever new app he was trying out, was astounding. In general John was more open - and obvious - about his sexuality, sporting a pin that read 'sword swallower' almost every time they went out. Ringo wasn't ashamed to be gay, that was far from the truth, but he just never seemed to align with the more flamboyant expression that a lot of gay men tended to follow. Despite all this, it didn't stop him from allowing John to drag him out to Pride every year covered in glitter and cheap boas, or to a gay club every other weekend, or in tonight's strange case: a strip club.

The two of them tried to meet up at least once a week to have a catch-up and tonight was one of those nights, it had started with dinner at Ringo's place but ended up - as it often did - at the pub. John was very open about his sex life, Ringo didn't particularly mind but recently it had been bothering him since he had no stories of his own to share. It was difficult to pinpoint exactly why it had been so long, it seemed like in the blink of an eye a few months had turned into over a year. He was just always so busy with work and when he wasn't working he was either sleeping or with John, there was just no room for another person; although his bed did feel incredibly empty. Ringo knew that all it would take would be to follow John's confident lead, to get dressed up - or down - and to seek somebody out in the club, or even try one of his "dating" apps, but as he got older Ringo just didn't feel incredibly comfortable doing that. He had begged John to not drag them out to a club that night, which he begrudgingly agreed to, but it then lead to the dreaded question.

"Well how long has it been since..." John finished the sentence with a raise of his eyebrow.

"Since what?" Ringo chuckled nervously behind his drink.

"Since you had a good shag." John widened his eyes dramatically, stretching his neck forward.

"Erm... Not that long." Ringo mumbled then desperately took a sip of his beer.

"Jesus, that long?" John tutted and leaned back in his chair "Why didn't you tell me? I could've set you up with someone."

"No offence but I'm not massively interested in your 'friends'." Ringo bent his first two fingers to make air quotes.

"There you go again talking about 'interested in', it's just sex Ringo!" John raised his voice a little, a telltale sign he was getting drunk.

"Keep your voice down, Jesus." Ringo hissed "I'm just sick of all the meaningless sex, alright?"

"You say meaningless like it's a bad word." John chuckled then sighed when he saw Ringo's disapproving look "Fine, fine. But that doesn't mean we still can't have some fun tonight."

"No, John. I am not in the mood for a club tonight." Ringo said plainly.

"I didn't say anything about a club." John grinned in his signature way, a way that made Ringo panic.

"What then?" Ringo asked cautiously.

"Well..." John began, drawing out the word "There's a little place I've been frequenting that might interest you."

"Out with it, Lennon." Ringo rolled his eyes with a small laugh.

"Just hear me out, okay? Because as soon as I say the word you're instantly gonna say no." John had put his drink down now, meaning he was being 'serious'.

"What word?" Ringo huffed.

"Strip club." John spoke quickly "That's two words but you get my point."

"No." Ringo said simply.

"Come on! Why not?" John whined, reaching his hand forward to pull at Ringo's sleeve.

"Because I don't want to. The last thing I need is some lad giving me a lap dance and I cum like that." Ringo clicked his fingers to emphasise his point which made John laugh.

"You're so modest." John giggled "It'll be fun, I swear. If you don't want any meaningless sex or whatever, you may as well go the next extreme."

"That makes no sense." Ringo was trying not to smile but it was difficult with John.

"Look, you're probably gonna go home tonight and wank to some boring, twinky porno, right? How's it any different to go and watch some beautiful, twinky dancers in real life? I'll tell you how it's different, it's better." John had begun pointing his finger with almost every word.

Ringo sat in silence for a moment then burst into laughter "I hate that you know me so well."

"I'm your best friend, it's my job. It's also my job to get you out of this rut you've gotten yourself into, and if you won't let me set you up with anyone and I'm guessing you won't let me get you a prostitute..." John paused and looked at Ringo with hopeful eyes.

"No." Ringo scoffed.

"Then you have to at least let me take you to this strip club. It's not that seedy, I promise. There's some gorgeous guys there, and I mean gorgeous. You don't even need to get a lap dance or anything if you don't want to, we can just sit at the back and drink, just like we're doing now." John retained his hopeful gaze.

Ringo paused once again, screwing up his face slightly in thought then let out a heavy breath "Fine."

"Really?" John almost gasped.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever. I'm just about drunk enough to go along with this." Ringo laughed "Let's just go now before I change my mind."

The two of them downed what was left in their drinks and headed out into the night. Ringo pulled his coat close to his body as they walked down the street, John leading the way excitedly; Ringo couldn't remember the last time he'd seen him so happy. It was cold enough to justify getting an Uber, but Ringo didn't think he'd enjoy the knowing look on the driver's face when he dropped them off at a strip club. The walk to the gay quarter of the city was a familiar one, it was almost exclusively where John spent his time therefore where Ringo would find himself at the end of most of their nights together. Ringo was aware of a few more 'adult' establishments in this part of town but sometimes it was hard to tell the difference between what was a sex shop and what was merely a gay bar with a raunchy name. It didn't take too long before they'd arrived outside a fairly large building painted all black with neon trimmings around the doors and windows and a few people outside smoking; they passed John a knowing nod which Ringo was hardly surprised by.

"The Helter Skelter?" Ringo asked as he read the sign, turning to John.

John shrugged his shoulders "It's phallic, I suppose."

The inside looked considerably less questionable than the exterior, but it was also incredibly dark. As they entered one of the bouncers greeted John warmly, and Ringo was certain he'd seen him in the morning at John's at least once or twice. The music was loud to say the least, it probably wasn't any louder than it was at the club but the whole atmosphere made everything seem more claustrophobic. There were two bars that Ringo could see, one near the entrance and one towards the back which gave a better view of the main stage. The scantily dressed men hadn't caught Ringo's eye immediately, though he was consciously trying not to stare, but once he noticed them it was hard to ignore; almost all of the men walking around were shirtless, some of them in nothing but a jockstrap and a bow-tie or a hat - Ringo wasn't sure whether that was meant to be sexy or comical. He suddenly felt very aware of his presence and couldn't feel like he could walk much further than the door, but John was already sauntering in like he owned the place, which he probably wished he did. John turned around when he noticed Ringo wasn't beside him, gave him a frustrated look and hurried back over to his side.

"What's wrong? Cock got your tongue?" John winked but it didn't help Ringo relax in the slightest.

"I should probably go home." Ringo murmured, he didn't feel like he had full control over his mouth.

"Don't be a git, we're here now. Let's just get a drink and observe, okay?" John didn't wait for a response, instead he practically dragged Ringo over to the bar.

The bartender offered John his usual and Ringo ordered the same, not knowing exactly what he was ordering but his brain didn't feel able to process the question.

"How often do you come here?" Ringo asked when the bartender turned around to make their drinks.

"Not as often as I'd like." John was already perusing the crowd.

"But why?" Ringo turned his back to the club, feeling unable to look at the spectacle on the main stage.

"I dunno, I just like it. Mixes it up a little. It's an art, you know? But its like... sexy art." John rambled and Ringo couldn't help little out a low chuckle.

"Sexy art? Sometimes I wonder why I'm still friends with you." Ringo mumbled.

The bartender returned with their drinks and the two of them muttered a thanks, Ringo began drinking it desperately to calm his nerves. Out of the corner of his eye he could see John mouthing words to someone across the room, as much as he told himself he didn't want to know what was happening he couldn't help turning in his seat to get a better look. On the other side of the club was a man meeting John's gaze and mouthing back at him, he was holding a tray of drinks and serving a group of men without breaking eye contact. Once the tray was cleared the man gave a smile to the customers then began walking over to the two of them. He was one of the few men actually wearing a shirt but his bottom half was almost entirely exposed, wearing tight, black shorts and boots with a sleeveless, white shirt with a black bow-tie to match, it was supposed to be some kind of a 'sexy waiter' costume Ringo guessed. He had a very pretty face, Ringo had to admit, with dark hair and large, doe eyes and a fairly slim body; yet the petite appearance he had was counteracted by his body hair, of which there was quite a lot, with his arms and legs covered. Ringo wasn't trying to stare but it was difficult when someone looked so inviting, but the man hadn't given a single glance to Ringo as he walked over, rather his eyes were fixed on John's entirely.

"Fancy seeing you here." The man spoke, he had quite a soothing voice.

"Haven't scared me off just yet." John grinned but then turned to look at Ringo "Where are my manners? This is my mate, Ringo. It's his first time in a strip club, can you believe it?"

"Virgin, eh?" The man laughed "Well we'll have to make sure you have a good time tonight, won't we?"

Ringo felt his face getting a little hot with the man looking directly at him, he let out a nervous laugh "I'll probably just stick to drinking."

"Come off it, we're gonna get you a lovely lad." John nudged him playfully then turned back to the man "Who's working tonight?"

"Same old. Except, we do have a newbie that started two weeks ago." The man smiled somewhat devilishly "He moved over from the joint that shut down, what was it called..."

"Honey Pie?" John replied a little too quick.

"That's the one. Awful name." The man chuckled.

"I can agree with that." Ringo spoke after taking a final sip from his drink, signalling to the bartender to get another.

"Well he's up on stage next I think, in a few minutes or so." He gestured to the stage where a man was currently on all fours twerking to a Britney Spears song "Could give you some time alone, Ringo, while I take care of your friend here."

Ringo gulped and looked over to John who had his eyebrows raised suggestively "No harm in looking, I suppose."

"That's the spirit, Rings." John smirked "We'll just finish up our drinks, when the new guy's up I'll come and grab you, yeah?"

"Sure thing, love." The man winked then headed back off into the club.

Ringo had already almost finished his second drink, gripping tightly onto the glass as though it would crush his nerves somehow. John slapped him on the back warmly, ordered a second drink for himself and leaned on the bar so that he could get a view of both Ringo and the rest of the room.

"You two seem to get along." Ringo had tried to sound jokey but the tension in his body was immense.

"Oh yeah, me and Paulie go way back." John chuckled.

"Paulie?" Ringo asked.

"Well his name's Paul but you know me, I love my pet names." John finished the last drop of his first drink.

"Not much of a stripper name is it? Paul." Ringo chuckled quietly.

"Well he's a stripper and his name is Paul." John was looking at Ringo a little worriedly "What should he be called?"

"I guess you're right. I just figured it was like porn stars or something." Ringo let out a heavy breath and tried to straighten his back, he'd been huddling over the bar as though it would protect him somehow.

"Well you better not make that mistake again. That'll get you kicked out before you can say 'latex jockstrap'." John picked up his second drink now.

"Why do I feel like you're doing this to punish me?" Ringo groaned.

"Loosen up, Ringo. Let's get another drink in you and we'll see how you feel, yeah? I'll stay with you if you want but I figured you might be a little more comfortable without me hovering around." John motioned to the bartender for another round "All you have to do is sit back and watch the bloke dance, is that so hard?"

"It might be hard, that's the problem." Ringo laughed, he felt himself loosening up a little.

"I wouldn't worry about that, they probably take it as a compliment. Hell if I was grinding on a bloke's lap and he didn't even get a semi I think I'd slap him one." John patted Ringo on the back again, a lot harder than he probably intended.

John continued trying to get Ringo to relax for the next several minutes and it seemed to work, although Ringo felt the alcohol was the main factor, and it wasn't too long before the stage was emptied and a voice came over the club announcing the next dancer: Spike.

"Spike?" Ringo asked with a giggle.

"Oh so Paul isn't stripper enough but Spike is too stripper? Make your mind up." John got up from his seat and motioned Ringo to do the same.

They headed over to the seats that surrounded the stage, Ringo wanted to sit at the back but John shoved him forward to the front. Before he vanished off in search of Paul, he reached into his pocket and fished out a couple crumpled notes which he then thrust into Ringo's hand. Ringo stood there dumbfounded for a moment before music began playing and he quickly sat down in a chair, he regretted how close he was to the stage immediately but he figured it might look a little insulting if he moved now. He tried looking around for John but he was nowhere to be seen, neither was Paul for that matter.

Ringo recognised the song quickly, it was 'Fame' by David Bowie and it was some consolation that the music was at least familiar but then he began to worry whether he'd be able to listen to it again without this memory coming back to his mind. He didn't have very long to worry because someone was walking out onto the stage, and Ringo swore for a moment his heart stopped. Spike, although Ringo seriously doubted that was his real name, was absolutely gorgeous. He came out in a mesh vest and purple baggy trousers, his dark hair was slightly coiffed - an attempt to give him a Bowie look - and his face was insanely chiselled. Ringo's mouth dried up almost immediately and he cursed himself for not bringing a drink with him, a part of him wanted to get up from his seat and rush out of the club but an even larger part was desperate to stay, to watch.

Spike made his way slowly down the stage, swaying his supple hips as he walked, a serious and sultry look in his eyes. There was a fixed pole in the middle of the stage which he gradually moved over to, standing in front of it then lowering himself down to the ground with his legs spread wide with one hand ghosting over the pole and the other running down the inside of his thigh. Some of the other men in the club had already begun whooping, yet Ringo didn't feel like he could make a noise if he tried. Spike then began thrusting his hips slowly into the air, rolling them in a circle with his mouth slightly hanging open. He lowered himself onto the stage floor so that he was balancing on his knees, he straightened his back and ran the hand that had previously been gripping the pole to run over his chest. His slender fingers began toying with the fabric at the bottom of the vest, his other hand mirroring the first, and he raised his eyebrows just slightly in the direction of a group of men who called out incoherently to answer the unasked question. Then the vest was peeled off his body agonisingly slow revealing a toned chest beneath it, and Ringo suddenly realised he'd been clenching his fists tight enough that his nails had begun to leave marks.

Ringo swore he was feeling light headed, his vision felt a little fuzzy and his heart was racing. Spike had continued moving his hips to the beat of the song, one hand roaming over his now bare chest. Much to Ringo's dismay he began walking off the stage into the crowd, first heading over to the group of men Paul had been serving earlier to collect the notes they were eagerly waving in the air. There weren't too many people in the club, it was a Wednesday night after all, which meant Ringo wasn't as hidden as he'd like to be. When he saw Spike turning his gaze to look at him, a bank note currently between his teeth, he felt his heart drop. Both of his fists were clenched in his lap and his heartbeat sounded almost as loud as the music, but worst of all he was hard. Shit. If it would've looked rude to have moved seats earlier, it would have been like a spit in the face if he got up and walked away now.

Ringo wasn't sure if Spike could see the intense panic he was currently experiencing, perhaps that was the very reason he was coming over. He continued to sway his hips as he walked, his brooding eyes fixed unshakably onto Ringo's, a small smirk on his thin lips. Spike looked Ringo up and down, his tongue darting over what looked like rather sharp teeth, before he turned his back on him and began lowering himself down onto his lap. No contact was made, instead he hovered painfully close over Ringo's growing erection, grinding his hips with his hands sliding over the silky material of his trousers. It was torture, but just about bearable. Ringo was gripping the arms of the chair ridiculously tightly, he wondered if he'd be able to break them through the power of his panic alone. He focused on controlling his breathing, but it was increasingly difficult when Spike looked over his bare shoulder and licked his top lip sinfully. You can do this, Ringo kept telling himself, and he almost believed it until things got much, much worse. There was a ripping sound and Ringo felt all the air leaving his body, he couldn't even prevent the rather pathetic moan that left his lips; Spike had torn off his trousers in one fluid motion, throwing the discarded fabric onto the stage, revealing nothing but a jockstrap underneath.

The group of men began cheering again, one of them urging Spike to come back over but he didn't pay them much attention. Instead he turned back around to face Ringo which only made things more difficult - hard would've been a better word to use - with Spike's bulge almost eye-level with Ringo and his sharp face looking down at him. Ringo looked up to meet his dark eyes and felt like he could've orgasmed then and there from a single touch but before he could get too used to the sight, Spike was returning to the stage. Ringo had no idea how a single song had managed to last this long, but apparently it had, and he was almost certain he couldn't survive another minute of it. When Spike had begun wrapping himself around the pole, Ringo forced himself to get up from the seat and find the nearest bathroom to cool off. While a part of him was still worried about appearing disrespectful, he wasn't quite prepared to be reduced to a pile of sweat and moans in front of all those people.

In the bathroom, which was thankfully empty, he splashed his face with cold water and stared at his face hard in the mirror to gain some sense of normality. Part of him wished he'd be able to hide in there until the club closed but unfortunately that wasn't a valid option. He took a few deep breaths and headed out of the bathroom, making a beeline to the bar near the entrance and ordering a drink immediately. Spike was still on stage dancing to another Bowie number, but Ringo forced himself not to look. Two drinks later and Ringo felt an all-too-familiar slap on his back as John reappeared into his sight.

"What you doing sulking over here?" John asked, he had a very satisfied grin on his face "You're missing the show!"

"Fuck you." Ringo chuckled, the glass in his hand was almost empty.

"What? Why?" John scoffed.

"Look at him, he almost killed me!" Ringo gestured drunkenly over to the stage.

"Jesus, I'll be honest I didn't expect him to look like that." John snickered "You can't tell me you didn't enjoy it."

"A little too much, if I'm honest." Ringo sighed "But right now I'd love to go home and have a very, very cold shower."

"You sure I can't tempt you to a private dance?" John nudged him.

"No." Ringo said firmly, but his speech was a little slurred "Home, now."

"Fine, suit yourself." John groaned "Did you at least give him some money?"

Ringo paused for a moment then reached into his pocket, pulling out the same notes John had given him "Oh, suppose I forgot. My mind was a little preoccupied."

"Who raised you?" John scoffed, snatching the money back "The money's not for you."

"You do owe m-" Ringo began but John cut him off.

"Don't start with that." John was looking out across the room again and motioned for Paul to come over.

"You want another one already?" Paul purred after hurrying over and looking down at the money.

"Not tonight, love." John winked "Can you pass this on to the new fella, Ringo was too busy trying not to cream his pants that he forgot to tip him."

Paul looked over at Ringo with a smug smile "Enjoyed the show then?"

"Depends on your definition of 'enjoyed'." Ringo mumbled into his drink.

"I'll make sure it gets to him." Paul swore as he took the notes from John and tucked them into the waistband of his shorts, Ringo debated how hygienic that was, then disappeared into the club once again.

There was a silence between the two of them for a while before John began to laugh for no real reason, and Ringo couldn't prevent the contagious nature of it, so the two of them sat laughing at the bar for a few minutes. When the silence fell again, Ringo was the first to speak.

"Now can we go home, please?" Ringo urged, discarding his empty glass on the bar.

"Fine, fine. Thanks for coming with me tonight, and more importantly: you're welcome." John got up from his seat and Ringo sluggishly followed him.

"For what?" Ringo asked.

"For giving you something new to wank about." John giggled.

[ipaintwithwords]

Christmas Short Story Exchange

Wolves Without Teeth

Fandoms: Life is Strange, Life is Strange 2 Characters: Sean Diaz, Lyla Park, Daniel Diaz, Chloe Price, David Madsen (mention), Brody Holloway (mention) Tags: Post-Redemption Ending, Post-Save Arcadia Bay Ending, light angst with happy ending, mentions of depression/antidepressants, reminiscing, ambiguous/open ending, POV heavy, pretty scenery and dogs and ghosts

And I run from wolves breathing heavily at my feet And I run from wolves tearing into me without teeth

♪♫♪♫♪♫

*

Millions of stars lit up the vast, deep indigo canvas of the night sky along the coast of Oregon. It was a quiet, peaceful night, the kind that was made for intimate strolls and heartwarming conversations and marveling at the beauty of the ocean, hand in hand, barefoot on the shore, accompanied by the light April breeze and the soft whispers of the waves. It was made for campfires and laughter, grilled fish and cold beer, and acoustic guitar covers of songs that people don’t listen to enough on Spotify, even though they really should - it was a night made for moments ephemeral and eternal at the same time, a series of overexposed polaroid images in the sand. 

However, for the young man driving under the endless rows of majestic pine trees, the night was but a spectacular backdrop for his hours spent on the road. Slightly more memorable than the day before, and infinitely longer than any other day of the past week he’s spent driving, one hand on the wheel, the other one either stroking the gentle crosswind with a cigarette between his fingers or buried in the thick, brown fur of the adolescent wolfdog snoozing on the passenger’s seat, curled up like a content, well-fed little roll with her favorite blanket between her front paws. 

That night, he was holding onto the wheel with both hands. Eyes fixated on the highway, his anxiety was skyrocketing in his chest, flooding the back of his mind with dark thoughts and his head with an unbearable migraine, building up slowly but steadily, creeping into his skull, even the empty - and otherwise numb - socket of his left eye. Not that he was a stranger to headaches, but unlike all his past encounters with nasty migraines, this time he had no idea what to blame: the cigarettes, the lack of sleep, all the synthetic food he shoved down his throat the past few days, his ridiculous deadline drawing near by the minute… Or perhaps the fact that for the first time in fifteen agonizingly long years, he was back on a road he never thought will see again. 

The only difference was that this time, he was on his own. There was no comforting presence beside him, no hula dancer figurine on top of the dashboard, no excited chatter coming from a kid high on adrenaline on the backseat. It was just him and the shores of Oregon, his sad music and his snoring dog (who wasn’t exactly the chatty kind, which, honestly speaking, never truly bothered him; he adopted her for the very same reason) and this stubborn, intrusive, demanding migraine that seemed to have made a cozy little home for itself in his forehead like it was meant to live out the rest of its life under his skin. And somehow, it managed to grow even stronger when out of the blue, the music was interrupted by the steady, low buzzing of his phone.

All of a sudden, violent waves of frustration crashed down over him as he took a quick glance at the device’s screen. Tightening his grip on the wheel until his nails started digging irritated crescents into the faux leather, he grit his teeth while staring at his phone, its buzzing resonating in his temples as if someone was trying to drill into his brain. The buzzing lasted for a solid two minutes before the screen would finally turn dark again and the pulsating sensation in his temples quieted down a little - only giving him a few moments of calm and quiet, though, as his phone started ringing again the moment he was about to sigh in relief.

“Oh for fuck’s sake!”, he grunted loudly in anger, waking the peacefully sleeping wolfdog pup with either his hoarse voice or the annoyed dash of his hand as he reached out for his phone to pick up the incoming call and be over with it as fast as possible. He knew exactly what’s coming for him, and he was in the mood for anything but fighting with his best friend on the phone right now. 

“What the fuck, man?!”, hissed a young woman on the other end of the call with a furious whisper-shout, as soon as he pushed the green button. “Are you being serious with me right now? Where the fuck are you, Sean?”, she hissed, and Sean heard a door slamming shut behind her, most likely the backyard door, to be precise, as she stormed out of the kitchen for a smoke.

“You knew I’ll be busy this weekend”, much to his surprise, he magically managed to keep his voice calm and his words collected when he answered after a few moments of hesitation. “I DMed you and I also texted the group chat yest-”

“Yeah, and I thought you’re just trying to back out of going to Walmart with us!”, his feeble attempt of coming up with explanations was met with an angry snap from the young woman. “And I actually can’t believe that we’re having this conversation? Like I can’t comprehend the fact that for whatever fucked up reason, you are actually ditching your own brother’s birthday weekend”, she scoffed, lighting up a cigarette with two impatient click-clacks of a cheap 7-Eleven lighter. 

“I have a deadline, Lyla, and it seems like you’re the only person who can’t accept that”, answered Sean with a deep, resigned sigh, only trying to resist the sudden urge of smoking for a brief second before he rolled down the window and reached for his cigarette case. “I talked to Daniel about it, alright? He was the first person I called”, he murmured under his nose, shoving a crooked cigarette between his lips. “And to be honest, I still don’t understand why you guys insisted on throwing this huge ass party for him for an entire weekend... Y’all know he prefers his PS4 and pizza over twenty of us being all over him for three days, right?”

“Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t realize it was me who’s about to ruin his birthday! Fuck, man, thanks, now I can see that it was me all along”, Lyla let out a burst of dry laughter, more threatening than the sharpest blades in the world. “You are unbelievable, Sean.”

“I’m doing everyone a favor by skipping, y’know”, said Sean, sticking his hand out the window, unleashing the tiny smoke-dragons of his cigarette into the night. “‘Cause let’s be real, we both know that it’s me who’d ruin his birthday” he added with a shrug, making Lyla snort in disbelief.

“I can’t think of a single reason why his favorite person in the world would do that, so please enlighten me with your wisdom, Sean-Wise”, suddenly, her tone softened, bringing a massive lump to Sean’s throat. 

“The last thing he needs right now is his useless, depressed brother”, he answered quietly, unable to resist the suffocating grip of anxiety on his neck. “And thankfully, he understands that his useless, depressed brother needs to submit an unreasonable amount of work ‘til next Wednesday, so… Yeah. We’re both doing each other a favor, to be honest.”

“Sean, I… Useless? Why would y- What do you even… Hollup for a sec” sighed Lyla, slightly frustrated, as a small voice suddenly called for her. “Yes, baby, what’s up?”, she said, words and smile warmer than the morning sun, and Sean couldn’t help but smile too when he heard her switch to Korean the next moment, most likely reaching for her daughter Hannah, and gently pushing a strand of dark, silky hair behind her ear like she always did. 

“Sorry for that, Miss Thing is getting cranky because she only ate five times today”, Lyla returned to the call after a good minute, and Sean could clearly see her roll her eyes as the door shut close behind Hannah. “So where were we…”

“You were about to give me a Ted Talk on self-love because I called myself useless”, said Sean with a faint smile, before carefully flicking the cigarette butt out the window. Lyla didn’t answer immediately, at least not with words - her silence, on the other hand, was heavy with worry, a calm before the storm Sean knew too well. After all, thirty-three years of friendship teaches a thing or two about another person, especially a friendship like theirs was. 

“You know, I had a feeling this is gonna happen”, when Lyla finally broke the silence, she couldn’t conceal the sad, resigned bitterness in her voice. “At least tell me where you are, man…”

“I’m in Oregon… Driving along the coast, actually”, Sean answered, giving his dog an affectionate scratch behind the ear, and making her turn her all-knowing, golden eyes from the night view on him. “Don’t worry, I’m not alone. Chestnut’s here too.”

“Dude, she didn’t even bark when she heard my voice”, said Lyla, with a very obvious and even more dramatic pout on her face. “But wait, what the fuck are you doing there? In Oregon?”, she asked, and this time, it was her confused frown that Sean could see crystal clear as if Lyla was sitting right next to her. 

For a brief moment, he truly wished she was.

“I’m chasing ghosts”, when he spoke eventually, it felt as if there was someone else talking with his mouth, unseen powers forcing the air out of his lungs and his tongue and teeth to form the words that echoed for a seemingly endless moment in the car and inside Sean’s head. 

And before he could even blink, the echo sunk even deeper, into the darkest pits of his scarred, hurt, lonely soul, as he found himself staring at the unmistakable silhouette of Arcadia Bay in the distance after a slight turn in the road.

*

He spent the night at Otter Point, in his car, right next to the very same visitors plaque he broke down at, for the first time since fleeing Seattle on that nightmarish afternoon all those years ago, to a man he just met - a man who changed everything, although fifteen years later, Sean wasn’t sure anymore that it was for the better. He wasn’t sure whether he’d still be alive at all if it wasn’t for Brody and his golden heart that night, but he was certain of one thing: that compared to all the horrible things that happened to him, to them, death would’ve been but a merciful release.

Death didn’t come for them, however, at least not in its form that’s known to most people. Instead of taking them, it decided to befriend the Wolf Brothers and tag along on their journey, from the suburbs of Seattle to the iron gates of the Mexican border - and after that, the lifeless, ashen grey walls of a suffocatingly small prison cell in Washington. It was there that night too, in Sean’s car, a worn, cherry-red station wagon just like Brody’s, and inside his head, too, buried deep under the quiet, unsteady chaos of his thoughts. It was in every breath he took, every pill he swallowed, every minute he spent awake wondering what is he even doing, and there was nothing, absolutely nothing that could make it go away, that could make death change it’s stubborn mind and to leave Sean Diaz alone, because, throughout the years, it simply grew too fond of him.

And with time, Sean just… Accepted it. He accepted being handpicked by death itself and stopped fighting it because no matter how hard he tried to avoid it, to get rid of it, to pretend that everything was fine, nothing helped; nothing but the acceptance and the handfuls of numbing bitterness he consumed at least two yellow tubes of each month for the past, God knows how many years. Of course, things could’ve been a lot worse, and Sean was fully aware of that - he knew that he was extremely privileged for being able to settle back into society relatively easily after being released from his sentence of nearly two decades spent in one of the country’s biggest federal prisons. 

Frankly speaking, it wasn’t about settling back into society as much as it was about doing something he secretly always dreamed of, even before the story of the Wolf Brothers began on that chilly Friday afternoon, in a completely ordinary, perfectly average October of a past, long-lost life. In fact, if someone told sixteen-year-old Sean that everything that’s about to happen to him will eventually lead to a new life in which he is a comic book artist who gets paid for drawing the weird shit in his head, sixteen-year-old Sean would’ve probably laughed until his stomach hurt and happy tears started rolling down his cheek.

And yet, there he was that morning, on top of a hill above the Oregon coast, moderately enjoying his cheap instant coffee in the back of his station wagon (and after a glance at his peaky-faced reflection in the mirror, extremely judging his lack of self-discipline regarding taking care of his beard) while waiting for his tablet to charge fully so he can proceed with the next strips for the fifth chapter of The Adventures of the Pack. Chestnut was running around in excited circles, chasing grasshoppers and butterflies and occasionally, her tail, not particularly minding either her owner or the breathtaking view of the coast, and along with it, the quiet town of Arcadia Bay. 

At first, he didn’t even think of making a stop at a seemingly insignificant place like Otter Point on his not-so-spontaneous journey - for some much-needed inspiration or for bittersweet reminiscence, he wasn’t entirely sure anymore -, but while going through dozens of maps and routes and painful memories on a sleepless night before his trip, he stumbled upon a picture Daniel sent him for one of his birthdays spent in prison. A picture from Away, to be precise, of a cozy little bonfire and four people with marshmallow sticks in their hands and tipsy smiles on their faces - a picture that kept him up awake for the whole night, with tears stuck halfway in his throat, desperately trying to fight their way through the walls Sean has built around himself. And the moment he saw David in the picture, he decided that after all the phone calls and visits and almost fatherly check-ins from the man throughout the past fifteen years, the least he can do is stopping in David’s hometown for a quick page or two on his way down South. 

“Man, it must be tough being you”, Sean chuckled as he put his empty mug on the small writing desk in the corner of his on-the-go bedroom, looking at Chestnut playing in the dry dirt alongside the road with a wide, amused smile on his face. “Careful, though… I’d rather not break my neck trying to rescue you if you fall down” he added, climbing out of the back of his car with nimble reflexes, the sudden movement answered with excited bark coming from the wolfdog pup. 

“Would you look at that”, said Sean with an impressed little snort, walking up to the fence and bending over to rest his arms on it, eyes roaming the endless, unbelievably blue ocean and the gentle waves washing up against the pale sands of Arcadia Bay’s shores. “Can’t decide if it’s beautiful or the most boring shit I’ve ever seen, to be honest… What d’ya think, huh?”, he raised his eyebrows, peeking down at Chestnut yelping next to him, and giving her a loving scratch behind the ears. “Come, check this out”, he beckoned to the visitors plaque next to them with his chin, patting Chestnut’s side gently as he stepped up to the laminated board, full of colorful images of the local wildlife and the town’s various attractions. 

“Yeah? That’s where you wanna go?”, he laughed, as Chestnut suddenly stood up on her rear legs, front paws propped against the plaque, curious golden eyes fixated on the picture of Arcadia Bay’s imposing lighthouse. “Y’know what, why the fuck not, we got all the time in the world… At least ‘til next Wednesday'' Sean sighed, looking up from the slightly faded photograph to the actual lighthouse in the distance, peeking out from countless majestic pine trees, its bright, white light rotating with a slow and steady speed on the opposite end of the bay on top of a cliff.

There was something strange, something unsettling about the tall, robust tower that Sean couldn’t exactly put his finger on. He found himself staring at the lighthouse as if it held all the secrets, all the answers to all the questions he’s been searching for all his life - he couldn’t move, he couldn’t blink, he couldn’t even catch his breath for what felt like an eternity, even though it was but a mere moment. As if something was calling him, an invisible, eerie force locking his eyes on the lighthouse, Sean just stood there petrified, and if it wasn’t for Chestnut and her eager little woof startling him back to reality, he probably would’ve stayed there like that until sunset.

“Yeah, why the fuck not”, he murmured under his nose, shaking his head like he just woke from a weird dream as he turned away from Arcadia Bay and walked up to his car, trying to ignore the uncanny tingling in the back of his head - and the unmistakable feeling of being watched by a pair of all-seeing, otherworldly eyes.

*

It took surprisingly long to get to the other side of the bay from Otter Point. By the time Sean reached the lighthouse, the sun was high in the spotless blue sky, radiating its warm light so dazzlingly he had to shield his eyes with his hand as he exited the car. He parked the station wagon in a small clearing surrounded by fragrant, sky-high pine trees, at the bottom of a meandrous set of wooden stairs half-eaten by the soil, and began his short hike up to the lighthouse with Chestnut trotting by his side. The forest around them was peaceful and bustling with cheerful and welcoming Spring life; they saw busy bees and chirping birds and dancing butterflies everywhere as they made their way uphill, following the glimmering sunspots on the ground.

“Alright, same rules apply, okay? No running along the edge, it’s rocky down there”, said Sean when they reached the top of the stairs, grabbing Chestnut’s collar the very last minute before the pup could just storm off to explore the uncharted territory. “Stay… Staaay…”, he raised his eyebrows as the pup looked up at him with giant eyes full of excited sparkles, wagging her tail like the clearing in front of her was the last one on Earth to roam.  “Good girl. Run along now, but carefully, please”, he said after a moment or two, as he let go of Chestnut, watching her dart off as a fired arrow with a proud, fatherly smile on his face before following the pup to the clearing.

The lighthouse stood tall on the edge of the cliff, watching over Arcadia Bay like a robust, all-seeing guardian. Seeing the tower up close, Sean felt the same magnetic energy that practically hypnotized him from all the way across the bay, only this time, he felt it ten folds stronger, as he stood there and stared at the lighthouse, tilting his head back as much as he could to take in the breathtaking sight in all its mesmerizing entirety. It felt like he arrived in another dimension where time didn’t work as it did on his own; as if a heavy, velvety curtain fell on the world, closing around the cliff and creating an odd, languid void where the pace of time just wasn’t the same. It was quiet, yes, peaceful, even, but at the same time, the air was strangely disturbed, unsettling and mysterious - and eerily inviting.

After what felt like half a lifetime of staring at the lighthouse, Sean noticed a worn bench on the edge of the cliff. He watched Chestnut sweep across the clearing, very much occupied with chasing something that looked like an azure-blue butterfly at first glance, before walking up to the bench and sitting down on it, turning his gaze towards the magnificent view of the bay below him as he reached for his cigarette case in his pocket. With the first puff of bitter smoke, he closed his eyes, and for a while, he just listened to the waves crashing against the rocks at the bottom of the cliff and the squawking of a few stray seagulls circling around the lantern room, before bringing himself to unzip his backpack and pull out his tablet and sketchbook from the messy depths of it.

He only hesitated for a brief moment before he put the tablet back in his bag, and along with it, his deadlines and professional responsibilities, settling with his trusted sketchbook instead. He preferred drawing on actual paper with an actual pen anyway, and he felt like procrastinating a little before letting his work swallow him in one bite. Flipping through dozens of pages of unfinished drawings until he finally reached a blank page, Sean started sketching Arcadia Bay with strainless ease, his eye constantly moving back and forth between the sketchbook and the view until the chaos of thin, black lines started to come together and he didn’t have to look anymore.

And this is when the time truly stopped around him, as it always did when Sean took the pen. It was just him and his vision of the world under the sun, and of course, Chestnut running around the clearing, her lanky, brown form always somewhere in the corner of his eye. 

“You’re really pressed about this butterfly, aren’t you”, he chuckled as Chestnut ran across his feet relentlessly, making Sean look up from the content little wolf he’s been sketching for a while without even realizing that he started adding it to the drawing. He didn’t even notice anymore, since this was the case with many, if not most of his drawings - as if he was physically incapable of finishing a drawing without wolves in it, or for that matter, drawing for someone who wasn’t his brother. 

“I mean, it’s a pretty fucking stunning butterfly if you ask me”, answered a mischievous voice beside him, completely out of the blue, startling Sean so unexpectedly that he almost fell off the bench.

“De puta madr-!!”, he exclaimed in fright as he turned his head, and the next moment, he found himself staring at a young, slim girl, leaning against the crooked fence on the edge of the cliff. “I mean, ugh  Jesus. Sorry, I didn’t see you there” he added quickly, clearing his throat as he looked the girl up and down, wondering how long has it been since she got there - and most importantly, how in the world didn’t he notice her when she arrived. 

“It’s kinda rare that anyone does, to be honest” shrugged the girl, stepping away from the fence, piercing blue eyes shifting from Sean’s colorless face to the sketchbook in his lap. She was tall and slender, wearing ripped jeans with a leather jacket and a black beanie, electric blue hair framing her narrow, elfish face. She looked like she was in her late teens, early twenties, maybe, and even though Sean was certain he’s never seen her before, somehow it felt like he’s known the girl for his entire life. “What are you drawing? Can I see?”

“Sure, take a look” he said, scooting over a little so the girl could sit next to her. “It’s a… I don’t even know what, that started off as a landscape sketch” he explained, scratching the inner corner of his empty eye socket and suddenly wishing he put on his eyepatch before coming up to the lighthouse. The girl, however, was way too invested in his sketchbook to even notice that there was something unusual about his appearance, and even if she did, she didn’t seem to be taken aback by it - or at least she didn’t feel the urge to stare, unlike most people Sean has met throughout his life.

“This is really cool, dude” the girl said after a while, looking up at him with a wide, impressed grin before turning her gaze back to Sean’s drawing. “Are you like, an artist or something?”

“Artist is an overstatement but yeah, I draw comics for a living” Sean answered, reaching out for Chestnut when he noticed the pup is running towards him. “This one isn’t for work though. It’s a… Gift. For my brother”, he added, his smile suddenly fading with the words, and not returning even when Chestnut wriggled her way in between his legs and placed her head in his lap, staring up at him with giant puppy eyes. 

“Something gives me the impression that he’s the small one”, the girl chuckled, pointing at the younger wolf on Sean’s drawing, chasing a butterfly on the edge of the cliffside looking over Arcadia Bay, next to his bigger, scruffier, one-eyed brother, relaxing under a pine tree.

“I have no idea what makes you say that” said Sean with a faint smile on his face, gently fondling Chestnut’s head in his lap. “The older I get, the more it feels like it’s the other way around, to be honest”, he sighed quietly, feeling his entire chest harden all of a sudden as he took a glance at his sketchbook between the long nails of the strange girl next to her.

“You’re not from around here, are you?” asked the girl bluntly the next moment, carefully closing Sean’s sketchbook and putting it between them on the bench. “I don’t think I’ve seen you in Arcadia Bay before, and that’s pretty shocking considering that we’re talking about a town of 200 people where nothing ever happens…”

“Yeah, I’m just traveling. Thought I’d drive through town and check out the view from here” Sean answered, and as he pulled out another cigarette from his pocket, he couldn’t help but notice the sudden sparks of longing in the girl’s eyes. “You want one?”

“Not gonna lie, I could kill for a smoke… But no thanks. I… Can’t”, the girl gulped, watching with eager eyes as Sean reluctantly put the cigarette in his mouth. “Oh, no, it’s okay, I don’t mind. The smell’s gonna do the trick” she said, exhaling the smoke of the first huff with a strange, almost euphoric smile as Sean lit his cigarette at last.

“Oh man… You got some superior shit right there” she said, her smile slowly growing into a content, wide grin. “But anyway… As much as Arcadia Bay is the most boring shithole in the whole wide world, I hope your trip was worth it in the end.”

“Sounds like you lived here for a while, huh?”, Sean asked, eyebrows raised, to which the girl let out a sarcastic snort. “Oof. That bad?”

“There are no words to describe just how bad, my dude” the girl answered, shaking her head and wrapping her arms around her long legs pulled up to her chest. “I’ve been stuck here my whole fucking life. Wanted to leave since I was fourteen” she continued, the playful cheer suddenly leaving her voice and leaving behind gloomy shadows on her face. “Should’ve gotten the fuck outta here the first chance I got”, she said sourly, planting her chin between her knees and staring blankly in the distance, to a faraway place Sean couldn’t follow her to - and even if he could, he wouldn’t want to.

“So why didn’t you?”, Sean blurted out before thinking twice, but before he could even think of a way to apologize for possibly having crossed a line, the girl laughed out loud and dry.

“Have a wild guess, dude. ‘Cause of love, of course”, she snorted again, only this time, sarcasm was replaced with something much darker in her tone. “I was just waiting for the right time y’know. Back then, I had no idea that no such thing exists. Not for anything, not for anyone. There is just you and time, and time is nothing but a massive fucking trap, waiting for you to get stuck in it” she said, eyes darker than the coldest nights of winter. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to explode like that.”

“It’s okay. You don’t have to apologize for anything”, Sean shook his head, placing his burnt-out cigarette butt under the bench next to the previous one. “I’m just not sure I get what you mean.”

“No worries, I wouldn’t expect you to get it anyway” the girl shrugged, and the next moment, she turned her gaze to Sean, all-seeing blue eyes staring right into his soul. “You know, people hardly ever come to the lighthouse anymore, except when they should be somewhere else. And even if they come, they barely notice me. It’s nice that you did. And that you listened, too. I’m not sure where you’re supposed to be now, but I’m glad you’re here” she smiled, patting Sean’s hand with a surprisingly cold palm briefly, retreating almost immediately as he shuddered next to her.

“Yeah, I’m glad I took a little detour too” he smiled back at the girl before his glance wandered off to his sketchbook lying between them on the bench. “But I think I should get going now. I’d love to stay and chat, but… I’m ridiculously late already”, he added, a concerned frown taking over the upper half of his face, and a bewildered grin the lower, as somehow, at that moment, he realized there’s a chance that perhaps he has given into the nonsense of his own depression slightly more than he should have in the first place. 

“Yeah, you probably are”, said the girl with a playful wink, standing up from the bench and stretching her long arms above her head. “Man, what a spectacular fucking afternoon. I mean, look at the Sun. Such a radiant bitch boss, for real”, she declared lovingly, making Sean laugh out loud for the first time in the past few days, or even weeks, maybe.

“Need a lift?”, Sean asked the girl as they turned their backs on the lighthouse, and started walking towards the staircase leading to the small clearing at the bottom of the cliff. 

“Nah, thanks, but I’m not done here yet”, the girl said, shoving both her hands in the pockets of her skinny jeans. “Got some wandering to do, y’know… Contemplating the beauty of Spring and all” she looked at him with a somewhat shy smile, and Sean decided not to risk crossing any more lines with any more questions. 

“I guess this is where we part ways then” he nodded his head when they reached his station wagon, waiting patiently next to the tourist map of the cliff. “Enjoy contemplating the beauty of Spring, I guess?”, he smiled at the girl, opening the door of the passenger’s seat for Chestnut.

“Yeah, thanks, man. You take care too, okay?” answered the girl, and the next moment, before Sean could say anything, her eyes suddenly widened. “And don’t forget to sketch up a cool portrait of me or something if you got the time, will you?”

“Stop reading my mind, a’ight?” Sean laughed, waving at the girl before sitting in his car, a sudden burst of energy washing over him as the door closed behind him. The urge to drive as fast as he just can was stronger than he’s ever felt it before, but somehow, he managed to control it, closing his eyes and leaning back on his seat for a long, silent moment before reaching for his phone. Swiping away dozens of notifications, he then opened his contacts and pressed call on the first name on top of the list - the only number he’s ever called, really. 

The ringing stopped right after he pressed his phone between his ear and shoulder, and turned the car key under the steering wheel. 

“Hey enano. I’m on my way.”

*

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Hey! Thank you for reading! ❤

This short story is my contribution to a Christmas Short Story Exchange we did with my best friends. (It is also my first ever fanfiction in English!) I was writing for one of my best friends who got me into Life is Strange years ago, so when we pulled each other’s names and I found out I’m writing for her, I immediately knew that I’ll work with the Diaz brothers and Chloe. 

2020 Christmas Short Story Exchange Word count: 5353 | Written December 22nd-27th. I’m on AO3 now! Head over for more fanfictions. ❤

[adarlingfamily]

THIS    S I L E N C E    ENDS NOW.

What has been done unto me, will be silenced no more.

I need to get this off my chest.

It has taken me years to get to a place where I feel safe enough to write these words. These are by the far the hardest that I've ever had to write, but now that I have children of my own their innocence gives me the strength to speak up and share what has happened to me. I hope my story can help others speak up who have been too afraid or ashamed to share in the past. No longer will I sit in silence letting these memories eat me up inside. If I can protect just one person from the abuse I suffered, then all of the pain will be worth it.

Let me start off by saying I'm not here to call out people and name the people who abused me. Karma takes care of that for me. I have spent enough time thinking about hurting those who hurt me. But what does that prove? That I am no better than they are!

Hurting someone needlessly is an act of weakness, not strength. No, I am here to heal, to share, and to support others who may feel like they are dealing with their own sexual abuses all alone.

You are not alone! You are so much stronger than you can even imagine! You are capable of healing! You are loved! You deserve to be loved in a caring and respectful way!

Growing up I had a wonderful early childhood. My family didn't have very much money and we moved around a lot but as a child it didn't matter that much to me. Playing outside, riding bikes, and soaking up the sunshine with my sister was what was important to me.

At a young age I became fascinated with ballet, theatre, and performing arts. Determined that I would become the next prima ballerina I begged my mom to enroll me in a dance school. Despite it being a stretch financially they could see my passion for dance. I loved ballet. It made my soul sing. I loved the colorful tutu's, the beautiful costumes, and the grace of the older dancers twirling around on pointe. It all seemed like magic to me. I just wanted to be part of that world so badly.

That is, until I turned 8 years old. I went from a Montessori school to a public school for the first time. That change might not have been so dramatic if my classmates had been different, who knows?  In public school I stuck out like a sore thumb. I remember getting in trouble the first day of school for getting up to go to the bathroom during class. It didn't make sense to me that you had to ask to use the bathroom. I had always been trusted to take care of my own body. I thought to myself, “Where else would I be going?” Unfortunately that first day of school would not be the end of my bathroom torment.

Puberty was hitting us gals hard. Looking back on it all I wish I could just tell myself, "Who cares what she thinks!”  “You are beautiful just the way you are!" She was being mean to me because she was jealous. But I considered her more beautiful than I was. She was so exotic and tan compared to my white flesh. She was different, like I was but somehow I thought her kind of different was so much better than mine. I felt all alone, even though she was my "best friend" at school. As my chest blossomed so did her jealously. She started to bully and verbally rip apart another A-Cup girl like myself. I felt her turning on me. I didn't want her to bully me too so I went into hiding. Okay not literally. I hid my body and started wearing baggy shirts and sweatpants all the time. Hoping and praying she wouldn't notice my growing chest I clung on terrorized by this beautiful nightmare.

Meanwhile what feels like every time I needed to go pee at school I am cornered, bullied, and verbally harassed in my bathroom stall. These two girls had it out for me. I was painfully shy already so even the thought of someone peeping in between the cracks of the stall was mortifying enough, but oh no, these two took it to the next level. Standing on each toilet of the opposite stalls these bullies surrounded me with their peering eyes and creepy comments like "nice ass" which was a lot for a kid straight out of a completely different world. My bubble had been shattered. Day after day I dreaded having to go to the bathroom. Trying to seek refuge I would pick the last stall so at least I would have one side of privacy while I looked up terrified that any minute their eyes would POP up! Waiting, staring, taunting and terrifying me. I stopped going to the bathroom at school. The walks back from school became long enough to feel like torture as I continued to hold it.

Don't forget. I'm still doing ballet and since puberty has hit I have put on a little bit of weight. I am really serious about ballet, still following my dream of becoming a prima ballerina! After years of performing Nutcracker, Peter Pan, and other various seasonal shows I was picked to do my own solo performance. My dance teacher whom I loved and admired like a mother, danced with me. Her belief in me kept me going. Our "Mother, Daughter" dance moved the crowd to tears. I remember feeling so alive in that moment like "I was born for this!" Soon I was paying for such an electric performance.

Yet another "friend", a girl I met in ballet class had started to bully me about my recent weight gain calling me a "fatty" and a "lard ass" talking about how my butt jiggled when I walked during our ballet class. I was already embarrassed enough having to squeeze into my snug leotard and tights in the changing room. At that point things escalated to a whole other level leaving me contemplating suicide. This friend of mine was 'fancy', they lived on the lake in this big house with a boat and bbq's, an entire room just filled with awesome toys, and plenty of summer fun. Or so I thought at first.

This one is a tough memory to write about because it hits so damn close to home. Everything is so connected, now as I piece these repressed memories together 19 years later.

Our moms were friends and they loved chatting so we would go over to their house often. Seemed like at least once a week. During that time the older neighbor boy took a liking to us girls and after going swimming we were upstairs in her mom's bathroom getting ready to wash up. The neighbor boy burst in the door right as we had taken off our stinky lake suits and were hopping into a huge bathtub filled with fun bubbles.  Snapping pics in between our screams of protest "get out creep!" Finally after about a dozen or so nude photographs are captured he leaves. 

But no hold on, it gets worse. Sleepover nights with that friend become a barrage of unwanted late night games of "playing doctor". I couldn't take it anymore. My own "best friend" bullied and molested me (all of this on top of being sexually harassed and bullied at my new school!)  I quit ballet. Made up some lame ass excuse and quit. Threw it all away, years of practice and training. I needed to escape at least one bully in my life. I didn't feel like I had any choice. Finally after what feels like a century, the year of terror ends and I beg my mom to put me back in Montessori. Thankfully back at my old Montessori school I have a moment of calm from dealing with a bunch of sexual abuse at school. Sadly, because of what had happened to me I have a really hard time making new friends. I just couldn't trust anyone. I didn't want anyone close to me. I graduated from sixth grade feeling lonelier than ever, dreading what I knew was about to come. 

Seventh grade. A new school...a public school. My worst nightmare was coming true again and this time their was no where to hide. No more Montessori. (With only a few Montessori schools back then, they only went to 6th grade)

Time to face my demons again. Deep breath. 

A moment of calm and for a minute there I'm invisible. Everyone has already made friends with each other in 6th grade and no one wants to hang out with me. Which is okay for a little bit but it gets kinda lonely after a while. I finally make a friend and we are best buds! Going to the mall, watching movies together, laughing, giggling, and having a great time together.  

Without this friend I wouldn't have known how to let happiness and love into my heart again. I know we haven't talked in a while but I want to thank you. Your friendship and kindness in my time of darkness saved me. But even during times of light, darkness still found me... this time during the bus ride home. 

Deep down, I was still depressed and I wanted to be away from everyone and honestly just be left alone. This guy in my grade started getting really pushy and weird about sitting next to me. He insisted on sitting by the window and as I stand up to protest he pushes me down and rubs his crotch in my face, he sits down, looks out the window, then looks back at me with a look that would have turned water into ice. At this point everyone's getting in the bus, it's loud and chaotic...EVERY DAY he would seize his perfect moment to strike. I rode in fear. I was so painfully shy and honestly terrified of what this boy (a major bully) would do to me if he found out I reported him to anyone. Coming from Montessori school we didn't have much of these kinds of issues so I did not know how to respond. Instead I let my silence wash over me while I suffered the daily grind. 

Eighth grade. At this point I'm so scared and confused about what love is. Despite moving all around town I've been madly in live with a childhood friend and finally I get the chance to go to the same school. Sadly because of all that has happened, I have all of this rage pent up inside of me. One day during a silly game of kickball I explode like a volcano, in a fit of rage I unleash all sorts of swear words and my friend floats away from me forever. After that day I've come to realize the true stinging power of the silent treatment. As far as he was concerned I was invisible and as he looked through me, not at me! I lost hold of one of the rare feelings of love in my childhood. He was one of the only constant joys in my life. If we were hanging out everything was groovy. Running around in the rain, playing tag amongst the plants in the garden, dripping paint all over my head as we paint your little play house. I can still feel the tears running down my cheeks after getting off the phone for the last time. You didn't want to be friends anymore. You were my rock, someone who knew me before all of this abuse happened. I had never felt more alone.

My depression worsens and I can't imagine what is about to happen in high school. Images on the TV tell me that all the girls wear high heels and looks much older than they are. I have my first day of school outfit picked out months in advance. A grey off the shoulder long sleeve shirt, skinny jeans, and a pair a red semi high heels. I felt so grown up, so mature, and yes finally so exotic and beautiful. I soon discover that actually pretty much no one wears high heels to school unless you are going to a dance.  Oh so awkward. Thankfully my mom has literally forced me to do a sport and although I'm not into sports I really love to swim. (Thank you Mom!) Having the supportive comments from the older teammates really helped me overcome my paralyzing first day of school fear.   

Picture this, its freshman year. The first day of school and I'm late to class after lunch because, well I'm not really sure where my class is.  I don't have time to change as I burst through the door to my weight training class. It's warm up time and everyone's doing push ups. Without a word, high heels and all I join in, digging deep, cuz even though I'm a girl I want them to know  I belong here. 

What coach says next warns my heart to this day "Oh come on boys, this girl just showed up and she can do push ups better than half of yah AND SHE’S WEARING HIGH HEELS!"   Even though I felt silly wearing those stupid shoes all day, it was all worth it for that one moment. 

I am a strong women and that day I discovered my hidden power. 

Through the greatest times of darkness my light still finds a way to shine.  I'm focused on school and swimming and soon it's my sophomore year. Thanks to my moms initial push, I've realized how much I love swimming and being focused on that helps immensely with my depression. My swim coach rocks and is a serious influence on me finding my inner and outer strength.  

I will soon need every ounce of that very thing. Evil takes on many different forms along this journey. He's my first "real official highschool boyfriend" and I'm really excited. At the time all the girls in my close circle were obsessed with him and I felt honored that out of everyone he chose me. Soon I would regret that very thought. Quickly things started to unravel, sexually he was all pent up, his mom went on every date with us, she was always there. I'm still a virgin at this point but the sharks are circling in the water, and boy oh boy do they smell blood. Now I need to take a moment. 

I've been scared shitless to share this next part of my story for years. Silently suffering and distancing myself from my quite large family. I'm not afraid of what everyone will think. I regret not protecting my other family members. What happened to me was not okay and has taken me so long to stop blaming myself for what happened, finally to get it out and more forward in my healing work. 

The Internet played its part in helping along this next development as I sped closer to my sweet sixteen. I had started chatting with an older family member on aim and soon things got sexual. I was seduced by the draw of being something that I wasn't through the Internet, I pretended like I was actually "cool" enough to have been to a couple party's (soo not true!) and things escalated from there. It seemed innocent at the time, he wasn't really touching me so I felt safe sitting at home and yeah eventually turned on. No one had ever talked to me like that and even though I wasn't attracted to my family member it felt nice to capture someone's attention. I just wanted to be loved. My family was falling apart, and as my parents turned on each other I tried to deal with that, all the while adding another huge load of baggage of my own. This family member was staying with my grandparents and my sister and I consistently  spent the night during the weekends. He would often say "it's okay, we're not actually related" but even so I was not ready for what was about to come. First was the aim conversations, then he'd pin me down or pull me into him on the couch for a kiss. At first that was all it was, a tease. Lots of talk, some kissing and then the finale. He had been talking a lot about how he couldn't take away my virginity. I knew he wanted me badly but would not do anything until I wasn't a virgin. One night after staying out late at a party he came home, took a shower and then came into my room. More kissing.  "Take off your panties" he demands Not happening. I just started my period and my panty liner is my only protection as he pulls me on top of him. He's kissing me and then putting something in my hand, suddenly with disgust I realize why it's growing. I had never even touched a penis before and was instantly revolted. His hands are everywhere and as his fingers find my panty liner and starts stroking, I shut down. All of my blood runs cold, thankfully my flight response kicks in and I am able to scramble away. (Thank you for not chasing me down. I think you knew what you were doing was wrong but couldn’t help yourself because of what trauma was going on in your life. Know this, I forgive you) Now don't forget I have a super sexual boyfriend constantly being repressed by his mother presence around us. It's summertime. He has his parents house to himself and he wants me to come over. My parents are away at a concert but thanks to aim I am able to get ahold of my family member (actively molesting me) to drive me over to my boyfriends house. I tell my sister I'm going for a walk and I get dropped off. I can still remember exactly what I was wearing. A t-shirt, jeans, and sandals, nothing scandalous. He leads me through the dark house from the back door to his bedroom.  This is not what I pictured for such a sacred event.  My boyfriend tells me to "take off my pants and get on top". It hurts!  I say stop, instead he goes harder and a knife from his headboard falls on his head. 

No romance, no candles, no passion or pleasure. In less then 15 minutes I'm calling my family member to come pick me up again. During the ride home my family member taunts me about how quick that was, and tells me how he could satisfy me, obviously unlike my boyfriend. My sisters mad at me when I get home, my walk was too long. I take a shower because I've been told to do so by my boyfriend. I don't realize the gravity of the situation right away. None of my close friends had lost their virginity, so I thought it happened like that for everyone. I had said yes initially to what my boyfriend was doing, my consent ended when he started to hurt me and did not stop. It isn't until senior year that I realize I had been raped. 

Junior year I fall in love with someone who is not mine and I suffer the consequences. It's been years and I finally feel that warm fuzzy kind of love and am willing to see past all sorts of flaws in a person and situation that was not good for me. Yet again I can't go to the bathroom alone anymore because some older girls are "protecting" their friend. They've started pushing me around in the bathrooms, in the hallways, going to and from the parking lot and anywhere else they could at school. My body is constantly covered in bruises. It gets worse as things at home are in shambles. He quickly cheats on me and I spend all summer laying in bed dead to the world. I don't want to move, I'm crushed and I can't take it anymore. I'm numb. A zombie shell of a girl I used to be. 

Where is the love? I focus on getting out of this "small ass town" I enjoy my senior year. I've reinvented myself. I fail math class the first half of the year and because of extra credits, I get to have 3 art classes. My art teacher rocks and boosts my confidence even more. I relax. I find an older guy (not from high school) that I'm really into. He protects me and shows great concern when this family member (who I've finally shared with someone has abused me) wants to hang out my more and more with other younger family members.

I start healing. I go to off college. 

I face my demons. I try to drown them. 

Not able to cope with my madness, I leave my boyfriend behind. I get used to the idea of being alone. And then my high school crush asks me out on a date. From those first nervous moments we blend together. Talking for hours, music's playing but I'm not really listening, our accents come out. I feel so comfortable. I welcome him into my home and slowly into my heart. We date and move in together. I graduate college. He ask for my hand in marriage, I say yes and we are engaged. We have kids together. I start to pursue another life long dream of being a Montessori teacher. It's been years since I've had to deal with any sort of serious sexual harassment but then suddenly it's all happening again. I very strongly believe that if you have been sexually abused you become venerable to this kind of trauma and it is easy to suffer the same abuses over and over again.  It isn't easy work because during this time we must go to the root of our suffering in order to start to healing and realign with our true selves. 

I am doing my thing. I love being a teacher. In only a year I've been promoted from assistant to lead teacher. I've found my passion again through Infant Montessori but soon my perfect world is shattered. I'd known my boss since I was little but it wasn't her that was the problem. It was her husband. He starts showing up to my classroom every day. Trapping me and talking with me while I'm trying to do my job taking care of 13 kiddos under the age of 3. These constant distractions became a everyday struggle. Then the comments start. I'm wearing my favorite maternity dress.   Bending over a small sensory table I am starting my day in the classroom, helping the children explore our latest sensory experience. Parents are dropping off their kids and helping them remove and put away their boots and coats. My assistant teacher is an arms length away, reading stories to a couple other students in the reading corner He opens the door to the classroom.  Wide eyed I stand straight up, knowing he would enjoy the view all too much. His hungry eyes ready to eat me up finally drift upwards.  "Oh, don't get up on account of me!" 

He proceeds to stay during the entire class period and peer at my chest some more as he towers over me while I attempt to help my little friends. Trapped in my classroom I have no where to hide. So many thoughts are running through my head. “What the hell! I'm an adult now, this should not be happening at my work of all places!” I'm sick of being treated like this, he stares longingly at my cleavage and I catch his eyes with mine and look into his very soul with a hatred that comes from years of abuse. I have everything set up to get a scholarship for my Montessori Certification. That Monday morning I'm struck with cramps so badly I nearly fall to the floor when they wash over me. 

I couldn't take it anymore! Every day I had suffered but now I was pregnant with a daughter. I had to protect her. I had to get away from him. He wasn't going to stop.  He had done this before. It was only going to get worse. I had to leave. 

Once again I gave up on my dream, but this time it was to protect my daughter.  

Every day I struggle with these memories. I've spent the last four years driving past the house where I was raped. I've tried to drown my sorrows and I've stared them soberly down. My children have saved me and shown me how strong I really am. To all of those sitting in silence letting it eat you up, just let it out. Write it down. Talk about it. Get that shit out! Cry your eyes out! Feel it for a final moment, let it have power, be afraid, focus on your breathe, then take back your power! You are alive! Spread your love Follow your dreams Never give up You are the change! A note to my abusers, you know who you are... I forgive you. I know something bad must have happened to you too. I love you, you can't rush your healing but talking to someone you trust sure does help :) This took me 11 years to write, don't make the same mistake that I did! If something bad is happening to you, SPEAK UP! You are not alone. If you don't have anyone you can trust to talk to, try chatting with me @ ijustneedsomeonetotalktommkay@gmail.com

Authors Note: I found this video after finally drafting up my post. It moved me to tears and spoke to my soul, I think it is something that needs to be shared. THE QUOTES THAT TOUCHED MY HEART

“Depression comes as a gift asking that a woman recognize her own substance and trust it as the quiet, steady voice of her own truth. As she trusts it, hearkens to it, attends as it unfolds, she learns that of herself never allowed to develop when her allegiance  was with the collective…” “Depression serves a woman is it presses down on her, forcing her to leave behind that which was not herself, which had influenced her to live a life alien to her own nature. Her suffering, now substantial, insists that she no longer deny its truth. " “For through her descent, she touches the power of the feminine, the power that comes of being, not doing… the power of wisdom in the face of a very old woman, a face on which one reads, ‘I know what I know.’ “A woman through her descent, touches a deeply feminine authority, as different from the authority of the masculine as is the moon from the sun. “It is an authority not of abstracted, rational, objective knowledge, but an authority which allows her to speak from her own unique experiencing of life, from her own deepest personal conviction.

http://www.mysticmamma.com/the-descent-in-the-feminine-process/ THE VIDEO The gift of depression aka the Feminine Descent by Stephanie Lin

To all of those reading this, Thank you! Thank you for holding this space for me to share without shame or fear of judgement. I love and appreciate you  Our time is now. No more playing small!  We can no longer stay silent. Peace, Love and Light -Mama Bear

[jonghyundroppedthesoap]

My Number One Fan

Chapter 8

Pairing: JongKey Word Count: 3,636 Summary: Kibum goes to the same, run-down bar every week to watch the man of his affections sing his heart out with a mere guitar for company. He wasn’t expecting the coffee, nor the beautiful personality within the singer. And he definitely wasn’t expecting to fall in love.

A/N: originally posted on @ourshineeshrine

Kibum sat on the floor by Taemin, holding the younger’s hand protectively as he gnawed on his lip in worry. Glancing at the time on his phone for the umpteenth time in the last ten minutes, Kibum sighed in concern as his eyes ran over the bruises adorning Taemin’s pale skin.

“Those fucking assholes.” he whispered to himself, smoothing his hand through Taemin’s hair fondly as the boy’s eyes twitched in his sleep.

He sat there in silence for a little while longer, before all of a sudden he felt his phone vibrating in his hand as Jonghyun’s name flashed on the screen.

“Jjong, are you here?” he spoke urgently through the receiver.

“I’m at your school…where are you?”

Kibum glanced around at his surroundings hurriedly, taking note of the locker colours and classrooms nearby. “I’m in the first year block. If you go to the courtyard, there are a few tables outside a brown brick building. I’m in there.”

Jonghyun said nothing, but Kibum assumed he was nodding in understanding. “I’m running over now. Be right there, ‘Bummie.”

The phone call ended with a click, and Kibum let out a long exhale of relief. True to his word, around a minute later Jonghyun’s footsteps could be heard making their way down the corridor, the short male appearing hurriedly with a red tint shading his cheeks.

His pace slowed as his eyes landed upon Kibum, shooting him a small smile before they drifted to land on Taemin, eyes widening in horror.

“Shit. What happened to him?!” exclaimed Jonghyun in panic, jogging over to the two dancers and kneeling down by Taemin.

“A bunch of fucking losers thought it would be nice to pick on Taemin just because he’s ‘pretty’. How pathetic.” spoke Kibum angrily, running his hand through his blonde locks aggressively.

Jonghyun scoffed in disbelief before scooping the fragile boy into his arms, pouting at Kibum sadly. “Poor kid. We have to go get him some medical help…will my house do?”

Kibum’s stomach jolted at the thought of visiting Jonghyun’s house, but he supressed his feelings in consideration of Taemin’s wellbeing. “Definitely. I-I’m sorry I bothered you today, by the way. I didn’t know who else to call.”

The two walked side by side back down the corridor, Jonghyun flashing Kibum as reassuring smile. “You’re not bothering me, ‘Bum. This is serious. Don’t forget I’m always happy to help. Besides, I’m not complaining; I get to spend more time with you.”

Kibum had trouble concealing his grin at the older boy’s cheesy yet meaningful words, heart fluttering wildly at Jonghyun’s kind heart and beautiful smile. “Thank you, Jjong. Seriously.”

Jonghyun’s mouth widened in a toothy smile, watching the way in which Kibum’s dimples began to protrude slightly against the contours of his smooth skin. His hand was practically twitching in the urge to hold Kibum’s, however both of his arms were currently preoccupied with carrying the fragile first year and so regrettably he would just have to wait to feel the younger boy’s warm hand entwined with his once again.

They reached Jonghyun’s car within minutes, the older male gently sliding Taemin into the back seat before joining Kibum in the front. A mumbled hum began to ooze its way through his lips, and the chill that prickled down Kibum’s spine was inevitable.

“Is he your friend?” questioned Jonghyun quietly after they had backed out and pulled onto the main road.

Kibum laughed humorously to himself, thoughts drifting back to his previous attitude towards the younger boy. “Kinda, yeah. We never used to like each other too much, but the little shit is growing on me.”

Jonghyun quirked an eyebrow. “Little shit? He looks so innocent though.”

Kibum scoffed, shaking his head violently with an amused grin playing at his lips. Taemin, innocent? “Looks being the key word in that sentence.”

Jonghyun chuckled heartily, Kibum discretely admiring the way his eyes crinkled in laughter and the pearly white teeth that reminded him all too entirely of a dinosaur.

‘Seriously adorable.’

“Second day in a row Kibum…that desperate to see me?” teased Jonghyun, casually changing the subject with a sly smirk etching onto his face.

Kibum rolled his eyes playfully. “Get over yourself; you’re the only person I know with a car.”

Jonghyun gasped in mock hurt, flicking away fake tears dramatically. “I thought I meant something to you, Kibum! I thought we had a connection!”

Kibum looked out the window into the distance, placing his soft hands delicately against the cool glass. “So goodbye, don’t cry and smile,” he began to sing melancholically, causing Jonghyun’s head to whip towards him before bursting out into laughter.

“What the heck are we doing, Kibum?” he questioned amusedly, focusing his gaze back on the road with a grin twitching at his lips.

Kibum shook his head. “I don’t know; you started it.”

“Touché, my friend. Touché.”

The comfortable silence returned, Kibum yearningly breathing in the scent of the car which smelled exactly like Jonghyun. Cinnamon, old books and mint.

“My sister and mum are a little crazy. Just a warning.” spoke Jonghyun with a snicker as they turned onto his street, the singer mentally praying that the two women wouldn’t say anything stupid in front of Kibum.

Kibum grinned mischievously. “So that’s where you get it from!”

The car finally pulled into the driveway of an average sized house, Kibum immediately noting the welcoming and warm aura the home seemed to behold.

“You are so rude, Kibum.” scoffed Jonghyun, smiling nonetheless at the younger boy’s cheek.

Kibum poked his tongue out before unbuckling his seatbelt and opening the car door. “It’s my specialty.”

The two males stepped out of the car before carefully lifting Taemin off the back seat, Kibum allowing Jonghyun to take the boy in his stronger arms whilst he closed the door and locked it shut.

“Maybe we should’ve taken him to the hospital…” spoke the feline boy hesitantly, biting his bottom lip as his eyes once again landed on Taemin’s frail, feeble form.

Jonghyun glanced at Kibum reassuringly over his shoulder, grinning crookedly as he hit the doorbell with his elbow. “It’ll be alright, ‘Bummie; my sister’s in medical school.”

Kibum sighed a breath of relief he didn’t even realise he’d been holding, coming to stand by Jonghyun with his arms crossed casually over his chest. “Why are you ringing the doorbell to your own house?”

Jonghyun chuckled quietly. “I wouldn’t normally, but I left my house key inside and my sister usually locks the door behind me.”

Kibum nodded in understanding and went to reply, however was interrupted as the door pulled open and a young woman’s face peered at them through the entryway.

“Hyun-ah, back alrea—“she began to question, only for her words to be caught in her throat as her gaze dropped to the fragile body in Jonghyun’s arms.

Sodam let out a squeal of horror, opening the door wide and ushering Jonghyun and Kibum inside frantically. “What on earth happened to him?!” she exclaimed, gesturing for Jonghyun to place him on the couch before rushing into the kitchen to grab supplies.

“He got beaten up by some kids at Kibum’s school.” frowned Jonghyun, leaving Kibum to watch over Taemin as he went to assist Sodam gather medical supplies.

Kibum gently brushed Taemin’s hair off of his soft face, sighing in sympathy for the young dancer. “Where is Minho when you need him?” he questioned to himself silently, thoughts drifting back to when Taemin had told him of Minho’s protectiveness.

Jonghyun looked through the archway to the lounge from where he stood, heart clenching in jealousy at the affection Kibum showed the younger male. He knew that the two students were merely close friends, however he couldn’t prevent the surge of annoyance that drifted through his veins at their display of affection – He couldn’t help but wish he was the battered one lying upon the couch, despite the awfulness of the situation.

Jonghyun shook his head to rid himself of those negative thoughts.

‘I’m awful.’

“Hyun-ah, hurry up! Give me that wet towel and go back to the lounge room. I won’t be a second.” scolded Sodam, taking the now drenched towel out of Jonghyun’s hands and shoving him gently towards the lounge.

Jonghyun sat down softly besides Kibum, working up his courage and inching his hand towards Kibum’s. He cautiously placed his warm, masculine hands over Kibum’s feminine ones in tenderness and support, shooting the younger a sympathetic smile. Kibum’s heart leapt within in his chest, holding his breath at the tingles which ran over his skin as Jonghyun’s hand made contact.

“Are you sure it’s okay I come over to your house on Saturday?” queried Jonghyun delicately in attempt to divert Kibum’s mind from concern.

Kibum’s lips tilted gently at the ends, dimples appearing softly against the crimson rouge that graced his face. “Yeah, it’ll be fine Jjong. Besides, it’s not like I’ve got anything better to do. You’re doing me a favour, trust me.”

Jonghyun beamed, eyes crinkling at the ends in contentment. “As long as you come watch me sing on Sunday.”

“No need to persuade me; I wouldn’t miss it for the world.” scoffed Kibum in a discretely flirtatious manner, a wave of delight crashing over Jonghyun’s body in a pool of butterflies.

Sodam stood in the doorway watching on amusedly.

‘This must be Kibum! At least ‘Hyun’s got good taste.’

Despite the adorableness of the situation before her, Sodam knew there was more important matters at hand and briskly strolled into the lounge with an armful of supplies.

“Sit back a little guys, give the poor boy some room.” she ordered gently, and then knelt before the couch as Jonghyun and Key jumped off to begin working on healing Taemin’s cuts and bruises.

The two older males stood by idly and watched on in concern, Kibum observing Sodam’s professionalism with awe. “She’s really good,” he commented offhandedly.

Jonghyun nodded with a fond smile. “Yeah…I have memories of when we were younger; if anyone hurt themselves she would be the first to comfort them or get help. I remember this one time when I’d fallen over, there were no adults around.  Instead of panicking or crying or looking for someone else, the first thing she did was rip a bit of her t-shirt off and hold it against the cut on my knee. It wasn’t even serious, but she was so mature about it…I just know when she graduates she’s gonna be a great nurse.”

Kibum’s lips quirked as Jonghyun spoke about his sister, enjoying the way the singer’s eyes lit up in tenderness and affection as he spoke about the young woman. It was times like these in which Kibum wished he had a sibling – someone to keep him company during his childhood and take care of him when his parents were away working. Sighing the thoughts away, Kibum focused his gaze back on Taemin, heart clenching in hurt for the scrawny boy.

“Kibum?” Jonghyun nudged, gaining the third year’s attention immediately.

“Mm?”

Jonghyun gestured to the kitchen, a lopsided grin plastering itself onto his handsome face. “Would you like something to drink? Noona may be a while…”

Kibum nodded eagerly, glad to finally have something take his mind off the bedridden boy. Jonghyun gently tugged at Kibum’s hand eliciting a blush from the younger, and led him into the kitchen before opening the fridge. After the two decided on a can of soda each, they took a seat on the kitchen stools and sipped at them leisurely.

“Is your mum home at the moment?” asked Kibum curiously, earning a chuckle out of Jonghyun.

“Nah, she went grocery shopping right before you rang. She should be home soon though.”

Kibum nodded, running his finger around the rim of his can casually. “Your family is so cute.” he commented before taking another gulp of soda.

Jonghyun shot Kibum a look of incredulity. “You haven’t even talked to them.” he laughed.

Kibum giggled. “I know, they just seem so cute.”

Jonghyun rolled his eyes playfully. “Sure, sure. Do you want to come see my bedroom?”

Kibum blanched, eyes widening in surprise. The mere thought of going into the older boy’s room with just the two of them gave him a pleasant, warm feeling in the pit of his stomach; however an abundance of butterflies also flew maniacally, evoking a feeling of nervousness to engulf his mind.

“A-ah yeah…if that’s okay with you?”

Jonghyun poked his tongue out between his teeth teasingly, standing up from his seat and pulling Kibum with him. “I asked, you idiot. C’mon!”

Kibum bit his lip excitingly and scurried along with Jonghyun, bouncing on the balls of his feet as he walked. As they strolled, his eyes glanced over the photos upon the wall, a light giggle spilling out of his lips as they landed on a photo taken when Jonghyun was a child.

“You were so cute!” he exclaimed in a squeal, causing Jonghyun’s eyes to widen and his face flush bright rouge.

“Were?” the singer questioned mischievously, raising his eyebrows suggestively at the younger boy.

Kibum scoffed. “Yes, were. Now you’re leaning more on the handsome side.”

Jonghyun felt his heart leap at the compliment, biting his lip in contentment as they reached his bedroom door. “Why thank you Kibum…I’ll let you be the cute one between the two of us.”

Kibum’s cheeks reddened considerably, however their distinctive pink shade thankfully went unnoticed as Jonghyun pushed his door open and stood back to let Kibum inside first.

“Welcome to my shrine.” he exclaimed extravagantly, presenting the average sized bedroom with his toned arm.

Kibum took a cautious step in and looked around with interest. A large, double bed covered by an abstract, blue duvet lay in the corner (not that Kibum was getting any thoughts), and a dresser sat beside it; the other side of the room decked with novels and cd’s within a bookcase and a lone guitar lying to the right.

Jonghyun rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. “I mean…it’s not that great. But it serves its purpose, and that’s all that really matters.”

The dancer shook his head in denial, eyes shining at the simplistic yet comforting aura the room expelled. Kibum took slow steps towards the bookcase and laid his eyes upon the extensive collection of cd’s lying within. His eyes widened at the sheer amount of English artists, shooting the older male a sceptical look.

“Can you even understand these? You don’t take me for a linguistic person.”

Jonghyun gasped in mock hurt.

“Again with your rudeness Kibum! I may not be able to understand the words, but the music speaks to me.” he spoke passionately, joining Kibum by the bookcase and reaching out to stroke an album’s spine dramatically.

Kibum threw his head back and chuckled loudly. “You are so cheesy, stop!” he choked out in laughter, holding onto Jonghyun’s arm for support and unknowingly causing a large flutter of chills to run down the elder’s spine.

“And why the heck are you stroking the album?! I know you love music, but damn Jjong!”

Jonghyun adopted a fake look of anger, crossing his arms over his chest and aiming a glare at Kibum. “You dare kink shame me in my own home?”

This sent Kibum over the edge, barking out a boisterous cackle that unwillingly tugged at Jonghyun’s lips and lightened his heart. At that moment, Jonghyun found that Kibum’s beautiful laugh was contagious, following the younger boy’s lead and laughing loudly at his own immature stupidity and god-awful acting. They laughed and laughed until their stomach’s ached and their breaths came in short, audible puffs; and as it seemed, their booming chuckles had been distinguishable throughout the entirety of the house, a small knock rapping at the door soon after their laughter had died down.

“Jonghyun-ah?” came the voice of said boy’s mother, causing the two males to immediately straighten up and divert their heads to the chipped, wooden door.

“Come in!” granted Jonghyun, his voice inducing the door to open and a middle aged woman’s head to poke through the gap.

“’Hyun-ah, your friend will wake up soon. Do you and…” she spoke, trailing off towards the end and shooting Kibum a curious look.

“Kibum.” assisted the said boy with a bright smile, Jonghyun’s mother nodding in gratitude as a questionably sly and knowing gleam glinted in her gaze.

“Do you and Kibum want to sit in the lounge until he awakens? The poor boy probably has no idea where he is.”

Jonghyun nodded, gesturing at Kibum to follow behind him as he strolled out the room. “He doesn’t even know who I am, so you better explain Kibum.”

Kibum trailed behind Jonghyun, taking one last glance at the cozy room before exiting with the hopes of seeing it again soon. Upon entering the lounge, Kibum and Jonghyun immediately took notice of the change in aura, a more light-hearted feel adorning the room instead of the previous gloomy, urgent one. The afternoon sun shone in through the open curtains and brightened the room considerably, the light rays peeking through the window landing on Taemin and giving him the appearance of an angel.

Jonghyun and Key sat down on the sofa nearby, Jonghyun turning on the television to fill the silence that lingered throughout the room. It was a comfortable silence, but that didn’t stop Kibum from worrying about the fragile boy beside them.

“Next time I see those guys…I assure you I’m going to slit their throats.” muttered Kibum angrily, emitting a hum of agreement from Jonghyun.

“Text me when you do, I’ll come help.”

Kibum laughed and Jonghyun followed promptly, finding that the younger boy’s laugh was quite infectious.

“How did you manage to get rid of them today, anyhow? I won’t be bailing you out of jail anytime soon, right?” chuckled the singer in question, nudging Kibum gently with a slight smirk.

Kibum scoffed. “If you can get arrested for verbally slaying someone, then maybe. I gave those assholes a piece of my mind and their puny brains just couldn’t handle it.”

Jonghyun rose an incredulous eyebrow at Kibum’s blunt words, however the smirk on his face didn’t fade in the slightest. “I quite like this diva side of you.” he commented, lying his arm next to Kibum’s so that he could relish in the warmth and comfort that the other boy’s presence gave him.

Kibum’s eyes widened with a blush, not expecting the older male’s reply. “Thanks, I guess. You’re one of few.” he mumbled, down casting his eyes cutely in embarrassment.

“Well then aren’t I lucky?” grinned Jonghyun, inching his hand over slightly to rest on top of Kibum’s.

Kibum lifted his gaze slowly with his lower lip trapped between his teeth, Jonghyun internally cheering as their eyes met. “Besides, who could dislike someone as adorable as you?”

Although Jonghyun was mentally slapping himself at his straight forwardness and cheesy comments, he couldn’t will himself to stop. The different facial expressions that flashed across Kibum’s face were all too fascinating to Jonghyun, and he just wished at that moment he had a paper and pen to capture the pure adorableness of the beautiful, feline boy.

Unfortunately he didn’t however, so he opted for merely looking at Kibum; studying the way his lips tilted gently when amused, the slight crease that appeared between his brows when confused or surprised, and especially the enticing pink hue that glazed across Kibum’s cheeks all too often when embarrassed.

Kibum’s blush only continued to intensify after he noticed the older boy’s staring, awkwardly diverting his gaze back to Taemin upon the couch. He stole secret glances out the corner of his eye every once and a while, only to see that Jonghyun was still looking at him with that stupidly adorable smile etched upon his chiselled face. It was just a few minutes later however, when he looked back towards the youngest male in the room, where his jaw dropped in surprise, noticing Taemin’s fluttering eyelashes and stirring body.

“Jjong…I think he’s waking up!” he exclaimed, jumping off the couch hurriedly (much to Jonghyun’s chagrin) and rushing over to Taemin’s side.

Jonghyun stayed seated, not wanting to scare the boy with his presence once he had awakened. After all, the two had never even met. He watched while Kibum’s grin began to widen as Taemin’s eyes squinted at the light, the frail boy groaning in discomfort as he tried to shift up into a sitting position.

“Stay lying, Taemin-ah. You have to rest.” coddled Kibum in a soothing tone, running his hand through the young dancer’s luscious, brown locks.

Taemin’s brows furrowed, and he looked in struggle for something to say. “K-Kibum…Where’s Minho?” he stuttered, tilting his head to the side frantically in search for the other boy.

“Calm down, Taem…I don’t have his number. Tell me his number and I’ll ring him now.” spoke Kibum gently, fishing his phone out and preparing to tap in the frog-like male’s contact details.

Taemin hoarsely told Kibum the digits to Minho’s phone, Kibum tapping them in hastily and pressing call. The phone rang a few times, but Minho answered almost immediately, voice sounding frantic from the other end.

“Hello?!” it came gruffly, although Kibum didn’t miss the slight amount of concern that laced the soccer player’s voice.

“Minho…It’s me, Kibum. I’ve got Taemin right now, he’s safe.”

Kibum heard a huge exhale from the other side of the line. “Thank God…where are you? I’ll be there soon.”

“I’ll text you the address, okay?” replied Kibum, smiling at the care and worry Minho held for Taemin. It really was quite adorable.

“Okay…Tell Taemin I’m coming now.”

“Will do. See you soon, Minho.”

“See ya, Kibum.”