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debbiechanclub · 1 year

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Murky Waters, Part 3

A Bullet Club horror AU

Pairings: David Finlay x OFC; Jay White x OFC; past Matt Jackson x OFC Word Count: 3,764 Warnings: Alcohol use, angst, referenced cheating, language

Tensions rise with Matt's arrival, but he and Chloe put circumstances aside to perform a summoning when Riley finds the Ouija board.

Read it on AO3 | Masterlist

Tag squad: @aussiearrow @statdaddy @knifepervert @sldghmmr @rusevday @missbrownstone @meteora-fc @bec0m @thatgirlforever5 @rocca09

“What the fuck?” Matt said in confusion.

“That sounded like Alyssa,” Chloe worriedly stated. She turned and pushed up onto her knees on the hot tub seat, peering out into the dark. But she couldn’t see anyone or anything, not even the edge of the water.

“Wait, are they down there?” Matt asked as he moved to the edge of the deck.

“Yeah; Jay dared Riley to go swimming in the lake because of that ghost story,” David explained; and then, to Chloe, “It’s probably just one of them fucking around.”

They all fell silent, listening. Chloe’s fingers gripped the lip of the hot tub, her heart pounding in her ears. Goosebumps prickled over her bare skin, and she wanted to sink back down into the warmth of the bubbling water, but she was transfixed; waiting for what, she wasn’t sure. But then there was a rustle of movement, voices growing closer, and Jay, Alyssa, and Nick burst out from the shadows, laughing, each carrying an article of clothing. Then Riley appeared in hot pursuit—and he was stark naked.

“Oh my God,” Chloe gasp-laughed and averted her eyes. David’s guess was right.

“Hey!” Matt called down to them. “What the fuck did I just walk into?”

They all came to a halt and looked up at the deck, startled. “Matt?” Alyssa gaped. “What the fuck are you doing here?” Her eyes found Chloe’s in shock. Chloe pursed her lips. I know, it communicated. The audacity of this bitch.

“Man, I’m just getting warm welcomes all around,” Matt sarcastically quipped.

“Seriously, what’re you doing here?” Nick asked. It surprised Chloe; she’d figured if anyone had known about Matt’s intentions to crash the weekend, it would have been his brother. But he looked just as confused as the rest of them.

“Okay, can I get dressed before we get into this?” Riley spoke up, covering himself with his hands. It broke the tension, if only a bit.

“Are you cold, bud?” David called down to him.

“Wanna stop looking at my dick, David?” he returned.

“Here,” Jay tossed Riley his boxer-briefs. “David’s right; you’re not doing yourself any favors.”

“Fuck you,” Riley shot; but he was quick to pull his underwear back on, and they all climbed back up the stairs to regroup on the deck. Alyssa made a beeline for Chloe and David, still in the hot tub. Chloe knew exactly what she was going to say before she said it.

“What the fuck?” she mouthed as she walked over. “When did he get here?”

“Right before you guys came running up,” David lowly answered. Alyssa rolled her eyes.

“I didn’t want to say anything, but I had a fucking feeling he was gonna do this,” she bit; but everyone else came to gather next to the hot tub, too. She shared another glance with Chloe. They’d have a sidebar later.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were coming?” Nick asked Matt.

“Why he didn’t tell you doesn’t matter, he shouldn’t be here,” Alyssa tersely interjected. She fixed her eyes on Matt. “You said Chloe should be the one to go this weekend.”

Matt scoffed. “So is that how we’re doing it from here on out? I get every other trip and thing we do as a group like some sort of custody agreement?”

“That’s not the fucking point,” Jay jumped in. “Lyss is right—you bowed out because it seemed like you knew it was the right thing to do, and now you’ve showed up for what reason? To make Chloe and everyone else uncomfortable all weekend?”

Chloe sat stiffly in the hot tub, extremely uncomfortable. Jay and Matt had always butted heads, but not in the friendly competitive sort of way that David and Riley did. There had always been an underlying current of genuine dislike between them, and Matt’s infidelity had driven it to the surface.

“Okay, let’s all just take a breath—” Nick started.

“No, Jay’s right,” Matt cut him off with a placating tone. He looked at Chloe. “Do you want me to leave?”

Chloe stared back at him, put on the spot. The earnest, open expression on his face was bullshit; she knew exactly what he was doing. If she asked him to leave, it would make her look like the insecure one who couldn’t be around him, like she was the one splitting up the friend group. But little did Matt know, she’d meant it when she told David she’d moved on.

“I don’t care,” she returned. “Stay if you want, leave if you want. It makes no difference to me.”

There was an awkward silence as everyone did their best not to outwardly react. Matt nodded, his mouth tight. “Alright. Then I guess I’ll stay.”

Nick breathed out. “Well, I don’t know where you’re gonna sleep,” he said. “Even the pull-out’s taken.”

“The pull-out’s not taken; Chloe and I are sharing a room,” David announced. He looked Matt right in the eye. “So you can sleep on the couch.”

Even the crickets and frogs seemed to silence in embarrassment on Matt’s behalf. Riley, fully clothed again, barely contained the oh, shit he laughed under his breath. Jay and Alyssa both sent David and Chloe sneaky grins. And Chloe had never been more turned on in her life.

“Great!” Matt clapped his hands together, his voice and expression strained. “That’s settled, then. I’ll get my stuff out of the car.” And he turned and disappeared into the cabin.

“Chloe, I promise I didn’t know he was gonna show up,” Nick told her. But she waved him off as she got out of the hot tub.

“Whatever. I need another drink.”

She shouldered past him and went inside straight to the fridge, grabbed another beer, pried off the cap, and took a long swig. She hadn’t realized how dry her mouth was until the drink soothed her cotton tongue, and she gulped down a third of the bottle without meaning to. She heard a door open as she leaned against the kitchen counter, and she thought it was the others following her back inside from the deck. But then Matt appeared from around the corner, a large duffle bag over his shoulder. He stopped when he saw her.

“Can we talk?”

Chloe’s eyes hardened. “What could we possibly have to talk about?”

He sighed. “Are you with David now?”

“How is that any of your business?”

“He made it my business when he told everyone that you’re sharing a bed this weekend,” he returned. His pride was wounded; Chloe could see it on his face, hear it in his voice. She couldn’t care less.

“What did you hope would happen tonight, Matt?” she charged. “I know you didn’t drive all the way out here for shits and giggles. Did you think I’d what—be flattered you showed up? Tell you I want to work things out? I have more self-respect than that.”

Matt sighed. “I don’t know what I was hoping for, Chlo, but I sure as hell wasn’t expecting you to be sleeping with David already.”

“Well, you cheated on me, Matt! It made it pretty easy to get over you!”

“I cheated on you because I felt like you didn’t want me, anyway!”

Chloe grabbed onto the kitchen counter to steady herself. It wasn’t the first time he’d said that to her. The final months of her and Matt’s relationship had been stressful at best. It had just felt like they weren’t on the same page anymore; like they’d grown into completely different people from when they’d first started dating, and instead of growing together they’d grown apart. But rather than talk about it, they’d just tried to fix it with sex—until that hadn’t worked anymore, either. Matt wasn’t the only one who’d felt unwanted at the end. The difference was that Chloe didn’t step out on him.

“That’s not fair,” she returned. Angry tears stung the back of her eyes, but she refused to let them fall. She was done crying over him.

“I’m sorry, Chlo, I just,” he sighed again, remorseful, searching for his words. “I wasn’t expecting you to be all cozied up with David already.”

Chloe bit down on her jaw. If he wanted sympathy, he wouldn’t get a shred from her. “You know, the funny thing is I’m actually not sleeping with David. But that’ll change tonight.”

With that said, she grabbed her beer and walked off into her room, closing the door behind her. She needed a moment to herself. So, when someone knocked on the door not long after, she tensed. But she relaxed when she heard David’s voice on the other side.

“It’s me. Can I come in?”

“Yeah,” she answered. David opened the door and stepped inside, closing it behind him. He looked concerned.

“Everything alright? We saw you two talking, but Nick—”

Chloe cut him off with a kiss. It took David by surprise, but not for long. He grabbed her hips and drew her closer, skin against skin as their mouths moved together, slowly, eagerly. His tongue tasted faintly of the beer they’d been drinking, and he smelled like chlorine from the hot tub. It was the best kiss Chloe had ever had.

She pulled away first. “Sorry,” she sheepishly apologized. But David shook his head, a distracted grin on his lips.

“No, don’t apologize,” he said, still holding her close. “I was actually gonna apologize for telling everyone we’re sharing a room like that, but I guess you didn’t mind.”

Chloe bit her lip. “Not at all. That was extremely fucking sexy of you, actually.”

David grinned. “Good to know,” he said, and he closed the space between them and kissed her again. Chloe gave into him, pressing her body against his, and David walked her backward, toward the bed. She hadn’t expected it to happen so soon, but the thought of David pulling off her bikini and fucking her right after she’d told Matt that’s exactly what would happen turned Chloe on even more—

“Holy shit, look at this!”

An excited shout from Riley out in the living room made them stop. Chloe’s stomach turned. She had a sinking feeling she knew exactly what Riley had found.

“What?” David softly asked.

“The Ouija board,” she said, and she pulled away from him and went out into the living room. Everyone stood gathered in front of the entertainment center, and in his hands, Riley held the box that Chloe had stashed away hours earlier, hoping no one would find it.

“Well, we gotta use it, right?” Riley posited.

“Where did you find that?” Chloe charged. She didn’t know why she’d asked like that—she knew where he’d found it—it had just come out that way. But she wanted to know if there was another reason he’d gone looking in the entertainment center, or if the Ouija board had somehow called out to him, the way it had seemingly thrown itself off the closet shelf.

But Riley didn’t give her an answer either way. “In the cabinet there,” he said, motioning to the cabinet where she’d hidden it. “What do you guys think? Should we try to summon the White Lady?”

“Fuck no,” Alyssa immediately said.

“Oh, come on,” Jay nudged her. “You’ve said before that you want to try a Ouija board at least once.”

“Yeah, well I’m all talk,” she returned. It made Nick snort in laughter.

“Alright, well this is a democracy, allegedly,” Riley said. “Let’s put it to a vote. All in favor of using the Ouija board?”

He raised his hand, looking around at them. Matt, Nick, and Jay all raised a hand, too. It was four against three in favor.

Riley grinned. “Let’s set ‘er up.”

Alyssa smacked Jay’s arm with the back of her hand. “Really?”

“Come on, nothing’s gonna happen,” Jay dismissed.

David scoffed in amusement. “Famous last words,” he muttered. Chloe frowned at him.

“Let me go change,” she sighed and started back to their room. “I’m not summoning ghosts in a bikini.”

* * * *

While Chloe and David changed, Riley, Matt, and Nick made sure the atmosphere was sufficiently spooky for their impromptu séance. They cut off the music and all the lights in the cabin except for one dim table lamp next to the couch. Nick brought down a candle he’d found in the master bathroom and lit it, filling the air with a light, calming fragrance of jasmine and sandalwood. When Chloe and David returned, they all gathered in the living room and sat cross-legged on the floor, their phones silenced, the Ouija board set on the coffee table. No one made a move to touch the planchette.

“Well, are we doing this, or what?” Riley impatiently asked.

“Has anyone even done this before?” Alyssa asked.

“In high school once,” Chloe revealed.

Jay smirked at her. “During your goth phase?”

She shot him a look. “It was an emo phase, thank you very much.”

“Hot,” David grinned. Chloe rolled her eyes, a smile pulling at her lips.

“Okay, well this says you need at least two people touching the planchette,” Nick read from a website he’d pulled up on his phone, the glow from the screen illuminating his face. “Preferably a male and a female.”

“Alright, let’s go, Lyss,” Jay said. He reached toward the planchette—but she looked at him like he’d lost his damn mind.

“Absolutely not.”

His face fell. “Aw, come on!”

“It should be Matt and Chloe,” Nick suggested. It made everyone look at him like he’d lost his mind. “What? Given what happened to Clara, they’d probably have the most luck getting a response if it is her. You know, because Matt che—”

“Yeah, we got it,” Matt cut him off. He looked across the coffee table at Chloe. “You up for it?”

Chloe set her jaw. There he went, putting her on the spot again.

“Fine,” she agreed. She scooted closer to the coffee table to better reach the board; but Nick spoke up again.

“Okay, it actually also says we shouldn’t use a table. The two people using the board should sit facing each other with their knees touching and the board balanced on their legs.”

Alyssa shot him a skeptical look. “I’ve never seen it done like that in the movies.”

“Well, take it up with this website,” Nick returned.

Matt expelled an agitated breath. “Fine.” He picked up the planchette and board and moved around the table before anyone could say anything else about it. He sent Chloe an expectant look. She pursed her lips and pivoted to face him, and they scooted toward each other until their knees touched. Matt balanced the board in between them on their legs, making sure it was stable.

“Good?” he asked her.

She just nodded.

Nick ran down the rest of the rules. Designate one person to act as the “medium”; they all agreed Chloe would be best. Touch the planchette as lightly as possible and move it in circles around the board a few times to warm it up. Start out with a simple “yes” or “no” question. Be patient and polite. Don’t ask stupid questions or for physical signs. Don’t believe everything the board tells you. And, most importantly, do not end the session without saying goodbye.

Chloe and Matt put their fingertips on the planchette. They moved it in circular motions around the board, and Chloe’s touch was so light that she wasn’t sure if she or Matt was the one who eventually stopped it. But then Matt looked up at her and said, “Whenever you’re ready.”

She drew in a steadying breath through her nose. Open with a simple “yes” or “no” question, Nick had said. She had to swallow a lump in her throat before she could speak. “Are we at Sharp Rock Lake?”

The silence in the room seemed to deepen, the only sound that of the crackling candle flame. Thirty seconds passed, and then forty-five more, but the planchette remained unmoved on the board.

“Maybe she doesn’t know the name of the lake where she died,” Riley said. Alyssa whacked him with an audible smack. “Ow! That was hard!”

“Please excuse my friend Riley,” Chloe said with sidelong glance at him. “I’m sure he didn’t mean to insult your intelligence. He’s just scared.”

David snorted.

Chloe refocused back on the board. “Are we at—”

The planchette moved before she could finish the question.

“Are you doing that?” Matt asked her. She shook her head, her eyes glued to the planchette as it glided across the surface of the board. It came to a stop in the top left corner. “YES.”

Chloe’s heart pounded in her ears again. She glanced up at Matt. “Did you do that?”

He shook his head. “No.”

She let out a shaky breath and looked back down at the board. Another simple question came to her and she asked it before she lost the nerve. “How many people are in this room?”

One, two, three, four, five, six long seconds passed, and then the planchette moved. Toward Chloe, down toward the numbers. It stopped above “8.”

“There’s seven of us,” Jay pointed out. “Is she counting herself?”

“Maybe she doesn’t know she’s dead,” Nick said.

“We don’t know that it’s her,” Chloe quietly stated. And then, to the board, “Are we speaking with—”

The planchette unexpectedly moved, cutting her off. It stopped above the letter “I” for a second, and then moved again. It was spelling something out. Chloe announced each letter aloud as the planchette came to it.

“I… N… H… O… U… S… E.”

“In house?” David said.

“Oh, God,” Alyssa breathed. She pulled herself closer to Jay.

“What do you mean by ‘in house’?” Chloe asked. But, remembering she needed to be specific, added, “Is there something of significance to you in the house?”

The candle gave a loud pop right as the planchette started to move over the letters again one by one. When it was done, it had spelled out the word “betrayed.” Chloe had to make a conscious effort not to pull her fingers away.

“Fuuuck, it’s totally her,” Riley excitedly proclaimed.

“Ask if it’s Clara,” Matt said.

Chloe looked back down at the board. “Are we speaking with Clara?”

A few seconds ticked by—and then the planchette moved. Everyone leaned in, watching with bated breath as it slowly but surely made its way back up to the top left corner. “YES.”

“Just because it says it doesn’t mean it’s telling the truth,” Nick reminded them.

Chloe’s mouth went sandpaper dry. She needed to believe it was telling the truth. Because if it wasn’t, she didn’t want to know who—or what—they were communicating with. “Thank you for speaking with us tonight, Clara,” she said. Going the polite route seemed like the safest option. “I’m sorry about what happened to you. It must have been horrible.”

There were a somber few seconds of silence—and then, unprompted, the planchette moved. It was spelling out another word. Like before, Chloe said each letter aloud.

“N… O… T… S… A… F… E.”

That time Chloe pulled her hands away like the planchette had burned her. “I don’t want to do this anymore.”

Matt reached over and gripped her wrist. “Okay, we’ll stop,” he gently said. “But we have to say goodbye, remember?”

She looked back at him, his dark eyes soft in the dim light. The feel of his fingers on her pulse, the caring expression on his face, it reminded her of the Matt she’d been in love with. But those feelings weren’t there anymore, glaring in their absence.

She found her voice. “Right. Sorry.”

“It’s okay.” He brought her hand back to the planchette, and they repositioned their fingers. There was no doubt that he was the one pushing it as he guided it down to the large “GOOD BYE” at the bottom of the board. “You should probably say it out loud,” he suggested.

Chloe nodded. She said each word in turn as he moved the planchette over them. “Good. Bye.”

“There,” he said, but Chloe didn’t wait. She pushed the board into his lap, stood up, and marched back into the bedroom.

She hurried to turn on the light and stood next to the bed with her hand on her chest, taking deep, slow breaths. Not safe. She didn’t know why, but something about the message felt like a warning rather than a threat. But it didn’t mean anything, she told herself. For all she knew, Matt could have been moving the planchette the entire time, pulling a sick prank. She wouldn’t put it past him.

Footsteps neared the room. David walked in and closed the door behind him.

“I just needed a minute,” she told him.

“I figured,” he said. “Come here.”

He walked around the bed and wrapped her up in a hug. Chloe melted into him, soaking up his warmth, burying her face in his hoodie. It smelled faintly of smoke from the fire pit. Not for the first time that night, she was glad he was there.

“It’s a toy,” he assured her after a while. “You’re safe.”

“I know,” she breathed. She gave him an embarrassed smile. “God, I feel like such a wuss.”

“Don’t,” he said. “It was creepy. But for what it’s worth, all those alleged answers sounded like stereotypical horror movie shit an edgy middle-schooler would come up with. It has ‘Matt’ written all over it.”

Chloe laughed at that. “You’re probably right.” She wrapped her arms around him and hugged herself to his chest again. “Thanks for checking on me.”

“Of course,” he said, rubbing his hand over her back. “You wanna just call it a night and chill in here? I brought my laptop; we can find something funny on to watch on Netflix, if you want.”

Chloe pulled back and smirked at him. “Are you asking me to Netflix ‘n’ Chill?”

David hesitated. “Shit, I didn’t even realize—I swear I didn’t mean it like that.”

Chloe let out another laugh. “I’m just messing with you. That sounds perfect.”

He smiled. “Cool.” He leaned forward and pecked her lips. “Get comfortable. I’ll let the others know.”

“Okay,” she said; and as he went out the door, Chloe pulled back the covers and climbed into bed, trying to put the Ouija board’s ominous message out of her mind.

It’s just a toy, she told herself. A game.

#david finlay fanfiction #jay white fanficion #el phantasmo fanfiction #elp fanfiction #matt jackson fanfiction #nick jackson fanfiction #bullet club fanfiction #horro au

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dirtyvulture · 5 months

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😎 I HATE AUTO Correct with a BURNING PASSION!!!!!! When I was writing the “ dialogue” of R discovering pads the first “ Wait” was turned into “ what” and “ your” was turn into “ our”. And not to mention that it turned “ Esther” into “ Ester”. And I get and understand people still understood it but I always double check everything before I post but that DAMN autocorrect stuck again. It just really bugs me , thanks for bearing with my Ted talk rant. Plus I sometimes really suck at spelling things .

I also tried checking on nurses in WWI and II and them wearing dog tags but I couldn’t get any information ( at lest not information about WW I nurses ) but I do know that WWI nurses had to be the ages between 25 and 35 and could have been subjected to gases and even casualties of being shot and killed. But were working in the back lines of war. While Nurses of WWII had to be ages between 21 and 40 and could not have children under the age of 14 . Nurses were also brought up into the front lines ( Working on Land , Water and Air) . The invention of pads were only given credit to WWI nurses as a whole and not individual ones . But that is not to say R doesn’t have other historical significance and records tied to her . Pictures and articles and firsthand accounts past down throughout history from her time in the wars. I already stated how she sent her time in those wars which would lend itself perfectly to all of those historical records.

I am just imagining R really fucking annoyed by the gassing after protecting her charges or was just in wrong place wrong time in both world wars ( because gas attacks happened in both ). She is holding her throat hacking up a lung ( possibly coughing up blood, gunk, and god knows what else) , her eyes sting as all hell and her eye sight is shot to all hell. The gases probably cause R’s voice to get all deep and gruff the first time( not as bad as it is now but still) . R being really annoyed by having to get the blood out of and fixing the bullet holes or other holes in her clothing after protecting her charges ( every single sick and injured soldier, other nurses and civilians - especially women and children R considered her charges) in all the wars she was in . She probably fixed and got the blood out of other people’s clothes ( R “ bicthed”up a storm “ complaining” about fixing up the men’s clothes but was happy to do so for the other nurses and for the local civilian women and children. Especially the kids’ clothes) .

For pictures in WWI Esther made R do them (alone or in group photos) as Esther was her favorite nurse or at the very least one of her favorites in that war ( I say as if I literally didn’t just put down a random vintage female name for the bit of R helping to invent pads 🤣) but R told Esther that R had to pose with her , R wasn’t doing the pictures alone. For WWII her favorite Nurse of that war was who made her do the photos again( and again R posed only with that nurse as R wasn’t doing pictures alone) . People also just took pictures of R when she was distracted tending to soldiers or the children and local civilian communities in all the wars R was in .

I am looking and saving up for my first car and when I was reading your first chapter of the darkest knight au and I got to the scene where Nat and R got to R’s pickup truck.And I was like “ Girlllll you better NOT be side eyeing the truck !!!!” 😤😤🤬🤬 Like I was soo offended on R’s behalf and the truck and that got me thinking that R just loves her truck . Like that is HER BABY ( if anyone has seen Supernatural think Dean and Baby the 1967 Chevy Impala) and lord help anyone that side eyes or comments badly on her truck.

I also love the idea that R named her truck Esther because the truck is Red ( plus as I said before Esther was her favorite) and it would be a inside joke to her and her alone or R named it Betty Carver ( From the Peggy Carter series) as R met Peggy Carter in WWII and knew her and the “ Betty Carver” of the radio show made her cry laughing. So that name amused her so much that R named her beloved truck that and made a inside joke out of it for herself and herself alone. It doesn’t matter if R remembered the full reason behind the truck’s name because it still amuses the hell out of R , she can still FEEL the inside joke there . Even if she had forgotten R knows that the truck’s name is a inside joke to herself.

Bonus points if R’s favorite nurse or one of her favorites of WWII is actually related to Esther in some way , make it a family thing . You can choose the name of the nurse and how they are related to Esther , Vulture. And if that family line severed in all the wars that R was in . If that family member in that war was R’s favorite nurse or whatever service member of the military. Double bonus points if R knows that it is a family line of people serving in wartime and that they always become R’s favorites in that war.

Don't worry about your autocorrect, we can still understand what you're saying :)

Look at you digging through history just for one little headcanon 😂 I love the dedication and thank you for sharing it with us!

I literally love Esther so much 😭 Definitely gonna try and sneak in a reference for her in a future chapter. She sounds like a really good friend of R's who she probably misses so much.

LOL Nat was definitely judging R's truck a little bit 😭 But it's good she didn't say anything out loud

There's definitely a whole line of nurses who served in wars who all know R somehow 😂 But it's like a family secret to not talk about how well R has aged and how she goes back to knowing great-grandmother Esther

#😎 anon #vulture answers #darkest knight au

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nctstany · 1 year

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Love Me Now

Pairing: Jaeyong (Jaehyun x Taeyong)

Plot: All Taeyong wants to do is finish his last two years of college in peace but since he’s the son of a famous CEO he must do something he never thought he would do even in his next life time, marry his ‘enemy’.

Genre: Light angst, fluff, angst, smut???, light smut??, language, sexual themes, family problems, *cough cough* daddy issues

THIRTEEN

Since that night Taeyong and Jaehyun don't really bump heads anymore. There is still the occasional Jaehyun getting on Taeyong's nerves. It's different this time. Taeyong feels that it's different this time.

“Life is shit.” Doyoung finished his 8th drink of the night. Taeyong met up with Doyoung and Mark since he was having dinner with Jaehyun. Apparently once Mark told Doyoung that Taeyong was tagging along that's when he really threw back the drinks.

It concerned Mark.

“Here we go.”

“No, I'm serious! What the fuck am I suppose to do next?”

“Maybe you should stop drinking.”

“Make me, you pussy.” Doyoung grinned, causing a deathly stare to be on Taeyong's face.

“Drunk people can’t feel pain right?”

“I’ll go get some water." Mark jumped from his seat.

"Help me, Tae!" Doyoung dramatically fell on the other’s lap, heart beating in his ears.

Why can't you see me?

"You're still in your twenties, nobody has their life together yet."

"That's not what I meant! I'm so lonely!" He cried into Taeyong's shoulder, making him roll his eyes while patting his friend's back. "So? Who cares?"

"I do! I mean you even have somebody and hell even Mark has a couple people that he's talking to." Doyoung was looking up into Taeyong's eyes at this point and still his heartbeat was in his ears, "I'm the only one that is alone!"

"I don't have anyone." Then Taeyong's face turned a bright red, a little happy feeling that slowly went away once he realized who the other was talking about.

"It's fake, remember."

Doyoung saw the way the other’s face fell. It made his heart ache.

I wouldn't make you feel this way. I would love you no matter what. I just wish I was Jaehyun to you.

Doyoung felt his lips on another and when he opened his eyes Taeyong's eyes were open. His eyes were wide open and it finally clicked in Doyoung’s head what he had done.

“I still need to make it look real!” Taeyong pushed the other away frantically and Doyoung looked back with confusion, “But I-”

Taeyong got up without looking back and walked off.

“What happened?” Mark asked, looking back and forth at Taeyong as he walked away and at Doyoung. He just sat there, watching Taeyong leave and his shoulders drooped down.

〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️

:Doyoung 🐰: I didn’t mean to

Read.

3 miss calls.

:Doyoung 🐰: tae call me back

Read.

:Doyoung 🐰: taeyong please

:Doyoung 🐰: I want to explain

Read.

:Doyoung 🐰: I’m sorry

I know you are……

Taeyong put his phone out and sighed, also ignoring messages from Mark because he doesn’t want to explain what happened. Taeyong doesn’t want Doyoung to explain himself. He just wants to put it behind them and still be friends. From what he could see from Mark’s unopened message this was bound to happen one day. Even if he is in this fake relationship with Jaehyun it really felt like cheating.

A thought came across Taeyong’s mind.

"Have you seen this?" Jaehyun came out of his room and placed his phone down in front of the other. It was an article with the title ‘Caught in the act’ and Taeyong didn’t even have to look at the photo underneath to know what it was.

“Why did you kiss him?”

“He kissed me, a drunken kiss. I'll explain it to my dad, don’t worry.” Taeyong tried to brush it off. For some reason Jaehyun didn't know this feeling in his chest. He looked back at the other with a serious look. Why isn't this a big deal to you?

“From the pictures you two look like lovers.”

“It does not~ we're just friends.”

“What’s really your relationship with Doyoung?”

Jaehyun never liked how close Doyoung was to him. During childhood Jaehyun was always there but around early high school is when Doyoung took Taeyong. Ever since Jaehyun has always felt………jealous around him. He found out this feeling on the day of high school prom where Doyoung asked Taeyong to the dance, as friends of course. Jaehyun knew Doyoung’s real meaning behind it, just the way he looked at Taeyong he could see. That was the way Jaehyun looks at Taeyong and still does.

“He’s my friend. Did you not just not hear me before?”

“Friend? Friends don’t kiss each other.”

“You've kissed me.” Sass left Taeyong's mouth and Jaehyun fixed his face from the flashback. God, you’re lips were so soft.

“That was different. I was drunk- whatever you still kissed him.”

“Why aren’t you listening to me?” Taeyong groaned standing up to leave, “He kissed me and I pulled away.”

It just sounded too innocent.

“Is there something going on between you two?”

“No.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.” Taeyong rolled his eyes and pushed past the other, “And you know if there was something going on it’s not your business, we aren’t actually married.”

“Fuck you!” Jaehyun got in his face and Taeyong responded with getting even closer, “Fuck you too! I can’t wait for this to be over!”

Jaehyun’s eyes went cold with a little bit of pain that Taeyong couldn't see at that moment.

“Yeah me too!”

“Good!”

“Good!” Jaehyun said it back even louder.

“Fine!” Taeyong stormed out of the room and Jaehyun yelled back, “FINE!”

His voice boomed throughout the room and he looked down at the floor.

It hurt.

It hurt so fucking much.

〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️

Taeyong didn't think that it was going to turn into something so big. Jaehyun didn't even bother to look at him this morning and that pulled at a string. It was all over social media, which Taeyong didn't notice at first. It wasn't until when he went to his first lecture that suddenly people knew his name. I didn't know my dad's company was this popular.

All day he had to dodge the questions and stares. One thing he didn't understand was that his father only called once.

"You ignored his call." Mark stated, sitting across from Taeyong with his arms crossed. His cousin hasn't stopped talking since he finally agreed to meet up. He didn't want to but Mark is a difficult person. So difficult that he basically stalked Taeyong around his campus until he finally just got into the car. Mark went on and on about the stupid picture and even kept the article saved on his phone.

It didn't stop there…… Since Taeyong is getting noticed Mark is making it clearer for everyone. Whenever someone stares or they hear whispering, even see someone point. Mark stands up and points at his cousin shouting. 'This is Lee Taeyong, the Lee Taeyong!'

Then Taeyong realized something as he stared at his cousin. My father is using you as a freaking weapon again.

"I really hate you." Taeyong said coldly and Mark grinned with a shrug of his shoulders. “Hate me all you want, you can’t ignore me.”

“Yes I can.”

"Like how you’re doing to Doyoung?"

"That's not true, I answered him………briefly." Taeyong said with a bit of guilt, knowing Mark is giving him a look that he doesn’t look at. He looks away towards the window instead. "Well what am I supposed to say to him?"

"You could just listen to his apology."

“He doesn’t need to.” Taeyong continued to look at the window, “I should apologize.”

“You didn’t know Taeyong.”

“But shouldn’t I have? He’s my best friend but I couldn’t see-”

“You didn’t know.” Mark cut him off and continued, “You shouldn’t beat yourself up about that, you know he doesn’t really share his feelings at all.”

He's right. Taeyong couldn’t return the feelings even if he thought about that. It wasn't because of the contact, he actually gave it some thought of what being with Doyoung would be like and he couldn't do it. He didn't want that, obviously he loves Doyoung like how a friend should. Something about the other way just didn't feel right. After all, Doyoung isn't the man that he wants and Taeyong knows who the one is. He just hasn't realized that yet.

“I just want people to forget about that stupid picture.”

“Right now it’s all over the place even my friends are talking about it.” Mark scrolled through his phone and showed Taeyong the picture again.

“How did Jaehyun react?”

“He was pissed.” Taeyong confessed and shrugged his shoulders from the thought, “I don’t know why. I literally told him that he’s just a friend and I pulled away.”

“You really don’t know why?” Mark scolded, “The guy that has been following you around since birth. You really don’t know why he’s pissed that another guy, that isn’t him, kissed you.” Mark laid it out in front of him but he still sat there not understanding a single thing.

“Lee Taeyong, in the flesh.”

A chill went straight down his spine, Mark’s face went white with his eyes big. Taeyong knew exactly who it was.

“I knew that you would be a pain in my ass, since one day.” Taeyong turned around and stared directly into Yuta's eyes, "What the hell do you want?"

"Hey hey, play nice there." He smiled, “We wouldn’t want another picture to come out.”

“That was you?” Mark spoke out quietly and Yuta shifted his eyes to him quickly. “Yep, it’s my job after all.”

“To be Taeyong’s stalker?”

“I just happened to see something interesting.” Yuta kept smiling and leaned down to Taeyong’s ear, “I can expose you two in a heartbeat.”

Taeyong laughed.

"Expose us? I would do anything for that idiot so try me.”

“Oh really?”

“Yeah because I love him.” His heartbeat got sent to his ears. Yuta was taken aback by the response and walked off with a wave, grinning after that the others didn’t see.

Did I really just say-

“Are you okay?”

“I’m amazing, Mark. Thanks for asking.”

#jaeyong #jaehyun x taeyong #nct jaehyun #nct jaeyong #nct taeyong #nct jaehyun x taeyong #nct taeyong x jaehyun #NCT #nct doyoung #NCT 127 #nct fanfic

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queerrambles · 1 year

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Hi! I’ve been questioning my gender lately and was hoping to maybe get some clarification? So on some days I feel more femme (I’m AFAB by the way), some days more neutral, and some days more masc, but I don’t think my actual gender (whatever that is, it just feels kinda like a cloudy blob) itself changes, just the masculine/feminine/neutral intensities. I like to imagine it like an RGB color slider, and so the amounts of each component change, but they come together to make one cohesive color, which would represent my gender at any given moment. And sometimes the color (gender) is more opaque, while sometimes it’s nearly transparent (like genderflux I think). So basically what I’m asking is if the color slider bit sounds like genderfluid to you? Because it’s just the masc/femme/neutral components fluctuating, but I feel like my gender is just always the same blob, it just changes color and intensity. So would that count as genderflux since the components fluctuate in intensity, or genderfluid since the color of the gender changes? The part I’m stuck on is that I think I only have one gender, so it’s not like multiple genders fluctuating, it’s just the parts that make up my actual gender. Ugh I’m sorry if this doesn’t make sense, it’s very complicated (you can see why I’m struggling)! It’s totally okay if you don’t have an answer, and I know I don’t have to label it, but it feels better for me to know there are words to describe what I’m feeling. Thank you so much! 🌈🤍

I think what you're describing sounds a lot like genderflux, though it also sounds very unique. I'd suggest reading this article describing genderflux if you haven't already and see if that resonates with you at all. I'd also suggest looking through the genderflux tag here on Tumblr.

If you end up feeling that genderflux isn't for you, though, may I suggest genderqueer? It's an umbrella term much like queer, only for genders, lol.

If anyone else has anything to add, feel free to!

#queer answers #queer #lgbtq+#genderflux #genderqueer

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isay · 2 years

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Tagged by @halcyonsynthesis who’s probably going to regret asking for an insight into middle aged man media...

Last Song: Cinema by Harry Styles

Who doesn’t love Harry?

I pretty much only get to listen to music in the car because while I unapologetically love jangly upbeat pop music Mrs iSay much prefers melancholy slow introspective stuff. Anyhoo when I do get in the motor so far this year its been generally a throw down between young Harry or the latest Arcade Fire album. Because I find trying to find new music somewhat tedious I also have a tendency to stream BBC Radio 2 because I am middle aged and it gives me a connection to the mother country and doesn’t have interminable adverts for Australia tile companies every 10 minutes.

All of this is considerably better than the fact that I woke up this morning with Paul McCartney singing ‘Simply having a wonderful Christmas time’ in my head. Not a fan.

Last Movie: Prey

Ok so it’s not going to win any awards but it’s a refreshing take on the Predator series and mixing in elements of The Revenant works really well. It was a toss up between this and the new Ron Howard film about the Thai cave rescue for our viewing choice this weekend but as Prey was much shorter it won out.

Now the best film I have seen in years is Everything, Everywhere, All at Once. But that’s a totally different story and you should definitely see it if you haven’t yet, it’s inventive and everything that most of what’s being pumped out by the studios currently isn’t.

Last Book:

Like @tarpo I’m not reading anything right now. I tried to read the first part of Neal Stephenson’s Baroque cycle recently but I’ve been really struggling to find the capacity to stick with anything longer than an article. I gave up.

I am looking for a copy of Robert Evans’ autobiography The Kid Stays In The Picture after watching The Offer (all about the making of The Godfather), unfortunately its not available on Kindle but I’m a sucker for Hollywood auto/biographies and Evans was a compelling character. One of my favourite books of all time is You’ll Never Eat Lunch In This Town Again by Julia Phillips, who produced The Sting and Close Encounters and who mentions Evans in a few anecdotes in her book so I’m wanting to know more. Hollywood was so much better when coke and qualudes were freely available.

I’m not tagging anyone directly but spill what’s on your lists, I need inspiration!

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sandpaperdaisy · 10 months

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How did building a fanbase go?

It’s 3 years since I penned what might be one of my most popular articles of all time, “ARE YOU READY TO BUILD A FANBASE? YEAH, ME TOO.” I started it saying that we were in an experiment together, and ended it by saying I would see you all on the other side! Far be it from me to be dishonest with you all, so here’s the results of my experiment.

BEGINNING STATS: 251 people on Twitter, 252 on Facebook, 5 on Patreon. (Something equally petite on Instagram which I did not note down.)

CURRENT STATS: 285 people on Twitter, 322 on Facebook, 7 on Patreon, and a whopping 434 on Instagram.

What a difference three years makes!

…anyway we’re going to go ahead and declare that experiment a F A I L U R E, since those numbers do not constitute what anyone reading my first article hoped to achieve when I wrote the word “fanbase.” I very much did not build a big fanbase. Just at all. Nor did I grow more quickly than before, my pace is still glacial.

THANK GOD.

Now, why would I be relieved and grateful that I’m a big ol’ Loser?

The truth is, three years did make a huge difference. The internet became EXTREMELY HOSTILE to artists, with social media algorithms becoming increasingly adversarial to content creators, API’s being torn away from developers, AI generated imagery and AI writing becoming rampant, portfolio websites refusing to protect artist work, industry leaders embracing AI processes in their products that may replace the very artists that are their core customer base, and print on demand websites hobbling certain artists by taking huge percentages of their sales (an example is another 50% on top of the 80% they took in the first place) and withdrawing many basic features of their membership.

In a battle royale situation like this, suddenly the idea of plunging into an extremely large, saturated social media pool and trying to get the attention of thousands of maybe people, maybe bots, seems … unhelpful.

But all of us have been so conditioned into thinking the internet and social media are the only way to go in order to meet new fans, that it’s going to take some doing to explain to you why I no longer think this. Let me begin by going through the experiments in my first fanbase article.

EXPERIMENT ONE: POST EVERYTHING

I did reasonably well on this, making sure to update the aforementioned social media outlets with every new print, drawing and sticker I made (that I was contractually allowed to show anyone).

I intend to keep doing this, actually. I still think it’s a great idea. It made me discard my perfectionism and shame, and I don’t miss them.

I noticed something, however. When you post everything everywhere, you do want other humans to actually look at it. In order to look at it, they have to be shown it. This generally did not happen.

Facebook, Instagram, Twitter and the like have evolved in such a manner that your feed no longer shows you your friends’ posts, in chronological order. Instead, a very tiny portion of your friends and followers will see what you post these days. And this is very often strangled still further if the sites’ algorithms determine that you committed one of these sins:

Sometimes you used too many tags and hence, were seen as spamming.

Maybe you used tags in the body of a post.

Maybe you used “forbidden” tags, which are constantly changing.

Maybe you had a link. Social media sites do not want users to LEAVE, so they dislike this.

Maybe the social media site doesn’t think that what you posted will give viewers a sugar rush and make them stay on their site longer. This is typically done by trolling your followers. You can keep them hooked by showing them a highly curated version of your life, making them experience FOMO and comment with pleas for your secret to success, or you can be purposefully nasty to everyone and invite arguments in the comments. Choosing NOT to do these things, constitutes a sin in social media website owner terms.

Did you crosspost?! How could you!! For SHAME

Did you put the same phrase like “link in bio” at the end of every post? NOT COOL

Maybe you… IT LITERALLY DOES NOT MATTER (IF YOU HAVEN’T FIGURED THAT OUT YET).

Social media can be helpful (I guess), but at the end of the day, the website owners are hoping you will be their unpaid employee constantly trying to game their algorithms by posting things specifically geared to make people stay on that social media site longer, so they will be served more ads. Even better, you can pay the social media site to boost your posts! They would love you to do that.

They certainly don’t want you to direct traffic away from their site to maybe spend money on your art or learn more about your projects. …which was kind of the whole reason your busy, exhausted butt was TRYING to use social media for your art business.

So that’s a problem.

EXPERIMENT 2: POST YOURSELF MAKING IT

I did my best to take WIP shots of stuff and upload them to TikTok and Patreon. This is of course, a fraught endeavor these days since people can now feed your WIP to an AI generator and make a piece that they claim as their own.

But we’ll ignore that for the sake of SCIENCE. To continue:

I don’t have a video setup or the disc space to do screen recorder, but the one time I did break my long suffering computer and storage drives to have a drawing video, nothing came of it. So this one I can’t really say I threw myself into, but again, no matter what I posted, people would have had to have seen it for it to help sooooooooooo.

EXPERIMENT 3: TELL OTHER PEOPLE HOW TO MAKE IT

I’ve come to the conclusion that I don’t actually know how to make anything properly, so I didn’t do this experiment much even though I still believe we should pass on what we know. I am however slowly building up a trove of extra linoleum block cutters in case I get the opportunity to teach a lino carving class.

If I were to try and pass on my digital art skills however, we come back to the lil’ wrinkle of everyone and their mom currently being able to mimic digital art somewhat effectively.

As we professional digital artists and designers start hitting the bread line, I don’t think I’m going to be seriously inclined to tell young dewy-eyed artists that they should totally learn to make digital art. At least, not until the current AI insanity blows over or takes a more manageable form.

EXPERIMENT 4: DON’T BE A FAKE FRIEND, EVEN IF YOU THINK YOU SHOULD

I have indeed been making more of an effort to be sincere in all of my interactions. But since I never had the issue where I had too many fans to pay proper attention to, I never had to limit my interactions with them. When you have one comment a week on a platform, you can most certainly read all their comments.

Instead I ended up largely discarding my advice here, and did my best to get to know the couple of followers I DID have because I’m small enough to DO that.

I’m seriously starting to think that getting to know one single person over the years might be leaps and bounds more helpful than having a high follower count or high post “engagement,” because that one single person might tell one other single person about you, away from the computer, out in the world. Then the three of you could start viewing each other in a much more human context than all the internet social media fairyland we’ve been stumbling blindly through for the last decade.

Maybe distance and scheduling mean you do have to use the internet to communicate. But what if the three of you went to a more forum- or chat-like setting where you could talk in long paragraphs, share links, not spend one second thinking abut tags, not get throttled or shadowbanned or buried in a feed, and in general just communicate however you actually want?

So I would alter this to say:

EXPERIMENT 4.5 ELECTRIC BOOGALOO: DON’T BE A FAKE FRIEND, GENUINELY MEET AND GET TO KNOW PEOPLE ONE PERSON AT A TIME.

This is something I can only do because I am extremely small.

When I managed to get into the 2023 Indiana Arts Commission On-Ramp Cohort, my suspicions were confirmed over and over again about how important this granular, personal approach is. I went to an intensive class for three days and met a small cohort of fellow artists as well as some great instructors and other people in the industry. And again and again, I saw how important it was to just take my time to get to know each one of them.

If I continue to get to know them as individual people, taking my time and being helpful when I can, sharing insights and laughs and commiserating with them, who knows how we might enrich each others’ lives.

But you know what I CAN’T DO? I CAN’T deepen these relationships with real people I met out in the world and also be trying to chase down a horde of mythical social media followers!

Can’t do it. I don’t even know who these people are, if they are people and not bots, and if the social media sites will ever show anything I make to them. So how can I spend all my time on that mirage?

EXPERIMENT 5: LET PEOPLE INTERACT WITH YOUR ART

I mean. I’ve done my very best to make my art as accessible as possible to the dozen or so people who see it. And I think this is good! No matter what, I will still be making new art and making it as easy as possible for people to discuss and share, I will always let them know where to see me in person, and of course I will make it as easy as possible for them to buy the art they like.

So I wouldn’t make any changes to this one at all. Since I know my posse well enough to know where they spend their time online, I’m literally just going to do everything with the aim of showing it to these SPECIFIC people. Because they’re REAL and I KNOW I LIKE THEM.

There’s an old saying, “When you grasp at the shadow, you lose the substance.” This has been proven very true in my case. Chasing shadow people has claimed decades of my life.

Wow, shadow people are real dicks! At least there’s only one more experiment.

EXPERIMENT 6: JUST MAKE WHAT YOU WANT (UNLESS PEOPLE PAY YOU I GUESS)

I thought up until a couple of days ago that I was being really good about this one, because the jobs I’ve had recently have just been fabulous. Projects I adored working on. So I’ve definitely reached the point where other humans that I like, hand me money to draw things I like.

But in the last couple of days, I went through my planner books and was horrified to see all of the personal projects I haven’t finished, or in many cases started.

So while my clients gave me what I considered to be reasonable deadlines and gave me subjects I loved, I was still ignoring myself as a client. I was doing lord knows what, off chasing shadow people I suppose. Selling out too. But while my sellout efforts at least gave me some money, the shadow people (the fanbase building) just sapped my time, energy and faith in myself.

So for the first time in my entire art life, I can say with conviction:

I DO NOT WANT TO BUILD A FANBASE AND I AM DONE TRYING.

That was not at all the result I was expecting! In my 3 year fanbase experiment I still met new people and got enough jobs to keep me busy. That puts my results in the net positive, so usually I would conclude, “Hey it’s slow going, but it’s going! And just think, at some point it will snowball and then…”

But that’s not where my path led me after all. Instead, it made me want to GO SMALL OR GO HOME.

Now I want to dictate my social media posts ONLY to the people who want to hear from me.

That would exclude artists I admire and have tried unsuccessfully to cultivate in the past. It would exclude famous or successful people who could publish me or give me “my big chance,” if only they would notice me. It would exclude me from blindly chasing numbers because “If I can just show I have a built-in fanbase of buyers, I can get into that gallery show or find an agent to publish my book no problem!”

In fact it would exclude trying to court or woo anyone human, much less spending any time at all pleasing an algorithm. Instead of today’s social media approach it would be like a chat, or how livejournal or forums used to be.

Back in those days, tags were there to make it easy to cross reference your own posts, not to try and get you seen on clogged feeds. You didn’t worry about an 80/20 rule where you post other people’s things 80% of the time, and then you didn’t turn around and wonder why no one who DID go to your profile never saw anything about your art because your entire feed was other people.

You didn’t worry about some random person leading a mob of opinion against you, because you weren’t trying to reach out to a sea of people you didn’t know in the first place. You also didn’t worry about being doxxed or stalked, because you had the ability to be more anonymous and private while STILL talking to other people. Your personal information wasn’t demanded far and wide just so you would be more efficient to track for marketing purposes.

I think it’s time to admit that for some of us, social media failed. The hits that our self esteem takes coupled with the attack on our sleep are bad enough. Add to that the sapping of our limited time for pursuits that are far more rewarding and enjoyable. Social media sites are designed to suck as much time out of you as possible, and when you play to the algorithms you are aiding and abetting the website in doing this to others.

SO I’VE DONE IT, I’VE COME OUT THE OTHER SIDE.

But instead of coming out the other side from obscurity to fame, I came out the other side from caring deeply about building a fanbase to only caring about supporting those who support me. If we’re meant to be buddies, we’ll find each other! I have faith in us, even if I don’t have faith in social media or a “fanbase” anymore.

I’m off to go live my life, and that’s the way I’ll find people from now on.

See more from the Art Tips series.

#art #artist #business #fanbase building #algorithms #social media #heather landry #sandpaperdaisy #art tips #real talk #confessional #strategy #business success and failure #AI risks to artists #AI risks to business

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yourtoradorasextendedwarranty · 1 year

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Since Apparently

So I have a notification by someone and I’m not going to read it because they are a dishonest shill as far as I'm concerned and referred to me as “Propaganda” because I happen to be a left libertarian (little L), and want to call out others on my “side” as it were, to try to make people more aware, I’m just going to share the stories I was referring to in my post to make a point.

Boy assaults multiple girls while in girls bathrooms (assumed trans because they wore a skirt) -https://wtop.com/loudoun-county/2021/10/loudoun-co-judge-rules-teen-sexually-assaulted-girl-in-school-bathroom/

Women getting pregnant in prisons due to sharing prisons with biological men. -https://www.indiatoday.in/world/story/women-prisoners-new-jersey-pregnant-from-trans-inmate-1938062-2022-04-15

Detransitioning numbers rising *reported from several sources* -https://www.foxnews.com/health/detransitioning-becomes-growing-choice-young-people-gender-affirming-surgery -https://www.reuters.com/investigates/special-report/usa-transyouth-outcomes/ -https://www.theatlantic.com/ideas/archive/2023/01/detransition-transgender-nonbinary-gender-affirming-care/672745/ -https://nypost.com/2022/06/18/detransitioned-teens-explain-why-they-regret-changing-genders/ -https://segm.org/first_large_study_of_detransitioners

I’d post links about LGBT “Q-mmunity” views on cis people but you can do that on your own just looking up the tag “Cis” on this hell site.

Lesbians feeling pressured to have sex with biological men -https://www.bbc.com/news/uk-england-57853385

The list of things that puberty blockers do is numberous. More so when you factor in long term effects. Also note, that “scientific” health journals are using terms like “assigned sex at birth” which is THE MOST unscientific term I’ve ever heard in my life. Sex is not “Assigned at birth” It is observed. And any clinicians that say otherwise have lost the fucking plot. And frankly deserve to have their creds removed.

But here are some things that happen along with a number of other effects.

And a plastic Surgeon talking sense about worries in regards to surgeries and hormone blockers. -https://www.desmoinesregister.com/story/opinion/columnists/iowa-view/2023/03/19/puberty-blockers-concerns-plastic-surgeon/69990751007/

The NHS now going ON RECORD and saying that long term use of Hormone blockers are NOT reversible, which if anyone read a book they’d understand. Mostly because the “Oh yes they are reversible” argument intentionally removes what happens when your bodies natural puberty starts to slow and stop. Of which you never get a come back from. Once you miss puberty, you miss it. All the development associated with it? Gone. Immune health. Brain development, bone development, height, sex characteristics, fertility, etc. All of that? It doesn’t just restart. It starts from where it thinks it needs to. If you are on blockers for 5 years, you MISS 5 YEARS of body development in ALL IT’S FORMS.

Preferred pronoun laws etc and liberal use of words like “Harassment” -https://www1.cbn.com/cbnnews/us/2021/november/could-californians-go-to-jail-for-misgendering-state-supreme-court-weighs-preferred-pronouns-law -https://www1.cbn.com/cbnnews/world/2023/march/uk-preacher-reported-as-terrorist-after-disturbing-misgendering-arrest-wins-big-after-legal-nightmare -https://www.breitbart.com/tech/2021/03/18/canadian-man-jailed-after-misgendering-his-daughter/ -https://www.christianpost.com/news/uk-mom-formally-charged-after-arrest-for-misgendering-trans-activist-online.html

But no all of this shit is just propaganda. None of it is ACTUALLY REAL. And don’t make me go on Twitter, or strait hate groups on Twitter, HERE, and Reddit to prove my point about indoctrination of youths. But here is one anyways. And this is not the only story like it -https://www.foxnews.com/media/florida-father-daughter-suicide-school-counseling-gender-identity -https://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/article-10445195/Catholic-father-files-lawsuit-daughter-attempts-suicide-gender-identity.html Oh and this story? THIS STORY is why the Parental Rights in Education law was passed in Florida.

But sure. Call me a “Good example of propaganda”. Jackass.

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mainscompany · 2 years

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Datagrip sql

Datagrip sql driver#

Datagrip sql full#

Datagrip sql software#

Datagrip sql trial#

Datagrip sql full#

The SQL syntax is standard Spark SQL so we are free to use the full capabilities of the language. This style of working makes it really easy to explore our data as we're building our pipelines. Click on a table to view the records from that component.The DataGrip catalog should be filled in, with each Dataflow should be present as a different schema with each component mapped as a table.

Datagrip sql trial#

DOWNLOAD A 30-DAY TRIAL FOR DATAGRIP One of the most important activities for anyone working with databases is writing SQL. It supports PostgreSQL, MySQL, SQL Server, Oracle, and many other databases. It even analyzes your existing databases and helps you write. DataGrip is a universal tool for dealing with databases. It has auto completion support for SQL language. Although this article will go through the setup. DataGrip is a SQL database IDE from JetBrains. Click the database connection, select “ All schemas”, then hit the "Refresh" icon. Using Ascends JDBC / ODBC Connection, developers can query Ascend directly from SQL tools like DataGrip.

By default DataGrip does not include any schemas.

Switch to the Options tab to enable the connection as "Read-only".

Test the connection to ensure the setup is correct.

Enter the Username and Password from an API Token linked to a Service Account.

Fill in the host with your Ascend domain in the format.

If you encounter difficult connecting, you will likely need to download the Hive Standalone JAR for 2.3.7 from Maven Central and use that JAR instead of the one embedded in DataGrip.

Datagrip sql driver#

The Apache Hive Driver that ships with DataGrip is version 3 and Spark is only compatible up to version 2.3.7. For the data source type, prefer Apache Spark if present, otherwise use Apache Hive. "You get what you pay for" - The paid tools are worth the cost if you can use it to full extent. You can get a connection to SQLite going very easily though, and unlike other databases it doesn't require a server per se (or to be more correct the server is self contained in the driver). To create an instance, run SqlLocalDB create 'DEVELOPMENT' 14.0 -s. A cross-platform IDE that is aimed at DBAs and developers working with SQL databases. You will see a list of available LocalDB instances on the server. What is DataGrip A database IDE for professional SQL developers. Locate SqllocalDB.exe and run the SqllocalDB.exe i command in a terminal. And as a first step, check if your LocalDB instance is ready for a connection. dBeaver - SSMS, Azure Data Studio, Oracle development studio - Snowflake UI, GBQ Builtin UI DataGrip is still a great tool for learning SQL, but there's generally some additional setup involved in getting a server running that they simply don't cover. You can easily connect to your LocalDB instance with DataGrip. The tools native to the system are more than enough. Select the Databricks driver that you added in the preceding step. On the Data Sources tab, click the + ( Add) button. VSCode - Pycharm + DataGripįree tools should not be ignored as they get the job done well. Use DataGrip to connect to the cluster or SQL warehouse that you want to use to access the databases in your Databricks workspace. This means, the development environment should cater to general needs and/or scripting. I'll summarize some of the response:įor general DE needs, a scripted approach seems to be consensus.

Datagrip sql software#

MY RECOMMENDED READING LIST FOR SOFTWARE DEVEL. Toad, data grip, dbeaver etc.Īny recommendations / opinions on IDE & why?Įdit: Thanks for the feedback. Wondering if you should buy Jetbrains DataGrip Learn if its worth the price tag in this super quick review. I have been using sublime and atom as text editors with syntax highlighting but I have been looking into full fledged IDEs e.g. Just curious about the IDE's that other people use.

#Datagrip sql

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wikifoxnews · 2 years

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Who was Olivia Pratt Korbel ( Girl , 9, was killed at her family home , Suspect arrested ) Wiki, Bio, Age, Crime, Arrest, Incident Details, Investigations and More Facts

Olivia Pratt Korbel Biography Olivia Pratt Korbel Wiki

Police have arrested a 34-year-old man suspected of murdering nine-year-old Olivia Pratt Korbel in Liverpool.

The youngster Olivia Pratt Korbel was shot dead when a gunman chased convicted robber Joseph Nee to his home on August 22. A bullet went through Olivia's mother's wrist before striking the young man in the body, mortally wounding her. She was taken to hospital but was pronounced dead later that night. Last week officers kept an eye on West Derby Golf Club looking for the two pistols used in the attack.

Suspect Arrested

The police have now arrested a total of ten people in connection with his murder. The previous nine have all been rescued and no one has yet been charged. Man arrested on suspicion of the murder of Olivia Pratt-Korbel https://t.co/AZyxsDysQo — Art Hostage (@ArtHostage) September 30, 2022 A Merseyside Police spokesman said this evening: "The investigation into Olivia's murder is ongoing and we continue to ask those with information to come forward to help us bring those responsible to justice.

Reward

Lord Ashcroft last week pledged a £50,000 reward for information leading to the arrest of his killer through Crimestoppers, of which he is chairman. It comes after Olivia's mum made a heartbreaking plea to find her daughter's killer, telling them "you know you were wrong". From the night she lost her daughter, Cheryl said, her hand wrapped in a bandage: "She was amazing, she loved life. She was my little shadow. She went everywhere with me. "She didn't like school because she had to work, but she liked school because she was with all her friends. "Everyone she met fell in love with her. “He tagged everyone he met and he may only be nine years old but he's done a lot in his nine years. "She never stopped talking. And that's what I miss the most because I can't hear her speak. "I hope they take a step forward so this doesn't happen to anyone. "You know you were wrong, so you have to admit it, like I taught my kids. You are doing something wrong, you admit it.” This happened when Olivia's classmates were counseling after her death upon her return to school. Rebecca Wilkinson, Headmistress at St Margaret Mary Catholic Primary School in Huyton, said: "What has been great since the children have returned is the memories they have shared of Olivia and over these three sad weeks it has been really heartening those memories to hear that the children shared from her. "It brought good luck in a very tragic situation to hear these memories." Since their return after the summer holidays, the school's 480 students have been offered help. Read the full article

#investigation #JOSEPHNEE #MERSEYSIDE #MURDER #OLIVIAPRATT-KORBEL #REBECCAWILKINSON #Robber #Suspect

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hollyhomburg · 3 years

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Before I Leave You (Pt.4)

(Omegaverse au, Mafia au, Bts x Reader)

Summary: Yoongi makes his choice, so does Moonbyul.

Pairing: Beta! Yoongi, Omega! Reader, Omega! Jungkook, Omega! Seokjin, Alpha! Namjoon, Alpha! Hoseok, Alpha! Taehyung, Alpha! Jimin,

Tags: Graphic material, Death, Murder, Dead bodies and dying described in detail, brief suicide attempt, suicidal thoughts, depression, DARK THEMES, guilt, blood, a touch of blood kink? drugs, murder/crime themes, guilt, kinda fuck or die vibes? finally fluff at the end, mating marks,

W/c: 7.1k

A/n: here is the moment you’ve all been waiting for! the big d word moment!!! my carpal tunnel is acting up, I will probably not be able to get the next chapter out for a few days or until next week. Chronologically the next chapter continues after part 1.

(PLEASE READ TAGS FOR CW BEFORE YOU PROCEED)

Previous part — Masterlist

Part 4: If I Have You

Pulling the trigger is the easiest thing you’ve ever done.

Geumjae’s body flinches back from the force of the bullet. The ceiling splattering with the spray of his blood. It hits the side of your face too, your white shirt crested with red at the shoulders, dripping down your throat along with the blood from your mating bite. It’s a percussive splatter, noisy as it hits the wall.

People never talk about how blood gets everywhere during a murder. Yoongi is unable to stop his flinch when Geumjae’s brain matter and viscera splatter against him, just a little.

Yoongi didn't think you'd actually do it.

He watches you shove the body away from you, hard, what's left of his head, an empty vessel, hitting the floor with a hollow thud. His hands leave you for the last time, but the pain isn't finished.

Yoongi barely has the forethought to lunge forward, knees scraping, wrestling the gun out of your hand before you can turn it on yourself. The barrel of the gun is hot when Yoongi's hands close around it and yank it away from your own temple. The smell of burning skin joins the metallic scent of murder. Your scent is a mess- it’s barely had a chance to mix with Geumjae’s burning wood-burning bread and wrath, rainstorms, and gunpowder.

He shouts your name but you don't respond.

Yoongi yanks the gun from your hands, probably hurting your fingers but panicked when he hurls the gun to the other side of the room and takes your hands in his, wrestling with you and screaming your name until the fight goes out of you.

You’re hyperventilating when you stop struggling. Both of your wrists pinned above your head in both of Yoongi’s hands, his knees pressing your legs to stillness in a way that could be sexual but isn't- it's the easiest way for him to restrain you- both sprawled on the bloody floor. Yoongi’s crying, tears dripping down his nose, every other drop shines pink from what's on his face.

“Yoongi please- please just let me go- I don’t want to become a ghost- I don't wanna become a walking corpse.” The way you look breaks his heart, your neck so bruised and bloody, your face swelling too from Geumjae’s hits. The way your eyes hold only darkness and no warmth as you look at him and beg- beg him to let you take your life. Your pupils are so small he can't see them at all.

“Let me die Yoongi- please just- if you do one thing for me- let do this. let me go."

Yoongi looks at your mating mark and can already see the thin tracery of ink spreading under your skin- inky blackness spreading from your mating bite and up your throat. A piece of someone who’s dead inside of you, shot through with silver to make it stand out more.

It’s like some silly zombie bite in a bad horror movie but it’s so much more haunting, The veins in your eyes are even starting to discolor. You have maybe a few minutes before the mating bite takes you over completely and you’re mated to someone dead.

Zombie movies were nothing more than fear of this taking root in common culture, everyone fears losing their mate. What else is more terrifying than something that takes your humanity in the way that this has taken yours. This is every person’s worst nightmare- a death sentence.

‘Ghosts’ are what society has dubbed the women and men who live after losing their partners. Most of the time they live without alpha or a pack- unable to bond to anyone else ever again once their mates are dead. Mating bites are a one-time thing.

When one-half of a mated pair dies- a person's body has a peculiar way of letting outsiders know how to treat them gently- The mating mark turns black like a brand. A mark to let everyone know that they would never have another person to take care of them- to love them.

But you aren’t alone- you’re not alone because you have Yoongi and he’s right here with his wide palms on you. Hands that where always made to fix things, but you aren’t just some broken toy that needs a bit of glue. He’s too late, just seconds too late and only inches away.

He grips both of your forearms in either of his palms hands, pulling you closer. Making you sit up, dragging you into his lap like carrying your weight in his arms will fix this. Anything to hold onto you- to not lose you too soon.

"Stop- just stop, I've got you- I've got you," Yoongi repeats it more for himself than he does for you.

But there are wounds in your body that can’t be fixed by simple hoping. There is a limit to what one person can take. Despair is one hell of a drug and while Yoongi fights and fights there is no undoing what Geumjae has done to you.

But maybe…

Yoongi dares to hope; “It’s only a half bond if we-“ he falls silent as the idea settles over him like a bucket of cold water. His brain rushing over everything he’s ever learned about mating bites and beta’s; all of the statistics and articles that Namjoon had shoved down his throat when Jungkook had first stopped having seizures.

The medical mystery that betas were; how they were able to heal unseen hurts and maybe- maybe this was like that. Maybe the solution to this problem lays in Yoongi’s veins, in his mouth.

His jaw aches at the very suggestion of it. “I’m a beta- and betas don’t usually mark- because- because they’re stronger than alpha and omega bites.”

It’s the only truth that makes sense. All of the stories of omegas and alphas going crazy after being bitten by betas, not being able to move from them too far, extreme clinginess- a bond that was too close, too strong, stronger than anything else in their life. You weren’t supposed to bond with someone so deep, the bite almost seemed to do more harm than good.

But you’re already dying and there isn’t much worse that could happen to you.

You don't have anything to lose but Yoongi does. You shake yourself free from his arms and pull back. Recoiling from what he’s offering to do for you; tether him to you forever when you might not make it.

You can already feel the mating mark taking hold- It's already starting to cloud your judgment, deep down, the part of you that cares if you survive this is already winking out. The blankness sinking through your every inch, The emptiness. You’d be surprised if you lifted your hand to your chest and found your heart still beating.

“Yoongi- No- you don’t have to- you’ve already got a pack and don’t- don’t bind yourself to someone like me.”

It’s the same argument that you had before but there’s no force behind it- every stupid excuse you had for him not to love you is moot now that your husband is dead next to you. But you're done; Every breath takes more effort than it should and you feel so heavy. You look down at your lap and feel the lethargy sinking beneath your bones like lead. Hidden hands gripping around your throat cutting off your words.

You feel like you’re choking on something.

You’ve felt depressed before (how could you not have given what your life was like before Yoongi). And having a mating mark from someone deceased feels like that but worse, like it's turned up by a factor of three. A weird mixture of dizzy, absent, and dissociative. You have never felt less connected to your own body, it feels foreign.

You are nothing but a soul inside a body, craving release. A thread of black that wants to tug you down to where ever Geumjae is now.

The sinking sadness says to you with gentle hands- this is a fine spot. You can just sit here, It’s okay. You don’t have to move, you can just sit here until you die. As long as no one bothers you and hurts you again, you could just sit here, as long as it was quiet and peaceful. Things don't even have to be good, you don't need good things, you just need it to not hurt anymore. Until the earth reclaims you like it takes abandoned buildings.

A sharp pain that goes through your heart, an ache so deep that it speaks to cavernous places, wakes monsters that you didn’t know where there.

You’ve never really wanted to die before, maybe as a passing thought- but didn’t everyone think that way? it’s so different now- where the thoughts are all consuming, running over your words in your head like oil spreading and staining cloth.

Die- want to die- want- want- want die- wanna go- wanna be quiet- wanna fall asleep and not wake up- want to-

But if you decided to lay here and not get up again, Yoongi would stay too.

He would try and get you to move, probably beg and try to get you to live. Even if he never bit you, he’d stay next to you until the end, just to hold your hand so that you didn’t have to be completely alone. You thought dying would feel more lonely, But maybe it doesn't feel that way because Yoongi’s here.

His hand closes around yours, his thumb rubbing soothing circles as he cries. And you think if you want one thing; it's for him to stop crying. Out of all people- Yoongi doesn't deserve the hurt (but maybe you're biased because you love him).

That tips the scale in his favor.

Geumjae’s blood is pooling on the floor. His body gives a twitch, the last remnants of his misfiring nerves as he dies. You feel the painful jerk in your mating bond. Yoongi watches the muscles of your neck twitch.

Neither you nor Yoongi pays him any mind.

"You don't have to do this Yoongi." Yoongi’s hand on your cheek- is like a balm to those words, pushing them out of your head. “You can’t take it back. If I die- you could die too.”

“But I want to” he kisses your cheek- and the contact lights a flame down your neck to your touch starved heart. The heat flares to light and the next second your body and your mouth are aching to bite. Your instincts an avalanche around you begging you to complete the bond that’s tearing through you making you shake. He kisses a little closer to your lips, cheeks wet and cool against your skin.

Geumaje and Yoongi were related by blood at all, maybe your instincts can’t tell the difference.

“I don’t care if it does- I can’t- I’m not going to just let you die” his voice breaks on the last word. Not when it was me who was too slow to save you; He won’t say the words or whisper his guilt into the open air.

“Please sweetheart- let me.” He kisses your lips. So soft- achingly soft, Your first kiss, you wish it had happened under better circumstances.

You hate that the first kiss you and Yoongi share tastes like blood.

But there would be more- there could be more kisses if Yoongi manages to do what he’s saying he can. The mark on your shoulder is already healing, the blackness stretching to scar treacherously fast. Normal mating bites usually take a day or so to heal, but not yours, it’s already scabbing and sealing in the poision.

If you’re going to try this- if it’s going to work- it has to be now. The bond is advancing, regardless of the fact that Geumjae is barely dead, barely cooling beside the two of you.

It’s barely been 10 minutes since you shot him. And if you listen carefully- you can hear sounds in the rest of the house, maybe someone else from the gang here- about to come upstairs and discover the mess of you three. muffled voices and heavy footsteps grow louder by the second.

Yoongi is safe but you’re not. “Yoongi,” you say, his name a broken hymn on your mouth. Musical- and Yoongi can’t think of a time when he wouldn’t want to hear it. Hoping for more of this closeness and maybe one day, a love that doesn’t hurt.

You get the feeling that even if you are broken beyond repair, this man could fix you. Wide hands and careful fingers that rub the blood away from your skin, hands made for making things and mending things when they break. And maybe you’re selfish enough to let him bind himself to you- broken as you are.

You press your forehead to his, you have to ask one more time. "Are you sure Yoongi?"

He nods, quick and small, "I'm sure." there isn’t anything in his eyes that makes you doubt him.

"Okay," you say softly, tugging him closer, tilting your chin up to the sky, your skin stings where it stretches around the mating mark. "okay. Come here then."

Your hands tangle in Yoongi’s hair as you guide his mouth to your throat, and his mouth sliding into the space where Geumjae was just minutes ago. He lingers for just half a breath before sinks his teeth over the mating mark, a little deeper- his mouth a little wider. He makes the bite a tiny bit offset.

Your breath hitches, back arching. His hands-on your waist go hard, holding you closer to him, as close as he can get you. Unlike before when Geumjae’s bite was agony, this feels like heroin- like every drug mixing together sending you up and up.

If you looked down and saw your hands were tipped in gold you wouldn’t be surprised. For a second you think you can taste colors, and then the chocolate sea salt of Yoongi settles over your tongue delicious, like ambrosia- fuck it’s so strong, it’s halfway between a headache and a high. You gasp when you feel it, feel Yoongi all over, Goosebumps rising on your arms as he touches you. The smell of ocean breeze and chocolate filling you in a way that Geumjae’s scent didn’t.

Geumjae’s bite was nothing compared to this, a whisper to a symphony.

This must be what a mating bite feels like when you want it. You cry out. Gripping the lapels of his coat. Yoongi’s heartbeat thunders in your ears, the only thing you can hear, until the beat matches to your own, heartbeats pumping in sync.

Your blood tastes sweet and he wonders what it says about him that he likes the taste. He gulps at it- once- twice- and then a third time just to make sure the mark sticks, maybe he could suck a little bit of Geumjae out of you.

His kisses get feverish, lapping up your blood with wide laves of his tongue, moaning a little. and this time when you kiss- with your blood in his mouth, they get hurried and rushed like he can consume you, each one sweeter than the last. There is one moment of nausea, only one moment where Yoongi sees the black tracery receded and feels it dim.

Maybe it’s not gone, but at least it's buried.

Yoongi can almost feel you, can almost feel the bond, but not yet. Your scent, it's all cake-sweet now. You kiss him until your jaw aches until your lips feel bruised. Until you know the sounds below actually are people, rushing around trying to find Geumjae. Calling out your names.

Yoongi is the first to break apart, the room spinning. “Do me” he lifts the edge of his shirt, picking out a spot that he likes, the meat just above his hip. A spot is half-hidden by his shirt and his pants.

Not everyone likes to have their mating marks on their neck (you certainly would have chosen to have yours another place had you been given the chance). And Yoongi stretches out so that you can get your mouth on him, your mouth on the spot he wants to bind your soul to his.

He holds one of your hands in both of his hands so gently as you cup his hip and bite down, even as you begin to make out the noise of gang members coming up the attic stairs. Yoongi bites down a moan, lets you take one gasp of blood into your mouth before your teeth leave his skin.

The high rushes over him and he knows his pupils are mirrors of yours, black and dilated. He just has time to wipe his blood from your mouth and get you as close as he can, before the attic door creaks, the barrel of a gun pushing it open. And the gangsters enter the room with practiced steps.

Yoongi pulls his shirt back down just before they have a chance to see.

You play the part, slumping against him and letting him take the reigns. the people must take it for pain even though you’re shaking not with sobs, but from the feeling of Yoongi’s soul intertwining with yours. Full body shivers and something solidifying between the two of you.

Together you shake, Yoongi is barely aware of the gangsters clearing the room.

You feel like you can taste his thoughts, though you can’t actually hear what he's thinking. You can feel the way they tumble like small waves over each other. You feel concern and something else, something that feels an offal lot like love shoot down the fledgling bond as Yoongi’s arms pull you up, firmer against him.

It makes shivers rise on every inch of your skin, the pleasure he feels when he touches you that you're now hyper-aware of. It's what your body has been craving- the completion of the bond.

You both bleed- your blood dripping onto the floor. One part sacrament and sacred love and another part poisonous longing for a man you hated so much more than you ever loved him. This feels strange, it feels wrong, and that you have one part of you reaching out for something that’s not there. And then this- with Yoongi, right and front of you and inside of you. Completely occupying your heart and your mind and your body.

Accept for that one poisoned inch; you might not be completely his, but it's enough now, the bond with yoongi occupying those thoughts you'd had minutes before.

The gangsters don’t touch Geumjae, at least until Moonbyul enters the room, unarmed. Yoongi’s cousin eyes Yoongi from the door. There isn’t enough room in this torture room for the 12 or so gangsters and the three of you, they press against the walls, guns at the ready.

Moonbyul approaches Geumjae’s corpse, turning him over with her foot to see his blankly staring face, turning it towards the heavens instead of hell. For a moment, Yoongi thinks she might actually kick him. She plucks her pink handgun from the floor. Someone passes her a rag and she wipes it free of blood and fingerprints.

Her eyes on Yoongi are hard; a bit of mirth playing on the edge of her mouth as she plays her hand. A queen in a room full of pawns and knights, and the king underfoot. Her hand of aces.

Betting it all on a simple game of roulette- red or black- will Yoongi challenge her or not. Yoongi doesn't miss the way her finger hovers on the trigger.

“I suppose this entire situation would be concerning to me- if you hadn’t already named me as Don.” she nudges Geumjae's body again with her foot. "I guess he didn't take it well?"

She lies effortlessly, taking the moment to seize power. So this was what she was waiting for. Yoongi doesn’t challenge her words for fear of what she might do right now, not that he really would anyway.

Yoongi tips his head forward in difference, “No he didn’t,”

Moonbyul tucks her gun back into her waistband, and holds out her hand to pull yoongi to his feet.

Yoongi takes you with him, small and still a little high in his arms. You hide your face in Yoongi’s shoulder, Holding onto him tight. You don’t know if you could take it if they tried to separate you now.

Yoongi has to swallow to continue, struggling to think before he speaks with so many new sensations shocking his body. He's intimately aware of the way you shift in his arms, arms tightening around you at the very idea of you moving more than an inch away from him right now as you settle onto your own two feet. still a little unsteady.

“He- he mated her against her will, and then he tried to kill us when I told him I wouldn’t- and- and after-” It’s not a lie- not really, but it still feels that way. Moonbyul doesn't need to do anything more than that to nod to call her men off, and they all relax around the room.

They instantly fade from engaged concern to understanding. The other heads of household will probably grill Yoongi more. But you’ve both got time to get your story straight. For now, they need to clean up the body.

It helps that threatening the beta is a punishable offense; no one will question Yoongi killing him- especially since they’re brothers. Most of the families tend to think that inner house spats that family's business. Yoongi doesn’t know which of his relatives will inherit the title of head of the Min family, but it won't be Yoongi.

You’re small and silent in Yoongi’s arms, so vulnerable, he keeps you a few paces away from any of the mobsters, bites down a growl whenever any of them come too close to his mate. It’s just the mating bond making it’s self-known. You are his. No one can touch you.

Yoongi has never been a possessive man, but now he is. The mating mark tearing through him and screaming at him to protect, to provide, to nurture, and keep safe. He strokes down your back as his cousin quietly orders the others to clean up the mess and Geumjae’s body. The family has cleanup crews on call for this very reason.

They quietly offer to burn the house down to stage the death but Yoongi doesn’t care. He guesses it belongs to him now or maybe you. It depends on which bond the family will consider more important; the bonds of a half mating or the bond of brotherhood.

“I’ll handle it-“ his cousin has the good grace to offer comfort to Yoongi that way when he gets you into her car. she doesn't say anything about the dents in the side.

Yoongi doesn’t quite hate her for any of this, but he doesn’t trust her the same way he did before either. She’s gotten what she wanted- the Don position. Plucked it from Yoongi’s hands.

“You haven’t had a chance to call the heads of house and tell them about your decision yet, but after that, you should be free to go” she reads him easily as always, The only other manipulator up to par with Yoongi himself in the gang. She knows that not an inch of Yoongi wants to stay in this house or this city a second longer.

At the idea of leaving you to straighten up in Yoongi’s lap to listen in a little more, you share a look with Yoongi. Your mate, your body sings the eye contact makes you shiver in your seat. Yoongi pulls you closer, stroking up to your arm mistakenly thinking you’re cold. You pull yourself closer to him- but it feels like you can’t get close enough, He makes a dissatisfied noise in his throat.

Yoongi will have to get used to this feeling. Like his soul is walking outside of his body. It feels incredibly vulnerable and intimate- He can feel your panic, how physically you’re being torn apart right now, every few minutes you shake. Yoongi puts your legs over his and holds you close. Watching your face closely for every twinge of pain as the lights of the city flicker over you two.

The meeting with the heads of house is tense, though the usual group of is two short now, standing only at eleven members now that Geumjae is gone and Moonbyul is named Don. You cannot be Don and a head of house at the same time.

It takes every bone in Yoongi’s body to let you be taken into the other room by Moonbyul’s mate to check over your injuries. He stops her with a hand on her shoulder. He catches Moonbyul’s nostrils flare, but she doesn’t say anything. “Would you look at her bruises for me?”

Later Yoongi will check them himself, again and again until he's sure you're all right. But the sooner you get ice on the nastier bruises the better off you’ll be. Someone should look at your ribs and your head too- he has half a mind to take you to the hospital before you leave the city. He doesn’t know how long it will be before you’re stationary again. He’d stay in the city tonight if you needed to. But he can feel your panic down the bond, The sooner you both get out of here the better.

With Geumjae dead there is no true opposition against his cousin's rule. She stands at the head of the table like she’s meant to be there. And still- the heads of the families talk through the night, kicking the non-proverbial dead horse into the ground. There is little mourning for Geumjae, one granny who cries faintly in the other room while the heads argue. Yoongi supposes he should look more upset, but no one pays attention to him now that he’s made his choice.

No, what they spend most of the time discuss is you. Sat in the other room, able to hear all of this, the men and woman weighing your fate and deciding what to do with you. If Yoongi listens, he can hear Hyejin’s quiet voice. Can feel your discomfort as the ice hits your ribs, maybe broken, definitely badly bruised.

Yoongi flinches every time he feels the pain pulse down the bond. Maybe in time, it will feel less sensitive but right now- Yoongi can feel your hurts just as bad as he can feel his own. A part of him is reaching out into the other room, screaming in his ear to go comfort his mate.

He has a mate. Yoongi can scarcely believe it.

The gangsters around the table remain blissfully unaware of that fact. Most of the heads are on the same page, and he won’t reveal his mating mark unless he absolutely needs to, he will let that secret stay secret unless necessary. It’s a good bargaining chip. They wouldn’t kill you if they knew it was going to kill him too. But still- it’s hard to hear them argue over your fate when he can’t intervene.

“You know the rules- no divorces and no separations,” one alpha says, he’s older- nearing 60, but Yoongi can’t excuse that cruelty with age. The youngest, the head of the Ahn house does the rebutting for Yoongi, and he bites his tongue.

“But it wouldn’t be a divorce; she’s his widow now and his ex-mate technically.”

“Yes but that’s only a half bond.” There is only one omega head, and the woman snubs her long cigarette out on the table leaving an ashy circle

“It’s only the alpha bite that matters- or have you forgotten?”

To her credit, the omega doesn't back down. “Chances are she’ll die anyway why are we even talking about her, we should start transitioning already.”

“That’s easy to say- if she’s got nothing left to lose what’s to stop her from going to the police.”

“I can keep an eye on her,” Yoongi volunteers, jumping at the chance to turn the discussion to his favor. They can all go fuck themselves if they ever dare to try and hurt you. “You say she’s as good as dead anyway. So you shouldn't mind if she comes with me.”

The likelihood of anyone living after their mate dies is in the teens. Yoongi knew that and even then he bonded to you anyway. He can only hope that with his bite coursing through your veins and your body confused that you’ve got better odds than that. Yoongi did what he promised to do, now your odds are both 50/50. “I’ll make sure she doesn’t go to the police.”

Through the bond he can feel your curiosity and a little bit of fear too, you’re listening in. And he does his best to let his calmness comfort you too. Your panic instantly relaxes and he senses you reaching out. If you were next to Yoongi you’d be holding hands, and it kind of feels that way. If you could ever hold hands with someone’s soul.

“You realize that if you make her your responsibility, anything bad that happens will fall on your head as well” their betas might be sacred- but they aren’t free from the rest of the laws of the gang.

“I understand.” The Don lifts her head, regarding Yoongi with a heavy look. “She’s his widow and whether we want to address it now or not, the law says she’s inherited his wealth.”

It's met with immediate opposition, several heads of house start speaking over each other at once, but Yoongi speaks up again, shouting over them. A beta raising their voice is about as strange as one giving or getting a mating bite, everyone falls silent. “Give it to me or her- I don’t care.”

another few minutes and they’re ready to let you go. they vote on it, and only 3 out of 11 heads vote to have you killed. Moonbyul gives the all clear, “Then you’re free to go.” Yoongi doesn’t even say goodbye, going to you in the other room just as quickly as he can without outright running. The Don’s mate is crouched in front of where you sit. Your body is mostly clean of blood and you’ve been put in other clothes; a pair of sweats and a baggy shirt.

Yoongi can see all the bruises on the side of your face turning purple and Yoongi wants to cup your face and bring it to his, kiss away the pain coloring your skin like watercolors, but can’t do it here. “Do we need to go to the hospital?”

“Not for her but maybe for you, no ones checked you over yet, have they?”

yoongi grits his teeth, seconds away from snapping at hyejin, he wants her to get away, get as far from you as possible. “i asked if she needed the hospital.”

Hyejin stands when Yoongi crouches. shaking her head when it becomes clear yoongi isn’t to be argued with right now. “There’s something wrong with her- but I think you know what” her eyes hover on Yoongi’s hip.

So at least she’s figured it out. She has the good sense to utter the words quietly. Though the people in the other room aren’t concerned with Yoongi anymore, they’ve already launched into discussions about transitioning power and re-defining responsibilities. It seems Moonbyul had a plan on how she wanted the family to run from the beginning.

He shakes off his annoyance, “Thank you,” he says to the omega, holding out a hand to you, which you take, still not saying anything. Tiredness holding you down to the chair. The same kind of look you’d had when Geumjae had died. The mating mark has been taped over but some of the blackness is still there. Yoongi wonders when it will fade, if it ever does.

“I wish I could say I’ll see you soon but I don’t think I will.” You and Yoongi nod, your hands twined between the two of you. She knows that neither you nor Yoongi has a love for the gang. No one stops you and Yoongi when you leave the house. Immediately hailing a taxi. You stop only at Yoongi’s safe house for a spare 20 minutes, while he packs up a fraction of his belongings in a hurried rush, anything to get out before someone tries to change their mind.

If Geumjae had any hidden loyalists the beta that killed him and his runaway wife would be the first targets. Let alone their reaction if they knew who had really killed Geumjae. The quicker the two of you get away from the city the better.

You end up at the train station, Yoongi breaks the bracelets off of your wrist- the same ones that he saw you wear on you the first night- and the ones that he’s always thought looked like shackles. He yanks at them as hard as he can until they snap; kissing your wrist after each one is off. You throw them over the side of the chain-link fence and into the darkness- to be lost forever you hope. The symbols of all you’ve lost.

When you get on the train, you cuddle close under Yoongi’s jacket and into his warmth. He’s a protective barrier between you and the third seat that thankfully remains empty this late into the night it’s so late it’s nearly early morning. Most of the train is empty besides an elderly couple at the front. Regardless, the two of you sit behind them. Yoongi can’t take his eyes off of the potential threat. Actually flinches when the conductor comes around to stamp your tickets.

You head off into the night- your little box of light in a sea of street lamps and hidden dangers. You almost fall asleep a few times, head bobbing as you catching yourself before it hits his shoulder. After the third time this happens he pulls you in close, tucks your head close to his scent gland, and commands “sleep” in a voice that you cannot disobey.

Eventually, you wake, the car is bright with the midday sun and the car is half full. Yoongi’s eyes are bloodshot as they train on every passenger who comes in and leaves your train car. Yoongi holds your hand, rubbing his thumb up and down the back in an endless trail. A conductor opens the door of your train car to pass through, bunching a few tickets here and there from the new passengers who have boarded the train.

He passes by where you're bundled and Yoongi flinches so hard it wakes you fully. his shoulder accidentally nudging a bruise on your cheek, He murmurs his apologies, panicked hands fussing over you. He could feel that he hit one of your bruises and the horror of hurting you make him wide-eyed and worried. You catch his hands, pressing the pads of them to your lips. Yoongi's hands shake as they touch you, hours later, he's still high on adrenaline.

“You need to sleep Yoongi” it’s been a long few days for both of you.

He doesn’t answer with more than a grunt. But you get off the train at the next stop and it’s nearing noon by the time the two of you stumble across the street to a motel, and it’s shitty and smells like cigarettes and the lady at the front desk asks if you need the hourly rate or the daily rate. Though she does give you a discount because Yoongi’s a beta. Eyeing the blood-soaked collar of his jacket and the bloody bandages on your neck.

You should be holed up somewhere safe away from prying eyes to adjust to your new mating bite- not in a hotel where the smells of other people assault your nose. Making you press close to Yoongi because everything smells so new and scary. Like your senses have been turned up and only Yoongi can quell their sensitivity.

you don’t realize that the attendant gave you two beds until you get to the room. you both stare blankly before you cough and separated. the closeness too much now that you’re alone and free from threats. Though it doesn't feel that way.

you hate it- you don’t want to curl up across the room from Yoongi- you want to be next to him. you almost whimper when he He steps away to the other bed to set down his backpack. You want to cry, your skin feels irritated and itchy without his pressed to yours. You want him to touch you but you can’t stay it. Don’t know how to ask around the thickness in your throat.

He gets a clean shirt from his black backpack and helps you put it on so that you don’t irritate the mating bite. You can’t lift either of your arms much and neither can he but he pushes through the pain for you. He only has 2 or three sets of clothes that he grabbed from the cottage, and it’s all you’ve got.

“We’ll get some more clothes for you tomorrow.” He doesn’t say that you should have grabbed some of your clothes- because you both know you couldn’t handle staying in that house a second more than was necessary. You barely thought to linger long enough to grab your purse, which thankfully had everything you really need in it.

Somehow he has athletic tape in his bag, and he spends a few minutes changing out your soaked through bandages, bundling up toilet paper, and taping it over your mating bite. Only after yours is taken care of does he let you do the same for his bite on his hip, and the burns on his hands.

You pull his pants off and then his boxers down just enough so that you can get at it, small from your mouth, the skin around it irritated and pink. You try not to let your eyes hover on the small happy trail that traces from his belly button downwards. The band on his boxers is stained with blood- and you wonder how much it hurt to have it dig into it all day.

You curl up in separate beds, and only when you’re under the covers do you slide off your pants. leaving you only in a large shirt that smells like yoongi. Yoongi does the same, says “goodnight” and shuts off the light but doesn’t turn away from you, keeping his eyes on you in the darkness.

You’re silent for a few minutes, but you can tell that neither of you is falling asleep. Your bed feels cold and you wonder if he feels the same, you let the distance hurt for a minute before you give in.

"Thank fucking god-" He peels back the blanket for you the second you make the move and dash across the cold room. you scoot into his warmth and he lets out a little ‘oof’ when you collide. Letting him pull you closer, put the blanket over your back, and make sure all of your skin is covered.

It’s not enough for Yoongi and he pulls you sideways so that he can get some of his weight on top of you. A growl building in his chest at the thought of anyone walking through the door right now.

He needs to check the lock, make sure that no one can possibly disturb you. Needs to- the instinct filling him so harshly he can’t breathe. He tries to pull away, but your hands tighten on him, and you let out a whine so heartbreaking that instantly has him releasing comforting chocolate, flopping back on top of you nuzzling under your chin, you feel like you’re drowning in it.

Your love with Yoongi is still too new and raw to be close like this without feeling shy- and yet you can’t resist, your mating bond is like a fresh burn that you can’t stop picking at because it hurts. (Like there’s something dead there that you need to get rid of, you can’t heal around, you need to tear it out so that it feels more like bleeding rather than something that was carved out by hungry heat.) You fiddle with the bandage at your neck before Yoongi takes your hand in his, lacing your fingers together.

For a moment, you crave the release that blood might give you- and like he can feel it. Yoongi presses a kiss to the back of your hand. “Couldn’t sleep?” Yoongi says. You shake your head. The motel creeks and overhead you can hear someone else moving in an adjacent room. Yoongi gets his head on your pillow and adjusts his hand around your waist so that he’s not hitting the vicious bruise that Geumjae left with one of his kicks.

The last 24 hours have been such a tangle. It feels weird to not move now. Yoongi’s heart is still hammering; you can feel it under your palm. You’re both unwilling to relax and close your eyes even for a second even though you’re both exhausted.

You’re worried if you close your eyes you’re going to see Geumjae's face.

Yoongi left the light in the bathroom on for you. Sensing that the shadows would be too thick with nightmares for you to handle for long. You look at each other in the darkness before Yoongi lets out a shaky little giggle.

“Do you know what I just realized?” he says, the words quieted against the too scratchy bedspread. “We could have gotten a better hotel, we easily have enough money for it now” and that’s true.

If Yoongi’s orders were followed and the gang's accountant really did transfer all of your inherited wealth to your name then- fuck- both of you saw the bank statements. Both of you know how much money Yoongi’s family had amassed- the same wealth that Geumjae had inherited and now you.

“Fuck you’re right,” you say, ducking in so that you don’t have to meet Yoongi’s eyes. Geumjae used to hit you sometimes if you did that- and trained habits die-hard.

yoongi kisses your brow, slow little pecks that travel down your cheeks, as unhurried as they are sweet. It's strange to be close to him now when it’s all you’ve wanted for the last few months. You never thought you’d get this. It feels like a daydream and a nightmare all at once.

“We could buy a whole house- or three” and even then you’d have more than enough money to live on after. For the rest of your days, comfortable and cozy even if you were foolish with the money. Yoongi still gets his stipend from the gang. No doubt to be greater now that he’s the only beta.

He stops his kisses, mouth hovering on your cheek, “We could do that.” he sounds like he’s barely containing his excitement.

You’ll both be fine. Neither of you will ever have to worry about money again and it makes you feel sick and happy with something that feels a terrible lot like grief.

Even if you got that- the last 24 hours haven’t been worth it. You’re not entirely out of the woods yet. The mark on your shoulder is scabbing over and inky. But every few hours of closeness that the two of you have- Yoongi think’s he sees the color fade- just a little bit.

You don’t know where the giggle comes from but one moment it comes out of your mouth and you laugh, and Yoongi joins in the sound startling out of his chest. He presses his forehead tight against yours and sighs at the sound. You see the moment clarity falls on him and an idea settles into his mind the second it hits. And dim happiness settles over your bond.

Yoongi lifts your hand to his mouth and kisses your bruised knuckles. “Let's buy a house.”

You smile- tired from today but still willing to placate him. “Okay Yoongi, we can do that.”

Now finally, his eyes are starting to droop, every few seconds he tries to keep them open, but you know he's seconds away from sleep. His words slurred when they whisper, his sweet chocolaty breath tickling your cheeks. “Goodnight sweetheart- love you.”

“Love you too,” it’s the first time you’ve ever said those words to each other. It feels like the first of many times you’ll say it. Forever- you and Yoongi will be mated together until you both die. And who cares if that happens tomorrow or months from now. Who cares? Because you have him and that’s all that matters.

Yoongi holds you and knows- that he will love you- as long as he can.

He watches you sleep, waits until your eyes are closed. Until he can make sure you’re safe and warm. A gentle purring fills the hotel room, soft and peaceful. yoongi hears it louder when he presses his ear to your chest. He tries to keep his eyes open, but somewhere around the second hour- they fall closed.

Neither of you dream.

—————

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