#maybe I will finish it someday. but I’m pretty satisfied with this so no probably not

[ohitslen]

Teamwork!

What if I did this and never finished it. What then.

[anarmorofwords]

Hi! You're probably not going to like this ask, but before getting into it I'd just like to say that this isn't meant as Kamala hate or anything, and I don't really want to offend.

Having said that, wouldn't it make sense that we get to see how Kamala treated Anna after she came out? It's in all likelihood one of the things that's weighing on Anna the most.

Obviously Kamala had her valid reasons: her parents aren't as liberal as the Lightwoods, she believes (knows?) their love is conditional as she's adopted, she's not white and not being heterosexual could further any treatment she's suffered from being different... Her reasons have already been listed multiple times by multiple people. Kamala has the right to stay in the closet and fear coming out. And while that shouldn't be villianised, we can't forget that closeted people can harm those around them.

If Kamala had kept treating Anna like a good friend, rumour would've sparked, and even if it was denied, she'd have been harmed by merely associating with Anna. Especially with the life Anna began leading; she could have been labelled as one of Anna's 'conquests' by the Clave. That, as we've established, is detrimental for her safety.

But at the same time, it would create a breach between Anna and Kamala. And Anna had the right to be hurt by it and weary of it when Kamala said she wanted a relationship.

If we look at it from that perspective, Anna's actions (though inexcusable in how they treated Kamala --who was also at fault for not accepting a negative for four months) make sense. Kamala wasn't only a fling of a week*, but also the girl she lost her virginity with, who asked her to be her secret (until she married Charles, after which Anna's affections would be discarded), who hid her sexuality for two years and sat back while Anna suffered from homophobic commentary, and who now wants a relationship hidden from most of the people that know her.

Kamala shouldn't be forced to come out; but the harm that can do to the women she may engage with is reflective of what happens nowadays. I can mostly think of examples with gay men, so my apologies in advance. But how many women have seen their marriages ruined by their husband having affairs with men?

Creating characters that reflect a toxic part of the 'hidden' LGBT community shouldn't be seen as hating or villinifying. Thomas isn't out and he isn't labelled a villain by the narrative --because his actions don't harm anyone. The hate Alastair gets in-universe is because of his past as a bully, not because he's gay. Matthew's not fully out and he isn't villianised --like Thomas, because the decisions he makes to keep his sexuality hidden don't impact anyone negatively.

I'll even go as far as saying that not even the narrative villianises characters like Kamala and Charles. If it were, they'd be seen more like Grace in Chain of Gold. We'd see how Kamala's actions are affecting Anna's in more ways than anger (that in itself put the fandom against Anna), and the characters would note so. We wouldn't see scenes were Cordelia empathised with Charles, nor Matthew said he loved him.

Be it as it may, Kamala and Charles represent ugly parts of being closeted that can naturally occur when someone is in their position. LGBT people are human. Humans, when put into very difficult situations (and Charles risks his career; Kamala her safety), can make decisions that harm those around them. Consequently, the people they're harming have a right to feel, well, harmed in whatever range of ways --this goes mostly for Alastair, and very partly for Anna, whose treatment of Kamala was horrible.

Readers need to understand what is pushing these 'villianised' characters to harm (again, mostly for Alastair) the more prominent characters and go beyond how they are instantly depicted. Because these are complex characters based on complex real people influenced by very ugly realities we will move on from someday, but sadly not yet.

By the way, Charles and Kamala's situations aren't that similar beyond the closeted thing, but I crammed them together because of a post I saw you reblog.

Please understand I'm not justifying Charles's actions; that I understand the pain he's put Alastair through, and know that he shouldn't ever be near Alastair. Nor am I trying to justify Anna's actions nor hate on Kamala.

I'll just finish my pointless rant by adding that I do think cc has sensitivity readers. I think she asked a gay man to go through tec (I don't know if he still revised her other books, though), and know she asked POC's input when writing someone for their culture. I don't know much beyond that, but I doubt who revises her stuff is up to her. Wouldn't that be something the publisher is responsible for (honest question)?

*I've also noticed people using the argument that they didn't know each other long enough for Anna to harbour such ugly emotions towards Kamala, but Kamala also remembered Anna pretty deeply and is 'in love' with her. I just wanted to say that considering cc writes (fantastical) romance where someone can ask a woman they met two months ago marriage, stressing over time spaces doesn't make much sense. Just my take.

hi!!

alright, where do I start? probably would be best with stating that while I can analyse Kamala's situation with what I know/see/read about racism and discrimination and reasonably apply things I've read/heard from PoC to the discussion, as well as try to be as sensitive about it as possible, I'm still a white woman, so not a person that's best qualified to talk about this.

that being said - if someone wants to add something to this conversation, you're obviously more than welcome to, and if there's something in my answer that you don't agree with or find in some way insensitive or offensive - please don't hesitate to call me out on that.

back to your points though: (this turned into a whole ass essay, so under the cut)

I don't think Anna shouldn't be able to reminiscent on Kamala's behaviour/reaction to her coming out, or be hurt by it. what bothers me is the way CC talks about it - I can't remember the exact phrasing, but the post where she mentioned this suggested something along the lines of "you'll see how Kamala sided with the Clave and didn't defend Anna after her coming out", therefore putting the blame on Kamala and completely disregarding the fact that Kamala wasn't in position to do much at all. It suggest that their situation was "poor Anna being mistreated by Kamala". therefore I'm afraid Kamanna's main problem/conflict will remain to be portrayed as "Anna having to allow themselves to love again and forgive Kamala", while Anna's shortcomings - and Kamala's vulnerable position - are never discussed. I think it would be possible to acknowledge both Kamala's difficult situation and the possible hurt her behaviour caused Anna without being insensitive towards Kamala's character, but it would take a really skilled - and caring - author to do both of the perspectives justice. CC would have to find a balance between being aware of the racism/prejudice Kamala faced/ writing her with lots of awareness and empathy, and still allowing her to make mistakes and acknowledging them. As it is however, I'm under impression that she's just treating it as a plot device, a relationship drama.

I'd say no one expects characters of color to be written as flawless or never making mistakes, it's mostly the way these mistakes are written and what things these characters are judged/shamed/

And that's - at least in my understanding and opinion - where the problem is. it's that the narrative never even addresses Anna's faults, and portrays Kamala as the one that caused all - or most of - the pain, without ever even acknowledging her problems and background.

White characters in TLH make mistakes and fuck up - because they're human and they're absolutely allowed to - but the thing is, non-white characters aren't afforded that privilege. Anna's behaviour is never questioned - none of it, shaming Kamala for not being able to come out, dismissing her desire to be a mother, or any of the questionable things she did in ChoI. Same with Matthew, James, Thomas. Alastair and Kamala however? they're constantly viewed through their past mistakes, and forced to apologize for them over and over, forced to almost beg for forgiveness. Moreover, those past mistakes are used as a justification of all and any shitty behaviour the other characters exhibit towards them now, which is simply unfair and cruel. They're held to a much higher standard.

So I'd like to say that yes, Kamala was in the wrong to keep nagging Anna after numerous rejections, and she was in the wrong to not inform Anna about Charles prior to them having sex - but that doesn't give Anna a free pass to constantly mistreat Kamala. And let's be real, Anna isn't stupid - while at 17 she could be naive and uninformed, I can't imagine how after years of hanging out with the Downworlders and numerous affairs and being out and judged by the Clave she's still so ignorant about Kamala's situation. I definitely think she's allowed to be hurt, but to still not understand why Kamala did what she did? Anna isn't blaming her for not telling her about Charles earlier - which would be fair - but instead for refusing to engage in an outright romance with her. She's being ignorant - and consciously so, I think.

Overall, I think you're definitely right about how coming out - or staying closeted - can be messy and hurt people in the process, especially in unaccepting environments/time periods, and I've seen enough discourse online to know there will never be a verdict/stance on this that will satisfy everyone. I, for one, would really like to refrain from putting all the blame on a single person - but, at least the way I see it, CC is pointing fingers. maybe not directly, but she is. Kamala, Alastair and Charles have no friends or support systems, and the only people in the narrative that defend them are themselves (ok, Cordelia does defend Alastair from Charles, but not from shitty takes about him and his "sins"). Also, sorry, but I don't like how you say "hid her sexuality for two years and sat back while Anna experienced homophobic comments" - it sounds very much judgemental. Kamala had every right to do that? The fact that she slept with Anna doesn't means she owed her something, and certainly not coming out and most probably destroying her life, or even defending her at the - again - expense of her own reputation, or more possibly safety.

As for Charles - it's a different issue here, at least imo - I fear that it'll be implied that his refusing to come out will is his main "sin", and therefore not something he can be judged for, which ironically, will be villainizing, but mostly will mean his actual sins are dismissed. This is where the scene with Cordelia feeling a pang of sympathy for him comes into play, and it worries me. I've never hated Charles for not wanting to come out, but rather for, let's see - grooming Alastair, disregarding Alastair's needs and feelings, disrespecting his mother, being a sexist prick, being low-key far-right coded "make Shadowhunters great again" etc.

As for sensitivity readers - I'm no expert, so I don't think my input is worth much. From what I've gathered from multiple threads/discussions on twitter, tho it is probably consulted/approved by the publisher, many authors push for that - and authors less famous and "powerful" than her. I'm not a hater, but seeing fandoms' opinions on much of her rep, I think she could do better. Because if she does have sensitivity readers, then they don't seem to be doing a great job - maybe they're friends who don't wanna hurt her feelings? Or maybe she thinks a gay guy's feedback will be enough for any queer content - which, judging by the opinions I've seen from the fans, doesn't seem to be true.

Again, these are mostly my thoughts and I'm more than open to reading other opinions, because *sigh* I really don't know how to handle this.

Bottom line - I really really don't want to be hating on the characters in general, playing God in regards to judging the struggles of minorities, or even criticising the characters too harshly for being human, flawed etc. What my main issue is is how CC handles those complex and heavy topics.

I hope I make sense and this answer satisfies you somehow - I also hope someone better equipped to answer might wanna join this conversation.

* I desperately need a reread of TLH before I engage in any more conversations like this, but I didn't wanna leave you hanging. So yeah, I might be remembering things wrong. Again, let me know, I'm very much open to being corrected as well as to further discussion.

* I use she/her pronouns for Anna because that's what she uses in canon

[nevertheless-moving]

Suicidal Misunderstanding Part Three: SW Time Travel AU #27

Part One

Part Two

Obi Wan woke with a dry mouth and a moderate headache. A fairly typical morning these days. 

He peered around his bedroom in the temple confused. Wasn’t he just with Cody? Shouldn’t he be on the Negotiator? No wait, the war was over, Cody tried to kill him, and the Negotiator was a part of the Imperial Armada, of course he wouldn’t be there. He closed his eyes, snuggling back under the covers. Before he could drift back to sleep, his sluggish mind processed that last thought. 

He BOLTED upright in bed. The temple had been razed, his personal chambers scorched with particular thoroughness. Just being on Coruscant was an automatic death sentence. Faint tendrils of panic began to curl around his throat before he remembered his decision to give Spice a try. He had reasoned that he should probably find at least one pleasure in his new life, instead of focusing incessantly on what was lost. 

So what if he lost a few brain cells? Good riddance. 

Obi-Wan had been a bit nervous, but this had ended up being his best decision in years. His goodbye to Cody had been painful, but deeply cathartic. Spice Hallucination Anakin didn’t scream like Nightmare Anakin, and the color of his eyes was perfect. Far better final memories to cling to than reality- a reminder of the good times. Comforted, he relaxed backwards in bed, pulling his blankets back around him.

He LURCHED out of bed, covers tossed aside, movement a blur.

He was still hallucinating?!? Spice shouldn’t last in the system this long! He might’ve been uncertain about whether he was supposed to smoke or snort the substance but it was a well known fact that its exhaustive but rapid passage through the body was half what made it so addictive. If nothing else, his well-restedness and thirst indicated it had been at least six hours. He looked frantically around the room, searching for some thread of unreality to pull at.

This...was not good. Hadn’t the subconscious manifestations of his friends mentioned drugs that interacted poorly with force users last night? He had dismissed it at the time but...

He clearly was stuck in some sort of drugged fantasy combined with force-enhanced memory recall. Kriff, he had to wake up in the real world before he died of an aneurysm. Or just dehydration.

He sat on the ‘temple floor’ to meditate. This could be tricky as he couldn’t risk lowering his outer shields to reach out to reality. It would be deeply embarrassing as well as horrifying if the Emperor managed to find him and, by extension, Luke because he got stuck in a bad spice trip.

The door to his room clicked open quietly. 

“Oh! You’re awake. Sorry to come in without knocking, Master. I wanted to let you sleep, but I’ve been checking on you every two hours to make sure you were still, you know, breathing. You were...pretty out of it last night and I would be a pretty bad ‘best friend in the whole galaxy’ if I let you choke on your own vomit, right?” His blue-eyed Padawan explained with a grin.

Obi-Wan just stared. Oh this- this hurt. It was easier last night, when the whole fantasy had a kind of drunken blurriness. Sleeping and waking had brought sober clarity to the dream world. He could see the bags under Anakin’s eyes as well as the sheepish slouch of his shoulders as he instinctively ducked at the door frame. It was just so real.

“Obi-Wan? Are you feeling ok? Do you still feel drunk?” Anakin asked concerned.

Obi-Wan shook his head. He hesitated, before deciding to just go along with the interaction. He didn’t want to risk his subconscious throwing a less idylic scene at him by pretending to ignore this one. And besides, last night had been, all totaled, a huge relief- an unburdening of things left unsaid. This was probably the closest thing to therapy available to him these days, he might as well take advantage.

“I’m just...processing. Not to mention dealing with some mild dehydration.” He finally answered.

“Processing, huh? So does that mean you, uh, remember last night?” Anakin asked nervously.

“I do.” Obi-Wan smiled gently. As heart-wrenching as this was, it was also adorably sweet. Maybe it was worth it to push off waking for a little while. He could get some closure, maybe even work through some of the past to see where the two of them had gone wrong. It might even be helpful for Luke! Force willing, he would probably end up training Anakin’s son someday.

(the boy wouldn’t have many masters to choose from)

If this dream world could help him figure out specifically how he had failed as a Master, then he owed it to the galaxy to see it through. Satisfied, he resolved to let the fantasy play out. At least for a few more more hours. And...he had missed what Anakin had said. Wonderful start.

“I’m very sorry, Anakin would you mind repeating that? I was still a little distracted, but I promise, I’m focused on you now.”

Anakin shuffled nervously. “It’s nothing.”

Obi-Wan tried to project reassurance without actually projecting. “Please Anakin, I’d like to hear what you have to say. I know I wasn’t the most observant or approachable Master, and I’m sorry for that. But I have always cared about your thoughts and feelings.” It was a struggle and the words caught in his throat, but the raw burn of the apology was cleansing in an almost addictive way.

Anakin flushed. “Did you mean everything you said?” he asked nervously.

“I’d...rather not talk about seeing the destruction of the temple, seeing you... Maybe later...but please, I just don’t want to focus on it while I’m sitting here, looking at you,” Obi-Wan said quietly.

“That actually wasn’t what I was talking about,” Anakin responded quickly. “I mean, I do want to help you with that at some point, but I get not wanting to talk about visions, even if you should probably should. Of course if you do want to talk about that stuff, that’s more important, but since you don’t we can talk about the other stuff you mentioned. I was more referring to, you know, us, and what you said about our friendship?” his voice got progressively higher the longer he rambled. 

Obi-Wan thought back. “Well some of it is a little hazy, but overall yes. I...for a very long time I’ve considered you my best friend, and its not so easy for me to let go of my affections. I miss spending time with you; there are times I turn to say something and am still shocked you’re not there. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, with real words, how much I cared. I’m sorry I didn’t hug you as much as I wanted, looking back that was a nonsensical Jedi custom. It’s not in the code; it’s just an affectation of dignity. All things considered, the fact that you often snuck out to see Padme doesn’t really bother me.” He paused. “Was that everything?”

“Oh. Yeah, that pretty much covered everything.” Anakin looked embarrassed, but happy. “I wasn’t sure if you were just saying that stuff because you were drugged, or really drunk or something.”

“No, I meant what I said. I suppose it just took an altered state for me to relax enough to actually say it instead of just thinking at you and assuming you would know. I must admit, its difficult for me to maintain this emotional honesty without feeling drunk, but it’s good. This is good.”

“Ah, that’s... wow. So you weren’t drugged? Cody was concerned you seemed to off for much you actually drank.”

Obi-Wan frowned. Hadn’t that been a trip? Vision blurring from desert hovel to some nameless Catina he once visited with Cody. The continuity since then was almost unsettling. But, then again, Obi-Wan always did have a remarkable talent for self-delusion, didn’t he. He waved away the concerns.

“My substance consumption was entirely deliberate and exactly what I needed. There might have been some unknown additions with some unforeseen after-affects, but like I said- I’m not drunk. I’m clear minded and in full control right now and I knowingly accept the current fallout from whatever I took. I could meditate and force purge to completely recenter, but I think it would be far wiser to just see where this goes. Do you disagree, Anakin?”

Anakin grinned widely. “Whatever you say, Obi-Wan. Just remember this is your idea. Also, I’m taking you to the healers tonight if you’re not completely back to yourself.”

Obi-Wan signed, “If I’m not back to myself in 12 hours, than I fully agree that’s a problem worthy of the halls of healing.”

“Right,” Anakin nodded decisively, “I’ll go get you some water then comm Cody to tell him you’re still alive.

Obi-Wan smiled weakly in response. This wasn’t just a hashed up memory; the responsiveness was more that. He quickly got dressed, hands lingering over soft fabrics and sand-free linens.

Anakin dropped off a cup of water; Obi-Wan sipped at it hesitantly. Dear force, this was dangerously vivid. It actually felt like a relief in his parched mouth. Clearly his subconscious was pulling out all the stops to trap him in this soft delusion. He would have to deal with the thirst and hunger until he woke up- it was probably the firmest link he had to his real body.

He took one last look around before rushing out of his room, eager to take advantage of the time.

Anakin looked nervously up from the comm when Obi-Wan started pulling his boots on. “You’re not going out in the temple like this, are you?”

“Of course! I want to visit the gardens and the Room of a Thousand Fountains. Not to mention spend some time with a few of the other Jedi. You might still be the dearest being in my heart, but there were other Jedi that I care for, and dammit I’m going to tell them that.” He finally finished lacing up his left leg and moved to the right.

Anakin was dumbstruck, presumably as burnt by the ‘dearest being’ comment as Obi-Wan was. Then he rallied, “Wow, wow, No. You are not running around the temple drugged so you can, I don’t know, give Mace Windu a hug. I thought when you said you were going to ‘deal with the fallout' from whatever the kriff you’re still on, you meant you were going to lounge around the quarters all day!”

His former padawan physically blocked the door when Obi-Wan started to leave, sounding vaguely hysterical, “You can’t run around loopy! You’re a High Council Member!”

“Not anymore,” Obi-Wan replied bitterly. 

“What do you mean not anymore,” Anakin said fiercely, grabbing on to his shoulders . “Did they kick you out? Is that why you’re acting crazy? Did you resign?”

Obi-Wan responded by pulling Anakin into a hug, which was immediately returned, “Of course not, don’t be absurd. Fine, I suppose I’m technically still a high council member, it just seems like a bit of a moot point.”

“What the kark does that mean? You used to dream about being on the council! You’re the wisest Master in any of those stupid chairs!”

‘Master of the High Council’ Kenobi just sighed heavily in response. He maneuvered around the confused errant Knight and into the hall. 

"Obi-Wan wait! At least eat something first! Or let me put my shoes on!”

“Very well, you have one minute to make yourself presentable. I only have a few hours before I’m going to need to get back to reality, and the longer I linger the more I fear extreme measures may be necessary.”

“What does that mean?” Anakin shouted from inside. “Extreme measures sounds really ominous, you know.”

“I’d rather not get into it, alright? Let’s just enjoy the here-and-now, eh, ad’ika?

Anakin crashed out the door with less than a second to spare. “What did you just call me?"

“Ad’ika,” Obi-Wan answered, striding down the hallway in the direction of the hanging gardens. “Surely you must have picked up some Mando’a from the troopers?”

“Yeah, but I wasn’t sure if I heard you right, bu- um- ori'vod,” Anakin fumbled out. “Uh, you’re not going to call me that in front of anyone else, right? You do remember that the council already gives us the side eye for over-attachment right?”

Obi-Wan hummed thought fully in responded. “There are far worse things a Jedi could do than admit to affection they already feel. Maybe if I had been honest about my attachments, they wouldn’t have ended the way that...” he trailed off quietly.

“The way that what,” Anakin asked frustrated. “You’re really giving me some emotional whiplash over here, and I’m starting to think that putting off dragging you to the healers is a stupid idea.

“There are far stupider things a Jedi could do,” he responded cheerily. “Oh look, there’s Plo Koon. MASTER KOON!” He shouted, startling the Kel Doran Jedi.

“Yes, Master Kenobi?” He replied slightly concerned as the two human Jedi came jogging over.

“I just wanted to say that I consider my former padawan my family. I raised him, I care for him deeply, and I don’t want to let go of those feelings.”

Plo Koon nodded seriously in response. “I feel just the same about my former padawans, and the Wolffe pack, of course. Denying my attachments isn’t, personally, a practical way to handle them. I’d rather honestly live as an imperfect Jedi than pretend to be a perfect example of the code. If I must have some imbalance, I’d rather it be an excess of compassion than a dearth,” he replied earnestly.

“I always admired that about you,” Obi-Wan replied ruefully. “This might be a little odd, but could I have a hug? I hold you in the highest regard and I’ve realized that there are so many Jedi that I never directly expressed my affection for and...”

Plo Koon didn’t wait for Obi-Wan to finish before wrapping his arms around him. “Of course, dear boy. You’ve had such heavy burdens placed on your shoulders during your life, especially in the last few years; it saddens me to see how deeply they’ve weighed you down. If there’s anything I can do to help, in any way, you simply have to ask.”

Obi-Wan sniffled slightly into Plo’s Shoulder while Plo rubbed soothing circles over his back.

A few passing Jedi gave the embracing Masters uncomfortable looks before hurrying on their way. Anakin stood slack-jawed.

When they finally pulled back, Plo Koon hesitated before finally asking, “I don’t mean to pry, but what brought all this on? I can sense much grief from you, even through your impressive shields.”

“It’s a long story,” Obi-Wan replied, wiping at the corner of his eyes. “I’d rather not get into it.”

“He’s high,” Anakin offered bluntly. “He took something last night and won’t go to medical wing.”

“Ah,” Plo said. “Is that true?”

Obi-Wan looked a little embarrassed. “I have the situation under control. My connection with reality might be...slightly altered right now, but my emotions, and what I chose to do with them are my own. I’m just, taking advantage of a unique opportunity to express myself.”

Plo Koon seemed to scrutinize him intensely, “If you’re sure this is what you need, than I support you. Just don’t do anything too foolish.” he finally offered.

Obi-Wan beamed. “I appreciate you saying so, I thought you would be supportive. Farewell, Master Koon”

Obi-Wan offered a respectful bow and then turned to walk away briskly. Before Anakin could follow, Plo rested a claw on his arm. 

“Feel free to comm me if his behavior reaches a point where you think he truly needs a healer. I’m happy to help you drag him there if need be. A little cathartic release isn’t in of itself such a bad thing, but if he starts acting too out of control...”

Anakin nodded in acknowledgment, then ran off to see who else Obi-Wan had chosen to throw himself at.

Part Four

[hadtochangemyurlquick]

here’s 7.1k of Toni pining and Shelby and Toni being childhood friends and also far more character analysis of Rachel than I was expecting? also Marcus is real and I made him a gorgeous himbo. it’s based off that poem by @theycallmedizzy and you can find it here. lmk if you want a second chapter from shelby’s perspective, tho i literally just finished this one. like literally ten minute ago.

Mr. Williams finishes reading the poem and looks over his spectacles at the class. Yes, they’re spectacles, those kind of tiny thick ones that make his eyes too big because he’s much too old to be teaching.

It’s eight am on a Tuesday, Toni walked the three miles to school because she missed the bus only to walk into her shitty honors English class and hear the teacher reading a poem aloud to the class. Her poem. She’d sat down after a momentary pause and listened to him read the final damning stanza.

And then he looks at Toni.

He reads her essays right? What if he recognizes her writing voice? Is that a thing? Or maybe her handwriting or—

“Toni, I was just explaining to the class that whoever wrote this should submit it to the state literature festival,” Mr. Williams says, Toni almost sags against her chair. “I was hoping someone would come forward,” He turns back to the class, eyes hovering over Quinn and Monty, two of the more sensitive guys who sit in the back and ruin the curve for everyone. “But I’ll leave it on the board here,” he clacks it on with a magnet and Toni flinches, “and hopefully someone will come forward. Now onto today’s lesson.”

After class Martha goes up to the board and takes a picture of it, her eyes a little starry at the words and Toni grits her teeth.

“You have to admit it’s pretty,” Martha says. “Even you can’t deny that.”

“It’s dumb,” Toni says flatly, crossing her arms.

“Well I’m keeping it anyway, maybe someday someone will write a poem about me,” Martha says.

“How do you know it’s not about you?” Shelby asks coming out of nowhere and uninvited too. Toni glares at her, letting her open disdain shine through like sunshine through clouds after a gully washer.

“No guys notice me,” Martha informs Shelby sadly. “I bet Andrew wrote it for you.”

Shelby purses her lips and looks over the poem, “I doubt it. He’s more of a doer, I think. Besides, I’m sure that guys notice you, you went on a date with that boy Sam last month.”

Martha sighs and before she can launch into what a disaster that date was, Toni tightens her hands around her backpack.

“I’ll see you in science,” She tells Martha and manages to escape Shelby’s eyes burning at the back of her neck.

———

reasons not to kiss her

1.) this sort of love is not allowed. you are both too soft, and the world around you is all knives and chipped teeth

Toni had played about every sport she was allowed to growing up. Basketball was her favorite, but she loved beat it ball, the game she made up with the other kids in the neighborhood. It was basketball but without rules, devolving into fist fights within the first half. Nothing tasted better than her own bloody lip on a hot summer day. Not even the cool glass of lemonade Mrs. Blackburn always had ready when she ran all skinned knees to Martha’s telling her about how she beat guys two years older than her.

She got angry when she had to stop playing, moving to a different neighborhood. Apparently, Mrs. Blackburn had figured out that she wasn’t only getting her split lip from the older kids in the neighborhood.

The new foster parents were a little stricter, a little richer, and signed her up for youth soccer when she complained about how there was nothing to do without beat it ball.

Martha Blackburn would always be her person, but Toni didn’t expect to find her people so young. Dottie killed as goalie, and Becca’s sweetness made her defense all the better. But it was Shelby and Toni who were the dynamic duo. Toni had a never ending amount of energy as a midfielder and Shelby’s precision made her the perfect striker. It worked the same way every game, Becca would kick it to Toni, who got it to Shelby, who scored a goal. It got to the point that Becca didn’t even need to do much and the coach had to pull Toni aside to tell her to pass to the other girls too.

At the end of the season they sat together at the team party, wearing orange slice smiles. With sticky fingers they held hands and Toni kinda wondered how someone’s eyes could be so green.

Toni doesn’t remember why Shelby’s parents were so angry about them holding hands, but she knows Mr. Goodkind talked to her foster parents and Toni was off to a different home, in a different district, and she lost even Martha for a few months.

———

At lunch everyone’s talking about that fucking poem. Martha sent it around to the whole school and Leah is discussing its merits with Rachel and Nora. Even they don’t seem bored with the topic, though Nora is sure Quinn didn’t write it.

“It could be Monty,” Leah says. “I wouldn’t have thought he had an eye for this stuff.”

“I don’t think it’s Monty,” Rachel says. She looks at Nora, “C’mon, you know what I’m talking about, right?”

“What?” Nora asks.

“I mean it smells like Anna Akhmatova had a baby with Adrienne Rich,” Rachel says.

“Who had a baby with who?” Martha asks.

“Please,” Fatin says. “You’re not exactly the world’s leading expert on free form poetry.”

“Uh, I know when something’s written by a girl,” Rachel says. “I bet you fifty bucks some closet case wrote this.”

Everyone looks at Toni. “You caught me,” Toni deadpans.

“Rachel’s right,” Nora says. “A girl definitely wrote this. Toni, do you know anyone?”

Toni glares at her. “I’ll shake the lesbian phone tree and see what comes out.”

“Well, could it be Regan?” Martha asks. “Maybe she wants to—”

“It’s not fucking Regan,” Toni grabs her books and stalks out, kicking a chair randomly strewn around away as she did.

She hears Shelby sit down just as she leaves, “What’s got her madder than a baptized cat?” Shelby asks and Toni rolls her eyes.

———

2.) no one ever taught you how to love. your war paint and scarred hands could never hold her like she deserves

The worst of it was that Shelby was gentle. Her hands were warm and soft around Toni’s callouses, and there was a crinkle between her eyebrows as she focused on Toni’s hands. No, the worst of it was that Shelby didn’t let go of Toni’s hands when she finished, kept holding onto them as she met Toni’s eyes.

“Well?”

Toni swallowed hard, “I’m not gonna apologize.”

Shelby sighed, her thumb traced little circles around Toni’s hands. “I know today ain’t easy for you.” Toni scoffed and looked away. “But you know you were pickin' a fight. Andrew promised to leave you alone.”

Toni ripped her hands away and jumped from the bench of the locker room. “What the fuck do you know? You weren’t fucking there.”

Shelby’s calm only made Toni’s anger redder, “You ain’t denying it.”

“Why the fuck are you dating him? He’s a self-satisfied little asshole who just wants a little trophy girlfriend to—”

“Toni,” Shelby cut her off sharply and got to her feet, meeting Toni’s eyes.

“You’re not denying that either,” Toni spat.

She could’ve screamed at the hypocrisy. She wanted to scream. She wanted to pound her fists against the walls and bleed all over the bandages Shelby wrapped around her knuckles. She wanted to hurt, to make Shelby hurt. She wanted everyone to see and feel how hurt she was, and hurt them with that hurt. Finally level the playing field.

“Andrew is my business,” Shelby said. “Not yours.”

“He becomes my business when you—”

“When I what?” Shelby asked.

Toni looked at her hands, “Never mind.”

Shelby sighed, “Martha’s helping you move in today, right? Shel’ll be there the whole time?”

“Don’t pretend you give a shit.”

“Of course I care. The last time you lived with your mom you didn’t eat for a week.”

“I was five, not fifteen,” Toni said. “And seriously, stop pretending you give a shit.”

She shoulder checked Shelby as she walked out and winced at the sound of Shelby hitting the gym lockers. Her hands still sting where Andrew’s teeth had scrapped them.

———

Regan approaches Toni during science, her eyes serious. Martha straightens, and Toni does her best not to make eye contact.

“It’s not mine,” Regan says.

“Yeah duh,” Toni mutters.

Regan frowns, “I just—I didn’t want you to—”

“You made it perfectly clear what you want,” Toni says.

Regan sighs and leaves and Toni regrets it.

“Shelby thinks it’s Marcus,” Martha tells her. Toni blinks up at her and Martha nods. “She thinks he wrote it for me.”

“Martha, that kid is dumber than a box of rocks,” Toni says.

Martha furrows her brow, “Maybe he has hidden depths.”

“If you think it’s him ask him out,” Toni says.

“Shelby thinks it’s him,” Martha is quick to correct. “But he doesn’t even know who I am.”

Toni rolls her eyes. Marcus had been in love with Martha since the ninth grade. They had gotten placed as lab partners and he literally didn’t take his eyes off her the entire time. Every time there was a dance he would always look like he was about to say something, shoot his shot, when Martha would loudly proclaim she couldn’t wait to go with her friends.

Toni would’ve pulled the guy aside and told him to grow a pair, but a guy who’s not brave enough to go after what he wants wasn’t good enough for her Marty, not by a long shot.

“Rachel still thinks a girl wrote it,” Martha says.

“Maybe Rachel wrote it,” Toni mutters.

Martha’s eyes light up.

———

3.) no one has ever loved you this full surely you would drown in it all

Being a lifeguard was the worst. It was super boring, the pay was shit, and also Toni would probably get someone killed. Like, they pretended she was CPR certified but she absolutely had no idea how to do it. She went to some hour long course, slept through it, took a test that was just: should you kill people? And then they wrote some bullshit on some papers about a three week long set of classes.

But Shelby was tanned and golden looking and on their shifts they’d text back and forth about which kids they were betting on to win sharks and minnows. Tweenage boys in all their adolescent infancy would gaze open mouthed at Shelby and Toni alike but Shelby was the only one who let them down gently. Toni would ruin them for girls forever with something enough to cut through even the thickest skin.

On the fourth of July the pool paid for fireworks and Toni found a blanket and Shelby found her and they sat watching the reflections of the lights together. Shelby rested her head on Toni’s shoulder, all gentle, like she was afraid Toni would spook.

“I know this ain’t much of a holiday for you,” Shelby said. “But thank you for spending it with me.”

She had her hand on the blanket, splayed out like she was waiting for Toni to take it, there in front of everyone. Toni imagined a world in which she did.

———

“Yeah it’s not me,” Rachel says. “I wish I could write that good.”

Which is such bullshit because Toni knows Rachel could say well if she wanted to. Rachel’s weird inferiority complex about Nora pisses off Toni to no end. Nora’s the smart one, Rachel will be the first to say, and Rachel’s the athletic one. But Nora has a six minute mile and Rachel has perfect pitch so Toni hates them both.

“Maybe it’s Dot,” Toni suggests and Rachel, Nora, and Martha snicker.

Out of all of them, Martha’s the best driver, but they always end up in Rachel’s car after school anyway.

“Most of the school seems to think it’s by Andrew,” Nora says. Toni’s fists clench.

“Yeah,” Rachel rolls her eyes, “I’m sure he would love to take the credit. C’mon Toni, you don’t know any lesbians who could’ve written this?”

“You’re a lesbian too,” Toni says. “You don’t know any?”

“I don’t have a life outside of the pool,” Rachel says, “and none of them have picked up a book since Hop on Pop.”

“Regan says it wasn’t her,” Martha cuts in helpfully. “But maybe it’s another kid in theatre. Shelby says—”

“Oh my god,” Toni grits out. “What is everyone’s deal with her anyway? Why is everyone still obsessed with her? She’s just another basic Jesus bitch.”

The car goes quiet and Toni wishes she could melt into her seat cushion.

“I didn’t mean that,” Toni says.

“Except you did,” Martha snaps.

Toni winces.

“What’s your deal with her?” Rachel asks. “You guys were fine last year.”

“Quinn says there’s a poetry club,” Nora says. “Maybe it’s someone there?”

No one takes the bait and they don’t talk the rest of the way.

———

4.) she belongs in a museum, and you are merely here to gaze. look around you, all the signs scream ‘do not touch’

“Shelby?”

Toni grabbed the shoulder of the girl and pulled her away from Marcus. Shelby was bruised lips and ruined make up and Toni took her by the hand. Thank god Martha wasn’t here, thank god Andrew wasn’t here, thank god Marcus looked just as trashed.

“Toni?” Shelby sorta stumbled, her ankle twisting painfully on her heel and Toni steadied her.

Shelby could do a cartwheel in six inch heels.

“I’m gonna get you home, okay?” Toni called over the music.

Shelby didn’t really respond, just leant into Toni as she led her away and outside. The party had spilled into the backyard and front yard some, the cops probably already on their way, but everyone was too fucking hammered to notice them making their way out.

Shelby’s house was only about a twenty minute walk but it was cold and Toni was only wearing her basketball shorts and her mom’s jacket that she promptly put over Shelby’s shoulders.

“Are you still—” Shelby swallowed hard, “You’re still living with your mom?”

“Mostly with Martha,” Toni said.

“Martha’s great,” Shelby said. “She’s so pretty it makes my eyes hurt.”

“One of our finest,” Toni grunted as Shelby nearly fell on her heels again.

“She could be a model,” Shelby told her. “We should get waffle house.”

“Shelbs, we’re nowhere near a waffle house.”

“What was Becca’s order? At waffle house?”

Toni sighed, looping an arm around her. “I dunno.”

“Neither do I,” Shelby said.

“I’m sorry, Shelby,” Toni said.

Shelby shook her head and stopped right there, circling her arms around Toni and pressing her into a hug. Toni closed her eyes, holding her back as tightly as she dared.

“Oh, Shelby, I’m so fucking sorry.”

———

“Day two!” Mr. Williams calls. He taps the poem again, “I will investigate the handwriting if the poet doesn’t come forward by Friday. I know it’s someone in one of my classes.”

His eyes narrow as he takes them all in and his eyes don’t linger on Toni. Not even for a moment.

There’s a part of her that wants to march up to the front of the room and write her name down, make eye contact with everyone who never even considered her before. But no one expects shit from her, and even if he does go over the handwriting he won’t really be able to pin it on her. He might not even bother checking to see if it matches.

Toni tries not to jump when Marcus takes the seat in front of her during quant lit. It’s not like they have assigned seating but everyone sticks to the same seats anyway. Marcus won’t get shit for it though, perks of being the quarterback.

“So, listen,” he scratches the back of his head and Toni rolls her eyes at him. “I know we aren’t really friends but I—um.”

“Marcus,” Toni says.

“I wanna ask Martha out,” Marcus rushes out. “She’s like the nicest, smartest, coolest girl in the school and like her eyes are out of this world radical.” Radical? “And I would take her somewhere nice like Olive Garden. Or Cheesecake Factory? And pay for it, and open all the doors for her, and I’d carry her books to class—”

“On your date? This is happening during school?” Toni asks.

His eyebrows furrow as he tries to connect the dots. Football players.

“Oh no! I meant like, after, if she wants me to,” He says. “Can I?”

“Can you what?”

“Can I ask her out?”

Toni blinks at him. “What?”

“My buddy said if you want to get with a girl you get close to the best friend first, and I figured I’d ask you for your blessing because that’s what they do in old fashioned stuff right?” He bounces up in down in his seat. “Can I? Or like, do you wanna give me your blessing?”

She feels like she’s having an aneurysm.

Listen, Marcus having feelings for Martha is one thing. Everyone on the planet who’s ever met Martha falls a little in love with her. That’s kinda just how she operates. Toni narrowly avoided that pitfall by being lucky enough to know her since she was five, but it was a tough time. But Marcus was never gonna act on it. Marcus can’t—he’s the quarterback.

It’s basic math, Marcus is a six foot five football player with shoulders wide enough to bench press the Subaru Forrester Toni’s legally required to buy when she turns thirty-two. He’s got that all American boy smile that shows of perfectly white teeth, and dark hair that sweeps in front of his eyes. His face looks like it was sculpted out of marble, like literally he looks like some sort of roman god, except if that roman god volunteered at the humane society on the weekends and called his mom Mami.

Martha is a res girl who’s best friend is the dyke with anger issues. And like yeah, she’s stupid pretty, but Marcus has exclusively dated varsity cheerleaders since the seventh grade.

So yeah, even if Marcus may have feelings for Marty, everyone fucking does, and there’s a host of reasons why she doesn’t have a date to every dance and a new guy every week. And most of them are the cliche high school movie hierarchy sort.

“It’s really none of my business, man,” she says.

“Dude, it’s totally your business,” Marcus says. He leans closer, “you two are like sisters right? What do I gotta do to prove I’m not gonna hurt her? I’ll do your math homework for a month, no two months.”

A thought occurs to Toni and it’s a terrible one. But when has that ever stopped her?

“You’re in my honors English class right?”

Marcus’s face screws in, “Uh, yeah. But I don’t think you want me doing your homework in there, I’m like totally failing.”

“I have a better idea.”

———

5.) she touches you like youre fragile, and if you break you wont be able put yourself together again

Dot was asleep which was Toni’s first indication that something was deeply wrong. The second was that Shelby wasn’t. She was definitely trying her darnedest, but Toni could tell she was awake. Awake in her arms.

Toni shifted, just enough to let Shelby know she was awake too. The movie was some horror flick, something dumb and flashy and almost muted it was so quiet. It was the only thing rated R that they could all agree on. Dot’s house was the only place they were allowed to watch anything rated R when they were still thirteen, so it was all they watched there.

She felt Shelby shift up, so her head rested on Toni’s chest, shifted until her lips met Toni’s clavicle.

Toni wondered if she’d die.

Shelby went up instead of down, pressing kisses up the length of Toni’s neck, soft barely there things that made Toni’s breath catch as she watched Dot snore on the couch next to them.

Toni’s hands moved to the inside of Shelby’s thighs and they stared there, tracing delicate patterns that only made Shelby curl closer.

“I think you’re probably the most beautiful girl I ever saw,” Shelby whispered.

“I—”

“I’m not done.”

Toni’s mouth clamped shut.

“I think about you all the time,” Shelby whispered. “Even when I—”

“Shelby,” Toni warned. Shelby pressed a kiss to the corner of her mouth.

“You’re right,” Shelby said.

Neither of them slept that night.

———

Toni walks into class three minutes late with Mr. Williams, and takes her seat with a sulk.

“He still won’t let me redo that paper,” Toni mutters to Martha who’s eyes are wide.

“Toni, Marcus just—” She nods her head at the poem where Mr. Williams is studying it too.

“Marcus Gonzales?” Mr. Williams asks.

Marcus gets to his feet.

“You wrote this?”

“Yessir.”

“This poem right here?”

“Yessir.”

Mr. Williams blinks and takes off his spectacles, setting them down on the desk. “We’ll talk after class. I should hope everyone has a copy of—”

“I wrote it for Martha,” Marcus doesn’t sit down and the entire class stares at him.

“—Franny and Zooey and I would like you all to turn to page 52. Begin by annotating—”

“Martha, can I take you out on a date?” Marcus asks.

“—this first section, and on to page 64. Remember what Seymour serves as in—”

Martha blushes hard and glances at Toni who smiles before she looks back at Marcus in all his golden boy 6’5” glory.

“Um, okay,” she mutters out and he grins.

“Cool.” Marcus finally sits and gives Toni a thumbs up. She rolls her eyes.

“—this story and compare that to his roles in the other parts of the work we’ve read.”

“I told you it was for you, girl,” Shelby says on Martha’s other side. “People always have a way of surprising you.”

———

6.) she is all bubblegum skies and chapped stick kisses, and you cannot watch the love run out of another persons eyes

They were all a little bit slap happy by the end of the night. A little bit drunk, a little bit high, and laughing far too hard at one another.

“I’m scared,” Shelby told them, still grinning wider than any pageant smile.

“Girl, you picked dare,” Fatin said.

“I did,” Shelby bit her lip. “But all y’all dared Leah to do was finish the vodka.”

“That was—that was bad vodka,” Leah slurred from her position on Dot’s lap.

“But now we’re out of vodka,” Martha sang. “You picked dare.”

“I’ll go with you,” Toni got to her feet, surprised when they were more steady than she assumed they’d be. “Two chairs right?”

“Alright,” Shelby said. “And you’ll hold my hand?”

“Sure princess,” Toni rolled her eyes.

It was an office supply place, probably. The parking lot had this killer decline, and it was one of those spring nights where nothing could really ruin anything. Not forever.

The rolling chairs were kinda gross, left there but not yet picked up by the garbage men. They had to do a special pickup for that, which costed extra. No one in the office had done it for the weeks the girls had been going there after parties.

“Be careful,” Nora urged.

“Don’t fall,” Rachel suggested.

“Hold on, I’m not recording yet,” Fatin said. “Okay now go.”

They pushed off in their rolling chairs, holding hands, and sped down the decline laughing as they barely managed to hold on and steer at the same time.

Toni went flying as she bumped into a patch of grass and for some reason, Shelby went flying with her, landing on top. Toni grunted, but she wasn’t in pain, not really.

They met eyes.

“Sorry,” Shelby said. She didn’t sound sorry.

“You okay?” Toni asked.

Shelby smiled, this real soft thing, Toni wondered what it’d taste like.

“Fuck yeah bitches! I’m so putting that on snapchat!” Fatin screamed and Shelby pulled away, turning white.

“God if this is you in in freshman year, I’m terrified of you as a senior,” Toni called back.

Shelby’s hand slipped out of her’s and Toni tried very very hard not to overthink it.

———

“So I’ve been thinking,” Leah said. Toni took her gym bag out of her locker, pretty much the only thing she kept in there.

“Oh no.”

“Rachel was right about that poem being written by a girl,” Leah continued. “Which meant Marcus lied. And Marcus would never do that unless someone gave him permission to take credit. And since Marcus lied so he could ask Martha out that means the person who wrote the poem wanted Martha to be happy.”

Toni swallowed hard and tried not to fumble with the lock, stumbling with it.

“Toni,” Leah walked over to her. “You need to face the facts: Shelby’s into you.”

Toni blinked, “What?”

“She wrote that whole poem for you, don’t tell me you don’t see it. It’s about you!”

“She—” Toni stopped and furrowed her brow, finally making eye contact with Leah, “You think she wrote that poem for me?”

Leah nodded, “And she let Marcus take the credit. Listen, I know I’m right. I’ve been thinking about it for ages. Whatever fight the two of you had—you need to get over it. She’s into you, Toni. She’s been into you.”

“You have no fucking idea what you’re talking about,” Toni told her. “Seriously, fuck you Leah and fuck off. This is none of your fucking business.”

“You aren’t denying it,” Leah crowed. “Shelby likes you.”

“No she fucking doesn’t!” Toni spat at her. “She fucking hates me! She didn’t write that poem Marcus did! For Martha!”

Leah’s brow furrowed, “But… but you wanted her to. Didn’t you?”

Toni looked away.

“Shelby’s actually straight, isn’t she?” Leah asked. “Fuck Toni.”

“I’m happy for Martha,” Toni said, and marched away.

———

7.) if you jump, she might catch you, and then youd have to watch as she tumbled through the dark

“What if we ran away?” Shelby asked, which was Toni’s third indication that the punch was spiked.

The first two were her arms wrapped around Toni’s waist, swaying in the soft breeze to the distant music of Junior prom.

“Oh yeah?” Toni asked. “Where’d we go?”

“Peru,” Shelby said. “Or LA, or New York or—” Shelby sort of trailed off, losing her thought halfway through it.

“Our parents,” Toni pointed out. She’d moved in with Martha a few months ago but her mom had taken it as a wakeup call, promising to get her shit back together as soon as she could. Toni couldn’t help but believe her, even if it put her in stasis.

“Right,” Shelby sounded cold, “Our parents.”

“Are things worse with them?” Toni asked.

“No,” Shelby said. “The same, really. They’ve lightened up since—since Becca. Have you heard from your mom?”

“Every week or so,” Toni said. “And if you ever need a break you know—“

“Martha is happy to have me,” Shelby finished.

Toni smiled and pulled away enough to meet Shelby’s eyes, her hands slid from behind Shelby’s neck to either side.

“Did I tell you you look beautiful tonight?” Toni asked.

“You did,” Shelby said.

“Can I say it again?”

“You can.”

“You look beautiful tonight.” Shelby closed her eyes and Toni tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. “You’re gonna get out, you know that right?”

Shelby nodded, leaning into Toni’s hand.

Later, Toni will learn that was one of two lies Shelby told that night.

———

Martha gets home at 11:30, exactly when Marcus promised, and Toni smiles as her sister collapses backwards into her bed.

“Toni,” she actually giggles, giggles like a little school girl. “It was amazing.”

“Where’d you go?” Toni asks.

“Olive Garden, I think he was trying to win points with you,” Martha says.

“As he should,” Toni nods.

“He was the perfect gentleman,” Martha swoons. She rolls onto her stomach and looks at Toni and oh god, Toni knows that look. “He did tell me something about you, though.”

“Oh yeah? How I’m better in quant lit than him?” Toni asks.

“He told me you wrote the poem,” she says.

Toni looks away, “Okay, and?”

“You told me you were over Regan,” Martha says.

“It’s complicated,” Toni decides. “And whatever. I wrote it awhile ago anyway.”

“Have you thought about submitting it to that contest Mr. Williams was talking about?” Martha asks.

“Can we go back to talking about your date with Prince Charming?” Toni says. Martha acquiesces, she’s too damn giddy to do anything else.

———

8.) her gaze is too gentle. you will not be the one to tell her that not everything can be fixed with a smile

“Toni,” Dot began, and Toni could tell she was looking at her. “Toni, is Shelby—is she gay?”

Toni snickered, “Dot, Shelby is possibly the biggest straight girl in our school. Maybe our state. She’d sooner give herself a buzzcut than she would ever even kiss a girl."

“Andrew said Shelby got a job as a counselor at this church camp—Guiding Light—in Plano,” Dot said. “I wanted to find the address so I could write to her and it’s a conversion camp.”

The breath left Toni’s body.

“What?”

“And I got to thinking,” Dot said. “About what a mess she was after Becca died this year. Ignoring us, going to all those parties, signing up for a crazy number of pageants. Hell, it was only once you two started talking that she talked to us again.”

“Stop it, Dot.”

“Toni is Shelby gay?”

“Dot,” Toni said.

“Because if she’s gay, if she’s not there as a camp counselor—Toni, did you know about this?”

“Of course not! Jesus!” Toni said. She jumped to her feet and started to pace, “Jesus Christ. Oh my god.”

“Toni is Shelby gay?”

Toni looked at Dot and Dot sighed, her entire body sagging.

“What do we do?” Toni asked.

Dot, her solid, steady, friend since fucking youth soccer was silent.

“Dot, what do we do?”

“Dot, what the fuck do we do?”

———

Shelby finds her before school, Toni smoking like she hasn’t since ninth grade when Bernice gave her a stern lecture about lung cancer. It made Toni cry, actually. Not because it was so stern but because Martha and Toni had been separated for three years and Bernice still cared enough to get angry with her. She promised then and there to stop, and each drag she took now makes her feel like she’s committing treason.

“Smokin’ kills,” Shelby tells her, like they didn’t all go to Dot’s dad’s funeral last year.

Toni takes another drag, just to watch Shelby roll her eyes.

“How’d Martha’s date go last night?” Shelby asks.

Toni glares, “Seriously? You avoid me all year and now you’re asking about Martha’s date?” Shelby looks away. “It went fine. Whatever.”

“I just—I was surprised Marcus wrote that poem is all.”

“You literally said multiple times you thought it was him,” Toni says.

“I know, I know but—”

“Still holding out hope for Andrew?” Toni sneers. “Marcus may not be the sharpest tool in the shed but he cares about Martha. Even a fucking idiot could write a half decent poem if they had someone worth writing about.”

Shelby meets her eyes and Toni’s breath catches.

“Know a lot about poetry, Toni?”

Fuck fuck fuck.

Toni flicks the only half used cigarette away. “I have to go to class,” She says, aware it’s just about the worst thing she can do.

Shelby doesn’t even need the last word, she’s aware she’s already won.  

———

9.) she is so good. she is so good, and you cannot ruin one more good thing

It hadn’t been the first time Toni found her mom overdosed on the couch, but it’d been the most terrifying. Toni had waited in the school parking lot for a pick up for twenty minutes before Shelby had offered her a ride.

When they trooped inside, after having to use the key Tamera kept tucked away in a loose brick, her mom had been passed out on the couch. And the stupid thing had been that Toni had known her mom hadn’t been doing great. Like she’d known Tamera had lost her job, and was close to losing the car, that the pain in her back had been getting worse again from stress. Toni had known that.

But for some stupid, naive reason, Toni had never thought she’d pull this, go back to who she was.

Her tolerance was low, the doctors had told her, because she’d been clean for so long. She hadn’t realized it and had taken more than she could handle.

Shelby had taken the three of them to the hospital, helped carry Toni’s drooling mother into the ER, and held Toni’s hand until the other girls showed up, who she texted to come.

Shelby had been there when the police and social services came to talk to her about going back into foster care. Shelby had never left her side.

Toni couldn’t help but contrast that to the Shelby she saw now. The Shelby who showed up for senior year was barely christian, barely anything, just sort of blank and empty and waiting to grow up so she could have daughters that'd also wait to grow up so that they could have daughters that’d also wait to grow up so that they could have daughters that’d also

Shelby didn’t even look at her, for the first week of senior year she didn’t even look at Toni. She talked with Martha in that faux friendly way, she passed off on lunch invitations to do school work and Toni felt like she was going insane.

Sometimes she would just stare at the back of Shelby’s head in English class, writing whatever gibberish came to mind, and not listening to Mr. Williams at all. Just stare, for forty-five minutes, at a girl who wouldn’t even make eye contact, Toni’s pencil moving rapidly as she barely even glanced at the words her hands produced.

On the last day of the semester Toni finally looked away and came to two realizations:

a. Her mother was never getting better. Not really. b. Toni had written P E R U over forty times in her notebook.

As quietly as she could she tore the page out, and maybe about fifteen pages behind it, filled with similar drivel and recycled them at the end of class.

When the next semester started the seats were changed and something she’d written that she barely remembered was on the board.

Her mother was still in rehab.

———

Toni watches Marcus carry Martha’s backpack to class and watches as Martha giggles at him, argues with him. She is literally so happy it makes Toni’s heart burst.

“Shelby’s quite the matchmaker, huh?” Fatin asks.

Toni looks at her.

“Leah told me,” Fatin explains.

Toni rolls her eyes.

“Yeah, that’s what I said too,” Fatin says. “Leah’s good at noticing things but putting the pieces together is not her strong suit. So I called Dorothy.”

This makes Toni’s shoulders tense and Fatin wraps an arm around them.

“Dorothy didn’t want to talk but what she didn’t say was enough.” Fatin sighs, “I’m all for a little drama but this is cutting into my me time.”

“What going from twenty-four hours a day to twenty-three and a half?” Toni asks.

“God forbid,” Fatin nods sagely. “I didn’t know you could write.”

“I can’t.”

“Clearly not.”

Toni slips out from under her arm, and follows Martha into class. Mr. Williams glares as she comes in and Toni realizes if Marcus came clean to Martha he definitely came clean to Mr. Williams. At least the poem is off the board.

When he passes out papers from a recent essay her’s has a “see me after class” sticker that makes Toni slide down in her seat. Martha doesn’t even notice enough to give her an odd look because she and Shelby are yukking it up about the quarterback.

When everyone files out she hangs back and he looks at her, over his spectacles.

“I’m disappointed,” he says at last.

Toni scoffs.

“You write essays based off spark notes, you never participate, and half the time you don’t even do the homework. But you write this.” He slides the crumpled paper over his desk, her poem shining back at her. “So all I can conclude is that you’re lazy.”

Yeah, obviously.

“Why did you have Marcus tell everyone he wrote it?” Mr. Williams asks.

“So he could ask out Martha.”

“He didn’t need to have written the poem to do that,” Mr. Williams says.

“Can I go?” Toni asks.

“I want to submit this poem to a contest, I want you to start trying in this class, and this,” he hands her a slip of paper with about twenty sets of numbers on it, “is a list of Dickinson poems I want you to read by next week. Pick at least three to write me at least a page about. Single spaced.”

“What?” Toni asks, “You can’t make me do that.”

“I know half the kids in this class write off spark notes, I can easily have them all—including you—fail. So yes, yes I can actually.” He takes off his spectacles and Toni glares at him. “You’re a smart kid, Toni. You’ve got a talent for this.”

Toni shakes her head, “I’m a one hit wonder.”

“You know Britney Spears said the same thing after Baby One More Time.”

“That’s not true,” Toni says.

“Yeah,” Mr. Williams says. “Because she kept working at it.”

And Toni takes the slip of paper with the numbers on it, and marches to her next class and he watches her the whole way, not bothering to put on his stupid spectacles.

———

10.) you will not watch her crumble under the weight of your sins. she is too light, too breathless to be caught up in the dizziness of your heart

Dot didn’t invite them all to the funeral but they came anyway, even Shelby who Toni knew had been waffling back and forth.

Some of his army friends showed up, a doctor or two, and Mateo—the hot nurse Dot steadily ignored. It was a small and quiet service, and the seven of them sat towards the back, holding steady for her.

There was too much on Dot’s shoulders, there always had been, but she didn’t look any freer now that the burden was lifted. She just looked scared, small, and sad.

Toni couldn’t help but wonder if that was what she’d look like, if she got the call about her mom. It was a terribly selfish thought but who could blame her?

Shelby’s hands interlocked with hers, in broad daylight, and stayed there for the entire day. When Toni met her eyes she saw pure terror reflected back at her.

God, were they really only seventeen?

———

Rachel is complaining at lunch about owing Nora five bucks, how she was so sure some closet case wrote the poem but it’s no surprise Nora got it right.

Fatin and Leah don’t contribute and Martha probably wouldn’t have either except she was eating lunch with Marcus, they had found their own little table and were smiling at one another.

“They’re certainly cute together,” Shelby says, glancing back at Martha and Marcus.

“I say it’s weird they have the same name,” Rachel says.

“Says the girl who dated a guy named Raymond,” Nora says.

Rachel throws a straw wrapper at him, “That was a phase and you know it.”

“Marcus is sweet,” Shelby says. “If anyone deserves someone sweet it’s Martha.”

“Don’t you think he’s a little,” Leah trailed off and they all looked at her. “You know a little…”

“Spit it out, Leah,” Rachel says.

“Like the porch lights on but no one’s home?” Leah says.

“Martha is smart enough for the both of them,” Toni says. “And thank god because I was sick of doing his homework in quant lit.”

“That’s literally the easiest math class there is,” Fatin says and Toni shrugs.

“What’s that?” Shelby asks, pointing at the yellow slip sticking out of Toni’s binder.

“Some extra credit stuff, from Williams. Apparently I’m not doing so hot in that class,” Toni says.

Rachel leans way over from the other end of the table. “What is that, Dickinson?”

“It’s a list of numbers,” Shelby says. “Why would it be Dickinson?”

“All of Dickinson’s poems were numbered. It was only after she died that other people named them,” Nora says.

“And Nora said it so you know it’s true,” Rachel smirks.

“Join the fucking club,” Dot says to Toni. “I don’t know why y’all didn’t take non-honors English twelve with me. We just sit around and talk about whatever football game was on the most recently.”

“Well I’ve never liked football so.” Toni gets up, “I’ve gotta talk to my science teacher. I’ll see you guys after school.”

“I’ll go with you,” Shelby smiles and Toni clenches her jaw. “Ms. Roberts said I needed to rework my psych paper.”

“See you guys,” Rachel says and as they leave she’s arguing with Dot about why football is stupid and Toni can feel Fatin’s eyes on her all the way out.

———

reasons to kiss her

1.) she loves you, and her eyes are closed, and didnt your mother ever tell you not to leave a good thing waiting

Toni hated the magnet program kids at her middle school. Like everyone not in their cluster she found them annoying, rich, and privileged as fuck. They only hung out with each other and it was clear they’d never give—

———

“Toni?”

The stair well is empty, it’s the short cut through the language hallway and no one goes there during lunch.

Toni is working hard on ignoring Shelby but is forced to turn around when Shelby stops halfway up.

“Ms. Roberts doesn’t need me to rework my psych paper.”

Toni stares at her.

Shelby takes a step up, one step closer to Toni.

“I had hoped maybe you wrote it for Regan,” Shelby says.

“No such luck,” Toni croaks out.

“That’s a lot of reasons not to kiss someone,” Shelby says. “You’d think if you really shouldn’t kiss someone you’d only need the one.” She takes another step up, until they’re only separated by a few inches.

“I guess,” Toni says.

“Are you really gonna keep me waiting?” Shelby says.

Toni blinks, “You mean you still—”

“I have to do everything myself,” Shelby says.

She kisses her.

[fallen029]

Nervous

"Are you nervous?"

"No."

"You sure?"

Mira tilted her head to the side though her eyes betrayed the cute, quirky questioning vibe she was going for as they, instead, seemed rather disbelieving. It was easy for Laxus to note it these days, having fallen like most other in the hall for her typical chaste trickiness and innocuous pretenses over the years, but after being far more than just a guild member to her now for a good number of them as well, he'd begun to pick up on the little things.

Like how she seemed forever trapped in a guilelessness that didn't quite entrap her as well as she thought it did.

But this was fine, the ease at which he disarmed her now, as Mira was able to pick apart the man's own fallacies and walls.

"Yeah," he grumbled to the woman's question, but she only grinned at him, as if victorious, as she picked apart his lies with ease.

"Then why are you biting at your nails?" she asked with round eyes. "You only do that when you're nervous."

And now she'd managed to annoy him.

"Mira-"

"I'm only curious," she insisted with a little shake of her head. "Dragon."

He huffed some, his chest deflating as he finally gave her his full attention. They were in the bar, as they typically were, but Mirajane had actually found a moment to take a break. Rest. S-Class trials were, at that very moment, going on and those who hadn't been chosen were sulking away from the guild for the time being while a decent sized group was off being put through the rigorous trials and tribulations that were associated with being designated part of the elite group of mages that were Fairy Tail S-Class wizards.

Laxus had no reason to be nervous.

He'd claimed his spot many years before and, at times, wondered if he even had eventually surpassed the old geezer all together. He'd be a wizard saint, someday, he knew, or at least told himself so, and that meant that he had far more concerns than something as silly as a guild distinction.

Not when may one day have the distinction among the entire continent.

S-Class trials had nothing to do with him and, if anything, he was mostly just glad to find that bar emptied out some that day.

"It's okay," Mira assured him then though and when she reached across the table, it was to grab his hand, pulling it down so that she could caress it as she looked deeply into the slayer's eyes. "I am too."

"You are what too?" he asked dumbly, confused equally by her words as he was calmed by her gesture.

"Nervous," she insisted.

"About what?"

"The same thing as you."

"I'm not," he told her, "nervous."

"Laxus-"

"What do I have to be nervous about, huh?" Then, frowning, he questioned, "What do you?"

"Well, actually, I'm nervous about a lot of things," she said, releasing his hand, but only so she could bring her own up to her cheek and rest her head there then, as she thought. "I have a shipment of meat that hasn't come in yet and I know, this weekend, if I don't get it, that I'll have to serve meals without any meat portion and the guys will be pretty upset about that, which will affect my tips, and I've been trying to save up money for my wedding. Which brings me to my next point, I've been saving for a wedding that can't yet happen because my boyfriend is dragging his feet with proposing to me even though we've talked about it a thousand times-"

"Mira," he warned, but she only shrugged.

"The dog I look after was sick last night, too," she finished. "I'm nervous about that."

Laxus, with a slight breath, questioned, "What's wrong with him?"

"He has the shits."

And he blinked. Then narrowed his eyes while the woman only gazed right back with hers earnest and honest.

Shrugging some then, Laxus said, "If you need help wrangling him down to a vet, I could-"

"Oh!" Mira sat up then. "And I'm super nervous because my baby brother is off on the S-Class trials and I want him to preform well." Shrugging, she added, "But I'm torn, because I also want all of my friends to do well. Including your best friend. Freed."

Laxus' face fell then as he realized he'd been duped (possibly; her street dog did have a hefty amount of ailments from time to time) and only looked off once more as he remarked, "Sounds like your problem. Not mine."

"Oh, it's not a problem. Laxus. To be nervous about such things." Sighing, she said, "It means that you care. About them. To be nervous for someone else. I want them all to come back, knowing that even though they can't all be the winner, at least invigorated and ready to start right back at training and trying their hardest to, eventually, be that winner. It's an honor to be nervous on someone's behalf. I'd gladly take all of Elf's nerves if it meant he could put all his focus into the trials right now."

Laxus snorted. "Yeah, well, bully for you. Freed can take care of his damn self. I don't need to worry about him, like you and your loser brother."

"Behave."

Snorting, the man looked off before saying, "I'm not worried. Over Freed. Or anything."

"Fine. Not worried then." Mira had lost some of her jolliness at the slight her boyfriend had sent towards her absent brother. "But you are thinking about it. Aren't you? Even just a little? He's your best friend. I would at least think-"

"I'm," he insisted to her with a finality in his tone he usually reserved for literally anyone who wasn't his demon, "not nervous about the S-Class trials. Or worried. Or concerned. Alright?"

Sighing, she looked off for a moment, considering the slight surge of people that had come in in the last ten minutes or so and weighing in her mind whether or not her break was officially over. Not quite ready to let it go though, when her eyes drifted back to her boyfriend, it was with another set of words on her tongue.

"If you're not nervous about the trials," she began in that tone and it was enough, just on its own, to make him regret coming into the hall that day, "then that must mean that you're nervous about something else, so what is it? Huh? Is it that you've been seeing someone else?"

"Mira, what?"

"Some other woman, is it, then? Who is she, Laxus? Huh? Don't think that I wont' make a scene here, right now, in front of everyone, because-"

"What are you-"

"-if you don't tell me what it is that you're so nervous about, then I have no choice but to assume that you're cheating on-"

"I'm nervous for my friend, alright?" And he usually wouldn't take such a tone with her, but he did then, snapping some, out of aggravation and, maybe it was a trick of the lights, but the woman could have sworn she even saw a flick of his fangs as the vein on the side of his head bulged and his eyes darkened. "I want him to be S-Class with me and I'm worried that your stupid brother or one of those other idiots will get it over him. Or that...that… He'll fuck it up himself. Is that what you want to hear? Huh?"

No.

The other people around the guildhall did not.

But they had, quite clearly, heard nearly every word of his little outburst and, feeling all those eyes on him now only made the man growl louder. He was primed for a retreat, storming off and staying away from the hall for a few days, until he could stomach a return without smashing in the face of the first person who questioned him.

Mirajane, however, wasn't going to let this happen.

Because, yes, she had been very happy with the explosion of information that had just fallen out of the slayer's mouth. She'd only been prodding at him her entire break. For it to result in such a satisfying revelation meant it hadn't all been for not.

"Awe," Mirajane giggled, clapping her hands at the slayer's misery. "You guys are just such good friends, huh, dragon? You feel a lot better, don't you? Getting that off your chest?"

"No," he told her with the same candor that he'd just exposed himself and his nerves to the entire guildhall. "I feel worse."

"Well," Mira hummed as, job complete, she got to her feet once more, she offered, "I feel better. Isn't that all that matters?"

"Demon." The moniker was more of a proclamation than an endearing term. "You're evil."

"I love you," was her purest of explanations and she meant it too, he could tell, as her deep blues flashed a bit of hurt. "Helping you admit your feelings for your friends is how I show that."

"Yeah, well," he muttered under his breath, "then you need to find new ways."

Laxus took off that night, before her shift was finished, but that was fine with the woman as she'd more than begun staying most nights at his apartment.

When she arrived, he was flicking through an old atlas, comparing it to a current map. Something for a job, was all he grumbled to her when she lightly questioned, and Mira let his tone go because, well, she had been rather insistent before, at the bar, and all things considered, he hadn't outright acted a fool.

Just mostly.

"If Elfman doesn't make S-Class," she did whisper, eventually, over dinner that night and she saw the man roll his eyes, thinking she was trying to goad him back into a conversation, "I'll cry."

Grunting, he only continued to stab at the steamed vegetables at his plate, never rightly bringing them up to his mouth, but not quite ready to admit, when he insisted in a huff that he be the one to make them, that this was a bad idea.

"Of course," she hummed again, "if he makes it, I'll probably cry then, too."

"Mira?"

"Yes?"

"I already told you what you wanted to hear," he told her plainly. "What else do you want from me?"

"I'd like you to make a big emotional plea again," she replied back with the same amount of flatness that it almost made the slayer recoil. At the sight of it though, she broke some as, with a giggle, she admitted, "I'm just talking, dragon. About my baby brother. Who wants this so badly-"

"If he wanted it badly, he'll come back S-Class," Laxus told her as, with a shake of his head, he went back to stabbing at his vegetables. "If he doesn't, then that means he didn't want it badly enough."

"Well, I'm not saying that to him, if he comes back not S-Class."

"Yeah, I figured."

"And I'm not saying that to Freed either."

"That's fine," Laxus told her. "I will. He knows where to go to hear the truth."

"A little kindness will get you a lot in life, Lax," she replied, but he only shrugged some.

"Won't get you S-Class," he retorted and, well, the next morning would finally put the entire conversation to rest.

Cana had never looked prouder than herself and, that night, never gotten drunker, than when she was finally, after wanting it for so long, so much, to find herself on the same Fairy Tail tier as her father.

He was there, Gildarts was, having been hanging around for a few days, prepared for this, and she seemed rather annoyed by all of his attention, shoving at the man's face any time he tried to hug her, but betraying her annoyance by the glistening in her eyes, every single time he, also drunkenly, announced to those amassed how proud he was of the guild's newest S-Class member.

His daughter.

Mirajane was caught as she always was, between dismayed at the heartbreak evident on the faces of those who weren't victorious and the one who was. As she comforted both Elfman and Natsu over their losses, she did take note, across the bar, of where Freed was very stoic and graceful in his defeat, but still being comforted in their own ways, by his two friends.

"Who wants to be S-Class anyways?" Bickslow questioned. "When you can be part of the most elite team in all the lands?"

"I would," Ever admitted under her breath though, still, she patted at Freed's shoulders sympathetically.

It was as they stood though that all three felt it. It had been looming, after all, the entire time. The presence of their most highly viewed mentor, Laxus, who came out of hiding, down in the game room. He'd been down there transferring his nerves into some rounds of pool, but Cana and Gildarts very loud commotion had finally caught his attention and he found himself not welcomed to the celebrations of the member he'd most desired.

At his approach, both Bickslow and Ever took a step back. They too had disappointed the man in the past, but never quite in such a grand fashion. Freed was primed to take the gold this time around, only to lose out to the guild drunk and Evergreen couldn't help but to glare over at the other woman, hating her more, even, than Titania, just for that day only.

Laxus came to a stop before the trio, eyes on Freed, and the rune mage forced himself to meet the gaze of the other man. It was just as he was beginning to open his mouth though that he caught sight of Mira, over at the bar, staring very pointedly his way and he took in a breath, instead of speaking, reconsidering his words before he was unable to take the back.

His gaze didn't soften, not exactly, but Freed was almost surprised when, instead of being reprimanded, he was welcomed with a pat at the shoulder from the man, as well as a slight grin.

"You kicked Elfman's ass, at least, right?" the slayer asked to which the other mage bowed his head a bit.

"Well, we did find ourselves across from one another and I found myself moving on while he did not, but-"

"All that matters."

"L-Laxus-"

"You'll want it more, next time," he told the other man simply. "After getting so close."

"Yes." And he balled up his fists then, Freed did, nodding his head at the man as he insisted, "I will!"

It was a celebration that night, not a pity party, as Cana was far from someone that anyone could look down upon (especially not with her father there, intent on making certain this didn't happen) and it was a good night.

For everyone.

The night peaked though, for Laxus, when towards the end of it, as he sat up at the bar drinking with the still far too giddy Gildarts, listening to the man go on about all of where he'd been (with some praise for his little girl sprinkled in there), Mirajane appeared at his side. The slayer originally thought it was to refill his mug, which he held up to help her with this, but instead of leaning down to fulfill this request, the woman instead pressed a kiss to his cheek, lingering long enough for Gildarts to giggle at the man.

"Mira," Laxus questioned with a bit of a rosiness to his cheeks as the woman rightened and did, finally, begin to fill his mug with golden ale once more. Such public displays were hardly their style and the man raised his head then to question, "What was that for?"

"I just like it when you're nice, dragon." She even giggled. "I like it a lot."

But the night was busy and she was being called off again, across the bar, which left the still somewhat blushing Laxus and grinning Gildarts.

"You caught a good one, Laxus. Proud of ya."

"Shuddup."

"No, seriously." And Gildarts glanced over his shoulder then, to the table where his daughter was plying herself with barrel after barrel while her guild members, all so thrilled by her accomplishment, sat nearby, happily congratulating her. "I fucked up. You know. Once. With the only one that mattered. Sometimes you don't get second-chances, man." His serious tone faded though as his face contorted in a smile that didn't seem to stretch right across it as he said, "Unless you're like my Cana! No need for second-chances; she's all S-Class!"

"Yeah," Laxus snorted, "she just needed fourth and fifth and sixth-chances."

"What did you say? Eh? Laxus?"

And when Gildarts turned his head then, his face had contorted into something far darker and Laxus found it best to just sip his beer in silence for awhile.

They left together that night, Laxus and Mira did, the man a bit drunk and the woman, who'd worked the entire night away, stone cold sober, but it was fine, as she seemed high on something else.

"I'm so happy," she insisted to the man. "For Cana. It almost washes away how badly If eel for Elf."

Almost.

She was twirling and skipping that night, slightly before her boyfriend, and he only watched her for a few moments then before speaking.

"Maybe," he offered with a bit of a shrug, "he could come out with me. Elfman could. And we could train some times. To get him ready for next year."

And she stopped dancing then, Mira did, to look over her boyfriend as she instead flel into step with him. Slipping her arm into the crook of his, she snuggled up close to the man who, even drunk, only rolled his eyes.

"You're so sweet, Lax," she assured him as the man only groaned. "When you wanna be."

Even though his reaction seemed the exact opposite, slowly, Laxus was learning that, maybe, he always wanted to be.

[aadmelioraa]

Take Two

A Happiest Season Abby x Riley fic (2.4k, T)

It had been one year since Abby had left. One year since they’d called it quits. One year since their engagement was over.

And now it was Christmas time again, only this time Abby was more alone than ever.

She’d been on a few dates since they’d broken up, but no one had stuck around. Probably more her fault than theirs. It had been good to get back out there, but it still hurt to remember how things with Harper had ended.

It was a pretty big shock at the time, but looking back it had been a long time coming. Abby and Harper were on different paths and it just wouldn't have worked, no matter how much they loved each other.

“It’s not you,” Harper had insisted. “It’s me, and I’m so sorry.”

That was one of the last things Harper said to her.

They’d been talking wedding plans that morning and by evening Abby was packing her bags.

Harper had been so desperate to make her happy since they got engaged, but her constantly bending over backward wasn’t what Abby needed, and it was stressing Harper out. Neither of them was their best self together, not anymore. Rather than bringing them closer, in the end, that Christmas with the Caldwells had exposed too many rifts in the relationship to salvage.

Tagging @mego42 @endlesslychildish @arcane--soul @skittles321

Read the rest below the cut or on ao3

“I want you to be happy without trying so hard to satisfy the idea of me in your head. You’re such an amazing person—“ Abby had started sobbing here, “—but I can't give you what you need either.”

She’d moved out that night. Harper hadn’t accepted the breakup at first despite sort of initiating it. The conversation had lasted for hours, but eventually, she acknowledged the inevitable and left Abby alone for a few hours to pack. John, thankfully just a text away, had helped her drive everything over to his place.

It had been the second-worst night of Abby’s life.

She’d moved to Philadelphia two months later. She’d grown up there, technically, but without her parents, it didn’t really feel like coming home. New neighborhood, new apartment, new job. If that wasn’t proof she could get over it, what was? But when the holiday season came around again a lot of memories, once happy, now painful, resurfaced.

Waking up alone on Christmas Eve that year, in a word, sucked.

Abby was awake at 6:30 am for some reason. She checked her phone. She’d missed two non-emergency texts from John last night after she’d taken melatonin and passed out. He was definitely still sleeping; she’d text him back later.

She made a pot of coffee and stood in the kitchen in her pajamas wondering what she was going to do to keep herself occupied all day. John, who was living with his boyfriend in New York now, had invited her to stay the night and spend Christmas with them, but Abby wasn't sure if she was feeling up to it. She kinda wanted to sit the holiday out completely this year. She opened her phone and jumped aimlessly between the same three apps, then finally forced herself to take a shower.

At noon she decided to get dressed and go for a walk. That ought to keep her distracted enough. She put on jeans, thick socks, and her warmest sweater under her coat and started wandering.

There was nothing quite like Philly at Christmas. Still brash, loud, and occasionally vulgar but now decked to the nines with tinsel. She was glad to have new haunts to discover along with revisiting old haunts.

The snow from the previous day had turned to slush by the time the sun was at its peak, but that didn’t stop the kids in her neighborhood from spilling out into the streets to play football and tag under the grey sky. She waved at her upstairs neighbors and made a mental note to try and get to know them a little better in the new year.

It was a nice enough day. Maybe she’d head to Fairmount Park. Wherever she ended up there were sure to be plenty of frantic people coming to and fro, finishing last-minute Christmas shopping.

A wave of mixed emotions washed over her as she passed by a jeweler. Harper had given back the ring, of course. It was with John for safekeeping. Abby couldn’t return it, but it felt really weird to have it at her new place. Fresh start and all. Maybe someday she’d be ready to sell it. For now, she didn’t want to think about it.

She continued on at a brisk pace, stopping at a street cart for a lunch of falafel which she ate standing over a trash can, then continuing on.

It was after four o’clock by the time she realized how far she’d walked. Her hands had grown pretty chapped, she should probably go inside for a minute. There was a bar up ahead that looked open, and she could definitely use a drink.

It was fairly empty when she entered which made her instantly relax. She sidled up the bar and took a seat, rubbing her hands to warm them.

“Hey.” There was one bartender working, a curly-haired woman wearing a bandana headband, fitted flannel, and impeccable winged eyeliner like some kind of femme Luke Danes. “What can I get for you?”

“Vodka tonic?”

“Not feeling the Christmas spirit today, huh?” the bartender asked, grabbing the well vodka and rimming a glass with a wedge of lemon.

“Not really.”

“Yeah me neither. Anyway, name’s Gem,” the woman said, setting the cocktail down with a gentle tap. “Yell if you need anything.”

She smiled and walked to the far corner of the bar, a towel draped over her shoulder. A tall redhead and a petite girl with shoulder lengths locs raised their glasses at her.

Even if Abby wasn’t feeling it today, she’d picked a good spot.

She’d just started to feel the effects of the booze when she heard a familiar voice.

“Hey, I thought that was you.”

Startled, Abby nearly dropped her drink.

Riley, Harper’s Riley, slid onto the stool next to her.

“Hey!” Abby said, “What are you doing here?”

“Nice to see you too,” Riley laughed.

“Yeah, I mean—great, great to see you.” Abby couldn’t help from grinning. She probably looked like an idiot but she didn’t care.

“You look good,” Riley said, subtly sweeping her eyes up and down in an appreciative manner.

“Thanks, thanks.” Abby was glad she’d foregone the beanie with the hole in it. “You look good too.”

She really did. Her hair was a little shorter now, though it still framed her face perfectly. Otherwise, she looked exactly the same as when they’d met two years ago. She was wearing a black mock neck sweater and a pair of perfectly tailored wool pants. Her boots had a slight heel, not too high to be practical in an East Coast winter. The hem of her sweater pulled up a little as Riley leaned over the bar, exposing just a sliver of skin. Abby tried not to stare too obviously while she ordered a drink.

“I moved to Philly last month, to answer your question,” Riley said. “Got a fellowship at Kensington, I start in a week.”

“Oh, cool. Congrats, that’s awesome.”

“Yeah, thanks,” Riley took a sip, glancing over at Abby in a way that made her face grow slightly warm. “What have you been up to?”

“Finished the doctorate and got a job as a curator at the PMA. It’s going well. I mean, relatively.”

“Well, look at you!” Riley raised her glass. “Doctor.”

“Doctor,” Abby echoed, laughing, as she knocked her glass against Riley’s.

“Glad to hear that.” Riley took another sip of her drink and paused, mouth pulling to one side awkwardly for just a second.

Abby knew the question that was coming.

“So,” Riley was looking straight ahead into the mirror behind the bar, “how’s Harper?”

Abby grimaced.

Riley’s eyes widened. “Oh, shit…”

“It’s ok! It’s ok,” Abby could feel herself overcorrecting. “It’s been about a year. But yeah, we’re not together anymore.”

“I’m really really sorry, Abby.”

“It’s fine, really,” Abby shrugged. “I mean, if anyone knows how I feel, it’s you.”

Riley exhaled and leaned over the bar, her elbow just barely touching Abby’s. “Yeah, that’s definitely true.”

“So what are you doing in a random bar on Christmas Eve anyway?” Abby asked, ready to change the subject.

“I live up the street, actually. I’m heading to Pittsburgh to see family tomorrow, but that’s going to feel like work, so today I just wanted to relax.”

“Totally,” Abby said, watching as a party of college aged kids spilled in from the street and headed to the high top tables towards the back of the bar. “I’m just taking it easy today, too.”

“Big plans tomorrow?”

“Might see John. I think you met him…when we met.”

“Yeah, I remember John. How’s he doing?”

“He’s really good. Thinks I need to get out more, but otherwise he’s very happy.”

Riley laughed. “I’ve been out exactly three times—wait, no, this makes it four—since I moved here in November so clearly I have no idea what that’s about.”

“You liking Philly so far?”

“Yeah, I do. I mean, don’t get me wrong it’s weird as fuck, but it’s got some really great people. The doctors I work with are whatever, but this kind of place has a good vibe.”

She smiled at Gem, who was rolling her eyes as she made Long Island Iced Teas for the group at the high tops.

“You two know each other?” Abby asked, internally cringing at how un-cool about it she sounded.

“I’ve been here three of the four times I’ve been out, so you could say that,” Riley said. “Nice people usually.”

Gem dropped off the tray of Long Islands and brought Abby and Riley another round.

“They tried to order mojitos,” she sighed, rolling her eyes.

“Fucking kids,” Abby said. Riley laughed. That felt good.

Another large group came in, middle-aged couples this time. It had grown dark outside, it must be after five by now.

They sat in silence for a few minutes, listening to the conversations happening around them. Old friends were reuniting to the right and left of them, the chatter that filled the air was starting to make Abby feel a little claustrophobic. She shifted towards the edge of her seat, tapping one foot nervously against the floor.

“Hey, do you want to get out of here?” Riley asked, raising her hand to catch Gem’s attention. “It’s getting a little crowded.”

“Yeah, that sounds nice,” Abby said, relieved. “I’m just gonna run to the restroom.”

She threw a slightly crumpled pile of bills—mostly fives—on the bar and made her way to the back.

By some good luck, the bathroom was free with no line. The space was cramped and not overly clean, and the small black and white tiles that covered the lower half of the walls created a frantic pattern that did nothing to help Abby’s nerves. She exhaled a deep breath, fixed on her own gaze staring back at her from the mirror.

You’re fine. You’re just hanging out with a girl. A friend, even. Stop being so fucking nervous.

She rolled her eyes, annoyed at her own pep talk, then made her way back to the bar.

Riley was waiting with her hat on, hands thrust deep into the pockets of her dark green coat. Her face broke into a smile when she saw Abby returning.

“Anywhere in particular you want to go?” Abby asked.

“Not really,” Riley said casually. “Lead the way.”

“You got it,” Abby said, and Riley followed her outside.

The air was brisk, and snow had just started to fall as they left. There were Christmas lights everywhere, garlands wrapped around lampposts, a tree decked to the nines in nearly every window.

“Philly really gets in the holiday season, huh?” Riley asked dryly, then pointed up at a stuffed orange mascot that hung from a wreath on someone’s porch. “What the hell is that thing?”

“You really are new here,” Abby laughed. “I don’t know if you’re ready for me to explain Gritty tonight but I promise he's worth the wait.”

They continued up Broad Street, gradually making their way away from the noisy crowds. It had started to snow, which helped muffle the sounds of passerby and create a more mellow but still festive atmosphere.

“So, I’m glad I ran into you,” Abby confessed, breaking the silence that was lingering between them.

Riley’s shoulder bumped against hers as she sidestepped a puddle. “I am too. I have to ask though, is it because we’re both members of the Harper broken hearts club, or something else?”

“No, I’ve been trying not to think too much about that,” Abby said.

“Sorry to bring it up again.”

“I mean, it’s kind of unavoidable. That’s not what I meant, sorry. I’m glad because I really liked you when we met, and I kind of regret not realizing that at the time.”

Riley glanced over at her, genuine surprise etched on her face. “I liked you too, Abby. A lot.”

Abby smiled into her scarf and shook her fingers through her hair the way she always did when she was nervous. “Really?”

“Yeah, past tense though,” Riley added.

“Asshole,” Abby laughed, and Riley’s mouth twitched in reply.

They had paused on a street corner. The snow was falling around them in big flakes, Riley’s hair glittering in spots where it had landed and begun to melt.

Riley cocked her head, lips slightly parted, and stepped a little closer. Her brown eyes sparkled in the light of a Christmas tree peeking out of a nearby window.

“You good?” she asked.

Abby hesitated, chewing her lower lip.

“I can head home, if you’re not feel—“

Abby didn’t let Riley finish. Surging forward on her toes, she kissed her.

Rile tasted like the old fashioned she’d been drinking, smoky and slightly sweet. She kissed Abby back, running a hand through the hair behind her ear, and Abby could feel her smiling as their noses bumped together. When she pulled back Abby caught her breath and realized she was grinning too.

“I’ve wanted you to do that for a really long time,” Riley breathed.

Abby laced her fingers through hers and they kept walking. She wasn't feeling alone amidst all the holiday revelry any longer.

“Do you want to grab dinner sometime, maybe?” Abby asked tentatively.

Riley squeezed her hand. “How about now?”

Abby grinned. “Now is great.”

[jisungismymom]

[7:43pm]

pairing: haechan x reader

genre: fluff?, idol x idol au, mentions of smoking, also donghyuck is portrayed as a sketchy idol who gets into a lot of scandals so please keep in mind that this is fiction

words: 2.3k+

// Donghyuck walked through the halls looking for the room his manager had told him about. All he was going by was 'a small square room at the end of the hall on the ground floor near the back exit that had a blue door'. He was on the ground floor, but whether he was in the corridor of the back entrance or the one to the front, that he did not know. To confuse him further, all the doors at the venue had to be blue. He resisted from asking a staff member keeping in mind that he had just barely gotten out of a smoking scandal. Word spread pretty quickly in the industry. "NCT’s Haechan asked a music core staff member where the smoking room is…" something along the lines of that. For now he just had to trust his instinct and continue waking till he reached the end of the line. 

Once there, he looked around himself, making sure no one was watching him or had seen him and in one swift motion he was behind the other side of the door. Donghyuck let out a sigh of relief. It seemed that this was the same room he had been looking for. The room was mostly just a small square space with three walls and a long table, probably an old prop, pushed in the corner. The room was entirely missing one wall, hence three walled. The open section had been covered by thick horizontal white bars which were sparingly placed along its length. That's why whatever light source he had was the little but bright midday sun that had managed to pass through the numerous buildings in the alley adjacent to him. It was certainly no smoke room, but it could pass for the time being.

Donghyuck sat down on the lonely table, propping his leg into the steel bar below him. He fished his cigarette and lighter out from his pocket and brought the death stick to his mouth, naturally placing it between his lips. He flicked the lighter with his thumb a few times, bringing it to the cigarette when the flame stood high. Finally, he took one long drag from in and leant against the wall, letting his eyes close as he played around with the smoke in his mouth before letting it out with a satisfied sigh. That was better. He felt much more relaxed, much more calm then he had been feeling merely moments ago. Something about being in front of the camera for too long, having to look into the lense thinking "whoever's watching this right now is disgusted by me or wants me out of the group". Donghyuck was aware that he didn't exactly have a clean streak. ever since his debut he'd been getting into scandal after scandal and although his company could handle it well enough so that it didn't taint his groups image, it definitely took a toll on him. Donghyuck was always careful with what he did, but once he realised that he was getting away with it, that no one had caught onto his actions, he'd start getting ignorant and soon enough he'd be in the headlines. 

Donghyuck never meant to be so careless. He never meant to get into trouble so frequently. But he did and there was no one else to blame but him. He always felt sorry towards his members, but no matter how many times he'd apologise, he worried that they failed to see his sincerity and that they'd given up on him maybe. It scared Donghyuck. He knew it was harmful to think like that, but he just couldn't help it. Deep in thought, Donghyuck continued smoking his cigarette, eventually finishing it. He dropped the small butt on the ground, crushing it with the sole of his designer shoes to tame the ashes before kicking it under the bars and out of the room. Just as he was about to light another cigarette he heard the door burst open and shut behind him. Startled, Donghyuck looked at the door, only to meet eyes with you. “Donghyuck.”, you breathed out, acknowledging his presence. Donghyuck nodded. “Y/n.” His eyes ran over your body. You were still in your performance clothes, a sheen of sweat covering your forehead while your chest heaved up and down. It seemed you had just finished performing. Donghyuck’s eyes flashed to your hands that were hidden behind your back and he looked at you quizzically. Following his gaze, a small smile broke out onto your face and you brought your hands forward to reveal two cigarettes and a lighter. Donghyuck’s brows furrowed. “You smoke?”

You chuckled lightly and pushed yourself off the door, making your way further into the room to stand against the wall, right in front of him. “Yeah I do. And it seems you do too.” Donghyuck looked down at the cigarette in his hand and back up at you. “Yeah, I do.”, he admitted, scratching the back of his neck and looking to the side. It was quiet after that. Both of you went back to what you had originally intended to do. Smoke in isolation. Donghyuck didn’t know you smoked, but it didn’t surprise him much honestly. From what Donghyuck recalled, you were always full of surprises so it was pretty much useless having expectations from you. But that wasn’t necessarily a bad thing. 

He didn’t mind your presence in this room and although he’d prefer it if he were alone, he knew you weren’t going to snitch on him. Not when you were in so much shit yourself. You had no reason to be judgemental. Considering that you were his ex-girlfriend and all, Donghyuck still felt indifferent to you and he was positive that you reciprocated that. It had been a while since you both had parted ways, two years to be precise. It made Donghyuck snicker. To Donghyuck, it felt like you had broken up ages ago. Two years sounded too short. His amusement caught your attention.

“What are you laughing about.”, you asked casually. Donghyuck shook his head. “Nothing really.” You frowned at his remark. “If you don’t tell me then I’m going to think it's about me and you know very well what happens after that.”, you said knowingly. Donghyuck grinned. Self doubt and closure. That’s what would happen if you thought he was laughing at you. Donghyuck knew you too well. The fact that you hadn’t changed after all those years made Donghyuck feel some type of way. Not about you, but about himself and he couldn’t quite put his finger on the feeling. “Does two years sound like a short or long time?”, he asked, bringing himself back to the conversation. 

Donghyuck noticed how your lips pressed in a thin line, brows furrowing. You were actually thinking about it. “It sounds like a short time but it feels like an eternity. You were thinking about our breakup weren’t you?” Donghyuck wasn’t at all phased by how easily you had caught on. You were bright, you were smart, Donghyuck used to be prideful about that. He nodded, answering your question. You grinned and pushed yourself off the wall, moving to sit next to him. Donghyuck could smell your perfume. That’s how close you were sitting next to him. He didn’t mind though, more he welcomed it. “Reminiscing about the past I see.”, you commented.

Donghyuck shrugged. “It was certainly better than the future.” You turned to him, a worried look in your eyes. “Hyuck, is everything alright?”, you asked in concern, placing your hand on top of his. Donghyuck wasn’t affected by your touch, nor by the name you used to call him. It felt familiar.  Something you always did back when he was stressing out during his trainee days. Donghyuck didn’t like how he remembered so much from your relationship. It made it seem like he still wasn’t over you even though he was. “Do you ever miss it y/n?”, he asked, looking down at your hand on his. “Sometimes. I miss how carefree it was. We didn’t have to think about the consequences for our happiness.”, you answered truthfully. “I wish I had that kind of freedom again even though I abused it. I regret that more than ever. Letting my company clean up the mess I made. I don’t deserve their patience or the member’s. It makes me wonder how I haven’t been kicked out yet.”

“You just need to be more aware Hyuck. I’ve heard about that thing’s you’ve gotten yourself into. You have to be careful otherwise you’ll dig yourself into a bigger hole. Just stay clean for now and it’ll get better.” You squeezed his hand reassuringly. Donghyuck smiled at you gratefully. He knew your advice was the best he could get. You knew what he was going through. You went through it too. The only difference was that you handled it better than he did. Donghyuck was so amazed by you. Back then and now too. He was thankful that he was well acquaintanced with a person like you. 

You warmly returned his smile, eyes studying his face. Donghyuck still looked the same. Plump lips, golden skin and those big brown eyes that anyone could get lost in. The same eyes that you had fallen in love with. That you had been in love with for three years. The same eyes that you had looked into when you reluctantly broke up with him under your company’s constant pressure. You remembered clearly how hurt Donghyuck had been that day. You were too, but he seemed broken. You both had known that your cliche high school romance was destined to end someday and when you both became trainees, it became all the more evident. Both of you did your best to make the most of each and every day you had left together before you had to part ways. You even mentally prepared yourself for it but it really hurt when it actually happened. You thought getting over Donghyuck would be the most difficult thing in the world but as your career took off, your longing for him wore off. 

Now, two years later, here you were sitting next to each other talking about your hardships and struggles and comforting each other. And everything about it felt so natural. It felt so normal you were scared that you had never actually forgotten about Donghyuck even though you told yourself you had. Neither of you felt butterflies in your stomach, your hearts weren’t racing. But you still wanted to kiss each other. Maybe it was the proximity. But it could also be the familiarness of the situation. Whatever it was, you found yourself leaning closer to him. Your lips ghosted over his, barely touching them and you stopped. You wanted to know that he didn’t have a problem with it. Donghyuck closed the gap, taking your bottom lip between his. Nothing felt new or different. You knew this feeling. You knew it so well. This was the feeling of your first kiss. It was the same for Donghyuck. Nostalgic some might say. 

You pulled away first, looking down at your lap. You couldn’t meet his eyes, scared that if you did you’d find yourself falling in love with him again. Everything about this was just so overwhelming. Donghyuck cupped your jaw and brought your lips back to his, this time in a more passionate kiss. He knew this was wrong. Hell, that door was devoid of a lock and anybody could burst through it at any moment just like you once had. Besides, broadcasting for the show was going to end soon and your managers would be looking for you. Even though Donghyuck knew this, he just couldn’t resist. Kissing you was different. Kissing you had the same effect on him as smoking did. It calmed him and relaxed him and helped him forget about his worries for just a moment. When he kissed you all he could think about was the feeling of your lips moving against his. Despite having kissed you after so long it felt the exact same. 

You both jumped at the sound of your phone ringing. Pulling away from Donghyuck you answered the call hastily. Merely seconds later his own phone rang. It was his manager. “Hello?”

“Haechan you need to come back to the dressing room now. The show’s ending and we’re gonna go out soon. Hurry up.” With that his manager hung up. Donghyuck put his lighter back in his pocket and stood up. You turned to him, still on your phone. He silently signalled that he was going to leave but you held your hand out, telling him to wait. You ended the call and stepped towards him. “I know we need to blast but I wanted your number first.”

Donghyuck raised a brow at you, taking your phone from your hands and adding his contact. You smiled at him as you took your phone back. “You know, it was great catching up after so long. I don’t mind keeping in touch. What about you?” Donghyuck shook his head. After today he wasn’t sure he’d stop thinking about you. “Great.”, you said, stepping up on your toes to kiss his cheek. “I’ll head out first then.” Donghyuck nodded and watched you slip past the door. He waited a good five minutes before he exited the room, squinting when he walked out into the brightly lit hall. He jogged back to his dressing room, gladly accepting the breath mint that his manager pushed into his mouth and spritzed him with a strong cologne before anyone smelled the nicotine off of him. 

Donghyuck felt his phone buzz in his pocket. He took it out and unlocked it to see a message from you.

“You should wipe your lips cause my lipstick stains.”

He smirked and turned to the mirror, sure enough, his lips were a dark shade of red. Asking one of the makeup artists for a wipe, he brushed at his lips until the colour toned down. His phone buzzed again, another message from you.

“That’s better.” \\

[mysewingadventures]

Historical Accuracy of Costumes in Period TV Shows - Anne With An E

I was very surprised at how well my historical accuracy post about The Aeronauts did, so I decided to write about another one! This time I’ll be talking about the fashion in Anne with an E, but I’ll be mainly focusing on the kids’ clothing because kids’ period fashion is something that’s very rarely talked about and we know very little about.

First of all, if you haven’t seen Anne with an E, please do, it’s an amazing adaptation of Lucy Maud Montgomery’s Anne of Green Gables novels which I adored reading as a kid, but unfortunately I barely remember anything from the books so watching the show was kinda cool going into it without knowing what exactly was going to happen. But anyways, enough about the show, let’s get to the fashion. A little disclaimer: some of the fashion choices made by the department are very closely tied to the plot so I might be spoiling a little bit, but I won’t be talking about any big spoilers or plot points!

So, the story takes place from 1896 (season 1) to 1899 (season 2), so we’re in the late Victorian time period.

First up, we have this dress that Anne wears at the beginning of season 1. It’s obviously way too small, very simple and plain.

It was very typical for girls to wear aprons as an outer layer so they wouldn’t get their dresses dirty, we can see that all throughout the show with all characters. But here we have something that looks odd to someone who might not know the story and Anne’s upbringing. She’s an orphaned girl, this is the only dress she has and has had for years, hence why she grew out of it. It’s plain, simple, she’s a poor girl who goes from one family to another and has to work to earn her stay. In her surroundings, nobody would have given her a new dress, or even an older but fashionable one. I’m assuming she got it at some point just because she didn’t have anything to wear and "as long as it would do the job, it was good enough."

Now, let’s fast forward a little bit until Marilla decides to finally make Anne a new dress. She mentions having some fabric laying around, so she uses that to sew the new garment.

It’s still very plain and not fashionable for the time, but it’s a garment that fits her, which was Marilla’s top (and arguably only) priority at the time. Marilla is one of a kind, she’s the direct opposite of pretty much everyone else in Avonlea. I won’t get too deep into her characterization, but Anne’s fashion reflects Marilla’s mindset that I just have to mention how she’s a woman who lives in a classist society without really becoming a part of it. She’s old fashioned at first, sure, but her priorities are different from all the other families. While everyone else cares about how they present themselves to others and how they are viewed and their reputation, Marilla stays true to herself and doesn’t change for anyone. They’re not poor, meaning they could afford pretty clothing if they wanted to but to Marilla, this is clearly a waste of money and she values other things more in life. Okay, sorry about this little ramble about her but it’s important to know to understand why Anne doesn’t have the most fashionable dresses aside from the Cuthberts being “poorer” (despite still being middle class).

When Marilla announced she wanted to make a dress for Anne, Anne immediately requested puff sleeves, which is understandable considering they were very fashionable in 1896. Anne has never had puff sleeves before and all of her friends probably did, so it’s just natural for her to want her new dress to have them.

So, puff sleeves... Enter Matthew who has a soft spot for his daughter and doesn’t share the same strict world views as Marilla. He goes out to Charlottetown to get a dress custom made for Anne, which has... *drum roll* puff sleeves!

It’s this beautiful blue dress which Anne falls in love with and wears on every special occasion. With the lace and the frills it almost feels a little too much for a child, as girls’ dresses were usually similar to adults’ but less decorated and more simple. Anne does stand out a little when she wears it to school, but the dress was clearly not made for everyday wear, she was just too excited about it not to wear it.

Here’s a cast photo (I couldn’t find any other ones where you can properly see other girls’ dresses without the aprons) and you can see that they’re generally less embellished than adults’ clothing of that time and just a little frilly.

Unless I am missing something, this was the only puff sleeve dress that Anne owns up to the end of the show, and that is because puff sleeves suddenly aren’t as fashionable anymore in the following years. The dresses still have a wider sleeve at the top but nothing that comes close to a puff sleeve.

Let’s move on with my favorite Anne dress.

I love this dress so much because it’s quite simple but still has that elegance of the Victorian era. So maybe I’m biased but I’d say it’s absolutely accurate! I’ve definitely not been thinking about making a replica and wearing it just for the heck of it. It definitely seems child-appropriate and more like an everyday dress than the previous one.

I’d also love to talk about Diana’s dresses for a moment as she is the richest girl in town (I believe? It could be Josie I’m not sure) but her dresses are always on point and beautiful and just a prime example of rich girls’ dresses of that era. Here’s one of her and her sister Minnie May wearing the same white Sunday dress.

You had to be rich to give your kids white dresses with not even an apron. Sure, you wouldn’t wear an apron on a Sunday dress, but you had to be either rich enough so your kids were used to having the best manners and wouldn’t get dirty or you had to be able to afford to get a white dress dirty. The Barry’s are both of those things.

There are many more dresses that were shown in the show but if I mentioned all of them, I’d still be writing tomorrow! Maybe I’ll make a part 2 someday. However, I couldn’t finish this post without mentioning the iconic... Just see for yourself.

And... I have contemplated for a long time whether I should say this or not as all I’ve ever seen about this dress was pure adoration but from a personal point of view, I... don’t like it. I’m sorry. And that doesn’t necessarily mean it’s not historically accurate, it’s just not my favorite personally. But I’ll get into the historical accuracy.

I had to rewatch almost the entire episode to see the dress in its full length, and after searching through a lot of fashion plates I have only found one that resembles it kind of.

But I’m still not 100% satisfied. The bodice almost feels a little outdated? If I had to guess I’d say this dress was more 1889 than 99. The skirt is historically accurate, though, as well as the sleeves. The blouse is laying a little too flat for 1899 and so is the bodice, it would have been more pigeon-breasted, just like the dresses you can see in this previous scene.

Granted, not all dresses in this scene have that silhouette and not all dresses in 1899 had that silhouette, but it just looks a little wrong with that particular style. A reason for that could be the fact that Marilla made it and maybe she just wasn’t completely up to date with the latest fashion trends and/or recycled an older dress, which is both something I could totally see her do. But then again, it could totally be something worn in 1899 and no one would bat an eyelash. Just because something isn’t common doesn’t mean it’s wrong! Actually, the more I look at it the more it looks right.

This brings me to another point I wanted to mention, which is the length of the kids’ skirts.

This is a photo I found in which they are approximately 14/15 years old.

According to a guideline I found from 1900 that I can’t include because of the 10 photos per post limitation but will link here, the hemline for that age should fall right above the uppper edge of the boot. The length we see them wear is appropriate for 4-8 year olds!

But that’s really the only thing I have to criticize. There’s not a lot of info we have on kids’ clothing so it’s hard to make a general statement but these are the things I noticed while watching the show and afterwards while doing research.

PS. The hats are all very cool and accurate! So many hats! After the lack of bonnets in some other movies seeing hats in a period film just make me happy 😊

[k-llama-llama]

Heartbeat P.3

BTS AU: 7th member

Sumi x BTS

A BTS AU based around their ‘Heartbeat’ MV

A/N: Check out the first two parts in the Sumi masterlist (link in bio)

Requests are CLOSED! But your feedback is still very important.

Masterlist and other Follow Me links in bio!

"A milkshake?" Jimin seemed confused.

"Yeah." She smiled, double checking the contents of the box. "I've got five other guys in there, all drinking milkshakes. I figured I should at least offer you one."

"I...I should probably get back to the bakery."

Sumi shrugged. "Alright, then."

"Yah! Those are my fries!"

"You didn't pay for them, and I'm hungry."

"Boys!" Sumi shouted, before turning back to Jimin. He looked confused, to say the least.

"You sure you don't want to join them?" She asked. "I think I can manage to get you some fries, too."

He glanced at the clock ticking away on the wall of the kitchen, and then sighed. "I don't really want to go back there anyways."

Sumi smiled. "Follow me then." She started to lead him through the kitchen. "You said you're from the Busan branch? Why are you making deliveries in Seoul?"

Jimin rolled his eyes. "Because they want to model our branch more after the Seoul one. Make it more modern and everything, so they've started sending employees up here for a few weeks at a time so we can get trained."

"And what do you think?" She asked, holding open the door to the dining area. "Does Seoul live up to your expectations?"

"Sure. It's awesome." He hesitated at seeing the other guys, two of whom were bleeding. "Is this some sort of gang thing?"

"Milkshake gang." Hoseok held up his cup in greeting.

"I thought you were closed, why do you keep bringing people in here?" Yoongi asked.

"Because I'm lonely." She said with an exaggerated pout. "What kind of milkshake do you want, Jimin?"

"Ah...Chocolate?"

"Sure thing." She turned to skip away. "Jungkook?"

"Yeah?" He said, still pinching his nose.

"Has it stopped bleeding?"

He pulled back the tissue, and then nodded. "I think so."

She beamed. "Then I'll make you a milkshake too."

She returned with the two shakes, setting them in front of the boys, and then got a basket of fries for Jimin, and topped off Taehyung's.

"Thank you." He said quietly.

"Where are you staying?" She asked him, resting a hand on his shoulder and leaning against the booth. "You know, if you just got into town."

"Ah, I have a reservation. At...this hotel." He held out a crumpled piece of paper.

Sumi raised an eyebrow. "Fancy place. Do you know how to get there?"

He shook his head.

"Well, it's right on my way home. If you boys make friends, I'll change and then I can actually close the shop."

"I'm almost done." Taehyung promised.

Sumi scurried into the back and took off her dress, donning a pair of skinny jeans and a striped turtleneck. Once satisfied, she locked the back door and turned off the lights, before returning to the diner.

All of the boys were chatting, with Jungkook stealing fries from Taehyung and Jimin and dipping them in his milkshake. Namjoon seemed to be mediating a discussion between Hoseok and Yoongi, who at least looked past the point of hitting someone.

"Everyone done?"

Jimin snatched the last fry away. "Yup."

"Dishes." She grabbed a tray, and everyone piled the dishes on. She set them in the sink, giving them a quick rinse and deciding to actually wash them tomorrow.

Namjoon held open the door, and she gave him a smile as she set the alarm and turned off the lights, before they all stepped out onto the street.

"You work again tomorrow?" Yoongi asked, trying to seem disinterested.

"Every single day, except for Tuesdays." She responded with a smile. "Why? Will you miss me?"

He snorted. "Not a chance." At her prodding look, he added. "But the milkshakes were pretty good."

"I'll see you around!" She said with a wave, as he turned to walk off.

"I should get going too." Hoseok said sheepishly. "I have an actual job to get to."

"Good luck!" Sumi said cheerfully. "You're welcome back anytime."

"I'm sure I'll be back." He said with a bright smile, before he disappeared around the corner as well.

She heard someone clear his throat, and turned around. "Your break almost over, Detective?"

"Just about." He sighed. "I have a feeling I'll be working on the case in this area for a while. If I stop in, you think I can get another one of those milkshakes?"

Sumi beamed. "I don't know. If you try hard enough, you might just get yourself a muffin, too."

He smiled. "Thank you, for your hospitality. I'll see you another time."

"See you."

He turned to walk away, and Sumi turned back to the remaining boys, smiling at one in particular. "I can walk you to your hotel , Taehyung. It's on the way to my apartment."

"Really?" He tried not to sound too eager. "I don't want to inconvenience you."

"Not at all." She promised. "I guess you two will be leaving us, now?"

Jimin and Jungkook shook their heads almost in sync.

"The bakery is kind of in that direction too." Jimin answered.

Jungkook wiped at his nose with a tissue. "My academy is over there too."

Sumi smirked. "What a coincidence."

They started walking in amicable silence, Sumi not hiding the fact that she was happy to have some company. Usually her walks home were long, lonely, and boring. But with Taehyung periodically asking what a certain building was, and Jungkook jumping at the chance to play tour guide, she found the walk going much faster than normal.

"That's my stop." Jimin sighed, nodding towards the bakery on the opposite side of the street.

"Have fun at work." Sumi told him honestly. "And please, stop back in at the cafe before you go back to Busan."

"I will." He promised. "And I'll pay you back for the milkshake. Do you like eclaires?"

"I love them."

"You'll get a whole box, just to yourself." Jimin smiled cutely. "See you guys!"

"See ya!" They all shouted.

"And there's your hotel, Taehyung." Sumi pointed.

He pulled nervously at the bottom of his shirt.

"Can I go in with you?" She asked. "Just to the lobby. I don't think I've ever been inside of somewhere this fancy."

"Yes, please!" He grinned. "You can both come in."

Jungkook shook his head. "I'd rather not bleed on their floors. I'll see you guys later."

"Be good!" Sumi told him, with a playful nudge on the shoulder.

She followed Taehyung up the steps, entering what had to be the fanciest hotel in Seoul. She was instantly insecure about her outfit, but she decided not to let it show as she nudged Taehyung towards the reception desk. She waited in the middle of the lobby, marvelling at the chandelier hanging right above her head.

"YAH! I told you it had to be done by three. Why can you not do anything right?"

"I'm sorry sir." An employee was getting yelled at. "There was a guest-"

"Now there are no tablecloths for a banquet beginning in an hour. What are we-"

"Excuse me!" Sumi raised her hand, stepping forward before she lost her nerve.

Both of them completely changed. The employee bowing deeply, and the manager nodding his head politely.

"How can we help you, ma'am?" The manager asked, his tone of voice entirely different to what it had been moments ago.

"I'm really sorry, but I just wanted to say thank you to this employee here." She gestured to the man, who looked up in mild surprise.

"Thank you?" He mouthed, looking understandably confused considering he'd never seen her before.

"Yes!" She turned back to the manager. "It's a little embarrassing, but I had so many bags with me, I could barely lift them! This gentleman was kind enough to help me get all of my things to my room. But it took a few trips, because well...." She floundered to think of something a rich person would say. "I just got back from New York and the shopping over there is amazing! I wanted to say thank you for your help, and I'm sorry for taking so much of your time!"

"It's quite alright miss." The manager answered for him. "Our employees always strive to help our guests."

She nodded politely, and the manager strode off, seemingly finished with his yelling match.

"Were you always that good of an actress?" The employee asked, standing back up to his full height.

Sumi shook her head. "You haven't seen anything yet. But jeez, what a piece of work. I'm Sumi, by the way."

"Seokjin." He smiled. "Thanks for that. He could've gone on for a while, but now he'll probably forget about it by tomorrow."

"Well, I wish you good luck." She smiled, intending to go back to Taehyung.

"Are you staying here?" Seokjin asked curiously.

She shook her head. "Just dropping a friend off on my way back from work."

"Not from New York?" He winked.

She frowned. "Don't make fun of me. I just saved your butt."

"You did. I'd like to pay you back, if that's okay? Can I...I don't know, buy you a coffee or something?"

"Let me ask you a very important question mister..." She glanced at his nametag. "Kim Seokjin. Do you like milkshakes?"

"Milkshakes? Of course, who doesn't like milkshakes?" He seemed confused.

"Perfect. You know the diner off the town center?" At his nod, she continued. "Meet me there on your next day off."

"Are you so in love with me you're just going to wait forever until I show up?" He asked playfully.

She threw back her head and laughed. "As if. I'm always there, and I could use some company."

He shrugged. "See you there, then."

"Oh, and one more thing." She leaned closer. "See the boy at the reception desk?"

"The one who looks like he might cry? Yeah."

"Keep an eye out for him, will you? He's a little out of his element."

"You got it." He smiled at her. "I should get back to work. But thanks for the help."

"Anytime. See you someday."

"See you."

She hurried back to Taehyung, who had just received the key to his room.

"All set?" She asked.

He nodded. "I think I'm okay now."

"Awesome." Sumi rested a hand on his arm. "Don't be a stranger, okay? If you need anything, you know where to find me."

"Why are you being so nice to me?" He asked, tilting his head.

Sumi shrugged. "I don't know. Maybe I just like being nice."

"I guess so. Thank you for your help today."

"No problem. You'll come visit me at the diner, right?"

"I promise." He nodded.

Sumi wrapped him in a hug, despite barely knowing him. "Take care. Until next time, okay?"

"Until next time." He agreed, waving at her as he headed for the elevators.

Sumi sighed and made her way out of the hotel, pausing when she saw a familiar figure sitting on the steps outside.

"Jungkook!" She exclaimed. "I thought you had academy?"

"I do." He pointed to the sky, which was getting dark. "But I wanted to walk you home." He said the last part nervously, as if afraid she would tell him to get lost.

Her heart melted instantly. "Well, if you insist. I'll walk fast. I really don't want you to be late."

"Okay." He laughed, hurrying alongside her.

"You'll come back and visit me at the diner, too, right?" She asked hopefully. "You guys are the best customers I've had in a while."

"I will." He promised. "But I'll bring nicer friends."

She laughed. "Sounds good. This is my stop."

"Oh, wow. It was really just around the corner." He looked embarrassed.

"It was getting dark. And you're like a taekwondo champion or something, so it's a good thing I had you there to protect me."

"I'm not  champion." He protested.

"You should go." She said. "Study hard, okay?"

"Okay, Noona. I'll see you soon?"

"See you soon." She smiled as he broke into a run and hurried away.

As she stepped into the lobby of her apartment building, Sumi felt a strange pang in her chest.  Like something was missing.

But what on earth could be missing?

[queenjunoking]

Wolf Taming Pt 49

CW: Noncon - Petplay

I heard the whir of the gears as the arm started to move. Despite my convention, I didn't move. It wasn’t the gear that solidified my status. It wasn’t even being locked in this device or giving up the hopeless attempt at running a few moments ago.

It was taking this first step. Taking this step meant that I was willingly going along with what they wanted. I had made compromises with Z, but this was different.

Unfortunately my first step was taken against my will as the arm yanked me a few feet forward before the machine stopped. I heard the door swing open and Clarity walked into my view.

“What was that about?” She asked, her big sad eyes staring right at me.. “You need to walk with the arm, Callidora. Aren’t you going to be good?”

I tried not to sigh as I decided on what to say. Clarity seemed strict but she could be sympathetic. Despite what she did, she also seemed a bit sad about doing it. I decided to try honesty to see if it would score some sympathy points.

“This is the first thing I’ve had to do on my own since I was taken and it is… difficult.” It wasn’t the full truth. Part of my pride was still getting in the way. But admitting that would probably get me worked twice as hard.

She stroked my face again and nodded. “Taking the first step is hard, but you have to take it. This is your place now. If you don’t walk the next time I turn on the machine, I will punish Lucky and Clover.”

I felt my heart jump into my throat. “Wait! Why them? I’d be the one not listening.”

Clarity gave me a look that was somehow sadder than usual. “You’re useful, Callidora. A race horse is valuable to Mistress Eos and her farm. We don’t want to hurt you if we don’t have to hurt you. Hurting you is a last resort. Instead others will be punished in your place.”

The weight of Clarity’s words pulled her down. What she was saying seemed so stupid, but it made sense to her. Eos obviously wanted someone like me to do some kind of race. If I got hurt then I couldn’t race. She was hoping that the threat of other people getting hurt would keep me in line. Something I hadn’t fully expected.

I was strong. The shock collar Z had placed me in had hurt. It could be debilitating. But I could take it. I was sure I could take whatever punishment they wanted to inflict on me.

But could Lucky and Clover?

Who else might be punished for any slight these monsters saw?

“I’m starting up the machine, Callidora.” Clarity’s voice broke through the thoughts swirling around her head.

I heard the machine start back up. I felt it pull forward. I took a deep breath and, with some hesitation, I stepped forward.

Giving in almost hurt. I felt like I was pounding a nail into my coffin with each step I took. The exercise felt unnatural. The arm kept me moving in a perfect circle around the pen, there was no room for deviation.

Clarity was silent for the first few rotations. I was only able to see her when the rotation brought her within my limited field of vision. I could see the other woman in the pen next to me after I passed by Clarity. She avoided making eye-contact. I wasn’t sure why specifically, maybe it was shame?

After I finished the forth rotation Clarity stopped the machine. I came to a stop in front of her. She said something to another one of the stablehands and they ran off. I had no choice but to stand there and wait. It wasn’t until then that I really felt a new kind of helplessness. The cage in Z’s basement was one thing, I could move around in that. I was strapped to a chair in the stable last night, but it didn’t feel like helplessness.

This did, My arms were tightly bound behind me. I was outside, but the machine kept me in place. The chains attaching me to the arm kept me standing straight, forcing me to present my body to the woman in front of me. I knew any wrong move was going to get people punished in my place.

“I’m proud of your first few steps as a true race horse, Callidora.” Clarity gave me a gentle smile, but her eyes still looked sad. “You can probably imagine what racing will be like. You’ll be in a pretty similar outfit, the only difference is it’ll be designed to show you off. Frosthoof, for example, was in her new racing attire. Mistress Eos will be commissioning some for you as well.”

“Aren’t I lucky.” I couldn’t swallow the sarcastic remark. But if Clarity picked it up, she didn’t show it.

“You definitely are.” She paused as the stablehand came back with a small bag. She rifled through it and took out a brush and began to use it on my hair as she continued to talk, much to my annoyance. “We both have high hopes for you. Someday you’ll be on the track, racing against the other race horses. Society members of course place bets on the different horses. Doing well will earn Mistress Eos a lot of renown. She is a very important person in the Society and serving her is an honor.”

“So why am I walking in circles instead of running.” I asked as I tried to pull away, not that there was much space to move.

Clarity sighed and put the brush down. “You will race on those specially made hoof heels. You did well on your marathon, but you’ll need to get used to them enough that you may as well have been born with them. Tripping or mistepping can hurt you very badly.”

“I could just walk up and down the road out there to get used to them.” I said as I gestured to the path outside the pen with my head.

“Maybe. But this pen serves two purposes. I can set this to keep going. I could leave you in here for hours with no choice to walk forward. Something that’ll probably happen as part of your training.” I grit my teeth as Clarity casually told me about the hours I’d spend everyday walking in circles.

“So what’s the other reason?”

Clarity reached into the back and pulled out a crop before entering the pen. “Mistress Eos requires all her ponies to learn how to walk correctly. Back straight. Knees up high. Looking straight forward.” She harshly corrected my posture as she talked, poking me with the crop. “This is something important for show ponies, incorrect posture deducts points. Race horses are expected to walk correctly when entering the track though.”

“So there’s no real reason to learn this aside from Eos wanting to make this as humiliating as possible.” I couldn’t choke back the bitterness. “Why do w- OW!”

My question was interrupted by Clarity hitting me on the ass with her crop. “You do it because Mistress Eos tells you to do it.” Clarity’s voice had developed a dangerous edge to it. “You do not need any other reason to do it. A pony does not question their owner’s decisions.”

I felt some kind of mix of rage and pity. There was obviously something wrong with Clarity. She always looked sad, she had emotions and seemed to have some kind of twisted empathy for the slaves forced to be ponies. But questioning Eos like that set her off. I couldn’t imagine why she would care so much about someone questioning Eos, it was like she was brainwashed or something.

“Fine.” It was all I could manage to say without risking getting into more trouble.

Before Clarity could continue another stablehand walked up with an arm full of what I could only think of as belts. “Thank you, you may go now.” Clarity’s voice returned to it’s sorrowful tone as she took the belts from the other slave and sent her on her way.

“New fashion accessories?” I asked, unsure what else they could be for.

“If you want to think of them that way.” Clarity knelt next to my feet and placed one on each of my ankles, then another one just below my knees. “There are sensors on the posts around the pen. They’ve been calibrated to your height. When you walk your knee has to go a certain height. Those things I just put on you will be able to tell how far away they are from each other and using that information they can tell if you’re lifting your leg high enough.”

My eyes widened when she showed me the next thing.

A phone.

“I can keep track of how many correct steps you take out of how many total steps you take.” Clarity left the pen and went back over to the machine controls. “We’re going to start with two hundred correct steps before you can take a short break.”

Without warning I felt the machine start back up and drag me forward. My mind should have been on the task. I didn’t want to get in trouble this soon. But all I could think of was the phone. Clarity was trusted, it could be a real phone with the ability to call people.

Which meant I might be able to call for help.

Eos

“What do you mean my ownership is being contested.” I asked Morton as he shifted uncomfortably in his seat.

The little worm had come onto my farm uninvited. He said he was afraid of discussing it on the phone, or even calling to warn me he was coming. I could see why, but it didn’t make me any happier.

“W-well, Mistress E-Eos.” He stuttered. “I was given a tip by someone close to the council that someone was pushing back against your ownership claim of your new pony.”

“Who would push back against me!” I slammed my hand against the desk and watched Morton jump. “Who gives a fuck about Z? Who would help her file a claim against me?”

“M-master Rayne and Lady Flora. She seems to have enlisted their help and they’ve hired Molly DuBois’s group to fight against your claim of ownership.” Every word out of his mouth spiked my blood pressure.

Of course Rayne and Flora wouldn’t just be satisfied with sinking one of my own family members. They also needed to interfere in a matter that didn’t even concern them.

Which meant I also had Z to blame for what happened to Rhiannon.

“Morton. Get out of my sight. If I ever see you again I will make sure that no one in your family ever achieves membership again. I think your daughter would make a wonderful statue on my lawn.” I watched his eyes go wide and he sprinted out of the room.

I felt a little better after Morton left, but my problem remained. Rayne and Flora weren’t a group I could simply fight against. They were powerful. They were someone who were regarded as being on the same level that I was. Some idiots thought they were more important.

I couldn’t simply brush them aside. I needed to take a different tactic.

There was a loud screeching sound as Morton peeled out of my driveway and down the road. I turned around and looked towards the pens. I could see Clarity standing outside one, watching Callidora walk in circles on the inside.

I smiled as I realized what I needed to do. The trick to rebuffing Z’s attempt at getting her slave back wasn’t to fight her, Rayne or Flora.

No, the path to winning was through Callidora.

[jessbakescakes]

Anonymous asked for: Josh/Donna - Griffin McElroy’s “exits” speech from The Adventure Zone.

Taking prompts from this post, this post, or this post!

“When someone leaves your life, those exits are not made equal. Some are beautiful and poetic and satisfying. Others are abrupt and unfair. But most are just unremarkable, unintentional, clumsy.” - Griffin McElroy, The Adventure Zone

Josh was used to people leaving his life. It seemed like an inevitability. He’d come to realize that he spent an inordinate amount of time preparing himself for the eventual departure of everyone important to him. At least, that’s what Stanley said. Stanley’s usually right.

Sometimes, he knew it was coming. Law school didn’t come with “See you next year, have a great summer” scrawled in yearbooks, after all. 

Then there were the failed relationships. He tried to date women who weren’t in politics, but he found himself having to “defend” his “inattentiveness” - when in reality, he himself felt unsupported, misunderstood, or generally lonely. And his time with the women who he met in his line of work usually ended badly, too. There was a distinct possibility that he was just bad at this, bad at relationships. But the more he tried to fix it, the less he understood what he was doing wrong in the first place. 

Of course, everyone knew about Joanie. About his dad. About Leo. Talk about abrupt and unfair departures.

The walls he built were impenetrable, an adamantine fortress to protect himself from the vulnerabilities of being human. He didn’t mind being vulnerable; he minded being vulnerable with nothing to show for it. So he just… stopped letting people in at some point.

The only person to ever come close to tearing down those walls was Donna.

Donna, with a metaphorical hammer and chisel, chipping slowly away at the barriers he’d spent all this time reinforcing. Donna, with her persistence and her selflessness, with her bright smile and her laugh and the way she would look at him for just a second too long, her eyes saying the words her lips couldn’t. Donna, who changed the bandages on his incision after Rosslyn. Donna, who used to sit by his bed to make sure he was still breathing some nights (he knew, even if he never told her he did). Donna, who brought him back from the edge of a breakdown more than once. 

But she left him, too. Almost for good in Gaza, then in Germany. Then she came back to work, quit her job, and she left him, over and over again. Or at least every time they walked away from each other, passing by one another on the campaign trail, it felt like she left him again. Watching her walk away without knowing when or if he’d ever see her again was a specific kind of torture.

He knows it’s not her fault. He doesn’t really hold it against her. He does blame himself sometimes, for not giving her more opportunities, for not being there for her after Gaza, for everything. 

And there’s nothing he wants more than to keep her from leaving him again. He just doesn’t know how to do that. So here they are, in Hawaii, Josh lying awake and hoping that Donna will grasp just how much he wants to make this work. 

“Josh,” Donna murmurs.

“Yeah?”

“You’re tossing and turning.”

“Sorry,” he says. “Just thinking. Got a lot on my mind, I guess.”

Donna turns over. “About what? Do you wanna talk about it?”

“Nah. It can wait. It’s nothing, really.”

“You sure? If it’s keeping you up, I don’t think it’s ‘nothing’. Talk to me.”

He lets the silence linger for a few moments, wondering how to put the gnawing feeling in the pit of his stomach into words. Josh has spent a decent part of their first day in Hawaii in his own head. Donna noticed, so she made it clear that she wants to hear what goes on in his head -- the good, the bad, the ugly, and everything in between -- but old habits die hard, and it’s going to take Josh some time to get used to sharing what’s on his mind in a way that effectively communicates what he needs and wants. 

“I don’t want to sound… ugh, I don’t know.” He doesn’t know how to finish that sentence.

“Open? Emotionally vulnerable?” Donna teases. 

“I was gonna say ‘needy’, but, point taken.” He takes a deep breath. “Sometimes I wonder if you’ll get sick of me.”

“What do you mean?”

Josh rests on his elbow and turns to face her. “I’m not great at this sort of stuff, Donna. That’s why I… did this. Brought you here, at least partly. I wanted to show that I’m in this. I know you gave us a timeframe to… figure things out, and I want to figure it out. I just don’t want you to leave before I get it together.”

Donna doesn’t say anything. She leans up on her arm and turns on the bedside lamp, looking him in the eye as he talks. He searches her face for some sort of hint as to how she’s taking this. She doesn’t look angry, by any stretch - if anything, she looks somewhat sympathetic, but he can’t be sure. 

The silence spurs him on. “I know you’ve seen me screw it up with people before. You have a unique perspective on all of this, having seen me self-destruct a million times. I want to get it together, I really do.” 

Her lack of a response is unsettling. He takes a deep, shaky breath, then exhales, sitting all the way up. He looks at her again to gauge her reaction, but her expression remains unchanged. 

“And now I’m dumping on you. And I’ve made it weird. See, I don’t know how to do this.”

“Josh,” Donna finally says. “You didn’t make it weird. I was just giving you space to process.”

“Oh. I think that’s the longest you’ve ever let me talk uninterrupted.”

Donna laughs. “Surely not. You’ve started and finished many a monologue in your day. Just maybe not about your feelings.”

“I can’t say I’ll make it a habit,” he quips. “Doesn’t feel very good. At least not when I’m not paying someone to get inside my head.”

“When was the last time you talked to Stanley?” she asks. “Have you called him since…”

“It’s been a little while,” Josh says, cutting her off before she says what he knows she’s going to say. She was going to say since Leo died, but truth be told, he hasn’t called before Donna went to Gaza.

“Do you think it may be a good idea to talk to him during the transition?” 

He nods. “Probably.”

Donna takes his hand. “I can tell you’re trying, Josh. I know it’s not easy. I want you to talk to me. I’m willing to listen and help how I can. But I also know you well enough to know that my brand of support is different than Stanley’s, and sometimes you need that, too.”

“You’re right,” he says. “Sorry, I kind of killed the mood. I promise I’ll call him when we get back.”

“Don’t be sorry.” All of a sudden, she smiles. “You must really like me, huh?”

He laughs. “What makes you say that?”

“You were pretty worried I was going to bolt,” Donna says. 

He looks at her for a minute before he leans in and kisses her, softly and slowly. Her hands find their way to his hair, pulling him in toward her as the kiss becomes more intense. He finally breaks the kiss, pressing his forehead to hers. “I don’t think I’ll ever stop worrying about that.”

“I think you will. Someday,” she answers, before reconnecting for another kiss.

Someday. He likes the sound of that.

[here4theheartbreak]

Firelit First (TaeKook)

AO3 Link Here!

✩ Relationships: taekook (Taehyung x Jungkook)

✩Genre: angst, smut, hybrid au

✩Rating: Explicit

✩Tags: smut, hybrid au, dragon-dog hybrid Taehyung, bunny hybrid Jungkook, first time, established relationship, bottom Jungkook, mating, licking, knotting, Bad Dragon, insecure Taehyung, fire breathing

✩Summary: They said a bunny and a dragon-dog would never work out. They were wrong in every way except for one. Jungkook’s need for physical intimacy - and Taehyung’s insecurity surrounding it - was driving a wedge between them.

✩Word Count: ~6.5k

✩A/N: Written for @btsholidaybingo​ - Square: Bonfire

What do a helicopter eared bunny rabbit and a dragon-Newfoundland fusion have in common?

According to Jin, the world’s sassiest hyena – nothing… Save for the fact that they both have crappy taste in boys. 

But Taehyung, the dragon-Newfoundland in question, believed that was wrong. His bunny boy, of course, did have a bad taste in men. He was dating him for God’s sake. But Jungkook was perfect. The two had grown up together, attending a prestigious hybrid boarding school in Seoul, along with Jin and Hoseok, and the rest of their little gang. As young children, the were separated by diet – the squirrels and chipmunks and bunnies and other pretty prey hybrids in one class; and the wolves, dogs, hyenas, tigers and yes – dragon, in the other. They were allowed to play together during recess, sternly supervised lest a wolf decide biting one of their gentle classmates was a better plan than playing tag. It was during these recesses that the group met, and stayed strong throughout the grades. As they aged and became more in control of their less human urges, the classes combined, and their friendship grew even deeper.

Not that Jungkook’s parents were very happy. The first time he brought home a damned dragon playmate for a weekend trip back home they nearly called the police. Dragons were rare hybrids, only a few families existing worldwide. And Taehyung – a dragon crossed with a dog – was a medical miracle. Fusions were one in a million, especially fusions of such a different species type.

Yet there he was, all arms and black hair and wings, even folded up tightly, too big for his gawky body. His tail was long and thick, covered in shaggy black fur, always wagging. Across the bridge of his nose and streaking down his arms was a smattering of sparkling emerald green scales. His eyes were a striking, unnatural gold color and – when he got extra excited, angry, or otherwise, puffs of hot smoke would bubble up from his lungs. Though the rumor was he could easily burn down a town with one breath, actual fire was far harder for Taehyung to form; the limitations of his human and dog DNA interfering with the dragon inside him.

Despite the worries that Taehyung would injure Jungkook in some way, their friendship blossomed, and formed something far more intimate by the time they reached high school. As other hybrids paired off and found boyfriends and girlfriends of similar species, or of humans, their group of misfits remained mostly together. Jin was found making out with the shy, soft-spoken squirrel, Hoseok. Their broody, panther Yoongi, took the fiery, hyper fox Jimin to their first prom, and intelligent, and quick bat Namjoon ended up with the feisty meerkat Halsey. It was only natural that soft, gentle bunny Jungkook with ears too long and body too big for his prey DNA would end up with the dragon-dog.

 They stayed together throughout high school, college, and moved in together as soon as they both graduated. Everyone knew someday they probably would consider marriage, though both of them thought the idea of it was somewhat outdated and unnecessary. And now, as young men in their twenties – they could not be happier.

It was a Friday afternoon, and Taehyung had finished his week’s work early. He decided it would be great to go home and surprise Jungkook, who had the day off. Maybe they could go down south for the weekend to visit Jungkook’s parents. It had been a while since he had a full weekend to himself. 

As he rounded the corner to head to their bedroom, he heard a deep, low moan. Taehyung hesitated. That… Sounded like Jungkook. Panic clenched his chest. Surely Jungkook wouldn’t do that. They’d been together for too long, and there’d never been a hint of an affair. Taehyung knew he was lacking in bed… But he worked hard to make sure Jungkook was satisfied. Not easy, given his boyfriend had the sex drive of the animal side of himself, but Taehyung did his best. An affair wouldn’t be unexpected, Taehyung supposed as he crept closer to their shut bedroom. He could hear Jungkook panting even through the closed door, punctuated by soft moans and the creak of their bed. Taehyung’s heart sank. Who was it going to be? One of their friends? A stranger? Another rabbit? Another gentle, soft prey animal hybrid? Scenario after scenario raced through his mind as he reached for the doorknob. He could just wait, he supposed. Sit in the living room, let the guy leave. But he needed to see with his own two eyes.

He grabbed the door and opened it slowly, trying not to make it squeak. Another creep forward and he peeked his head into the room. 

Jungkook was on his hands and knees on the bed, nude. His tan skin was glistening with sweat. His head was hung, one ear folded back comfortably, the other – which had been damaged when he was younger and always stood a little crooked, was hanging down more like a lop ear. Even from the doorway Taehyung could see his mouth hanging open, nose – dusted with a fine, silky fur and dotted with little white spots, twitching with excitement. But behind him, where his white nubbin tail stood high as it could go, was not a human, or hybrid, or anything living. Rather, it was a dildo, attached to the wall by suction. 

When he went forward, exposing more of the toy, Taehyung could see that it was thick and bulbous, with what looked like scaled ridges along the base. The color faded from purple to green to a blackish near the tip, with a glittery silver that seemed to sparkle in the lights. Jungkook was thoroughly enjoying himself, his cock twitching and leaking between his legs, moans and whimpers slipping from his mouth as he fucked himself onto it. It wasn’t human, that was for sure. 

“Jungkook.” Taehyung spoke firm and clear.

Jungkook yelped, pulling off the large toy. He scrambled to cover himself with a sheet, as if the dildo on the wall didn’t give away what he was doing. When he was totally off it, Taehyung was able to see the severe curve and the ridges more clearly, as well as the pointed tip and the base, which was covered with scales. It was reptilian, for sure. It looked, much to Taehyung’s disgust, like a horrible rendition of a dragon. 

“Taehyung! You’re home early,” Jungkook stuttered. 

Taehyung entered the room. Jungkook reached for the toy but Taehyung was faster, swiping it and yanking it from the wall. He held it in his hand, gauging the thickness. His wings gave an annoyed flap, ruffling Jungkook’s hair and a few papers on the desk. 

“What is this?”

“It’s a dildo, Tae.” Jungkook pouted. “I’m a grown up, I’m allowed to own a dildo.”

“Is this a dragon?”

Jungkook clenched his jaw. “So what if it is?”

“You’re dating a dragon. Do you realize how offensive this is?”

Jungkook crossed his arms, his ears flattening down in annoyance. “A dragon that won’t give me his dick no matter how much I beg. Least I can do is feel it through a toy.”

Taehyung blinked in surprise. His shoulders sagged a little. “Jungkook…”

“I don’t want to hear it.” Jungkook rose and grabbed the toy from Taehyung’s hands. He brushed past him, pulling on his shorts. 

“Where are you going?” Taehyung called, chasing after Jungkook as he walked out of the room. 

He went into the bathroom, washing the toy gently. He met Taehyung’s glare in the mirror. “What?”

“It barely looks like me,” he mumbled.

“Not that I would know. You do everything you can not to show me your dick.”

“I make you come other ways.”

“So?” Jungkook turned, splashing water as he did. “You think that’s the same? We’ve been dating forever, Tae. How do you think it makes me feel when you refuse to fuck me? All of our friends lost their virginity years ago. Making me come with your fingers or mouth or our toys isn’t nearly the same. And, you never let me pleasure you. You always go hide out in the bathroom and jerk off. Are you really so disgusted by me? Is it because I’m a bunny? Am I not good enough to turn you on?” As Jungkook ranted his anger shifted to something desperate His eyes, big and doe-ish on a good day, were even larger, wet with unshed tears of frustration. 

“Jungkook, no,” Taehyung said, closing the gap between them to try and hug his lover. Jungkook pushed him back, turning back to the sink. He began to scrub the toy again with a renewed vigor. 

“I don’t think you’re disgusting, Jungkook. I—” Taehyung saw Jungkook’s shoulders shake, his ears hanging down dejectedly.

“Don’t cry, bunny boy,” Taehyung pleaded. He wrapped his arms around Jungkook’s shoulders, burying his face in the crook of his neck. He kissed and licked gently at the soft skin there, whimpering. “I didn’t mean to make you cry.”

“Why won’t you take me to bed?” Jungkook whispered. “I try not to let it bother me, but I—You know what I am. You know how I am.”

“I know. I thought I was doing a good job satisfying you. I’m sorry, Jungkookie. I’ll try harder.”

“No!” Jungkook jerked away, shoving Taehyung back. “Get off me. I don’t want you to try harder. I don’t want you to finger fuck me or suck my dick.”

Taehyung’s entire body sagged, his tail and the ends of his wings brushing the cool linoleum. “What do you want?”

“I want you to fuck me!” Jungkook cried, whipping around. “I want to feel that connection with you. I want to know I don’t disgust you. It’s been a decade. Why won’t you tell me the truth? What are you so afraid of?”

“Hurting you,” Taehyung said, folding his arms over his chest. “I’m scared of hurting you.”

“I’m not some tiny breakable baby,” Jungkook said, his hands clenched in tight fists at his sides. His ears were flattened to his head, brows furrowed. “I’m sick that you even think that. You know that predator-prey shit is bullshit!”

“It’s not because of that, Jungkook. Don’t you dare accuse me of that.”

“Then what is it?!”

“I have a knot!” Taehyung shouted, finally losing his temper. “All these years I hid it from you because my cock is deformed. It’s hideous and it’s scary and nobody would want that. I’m a monster, Jungkook. Your parents said it enough while we were growing up and it’s the truth. You wouldn’t want to fuck me if you saw my cock and I wouldn’t blame you for packing up and leaving.”

Jungkook’s expression softened, his shoulders and fists relaxing. “A lot of hybrids have knots, Taehyung. Why would you be so scared of that? You’re half dog. It makes sense.”

“Because it’s a dragon’s cock. But it has a knot at the base. It’s horrible. And it’s…” He drifted off. It’s big. And even bigger with the stupid knot. And I can’t prevent it from happening. Every time I come it… Just … Pops and I—” He shrugged, wrapping his arms around himself. His wings fluttered, folding in front of him like a leathery cloak. “I know you’re not a tiny baby, but I’m afraid it’ll hurt you,” he finished.

Jungkook pouted a little, tilting his head. His one floppy ear tilted further, hanging down. His nose twitched in thought. He reached back, grabbing the dragon toy in the sink. He held it out to Taehyung.

“Is it bigger than this?”

Taehyung nodded. 

“By how much? Without the knot.”

Taehyung reached out and looped his forefinger and thumb around the biggest part. He added another few centimeters.

“And with?” Jungkook pressed. 

Another hand slipped out of his wing cocoon, first fingers together and thumbs together, around the size of a softball.

Jungkook’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. Taehyung folded back in on himself, his cheeks mottled red with embarrassment. 

“I’m sorry. I—I think I’ll go stay at Jin’s tonight. Give you a chance to… Decide.” 

Jungkook frowned further. “Decide?”

“If you’re gonna leave me. And pack up, when you do…” Taehyung felt tears burning his nose and whimpered softly. He huffed and shook a little, folding his wings back and holding his head high. “I’m sorry I strung you on this long. It wasn’t fair of me to assume you’d be okay with what I couldn’t do.” He tried to smile, but knew it likely fell flat.

Jungkook’s face drooped further. “Are you dumping me?”

Taehyung looked down. He knew it would be for the best. Just end it, stop stringing him along, promising something he’d never be able to offer. “I just want you to be happy. And satisfied. And I can’t –” He looked at the dildo in Jungkook’s hand. “I can’t do that for you.” He smiled weakly and shrugged. “Your parents were right after all.”

Jungkook’s head tilted in confusion. 

Taehyung shrugged. “I’d never be able to give you a happy life. I’m just dog.” He turned to go, brushing past Jungkook. He considered heading to the bedroom, grabbing a few things, but decided against it. Best just to leave. He was so humiliated and ashamed. He should have come clean with Jungkook early on in their relationship, he knew it. He felt horrible for lying the way he had.

Jungkook bounded out of the bathroom, skidding to a stop in front of Taehyung. He shoved him back. “You don’t get to break up with me.”

Taehyung blinked lamely. “I—”

“Shut up.” 

Taehyung closed his mouth. 

Jungkook smiled a little. “You really are noisy. I thought big dogs were supposed to be quiet.” 

Taehyung huffed, twin puffs of smoke coming from his nostrils. It was a common joke between them – his hyperactivity was nothing like the large, laid back Newfoundland that made up a part of his DNA. 

Jungkook smile grew, his nose crinkling. “Since you wanna be noisy though…” He sank to his knees, his hands going to Taehyung’s belt. He managed to unhook it and begin working Taehyung’s zipper down before Taehyung realized what was happening. He yelped and jumped back, his wings spreading fast enough to knock over a pile of books on the nearby shelf. He flapped them once, and Jungkook giggle, shaking his head. “Come back here. I’m gonna suck your dick.”

“Jungkook!” Taehyung cried, surprised at the brazenness of his boyfriend. Undeterred, Jungkook crawled forward, nuzzling against Taehyung’s crotch. 

“I want it, Tae.” He looked up at him, his mouth pressed against the bulge of Taehyung’s cock. “I want you to take me. Tonight. I wanna feel you inside of me.”

When Taehyung didn’t respond, Jungkook sighed. He rose and grabbed Taehyung’s hands. “I get why you hid it. I’m not mad. I’m sad that you felt you had to, that you were scared of what I’d do… I get it.”

Taehyung lowered his gaze. 

“But,” Jungkook pressed. “That doesn’t mean you get to go back into hiding. You told me what it is you’re scared of, and I didn’t go running for the hills. And I’m not going to. I love you, you big dumb dog. And I still want you. Both as my boyfriend… And as the man who takes my virginity.”

“Jungkook—”

“It won’t hurt me. I might have bunny DNA but I’m not some tiny little thing that’ll tear in two. I know I can take it. Didn’t you see me taking Kelvin?”

Taehyung spluttered. “It has a name?”

Jungkook giggled and nodded. “It does… But I’d rather be taking Taehyung.” He cupped Taehyung through his jeans. “Please trust that I know my body. That I won’t break.”

Taehyung bared his teeth, another puff of smoke breaking over Jungkook’s face. 

Jungkook giggled. “I can feel you getting worked up.”

“You’re grabbing my dick, of course I’m getting worked up.”

“Then will you do it? I don’t mean to push you. But … Is the knot and the size the only thing keeping you from taking me?”

Taehyung nodded. “I’ve wanted for so long to make love to you,” he admitted.

“Then if those weren’t an issue…”

Taehyung nodded, his eyes slipping shut. Jungkook was on the nose – if it weren’t for his anxiety surrounding his dick, he would have made love to Jungkook years ago.

“So say they’re not. If they end up being an issue, fine, we can deal with it. Better to have tried and failed than not have tried at all, right?”

“You shouldn’t be so wise with your hand on a cock,” Taehyung mumbled with no venom. Jungkook laughed. 

“So is that a yes? You’ll try with me?”

Taehyung hesitated. He opened his eyes searching Jungkook’s bright, perfect face. He reached up, stroking over his ears. “Yeah, it’s a yes.”

Jungkook’s grin widened. He sank back to his knees, but Taehyung grabbed him, hauling him back up. “But not right now.”

Jungkook’s pout was so adorable Taehyung nearly gave in. He shook his head though, thumbing Jungkook’s velvety soft nose. “Tonight. If you’re going to have sex with a dragon we’re going to do it right.”

“There’s a right way?”

Taehyung nodded. “A way all the men in my family took their lovers for the first time. It’s tradition.”

Jungkook grinned and nodded. “Of course. When?”

Taehyung glanced at his watch. “It’s three now. Why don’t you go take a shower. I’ll go out, get a few things. And then be back home by five to pick you up for dinner and then… After…”

Jungkook nodded eagerly. He backed up, heading to the bathroom, but Taehyung grabbed his wrist. 

“No using that horrible Kelvin. No jerking off before tonight, okay?”

“I promise,” Jungkook said.

“And… Prep yourself a little, in the shower.”

Jungkook nodded again. He approached Taehyung folding himself into his arms and kissing over a spot of scales on the curve of his neck. “I’m so excited for tonight.”

“Me too,” Taehyung whispered. And he was, if he was being honest. Scared… But excited.

He let Jungkook hurry off to the bathroom before grabbing his keys and slipping his shoes back on, heading out to buy a few necessary items and plan for the evening.

When Taehyung returned, he could hear Jungkook singing from the bedroom. The sound warmed his heart. As quiet as he could, he snuck up and peeked in, watching Jungkook apply just a little makeup to his eyes. He didn’t need it, Taehyung had told him a thousand times, but it did look beautiful. 

“Ready?” He asked when the eyeliner pen was a safe distance from Jungkook’s eye. His boyfriend jumped, his ears twitching back. 

“You scared me,” Jungkook complained.

“Sorry.”

Taehyung entered fully, wrapping his arms around Jungkook’s middle. He nuzzled his neck, kissing it gently before curving his neck up and letting his teeth graze Jungkook’s fuzzy ear. “You look great. And smell even better.”

“It’s the cologne you like,” Jungkook said, smiling at him through the mirror. “I’m ready. Where are we going?”

“Just someplace to get some food. A nice dinner and then we’ll be headed to a more secluded spot.”

Jungkook’s eyebrows shot up, his nose twitching. “What do you mean?”

“Trust me. Get your coat on, I gotta change really quick.”

Jungkook nodded. He grabbed lip balm, applying a little before pocketing it and bouncing out of the room. 

Their dinner was quiet and smooth, a natural ease of just being together that had been formed from the number of years spent in one another’s company. Despite the knowledge of what would be (hopefully) happening later that evening, the meal flowed with no tension or awkwardness, even when the waiter did a double take and very nearly dropped their drinks at the sight of Taehyung’s thick, leathery wings, topped with fur. It wasn’t a new thing; there weren’t many dragons and Taehyung, despite his kind, timid nature, was eye catching. 

When dinner ended, Taehyung began to drive, still keeping Jungkook in the dark about where they were going. He knew Jungkook trusted him, and hoped this was a pleasant surprise. Up, toward the mountains they went, and Jungkook’s excitement and curiosity was beginning to bubble over. 

“You won’t give me any hints?” He asked for the fifth time.

Taehyung only smiled, reaching over and stroking his floppy ear. “I will not. Settle down, would you? You’re wiggling all over the place.”

“I’m curious,” Jungkook whined. 

“We’re almost there.”

Jungkook huffed, pouting a little and looking out the window. “Are we going camping?”

“Something like that.”

Jungkook wiggled excitedly, grinning. “We haven’t camped in forever. It’s such a nice day to do it too.”

Taehyung nodded, turning a curve. He parked in front of an open field. Jungkook tilted his head. “Here?”

“Here.” Taehyung got out and circled around to the trunk, pulling out a few bags of things he’d purchased. He heard Jungkook get out and take off, and glanced up to see Jungkook darting into the field, burning off some of the nervous energy he must have built up in the car. 

He rushed back, breathing heavily. “What is that big black spot in the field? The dirt one.”

“That’s for a bonfire.”

Jungkook’s eyes lit up. “Are we gonna have one?”

Taehyung smirked. He shut the trunk and set the bags down, wrapping his arms around Jungkook’s waist. He dragged him close. “What kind of dragon would I be if I didn’t make love to my mate in front of a fire?”

“Mate?” Jungkook squeaked. 

Taehyung smiled shyly. He let go of Jungkook’s waist and grabbed the bags, hurrying toward the center of the field. He had worked hard to avoid that term. It was outdated and he knew a lot of people took offense to it, especially since it was so animalistic in some people’s minds. But for dragons – mate was the highest honor. He wondered it Jungkook knew that, or if he’d be offended. When they were a new couple, Taehyung’s parents had warned him that a prey animal would never make a good life partner for someone like Taehyung… But to a dragon, isn’t everything prey? He loved Jungkook. And this felt right. He was terrified, he knew, as he set up a little base of padding and some soft blankets near where the fire would be. It could all go south fast, but he was trying to remain optimistic. He could feel Jungkook watching him, but continued to putter about, laying out a little cooler of snacks and drinks for them, a little black bag with some more adult natured items, and finally walking around to gather up some firewood and kindling for the bonfire. 

“Can I light it?” Jungkook finally asked, crouching next to Taehyung as he set up the wood. Taehyung grinned and huffed, puffing a little smoke from his nostrils. 

“Can you breathe fire?”

Jungkook’s eyes widened. “You’re gonna? You almost never—”

“Tradition.”

Jungkook nodded. He scooted back, watching Taehyung eagerly. Taehyung chuckled. 

“You’re gonna give me performance anxiety.”

“Sorry… I just never get to see you do it. You’re so shy about it.”

“It takes a lot of effort is all.” Taehyung looked over. “But you’re worth it.”

He let his wings splay out, flicking gently as he inhaled deep puffs of air. He began to puff out smoke, first light – almost white puffs, and slowly darkening. 

Little sparks appeared next, stinging the soft meat of his tongue. He furrowed his brows and blew out again, a warmth growing in his chest. And again, it was almost uncomfortable now – there it was. A third time, his mouth open wider now, tongue flatted against the bottom of his mouth to avoid scalding as a lick of flame, vibrant red and green shifting in a way only the fire of a dragon could, shot out. It caught the small stick in his hand and lit it, chewing through the wood fast enough that Taehyung had to throw it onto the fire lest his hand end up singed. The kindling caught immediately and Jungkook gasped next to him, falling back on his butt. Taehyung smirked, pride swelling in his chest as the fire sparked green and purple and red. 

“It’s so pretty,” Jungkook praised.

“All for you,” Taehyung said softly, reaching out and stroking Jungkook’s cheek. “It’s tradition to take your mate beside a bonfire made just for them. Usually it’s in front of a cave but I couldn’t find one I felt safe sleeping in with a dragon’s fire, so a camping field will have to do.”

“It’s perfect, Tae.” Jungkook moved close to him, snuggling against his neck. Taehyung’s tail thumped happily on the dirt, and he nuzzled Jungkook’s soft, floppy ear.

“Mate,” Jungkook whispered. “Do you hate me calling you that?”

“Why haven’t you before?”

Taehyung shrugged. “I didn’t want to offend you. I know a lot of people think it’s gross.”

“But I know it means something special for your species. I’m honored. Don’t stop using it, okay?”

“I won’t.” Taehyung kissed along Jungkook’s neck. “Never.” He pushed him down onto the soft blankets next to the fire and laid over him, kissing him deeply.

The kiss deepened naturally, as it tended to between the two. Taehyung slid his hand down, cupping Jungkook through his jeans. He began so squeeze and rub gently, feeling Jungkook begin to stiffen under the rough denim. 

Jungkook slid his hands down Taehyung’s hips. 

“Lemme see you,” Jungkook whined when Taehyung instinctively twitched his hips away from the hand wandering toward his crotch. “Lemme see your cock.”

Taehyung hesitated. He needed to show it one way or another, maybe it was best to get it out of the way now, so they could stop if they needed to with less damage. 

Jungkook, seeming to sense his hesitation, whined again. He spread his legs, squeezing his own cock, the outline visible in his jeans. “You’re gonna fuck me for the first time tonight,” he panted. “Bet you’ve got so much to give me. All these years just jerking off... You can’t come as well when you’re just using your hand.”

Taehyung shuddered, his tail wagging. His own cock throbbed in the confines of his jeans, the dirty talk twisting his stomach up in knots. 

Jungkook giggled. He reached out, cupping Taehyung’s thickening bulge.

“Already so big. This is what you’re gonna knot me with? Make me your mate? Ruin me for anything else?” 

Taehyung growled low in his chest. “Your ass is never gonna have anything in it except my tongue and my cock.” 

Jungkook smirked. “Oops, I broke that rule. Take off my pants and I’ll show you a present.” 

Taehyung obeyed, stripping his jeans and boxers. He gasped when Jungkook spread his legs. Peeking out of his hole was a silver anal plug, buried deep inside him. 

“I wanted you to be able to fuck me faster. It’s the biggest one I own, just a little smaller than my toy.”

Taehyung swore, tugging the silver base until Jungkook’s hole began to stretch around it and he moaned sharply. 

“Please. Lemme see it,” Jungkook begged again. 

Taehyung nodded, relenting this time. He rose and stripped down to his boxers. Jungkook sat up, pulling his remaining clothes off. He grabbed Taehyung’s boxers and tugged them off slowly. 

Taehyung’s cock sprang free, stiff with the promise of sex. It was thick and long, with a pointed tip and a flared head. Running down the shaft were thick, green oblong scales forming firm ridges and matching his facial scale color. At the base of his cock was a patch of skin, loose and moveable, but slowly filling and swelling already. 

Jungkook moaned needily, stroking the shaft. “Lemme suck it?” He begged. 

Taehyung’s mouth hung open, mostly shocked that Jungkook didn’t run at the first sight of his ugly cock. He nodded lamely. 

Jungkook went forward, easily swallowing half of his cock down. Taehyung’s hips jerked forward. He bit back a moan, his tail wagging gently.

Jungkook pulled back. “No need to go gently. I don’t have much of a reflex.” 

Taehyung nodded. He stroked Jungkook’s soft ears before using them to drag him back onto his cock. He held him still as he thrusted forward three times. Jungkook’s throat fluttered the first time, and the second he gagged softly. By the third he was relaxed, easily letting Taehyung’s cock slip down his throat. 

Taehyung couldn’t look away as he used Jungkook’s willing, warm mouth. His cock was out, it was in Jungkook in some form, yet he was unphased. His cock was still hard between his thighs, his eyes crinkled up in a smile as he swallowed around Taehyung’s cock and snuck quick breaths of air between the thrusts.

Taehyung pulled back, drawing in a shaky breath. “Gotta stop or I’m gonna come.” 

“Then it’s time,” Jungkook said eagerly. He laid down and grabbed the little black baggie nearby. He passed Taehyung the lube, relaxing. 

Taehyung took a shaky breath. He pulled the plug free, smirking at the wet pop it made.  He drove three lube slicked fingers into Jungkook’s ass. He stretched him a little more, determined to make sure this wouldn’t hurt Jungkook in any way if it could be helped. 

When he determined he was stretched enough, he withdrew his fingers, slicking up his cock instead.

“Just relax,” he said lining up his cock. Jungkook’s hole was tight around Taehyung’s cock as he nudged the tip in for the first time. He could feel Jungkook’s rapid pulse, fluttering the tight rim. Jungkook remained silent, his bottom lip between his teeth. His hands were relaxed on Taehyung’s thighs, and his cock remained hard, dribbling precome onto his smooth belly.

Slow and steady; Taehyung knew this was no challenge for Jungkook, based on that toy he’d had buried in his hole earlier in the day. The thought made a small flame of anger bubble up, and he snapped his hips forward. Jungkook’s hole was his. 

Jungkook gasped, the motion causing his tip to slide fully in, the flared head nestling tight against the rings of muscle in Jungkook’s ass. Their gazes met and Taehyung smirked.

“My little bunny boy’s no longer a virgin.”

Jungkook giggled, his folded ear twitching up.

“And I didn’t break in two. I’m still so hard,” he whined, reaching down to stroke his cock. “I need you, Taehyung.”

“You sure?” He teased, pushing forward. The ridges of his cock slid in slowly, making Jungkook whine on each one. “Maybe you’d rather your toy dragon still?”

“Never, oh!” 

His short nails bit into Taehyung’s hips when he slid another inch in, nestling the spot where his cock would swell with a knot against Jungkook’s opening.

“If I go all the way...” 

Jungkook grinned broadly. “Make me take your knot? Is it big?” 

He reached down, trying to feel for any indication of the size. Taehyung shivered, his tail giving a tentative little wag. 

“It’s about softball sized,” he panted.

Jungkook’s eyes widened. “Softball?” 

“You don’t have to take it. We can just do this.” He pulled back and slid in until he reached the swelling spot again. Jungkook moaned softly.

“No, I want it,” he panted. He spread his legs further and reached up, grabbing the firm bones at the top of Taehyung’s wings. “I know why you’re scared.”

Taehyung looked away, staring into the bonfire roaring next to them.

“Dragons — they mate for life.” 

Taehyung’s jaw twitched. He hesitated before answering. “Only in certain cases.”

Jungkook slid his hands over the soft fur covering Taehyung’s wing bones. “Your dad did. And I know there’s not many of your kind left. Dragons. Or fusions. I’ve been by your side since we were kids, Tae. You were my best friend in school, my first kiss, my first everything. I can’t imagine a future without you. I know the meaning of this. The fire, us...” Jungkook cupped Taehyung’s chin and turned his head to make him look at him. He smiled.

“This is for life.” 

Taehyung’s heart clenched at Jungkook’s words. He leaned forward, catching his mouth in a deep kiss as he pushed his hips forward, driving the last three inches deep into Jungkook. 

Jungkook shouted into his mouth, holding tight to his wings as Taehyung began to fuck him. He was aware, in the back of his mind, that he was being rough, but Jungkook was egging him on, moaning and shouting for it. His channel was hot and warm and perfect, molding itself to Taehyung’s cock as he pumped into him. 

Taehyung pulled back then and sat on the ground, his tail swiping up a dust cloud as it wagged rapidly. He pushed a finger into Jungkook’s beautifully gaped ass. 

“Come on, bunny boy,” he cooed, puffing a breath of smoke in Jungkook’s direction.

“Hop for me.”

Jungkook rolled his eyes deeply. He grinned as he did, scrambling up. Taehyung slid a hand down his back when he settled onto his lap, grabbing Jungkook’s sensitive tail. He used it to guide the younger onto his cock once more, moaning in harmony with Jungkook.

As he demanded, Jungkook began to bounce on his lap, his ass easily and eagerly taking the full length of Taehyung’s aching cock. His ears flopped as he moved, his front teeth bared as he huffed and whined, giving him quite an adorable appearance despite the fact that he was being fucked by a cock almost too big for his body.

Taehyung wrapped his arms tight around Jungkook, licking at the spot right behind his jaw that drove him crazy. His ass clenched around Taehyung, and he whimpered his name. 

“It’s starting,” Taehyung warned. He shoved forward, knocking Jungkook back onto his back on the blankets. He laid over him, huffing softly as he sped up. Jungkook hooked his legs around Taehyung’s middle, his back arching as Taehyung’s knot began to swell, catching on his rim. Taehyung could feel his body twitching, tugging, trying to adjust, but knew it was futile; once he came he’d stay buried inside his sweet lover for as long as it took, emptying himself of come and - ideally - pleasuring Jungkook until he could take no more. 

And he was well on his way it seemed. Jungkook clawed Taehyung’s back, sobbing his name.

“Please— I’m so close—“ He begged. He made an effort to grab at his cock, but Taehyung caught his wrist and pinned it, driving in particularly hard. 

“Don’t touch yourself when I’m fucking you,” he growled, a puff of smoke slipping from his nose. Jungkook’s eyes rolled back at the command. He let his legs fall open further and let out a high, needy whine. 

“Please— Taehyung,” he begged. Taehyung smirked. Jungkook had always liked being bossed around. 

“Come on my cock.”

Jungkook nodded. He began to writhe under Taehyung, meeting his thrusts. 

Taehyung knew it was coming to an end, far too soon, in his book. His balls were drawn tight, pressure building in the base of his cock and his stomach like a balloon filling with water. His knot began to swell faster and he whined.

“Jungkook—“ He knew he sounded desperate and strained... He was.

“Jungkook, please. It’s— I’ve gotta... Tell me.” He huffed, meeting Jungkook’s gaze. “Tell me if you want it or not.” 

Jungkook smiled softly then, looking surprisingly relaxed for as worked up as they both were. “I want it. I want you. Knot me. Come in me. I’m yours.” 

Taehyung roared, sounding more dragon-like than he ever had before. He tossed his head back, a burst of fire and smoke slipping from his lungs as he drove deep into Jungkook’s ass. His knot swelled to its maximum, too wide to slip free. His balls throbbed, tickled by Jungkook’s tail, as he spilled rope after rope of hot, thick come inside him. 

Under him, Jungkook screamed until his voice broke. Taehyung felt his cock jerk between their bellies, coating them both with splashes of come. He looked down, panic streaking through him when he saw tear tracks marking Jungkook’s cheeks. A second look though, and he noticed Jungkook smiling broadly. He looked up at Taehyung, his eyes wet. 

“Why are you crying?” Taehyung asked, his voice shaky as he tried to speak normally.

“You did it. You took me... I feel so good. I’m gonna come again, I—“ he gasped, screwing his eyes shut. Another tear slid down his cheek as his cock twitched and spilled, signaling a second orgasm. 

Taehyung leaned down, licking the tears from Jungkook’s cheeks. He giggled then moaned. He whined. “I can’t come again—“

Taehyung chuckled, leaning back to watch Jungkook’s cock dribble weak spurts of come.

“I’m gonna have you coming for a while,” he warned. 

Jungkook groaned, burying his face in his hands. He began to shudder softly, whining as Taehyung’s cock pulsed inside him.

Taehyung scooped him up, wiggling a little closer to the fire and wrapping his wings around him, safely cocooning Jungkook with him. 

He felt Jungkook’s tears on his shoulder even as his cock dribbled more come, shivering hard in Taehyung’s arms.

“I’m not sad—“ Jungkook panted.

“I know.”

“Just so— Ughh...” he sobbed weakly. “Overstimulated.”

“I know baby. Just let it out. So proud of you,” Taehyung cooed. His orgasm as faded, leaving behind just a pleasant tingle as his balls drained themselves inside Jungkook. He began to groom his shivering lover, nuzzling and nibbling his soft ears, scratching the sensitive skin of his lower back and tail. 

Finally, the intensity of Taehyung’s throbs decreased enough to stop steadily milking Jungkook’s prostate, allowing him to relax in Taehyung’s arms.

“How long?” He asked in a surprisingly small voice.

“Another ten or so,” Taehyung said. “Are you comfortable?”

“Sleepy.” 

Taehyung chuckled. “Wonder why. Sweet little bunny just got railed by a dragon.” 

Jungkook laughed tiredly. “Love story for the ages.”

“You can sleep though. You should sleep. I’ll be here.”

Jungkook looked up at him, smiling softly. “I love you, Taehyungie.”

“I love you too, Jungkook.” They shared a gentle kiss, and Jungkook drifted to sleep in his arms, leaving Taehyung alone with his thoughts.

They had finally made love. It was better than Taehyung had ever imagined it could be. Jungkook wasn’t scared of him – he seemed so pleasured by his cock, even though it wasn’t exactly dog, nor dragon, nor human… Their bodies just seemed to fit. And even now, as his knot softened inside Jungkook, the fear was leaving his body. Jungkook was his mate. Was the man he loved and would be with for the rest of his life. His parents – the world – they were wrong. Jungkook may have been a bunny, and he a dragon – but their hearts were human. And they were in love. 

[thewriterisalwayswrite]

One More

Summary:  Janus finds himself helping several idiots with their problems, and possibly accidentally falling for them as well.

Pairings: DLAMP

TW: Self-harm, EDs

Word count: 3264

AO3

A/N: I’ve never posted a fic to tumblr before, so let me know if I did something wrong. This is my @sanderssides-secretsanta gift to @count-woelaf. Hope you like it!

The quiet smack that came from the other side of the room as he whipped the script into the wall seemed to reverberate in his ears. Roman sunk slowly down against the wall, allowing his face to fall into his hands. 

This was the part of the theater he didn’t like. The part where he sat alone in the silent auditorium hours after the rest of the cast had left, crushing self-loathing taking over as he slipped out of character. 

Ah, if only his boyfriends were here. They were particularly good at helping him up, which usually involved spoiling him in ways he was confident he didn’t deserve. A smile graced his features at the pleasant memories, but it didn’t really help him now. Virgil, Patton and Logan had long since gone home, and here he was, likely the last person in the building, acting pathetic over nothing. 

He scrubbed at his face as he felt hot tears starting to leak out of his eyes, black makeup coming off on the sleeves of his white shirt. He sighed. Who knew if that would be coming out. 

He reached his arms up in the air, stretching out and letting out a little groan but quickly put them back down upon hearing one of the many doors creak open. He felt blood rush to his face, he was Roman Prince for goodness sake. He wasn’t supposed to be seen like this, crying in an empty theater. 

If it was possible for him to feel even worse, that was achieved when he saw who had opened the door. 

Head of hair and makeup crews for the production, half covered in burn scars, and painfully sarcastic. Roman had never been fond of the kid, and now even less so to have such a vulnerable moment intruded on. 

Roman swiped at his face one more time before donning his persona- Roman Prince. Lead of the show. Confident. Had every right to be sitting alone in the school auditorium at 10:46 PM if he so pleased. The only thing hinting that anything might have been out of the ordinary would be the dark streaks dripping down his face. “Can I help you?”

Janus’s only reaction was to raise one eyebrow. Roman scowled at him. 

Janus had to admit, this was an interaction he had never expected to be having. Roman Prince, so insistent on maintaining his clearly fabricated persona, vulnerable and crying on the ground after school. 

Not that Janus had any room to speak poorly of fabricated personas. 

He looked back at Roman, who was getting to his feet, seemingly a little wobbly. On instinct, Janus took his hand, helping him up. 

His eyes were grey. And they were much lovelier than Janus thought grey eyes had any right to be. Janus was fairly confident that the realization would have turned his face pink if not for the scarring. 

The ugly scarring, not that that was important right now. It did have its uses, though.

Roman shook his head out a little, shaking off the lingering heavy emotion and looking into Janus’s face. 

His eyes were still sad.

Janus sighed, unknowingly accepting responsibility for this boy tonight. “Did you drive here today?”

“Yes.”

Janus frowned. “Let me take you to your boyfriend’s house. You look like maybe you could use it, and you probably shouldn't be driving. You look wiped.”

Roman puffed up his chest, opening his mouth to argue before he deflated and nodded. 

Janus gave a soft smile. “Excellent. Which house did you want me to take you to?”

“Virgil?”

Janus cringed. He had… history with that boy, but he nodded. This was about Roman. He put a hand around the other’s shoulders, taking him out to the car.

When they’d arrived, Roman offered a quiet thank you, which rather surprised Janus. He felt he could count the number of times Roman had said thank you or apologized on one hand, but maybe he just… hadn’t been listening. Hadn’t been looking. 

Maybe he’d never really seen Roman before.

But then Roman closed the door, offering a little wave, and the illusion was shattered.

---

“Any particular reason our resident nerd is skipping lunch for the fourth time this week?”

Logan sighed as he turned his head away from his laptop and towards the boy who’d just slid into a seat next to him. “I have to finish this project. I would appreciate it if you could refrain from bothering me.”

Janus let out a faux-offended gasp, cementing in Logan the knowledge that his request would go unfulfilled. He sighed in annoyance as Janus tugged lightly at a few of his long braids, before spinning to face him. 

His hair is pretty.

Janus quickly banished the unwelcome thought, confused as to why he’d think something like that in the first place, but was quickly pulled back into reality by Logan’s smooth, deep voice. 

“Can I do something for you?”

“Yes. You can eat.”

“I’m not hungry. Besides, I am extremely busy.”

“That’s what you told your boys, huh? And they believed you?”

“Naturally. In our relationship, we share something called respect for boundaries. Perhaps you’ve heard of it.”

Most would have been put off by Logan’s icy tone, but Janus just ignored it and continued. Though if you asked him, he hardly could have said why. He had no reason to care whether Logan Sanders ate lunch, whether his jeans continued to get loose or if his boyfriends knew and were helping. But for some odd reason, his brain was insisting he step in. 

Logan didn’t seem to be in the stage of even realizing that a problem existed yet, but fortunately Janus had a solution. He reached into his bag, producing a plastic water bottle, which he handed off to Logan. 

Logan took it, eyed it for a moment, considering, then removed the cap and downed over half before setting it back down, raking his fingernails over the smooth plastic. 

Ah. That made sense. 

“Bad sensory day?”

There was a moment of silence, and he wondered if he’d lost Logan before he heard a soft, “It’s hard.”

Janus sighed in relief. At least he had somewhere to go if he knew the cause of the issue. “And what are your safe foods?”

Logan looked surprised for a moment that Janus knew to ask such a question, before giving a hesitant answer. “Plain noodles. Bread.” 

“Excellent.”

He opened his phone, finding the nearest place to get plain noodles and placing an order. “There, so I did that, I’m gonna go get it for you. Sit tight.”

Logan froze. “That’s… hardly necessary, Janus. I don’t expect that of you.”

“I know,” he answered, standing and leaving before Logan could try to persuade him not to. 

When he returned, noodles in hand, Logan was looking back at his computer, if not with the same intensity as before. Janus looked over his shoulder, making sure everything was saved before shutting the laptop. 

“There. Food,” he informed him, setting the hot container in Logan’s lap. Logan looked at it. 

“How much?”

“You’re not paying me back. You’re not even thinking about it. Because you’re going to put that down your throat right the fuck now.”

Logan didn’t need to be told twice, and Janus soon had a satisfied smirk on his face from how quickly Logan was eating. It barely took a few minutes for him to finish, and Janus took the plastic box, tossing it in the nearest trash. 

“And that was your first meal in how long?”

“Three days.”

“Let me rephrase. That was your first real meal in how long?”

Logan looked down, uncomfortable, before mumbling, “Nearly two weeks.”

“Mhm.”

He placed the water bottle back into Logan’s hand, who looked surprised to see it before finishing the rest and setting it down. 

Satisfied, Janus watched as Logan spun the ring on his finger, looking a little out of it. He supposed that was fine. Logan spent far too much time doing far too many things, it would be good for the guy to zone out once or twice. 

They sat in a comfortable silence until the bell rang, and Janus offered a hand, walking Logan to his next class. 

So what if that made him late for his?

---

Patton let out a quiet sigh as he poked at his left wrist, swollen red lines protesting the motion. He pulled his sleeve a bit farther up, baring more marks and noting and appreciating how the bright color looked in contrast to his pale skin. 

He smiled softly as he scratched at the scabs, opening them up a bit and getting his hands just a little sticky. He let out a gentle sigh as he leaned against the wall, once again lazily checking if there were any people nearby. He didn’t notice anyone, so he took the clear to reach into his pocket for the blade he’d stowed there. 

He couldn’t press too hard, after all, he was just standing in the cool morning air before going into the school building for class, leaning against the cold, rough brick. But he did slowly move it over his wrist, tracing patterns that just barely broke the skin, only the barest amount of blood beading up. They would still scab up, which was all he really needed. 

All he really needed was to see the red lines, put there by himself. Because he controlled what happened to his body. It was his. At least it should have been, and this was him taking it back. 

He allowed his thoughts to wander as he carved in the haphazard swirls. This was a temporary habit. Soon, his body would do what he wanted it to, it would be up to him, and he wouldn’t have to take back autonomy with blades and lighters anymore. Someday, he’d get hormones and even surgery, and he’d just live his life without thinking about throwing himself off a high place every time his binder shifted. 

Speak of the devil. He shrugged his shoulders, adjusting the restrictive fabric. It was good enough, he supposed. Kept him off the edge of suicide. 

He banished the thought from his mind, humming a calming tune as he continued to slice up his forearm. 

He should have told his boyfriends, he knew. They knew he self-harmed, and they knew he was trans, but he had a hard time telling them when he had an episode. The way Virgil would panic and demand to see, the way Logan would go cold and lecture him, the way Roman would tear up, lose his big, comforting presence and just look scared. 

He didn’t like seeing them like that, and he especially didn’t like when it was his fault. So he didn’t tell them when he did it. 

He was zoning out most of his surroundings, focusing on the sting, when he felt a light touch on his shoulder that made him jump. 

“Didn’t mean to startle you,” came a familiar buttery-smooth voice whose tone said that he didn’t care if he startled him or not. Patton sighed, dropping the blade into his pocket and dragging his sleeves down to his wrists. 

He used to be scared of Janus, a fact he wasn’t proud of. He was so aloof, like Virgil but… more so. And horrible as he knew it was, the scarring had put him off in the past. 

Fortunately, he knew better now. He no longer did a double take upon seeing his face, and once, he’d even stared at him and noted that he was- he was really lovely. 

But that didn’t matter right now.

One of Janus’s hands, clad in fingerless gloves, carefully took Patton’s hand in his, pulling the sleeve back once again. 

Patton thought briefly about stopping him, but honestly, why bother? Janus already knew, and besides, his touch was so gentle. 

Patton barely knew what was happening before something wet, cold and painful was being dragged across his arm. He let out a pitiful whimper as he pulled it back and looked up at Janus, who rolled his eyes and grabbed his arm a little more roughly. 

“It’s just an alcohol wipe. You didn’t cut too deep, but infections are never fun.”

“Oh.” Patton felt his face heat up a little from embarrassment, of what he wasn’t certain. Janus was quickly finished, though, tossing the wipe and pulling his sleeve back down over the evidence. He glanced at his phone, noting that they still had nearly fifteen minutes before the bell. 

Janus allowed a moment of silence before asking, “Do your boys know?”

Patton shrugged. “I mean, they technically know that it’s a thing that happens, but…” He trailed off, but Janus understood. 

“I see. And why don’t they?”

“Makes me uncomfortable.”

“Ah.”

Janus allowed them to fall into silence once more, before placing his hand on Patton’s shoulder again. “All they want is to help you.”

For a second he wasn’t sure Patton was going to respond at all, before he heard a faint, “I know.” He was staring intently at the ground. 

Janus had always been good at gauging situations, and this was no exception. He slowly snaked an arm around Patton’s shoulders, who let out a soft sigh. 

Janus carefully adjusted his voice to sound softer. More comforting. “Would it help if I told them for you?”

Patton didn’t look up, but he nodded. 

“Good. That’s very good, Patton. I’m proud of you.” 

Ugh. He cringed at his own words. When had he become so soft for these four? Wasn’t he supposed to be ‘cool’, or something along those lines? Hardened, at least. 

He discreetly pulled out his phone, shooting a message to the other three boys, the ones he’d grown too fond of for his own good. 

The responses were immediate, and upon being informed of their location, he carefully led Patton away. It was early in the morning, but Patton looked so, so drained.

It wasn’t long before he reached them. Roman and Logan, and thank goodness, no Virgil. Virgil was not fond of him. The two that were there looked really concerned. 

Janus, surprisingly enough, found himself reluctant to hand off Patton. 

Damn it. I’ve grown protective. 

Then again, it was practically impossible to see Patton vulnerable and not become attached and fiercely protective. No wonder he was dating three amazing guys. 

Janus assured himself that Patton had what he needed, and in an amazing show of self-control, gave Patton a gentle push towards the other two. 

He quickly latched onto Roman, already crying softly. Janus watched as Roman rubbed Patton’s back and stroked his fingers through his hair. He knew he shouldn’t be watching, that he should go, but Roman lifted his head and mouthed, “Thank you.”

Janus felt heat creeping into his cheeks, so he offered a signature finger-wave and turned on his heel, only to realize after he was out of their sight that his class was on the other side of the school. 

---

Virgil sighed, running his fingers through his hair as he finally exited the school building, blinking in confusion upon finding it dark. He hadn’t been that long, had he? Only had to retake an exam he’d done poorly on, and though algebra wasn’t his best subject, he’d thought he shouldn’t need more than an hour or two. 

He opened up his phone, obviously the first people he messaged were his boyfriends. He didn’t have a ride, and his father wouldn’t come for him this late.

Unfortunately, they weren’t available. Any of them. Unfortunate, but not the end of the world. He could always try Remy. 

Who was busy. 

Or Emile.

Who didn’t reply. 

He didn’t like Roman’s brother, but he was running out of options. Unfortunately, Remus couldn’t come either. 

Virgil glared angrily at his screen as he realized who he needed to ask. 

Slowly, he managed to convince himself to send a concise text. He had an answer not two minutes later.

“I’ll be there.”

He sighed, whether in relief or in fear he wasn’t certain.

The car pulled up shortly after, and Virgil let himself in. Janus drove away quickly, seemingly as ready as Virgil was for this drive to be over. 

They sat in a painful silence for a few minutes, Janus breaking it before immediately cringing at himself. 

“I like the purple.”

Virgil’s hand automatically moved to his hair, as he touched the newly dyed locks. “Thanks.”

The two lapsed back into silence. 

“Left here, right?”

“Yep.”

Virgil was a little surprised that Janus still remembered the drive. It had been awhile. 

They waited again, the quiet deafening. Janus finally pulled up to Virgil’s driveway, waiting for him to get out.

Virgil hesitated. 

“I missed you.”

Janus’s head snapped towards, Virgil, confusion and terrified hope. 

“It was a long time ago. I don’t hate you. Thanks for the ride.” he quickly got out, the breath of cold air assaulting Janus, but he ignored it as the door clicked shut.

Janus did not drive away for a very long time. 

---

It was Logan who reached out to him first. 

It had been a few days since his last interaction with any of the four, but oddly enough, Logan invited him to lunch.

He had half a mind to decline. Show them how much he cared. He didn’t want to sit through an awkward lunch, fifth-wheeling to boys he didn’t want to admit he cared for. 

Of course, his fingers did not listen and he ended up replying with an acceptance. 

Damn his fingers. Always knowing his true intentions. 

He frowned at the building, the restaurant he was meant to be meeting them in. 

His hands had never been this clammy before. Even when shamelessly flirting, he was usually able to keep his composure. But something about Logan, Roman, Patton and Virgil had him nervous. 

He finally managed to exit his car, entering the building and finding them, sliding into a seat. They were all already there. He gave a little wave. His face was burning, but at least they couldn’t see it. 

Roman gave him a big smile, one that looked more nervous than Janus had ever seen it, and Logan and Patton both offered a greeting. Then Logan asked some superficial question, and they fell into small talk. Which, oddly enough, Janus didn’t feel excluded from. This, oddly enough, didn’t at all feel like intruding on a relationship. Confusing.

His confusion was resolved several minutes later when Patton coughed and nudged Logan expectantly, who turned to Janus. 

Janus didn’t think he’d ever seen Logan look anxious before, but he did. They all did, and it was scaring him. 

“We, um- we had something to ask you.”

Janus nodded. 

“You wanna date us?”

The slightly more brash question came from Roman. Of course. 

Janus froze. “I, um, I…” His hand flew up to the scarred side of his face, almost on reflex. Patton gave a soft smile, placing his hand over Janus’s. 

“We like you, J. A lot. Every part of you. So what do you say?”

“I…” This had to be the first time he’d lost his perfectly constructed composure.

The answer was on the tip of his tongue. He glanced over at Virgil.

Virgil gave a tiny nod, and that was it. 

Janus frantically wiped at the tears that seemed to be coming without his permission as he nodded his head. 

“Yes, I...yes.”

When he looked back up at them, they were all smiling at him like he’d hung the stars.

[muwi-translates]

Otomate Party 2019 Collar x Malice Drama “Reverse reality”

Short drama featured in Otopa 2019, this was also shown in the 2020 Otomate New Title Party livestream. 

HEAVY BASE GAME SPOILERS. There’s also some minor spoilers AND a CG spoiler for -Unlimited-. Either way, don’t read this if you have not finished the first game.

Highly recommend that you watch while you read, it will 100% enhance the experience. It’s also because there are some ad-libs that are better experienced while you can see the voice actors and be able to hear the crowd. Here is a timestamped link to the section (if it doesn’t jump there, it starts at 15:23)

**Please don’t move this translation or claim it as your own.**

---

Yanagi: 20XX, December. Vicious events that have been committed in succession have disrupted social order. Known as the X-Day Incidents, we, who were former police officers, have been investigating--

Okazaki: Aha, wait, Yanagi-san~

Yanagi: Okazaki…Don’t interrupt others when they’re starting their monologue.

Okazaki: Sorry, but this time it doesn’t look like we need a very serious atmosphere.

Yanagi: What did you say?

Okazaki: The title seems to be wrong, it’s actually this:

[Title: It was just a dream]

Yanagi: What?

Okazaki: Shall I give you a summary then?

Okazaki: On a day in 20XX, a party was being held in a corner of Shinjuku. Thanks to the magic of Otopa (Otomate Party), in a place where time and space become twisted, a group of people who normally cannot meet have gathered…

---

Yanagi: An izakaya… no, I really don’t understand what’s—

Shiraishi: If it were just Yanagi-kun, Okazaki-kun and I… 

Saeki: I feel like I’m intruding, sorry about that.

Mikuni: There should be no need to apologise. We were also forcibly brought here when we were busy.

Okazaki: Soooo… I believe that one is Ichika-chan’s co-worker from the police station, Saeki-kun, right?

Saeki: Yup.

Okazaki: And that one is the politician Mikuni-san?

Mikuni: Yes. I also know who you are very well. You’re the people from the detective agency who are investigating the X-Day incidents by yourselves. Since you’ve also been investigating the identity of the mastermind of Adonis, you must have discovered our involvement by now.

Yanagi: Hmph. Not gonna bother to hide it? Should I treat this as your confession?

Shiraishi: Hey, Yanagi-kun, you don’t have to think that much this time. All that about the incidents, arrests, they all don’t exist~

Yanagi: Excuse me?

Saeki: Ah, they told me before I came here, Today, let’s just throw away all that messy stuff from the main story. We can’t go dropping spoilers, yeah?

Okazaki: Haha, yup, it’s Otomate Party, after all.

Saeki: Yup, hehe~

Okazaki: So that means that it’s Saeki-kun and Mikuni-san’s first time meeting us, isn’t it?

Saeki: Ah, I know Shiraishi-san since he’s pretty famous in the Shinjuku station… but that’s about it.

Shiraishi: Ahaha… Mikuni-san, this should be fine, yes?

Mikuni: Are you trying to say that I should pretend I don’t know you, Num—

Shiraishi: Waitwaitwait… If you say it then what’s the point?

Yanagi: …Not enough...

Okazaki: Hm? Yanagi-kun, what’s wrong?

Shiraishi: Is there something wrong with your account book?

Yanagi: ...Not enough of Enomoto’s complaints...

Okazaki: Ah…. mm…. We do have a serious shortage of complaining.

Yanagi: Whatever. I can call you Mikuni, right?

Mikuni: Yes, even though I didn’t allow you to call me by name. The only one who has permission to do so is--

Shiraishi: S-S-Stop, didn’t we just say not to talk about the personal identity of that person today?

Yanagi: I can’t believe it… that Shiraishi’s thinking of other people?

Okazaki: Wait a second, Saeki-kun’s being left behind. I’m sorry, making you feel uncomfortable.

Saeki: It’s no problem, but… maybe I’m not meant to be here? You’re all important characters in the main story. I’m probably the youngest character amongst everyone here. Plus I’m just the friend of the protagonist.

Okazaki: What’s up with the weird reaction from the audience?

Saeki: You must be mistaken!

Okazaki: I must be! Haha~

Saeki: Hahaha

Okazaki: Ah, now that I remember, I’m so jealous you’re Ichika-chan’s coworker. I heard you two go out drinking together a lot.

Yanagi: That’s right, Saeki’s the only one who knows Hoshino well here.

Shiraishi: She’s still cautious with us, so I’m very interested in what kind of person she is.

Saeki: He~eh, Hosino’s pretty popular. But all I know is that she’s a really normal person. She’s always doing her best, and straightforwardly. Sometimes she can be discouraged and be in low spirits, but when she’s angry, she can be really scary. Ah! And when she gets drunk, she laughs a lot and gets really passionate when she talks to me.

Mikuni: …Is that it?

Saeki: Hm?

Mikuni: If Ichika Hoshino is as normal as you say then I believe she should not have been chosen by Adonis.

Yanagi: Oi, Mikuni, what do you mean?

Saeki: Oh… I don’t know how Adonis thinks, but I think she’s strong because she’s normal.

Mikuni: I don’t understand, even if I do want to, since she holds the key to us.

Saeki: Ahaha, to a brilliant politician like you, our worlds are completely different.

Shiraishi: ...Sorry, I can’t stand this anymore.

Yanagi: I can’t believe it… that Shiraishi’s losing his cool!

Okazaki: Truly a rare sight to behold.

Okazaki: That said, we’re in front of a gathering of girls, we shouldn’t be this aggressive. If our goal is to become friends, why don’t we play a game?

Shiraishi: Do you mean the friendship games that Okazaki-kun and Mineo-kun always play?

Yanagi: Those? It’s going to get more chaotic if so many people start drinking tequila. 

Okazaki: Then what about a ‘revelation game’? We’ll reveal our true thoughts on the subject written on the back of these cards. And you have to answer the question no matter what it is.

Saeki: Oh, I like it! I’d be happy to get to know everyone better.

Mikuni: It’s of no loss to me if I get information from you.

Shiraishi: Then let’s go clockwise from Yanagi-kun.

Yanagi: Why do I have to go first? Nothing I can do about it-- IT’S MY TURN.

[Card: What kind of gestures do you like in a woman?]

Yanagi: Gestures? I haven’t really thought about it, something like tying long hair into a bun, I guess?

Saeki: Ah, I get that! It looks really nice when they’re wearing a yukata.

Shiraishi: Really? Should I tie my hair like that?

Yanagi: I didn’t ask.

Mikuni: I see. I’ll add this to the data we have on Aiji Yanagi.

Yanagi: I. Didn’t. Ask.

Okazaki: Then it’s my turn next. What’ll it be~?

[Card: What’s something you want a woman to say to you?]

Yanagi: Is this really about friendship?

Okazaki: Hm… I can feel the coercive energy of Otopa… it’s like... a heavy pressure.

Saeki: Okazaki-san looks like he’s pretty popular. I wanna learn from you.

Okazaki: Haha, you sound like Mineo-kun. Words I want to hear from a woman… Yanagi-san, it’s better to give a more restrained answer, right?

Yanagi: Yeah, it might be bad if you’re too careless, ah, but there’s still a chance. I’d rather you say something that can be visualised, it’s okay if you say something that can’t. Anyway, I’m leaving it up to you.

Okazaki: I’m just going to follow what’s in the script, then.

Okazaki: The golden phrase “I don’t want to go back”. If she said it like that, it would be impossible not to want her.

Shiraishi: I don’t get it, what kind of situation wouldn’t let her go home? Does she work at a bad company?

Mikuni: Perhaps her family situation is complicated?

Saeki: Uh, are you two really fully-grown men?

Yanagi: ...Enomoto… come here quickly… I’ll even take Namikawa (Daisuke)!

Shiraishi: It’s my turn next, right?

[Card: What kind of food do you want a woman to make for you?]

Shiraishi: Hm. Nothing in particular. I could just make it myself.

Okazaki: So dreamless! Shiraishi-san, you always eat such dull things. Don’t you ever crave some homemade food?

Shiraishi: Then Yanagi-kun will make something for me, so no.

Yanagi: Oi, I’m not your mother.

Mikuni: So Aiji Yanagi has the ability to win people’s hearts with good food. This cannot be underestimated.

Shiraishi: No matter how you say it, home made food is--

Saeki: [Slams his cup down] No! There’s stuff like meat and potato stew! And karage! That’s romantic!

Okazaki: Oh… Saeki-kun’s drunk. When did he drink that much?

Saeki: Pfft- I ain’t drunk! The night’s still young~!

Yanagi: The alcohol’s gone to his head, here, drink some water.

Mikuni: It might be better to lie down, come over here…

Saeki: Nuh-uh. I wanna play… the revelation game!!!

[Card: What’s your type of woman?]

Saeki: Ooh! My type of woman… let me think. Of course, she’s gotta be cute… has style, she’s good at cooking. Someone who’s usually honest, but sticks to their beliefs… and responsible with work.

Shiraishi: So someone who’s similar to you? Or someone who has the same type of thinking as you?

Okazaki: Also… this… sounds similar to Ichika-chan.

Saeki: Hm? Nah, we’re not like that--

Mikuni: --Enough. I should be going back soon.

Yanagi: Oi, what’s with you all of a sudden--

Okazaki: Ah… my vision… it’s weird… Yanagi-san...

Yanagi: What’s going on… this sound…

Shiraishi: Ah, is it over already?

Mikuni: We have fully obtained the information required for analysis. You must be satisfied too?

Okazaki: What… it hurts…--

---

Okazaki: *gasps* Huh? ...A dream? My bad, did I wake you up? No, I’m okay. I just had a weird dream. Good morning. Is your body okay? Last night I went too-- ah! Hehe, so cute~

I didn’t forget. Our promise that we were going on a date today. But I just want to hold you all the time, because you’re too cute. So cute it’s trouble.

If I kissed you like this outside you’d get angry at me, right? So… can you let me keep you all to myself just for a little longer?

---

Shiraishi: Hm? Was I asleep? I was reading to the children… it looks like I fell asleep when we were together. Eh? You were looking at my sleeping face? What’s that about, so unfair. You know I wanted to see yours too. I’ll see it someday. That’s right, there’s still ‘someday’ after this…

I still think it’s strange even now. If I hadn’t met you, I wouldn’t know that the sun was this warm, or that the breeze is so pleasant. Just holding hands with you makes my chest hurt. Even though I still have to make you feel lonely for a little while longer, don’t worry. Because we’re connected under the same sky.

---

Mikuni: Ah, it’s you. Are you reporting something for work? My complexion is bad? No… I just had a strange dream. How rare for you to worry about me. I know, this is just superficial rhetoric used by subordinates. However, after talking with you over these past few days, the way I deal with people seems to have changed.

I… quite clearly think that you are annoying, but I do not hate you. Even in a hell like this, the light in your eyes has not disappeared. It seems that I am drawn to your strength. 

No… forget what I said. That was just a joke that will disappear one day like illusions.

---

Saeki: Ah, sorry, I was just a little dazed. ...Careful! Almost dropped the crepe. It’s already sunset, after we finish, we should go. 

…! Don’t make that kind of expression. Hey, Hoshino. I know you’re at your wit’s end trying to figure out what path you want to take. You must have already decided in your heart, right? 

I see… I’ll always support you no matter what decision you make. And… I’ll resist like you are until the very end, if this is the ‘justice’ you believe in.

It’s sad, but let’s finish our date here today. Hey, will you go on another with me? 

Haha, how cold… I still want to be with you like this. That’s why, see you again.

---

Yanagi: ...It’s still night.... You’re awake? I sounded like I was in pain? ...I made you worry. It’s okay, it wasn’t the dream I usually have. ...It wasn’t the same, but I guess it was still a nightmare. 

Can I hold you? It’s not that I feel uneasy. It’s just that I can feel peaceful when I can feel you next to me. As long as you’re smiling next to me, I can push away any nightmare no matter what it’s about. And I can believe that I can welcome the dawn the next day.

We have the day off today, don’t we? Let’s go somewhere. I want to walk with you, through the streets of the Shinjuku I love.

[cpd5021]

Temporary Promotions

Happy Thursday! Coming at you with some more smut prompted by the loving members of the Upstead group chat. Plot? What plot? Who needs that?! Rated M.

“Halstead, you have a minute?” 

Voights gravelly voice reached my desk, causing me to look up and nod. I closed out of my computer and headed into his office. He motioned for me to shut the door and I took a breath, unsure of what was going to come next. I sat down and sent him a questioning look as I waited for him to tell me why I was here. His eye’s bore into me and I could feel heat creeping up my neck. I was almost certain I hadn’t done anything to land myself in hot water, but something about the way he was looking at me was making me question that. He let the silence hang between us until I was completely uncomfortable, something I assumed was deliberate, before he began. 

“This,” He motioned around his office with a wave of his hand. “Will all be yours someday.”

His tone was matter of fact and I scrambled to process his statement, of all the things I was expecting him to say that hadn’t even remotely been on my list. He let the silence return and all I could do was stare at him, wondering what had prompted this conversation. He leaned back in his chair, looking as if he didn’t have a care in the world, as I sat upright in my seat, doing everything in my power not to squirm under his stare. Finally, I couldn’t take it anymore and broke the silence. 

“Sir..”

I trailed off, not sure what to say in this situation. He leaned forward then, seemingly satisfied with the torture I had just endured and sent me a small smile. 

“I have to go to New York, help them with a case. I’ll be taking Burgess with me. I need someone to run this unit while I’m gone for the next two weeks. You up for that?” 

I swallowed hard, my eyebrows shooting up in surprise. Sure I had run point on a lot of the cases we worked, and there had plenty of days Voight hadn’t been in. But something about the way he asked me to do this, run the unit for two weeks, it felt as if this was some sort of test. After a moment, I realized I hadn’t replied yet and eagerly nodded in his direction. 

“Absolutely.”

I replied, still nodding. He seemed satisfied with my answer and stood from his desk. I watched as he pulled a few things from his desk drawer and tucked them into his pocket. 

“Good. I’ll be headed out early today to meet with the uniforms at the Ivory Tower and get everything in place. Our flight leaves tomorrow. I’ll keep in touch the best I can, but I’ll trust you’ll be just fine. Feel free to use the office if you need the space to get away from them for a bit.”

He finished his statement, nodding towards the bullpen where the rest of the unit sat. He tossed me a set of keys, presumably to the office door, and motioned for us to head out. I followed behind him, stopping abruptly when he froze just outside the doorway. 

“Listen up, Burgess and I are going to New York for the next two weeks. You’ll be reporting to Halstead until I return. I trust you’re in good hands.”

Everyone sent me a smile, Adam even letting out a small cheer and clapping obnoxiously from his desk. I rubbed the back of my neck awkwardly, still processing what had just happened. Voight turned back to face me, giving me one more hopeful smile before stalking out of the bull pen and down the stairs. I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding and made to sit back at my desk. I glanced over at Hailey, who’s eyes had been locked onto me since the moment Voight started speaking. I gave her a shrug and a sheepish smile, still thrown off by my conversation with Voight. She sent me a grin before her head dipped down, looking at something on her desk. 

So, large and in charge huh?

My phone buzzed on my desk and I looked over to see the message from Hailey lighting up my screen. I picked it up, quickly typing out my reply. 

It’s not a big deal, probably just more of a formality. 

I tried to blow it off, unable to shake the feeling that this was some sort of test. I didn’t know if that’s what Voight intended or if I was just creating unnecessary pressure on myself. My phone buzzed again, pulling me from my thoughts. 

Sure. Gonna be a long two weeks, I’m pretty sure there’s a rule about sleeping with your subordinates. 

My head snapped up as soon as I read her message. She gave me a mischievous smirk before averting her eyes back to her desk. 

Not gonna happen… I won’t survive.

I watched as she read my text, a small smile forming on her face. 

Sorry, I don’t make the rules. ;)

 I hoped she was teasing, but I also had a bad feeling she wasn’t. It was going to be a long two weeks indeed. 

************

The first few days went off without a hitch. I hadn’t really had to do anything that I normally wouldn’t do, aside from dishing out some delegation as we worked an easy case. But now, I sat at my desk rereading an email I had just received from the higher ups requesting some forms Hank hadn’t sent in yet. Forms that were in his office, somewhere I hadn’t ventured into yet. I had been in there plenty of times with Voight, but something about going in without him here made it feel like an invasion of privacy, despite the fact he had given me the keys. I looked up to see Hailey walking towards my desk, a puzzled look on her face. 

“You look concerned. Everything okay?”

She asked, moving to sit on the edge of my desk. Her proximity brought with it the smell of her shampoo drifting into my nose and I looked up at her with wanton eyes. So far, she had held firm to her rule of not sleeping together, not for my lack of trying. I motioned towards my screen, trying to focus my attention elsewhere, and let out a sigh. 

“They need me to send some forms over to the Ivory Tower.”

I looked up at her again, the puzzled look increasing. 

“And…” 

She trailed off, not catching on to why I was so hesitant. 

“And….they’re in there.”

I pointed towards Voights office. With it’s door shut, blinds closed and lights off, the small room seemed oddly forbidden. She let out a laugh when she saw where I was pointing. 

“That’s what you’re worried about? Didn’t he give you the keys?” 

She laughed again when I scoffed at her questions. 

“Yeah but...shut up!”

I told her as she continued to chuckle at my dilemma. My words only caused her to enjoy this situation more. 

“So why are you worried about going in? It’s not like you’re breaking in…”

She finally managed to compose herself as I continued to scowl at her. 

“I don’t know...It just feels off limits. Like going into your parents bedroom or something.”

Hailey laughed again and I let out a huff. I’m glad she was enjoying this so much, maybe I should delegate the task to her. 

“Jay, you’re being ridiculous! It’s not like you’re going in there to have sex or something.”

Her voice dropped tantalizingly low as she said the last part of her sentence, eliciting an immediate reaction from my body that I struggled to stop in its tracks. I looked up at her, eyes bugged out slightly as she met my stare with a teasing look. She sent me a wink, which did nothing to help my situation, and stood from my desk. 

“Come on, I’ll go with you.”

She rolled her eyes before reaching a hand out to pull me up. I should have known it was a bad idea to let her come in with me, given her mischievous tone, but I didn’t catch it in time. I pulled the keys out of my pocket and unlocked the door, stepping into the darkness and running my hand along the wall for the light switch. She followed me in, pushing the door shut behind us. I found the light and then made my way over to Voights desk, standing awkwardly still as I took in the contents atop his desk. I didn’t see the forms I needed, which meant they were in one of the drawers, making this situation worse. Hailey, who had been lingering by the door, watching me scan the desk, let out a huff and came to stand in front of me. She slipped herself between me and the desk, with her back to me her hair was right under my nose and the scent of her shampoo reached my nose again, igniting my senses. Before I could realize what her plan was, she was bending over in front of me, her butt rubbing right up against my crotch and immediately causing the fabric there to tighten. I clenched my hands by my sides, fighting the urge to grab ahold of her hips, the thought only increasing the issues in my jeans. She feigned looking for the paperwork a little longer than necessary, never breaking contact with me. I knew at this point she could feel exactly what she was doing to me, but the more obvious it became the more she seemed spurred on. Eventually, she grabbed the paperwork that had been laying on top of the pile within the drawer and stood, finally relieving the pressure against me, although the damage was already done. She turned to face me, a devilish glint in her eyes and whipped the paper up between us, pressing it into my chest with a smirk. I swallowed hard, struggling to gain control of myself and this situation. Hailey stood up on her tiptoes, bringing her lips to brush against mine as she spoke. 

“Glad I could be of assistance.”

She pressed her lips against mine and then stepped back, leaving a whirl of cool air in her wake. Now my issue was very much a problem and I wasn’t sure how I was ever going to be able to leave this office. She stepped over to the door, turning to give me another wink and then slipped out of the door, pulling it shut behind her. 

********

Somehow, I managed to make it through the rest of the two week stint without issue. Today was my last day in charge as Voight would be back on Monday. Hailey, aside from the insane amount of teasing she had been putting me through this entire time, had held true to her rule of no sex. I was literally dying at this point and her suggestive texts all day hadn’t helped. Naturally, we would have caught a case on my last day that required lots of paperwork to be submitted and evidence to be logged. Two hours after what should have been the end of their day, I sent everyone home and told them I would finish up. There wasn’t much to do at this point and I could see they were all worn out from the long day. They happily obliged, giving me feigned protests that they could stay before everyone bolted out of the bullpen. Hailey said she was going to stay to finish up her report, not unusual for her as she wasn’t one to let unfinished work linger over the weekend. We each sat at our respective desks, only the sound of our typing filling the room. Finally I was done, with my last task being to leave some of our reports on Voights desk. I glanced up to see Hailey had finished as well. She was leaning back in her chair in a stretch that had her shirt lifting just enough so I could see the toned skin of her stomach above her jeans. I stood, giving my own stretch, before making my way over to Voights door. I unlocked it, turning back to meet her eyes and dipped inside. She followed me, of course she would, and leaned against the door well as I filed our reports into Voights desk. I looked up and saw her biting at her lower lip, the sight instantly igniting a fire within me. 

“Hey, can you help me with this?”

I asked, pretending to struggle with the drawer. She nodded and came over to stand beside me. Before she could stop me, I grabbed her arm and gently spun her around to face me. My hands moved up to cup her face and I brought my mouth to hers. Hailey responded instantly, moving her lips against mine, deepening the kiss by slipping her tongue into my mouth. I drew her lip between my teeth, giving it a gentle nip and causing her to moan into my mouth. I slid my hands down to her waist, pulling her against me so she could feel my excitement growing. Her arms wrapped around my neck, pulling me down to deepen the kiss again. I made her take a step back so that she rested against the edge of his desk, eliciting another moan when I pressed my hips into her again. We continued our heated kiss until we both needed to come up for air. 

“Jay…” 

Her voice was low and hoarse from our kiss, causing my excitement to become even more obvious. 

“All I have been thinking about, for the last two weeks, is sex with you. How much I miss you, how much I need you…” 

I accentuated each word with a kiss along her jawline, her nails dragging down my back as I spoke. 

“Let’s go home.”

She breathed out, moaning again when I nipped just below her ear. 

“I can’t wait that long…”

I mumbled against her neck, leaving a trail of kisses down her warm skin. 

“Okay then, at least the truck…”

She countered, squirming as my hands gripped her thighs from behind, another sensitive area I knew drove her wild. 

“Still too long…”

I told her, bringing my hands to the front of her jeans. I popped her button and pulled her zipper down before she tried to swat my hand away. 

“Jay!” She exclaimed, eyes bugging out as she looked at me in shock. 

“Come on, we’ll be quick.”

I kissed her again, slipping my hand into her jeans and teasing her through her wet underwear. I knew she wanted to protest but I also knew I was making a pretty good argument. I slid one knee between her legs, causing them to fall apart and giving me a better angle. She gripped my neck again, holding herself up as I slipped my fingers around the fabric and slid into her. She let out a breathy moan as I set a fast pace. I felt her hips begin to thrust up into my hand and I could tell she was getting close. I nipped at her neck again, the sweat spot just below her ear and felt her walls clench around my fingers. 

“Oh fuck...Jay….” 

She panted out as her body came apart. I pressed my lips against hers, muffling the loud moan I knew was coming as she fell over the edge. She whimpered against my mouth as I continued to work her until she came back down. I pulled back to look at her eyes then, seeing a fire burning within them. She looked around the room, looking for somewhere to move this too and I knew she was craving the same thing I was. I pulled my hand out of her jeans, gasping when her fingers made quick work of mine. In a matter of seconds, she had my erection freed and was expertly working her hands up and down my length. She knelt down in front of me and I damn near came right there as I knew what was coming next. I gripped the desk, my hips jerking when her hot mouth swallowed my length. She worked magic on me, setting just the right rhythm and I knew it wasn’t going to be long for me. I tugged at her ponytail, causing her to break the contact and sliding me out of her mouth with a pop. She stood then, face flushed and eyes mirroring mine. I glanced around the room again, desperate for somewhere to finish this. My eyes settled on Voights desk and then quickly glanced to meet Hialey’s eyes. She sent me a look as if to tell me this was a bad idea, but before she could voice her concern I shoved the contents of his desk onto the floor. I looked back at her to see her eyes wide and mouth hanging open. I reached over, taking her arm gently and leading her towards the desk. I bent down, effortlessly lifting her onto the surface and then tugged her jeans down the rest of the way. Hailey leaned back on her elbows, her head falling back as I effortlessly slid into her warmth, the feeling alone making me almost lose it. I set a steady pace, trying to drag this out a little longer but her moans were letting me know she was close too. I moved my hand between us, the other gripping her hip bone to hold her steady, and used my thumb to rub circles over her throbbing bundle. Her walls trembled around me and soon she was panting again. All at once, her back arched and her walls clenched around me, milking my own release as I tumbled over the edge right after her. 

“Fuck…” 

She moaned loudly, unable to control herself. The sound had me repeating her sentiment as we each rode out our high. Once finished, I slid out of her and pulled her up into a sitting position. Her head fell against my chest as we worked to slow our breathing. After a while, we cleaned ourselves up as best we could before working to return Voights desk to normal. Maybe being in charge wouldn’t be so bad after all. 

[captainjimothycarter]

Prompt: Peggy is sick (like, cold... nothing serious) and hates being taken care of, but Steve isn't going to let her suffer alone.

SOFT. This should be 40s AU but I suck at medical from the 40s. So hello modern, no-powers AU.

--

Peggy Carter hated, more than anything in life was to be sick. She was not a good patient, she was miserable when sick. She mostly hated when people doted after her like she was some weak, helpless person.

She wasn’t. She was just sick.

And right now, she was miserable. She couldn’t breathe out her left nostril while her right nostril wheezed every time she attempted. Her throat felt raw and aching and worst of all, she couldn’t get enough to drink. Top it off, her body was trying to decide if she should have a fever on top of all of this or not.

The knocking at her apartment door made her groan, only because dragging herself to her feet and stumbling to the door. She almost fell when it opened by itself, another groan dragging from her lips when she saw who was it.

Steve. Of course her hot, new neighbor, and landlord of the apartments. 

“I’m sorry,” Steve flinched when she almost fell, lowering the plastic bag he had in hand. “When you didn’t answer, I was just going to drop this off inside the door, I promise.”

Peggy wanted to get mad, wanted to throw a fit and demand that Steve at least tell her he was coming by or give her some warning about how he was going to invade her privacy, but then it struck her. He probably had and she’d been non the wiser with her phone currently off to avoid people from work blowing her up about a new patient.

So she couldn’t get mad even if she wanted to. 

“I didn’t think you were that type,” she mumbled, speaking out of her nose and no louder than a whisper given her situation. “To invade other’s privacy, I mean.” She could see just how awkward this 6’0, 240-pound man was, looking impossibly small somehow in her doorway.

“No, no I’m not. I grew up with landlords like that and I fuckin’ hated it.” In fact, Peggy got the impression he hated being a landlord too. His biggest passion seemed to be the pastries and sweets he brought around every Friday. 

It’s why rent was so cheap and everyone was lovely taken care of, every little need met. He normally catered to those struggling, Steve told her once when they were walking from apartment to apartment to see which one she liked. He catered to the elderly who could barely get up somedays or to the single moms and those on hard times, and especially veterans. Why the hell she was picked as a tenant, she had no idea. She was none of those things and quite frankly, she was almost afraid to ask.

“What’s in the bag?” Peggy asked, the question coming out nasally. Even Steve flinched.

“Oh, uh, chicken noodle soup courtesy of my ma. She was the blonde lady you spoke to the other day when you dropped off the rest.” Steve’s face flushed a shade of pink and shrugged his impossibly big shoulders. “She said you sounded sick and made this. Guess she was right.”

Peggy’s tongue darted out to lick her dry lips. The smell of the broth made her stomach grumble, becoming fully aware that she hadn’t eaten in forever. She could remember Steve’s ma, almost a spitting image of her with the hair and eyes, even the same freckled nose.

“Do you want to...come in?” Her head jerked and Peggy regretted that action, nearly stumbling back if it wasn’t for Steve’s arm reaching out to prevent her from making contact with the coat rack. 

“Sure.” He paused, looking her up and down. Her nose was a bright shade of red and her eyes rimmed red like she’s been rubbing at them. She curled in on herself, like trying to huddle in all her warmth. She didn’t wear her normal poised clothes, instead of pajamas and a housecoat. 

“You really are sick,” he breathed. “Jesus. How long have you been in here?”

“Three days. I hated calling out of work, but I can’t even smell, and believe it or not that’s a big part of my job.”

Steve lead her over to the couch and tucked her into the cushions, picking up a thick blanket to wrap around her. He turned the heater off and instead turned to the fireplace to get a roaring fire going. The windows were cracked to let in some fresh air. 

He paused at her description, still kneeling by the fireplace with tender in hand. “Part of your job as a veterinarian is to smell the animals?” 

His laugh made Peggy’s heart flutter. The way he laughed, he looked so carefree and warm. Like she wanted to bury herself in his chest and listen to his heart beating. “It is, if I can’t smell then I might miss a key factor as to how they’re sick. Plus, I can barely see straight.”

Steve’s tongue clicked on the roof of his mouth, nodding his head. “You do look terrible.”

“Anyone ever tells you that you suck at talking to women, Rogers?” 

Steve smiled, giving a shrug of his shoulders. “Sometimes. You stay there, I’ll get you tea and soup heated up.”

By the time he was back with a tray full of crackers, soup, and tea, Peggy was properly dozing on the couch. Setting the tray down, he knelt down by Peggy’s side and used a cool rag to press to her forehead, glad to see that she wasn’t so hot. Maybe the fever had broken.

When her beautiful eyes opened, Steve’s smile only grew. This close, Peggy could count his lashes. Oh, he had such pretty eyes, flecks of green inside of a chamber of blue.

“Hi,” she breathed, fully aware right now that she hadn’t been able to brush her teeth for two days due to gagging and the mouth wash wasn’t helping her sick breath.

“Hi,” he breathed in return, reaching out to tuck a strand of hair behind her head. “Soups heated up. C’mon, ma’s cure-all.”

It took some maneuvering to get her to sit up, involving having to lean into Steve’s chest because all energy had escaped her. He had to feed her and Peggy wanted to be frustrated at this, but all she could think about was being pressed into his warm body and thinking how nice this was.

The soup was wonderful, even with hints of ginger and pepper burning her throat. It was a pleasant burn and almost washed away the achingness. The chicken was tender and the noodles perfectly cooked, even Peggy, whose not a snob over food, had to admit it was a wonderful meal.

Steve seemed pleased that she finished half the bowl at least before calling it quits, setting the tray aside. He seemed to get ready to get up but she leaned back into him and this close, Steve smelled that sickness that settled when someone was sweating a fever out.

“Have you showered?” He asked, attempting to be nonchalant, but going by Peggy’s snort, it was anything, but.

“Again, terrible at talking to women.” Her head leaned back and she breathed out a long, aching sigh. “And no, I haven’t been able to get myself off of this couch beyond the kitchen and the bathroom. A bath seems like too much.”

“I think it’ll do you good, so will sleep in a proper bed, not the couch. C’mon, I’ll run you a bath.” 

Before Peggy could protest about how her landlord was going to see her naked, Steve was gone. She could hear him upstairs and the sound of water running. When he came back down, his shirt soaked to the point she could see the abs through the white material.

Oh, that was a nice sight.

“Are you going to strip me?” She teased after Steve had slowly helped her up the stairs, a hand on her lower back to keep her steady after she refused to be carried. 

“I-no-but-you.” Steve was fully aware his face was flushing a bright red, feeling how warm he was.

Peggy was rewarded with the sight of his neck turning a shade of red. He was a full-body blusher then. “I was teasing. I can strip. Just...be here to help me out if I fall? I’ll call you when I’m done.”

Steve stayed outside her closed bathroom door, the floorboard creaking under his feet as he teeter tottered, listening to her heavy sigh as she laid back in the warm water. “Are you okay?” He called. 

“Yes, darling.” A pause, a splash of water. “Thank you.”

“Anytime, Pegs. I’m going to go clean downstairs. Just call me if you need anything.”

Before he could do something stupid, Steve found himself rushing down the steps, shaking his head. While Peggy bathed, he took her sick blankets and pillows, airing them out after spraying them down with disinfectant. He wasn’t sure if she wanted them washed or not. He sprayed the couch down while he was at it, opening the windows more to let fresh air in.

A sweep through the kitchen and last check of the living room, Steve was satisfied that Peggy’s beautiful home wasn’t too sickly-smelling. When Peggy had called him, he was already up the stairs, a warm towel in hand.

“Here,” he called after knocking on the door, sticking the towel through the opened door. 

“Oh, it’s warm. Thank you. I’ll be out in a minute.”

When the door opened, Steve saw the bath did help some. She looked better and her face wasn’t so flushed. “How do you feel?” He asked, taking the damp towel and leading her to her already warmed bed, thanks to the heater.

“A bit better, still feel like I could sleep a week.”

“I think you should. The soup should help you feel better in no time. Here.” Tucking her in, Steve paused to gently tuck a loose lock of hair behind her head. “Do you need anything?”

Unable to help it, her lips pursed in thought. “You to stay?”

The question posed made Steve stall in mid-step, turning to look back at Peggy. He fully expected to leave and call or text her later, not ask to stay.

“Stay? With you? Sure, I can...can go downstairs?”

Peggy rolled her eyes. “No, Steven. With me. In bed. Just to...cuddle, until I fall asleep?”

There was no answer to be had because World Infamous Worst-Talker-To-Women-Ever couldn’t say no, not when Peggy was asking to cuddle her until she slept. He slowly got into bed, on top of the covers. She pulled herself in, close to his chest, and breathed him in with a heavy, exhausted sigh.

This close, fresh from a bath, she no longer smelled like sickness, but instead soft and floral and Peggy.

“Get some rest,” he breathed, wrapping his arms around her and kissing her temple. “I’m right here.”

“You better be,” she grumbled in midst of his pecs. “Or I’ll have a serious complaint to the landlord in the morning.”