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carlyraejcpsen · 3 years ago

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alright, i’ve tried to keep quiet because i truly believe in karma and wanted this rp to close through the admin’s own actions and not give them any opportunities to blame it on me instead. it also felt like beating a dead horse, because i was sure they’d close the rp after losing a huge proportion of their active members and the majority of their diversity. however, after seeing multiple people sharing their experiences today, they are still posting promo posts and starting their event. so yeah, here’s my experience with @thevillagerp

NOTE: i no longer have screenshots from my conversations with the admins, as i blocked them when i left the rp for the sake of my own mental health, but i did save the text in my drafts, so the messages below are copy pasted. i have not edited them in any way. They also deleted my original anonymous messages off of their blog.

TRIGGER WARNINGS: racism, very vague allusions to homophobia and transphobia

so i was a member of this roleplay for around two months. during my time there, it was startlingly obvious that white fcs were preferred and prioritised, both from the fact that they got more plots and interactions in general and from the fact that admins never promoted diversity on the main. even now, they repeatedly say they “would still love to receive some more male and non-binary apps” while ignoring that they currently have a ratio of 8 fcs of colour to 24 white fcs. their diversity rules at the time were that 1/3 of a mun’s characters had to be played by an fcoc. so people could easily just play one or two white characters.

a while ago, i sent an anonymous message to the main asking if they had considered perhaps changing this rule to be 2/3 characters instead of 1/3, since there were so few muses of colour in the roleplay (as i said before, they’ve since deleted this from their blog so i cannot provide a screenshot). they responded that they had been thinking of upping the character limit to four instead of three, with a rule that 2/4 must be played by an fcoc. i gave them the benefit of the doubt and the time to enact this change, but nothing happened.

so a few weeks later, i sent them this message on anonymous:

I was wondering if you had thought any more about the diversity rules here? I know you said before that you were considering increasing the character limit, but I noticed that hasn’t happened and I wanted to know if that was a change we’re going to see or if you would consider changing the rules in another way? I’m really disheartened by the lack of diversity in the roleplay

at the time there were 18 characters of colour out of a total of over 60. they responded (again, i’m sorry i don’t have the actual wording since they’ve deleted the messages) that they had thought about it and decided against upping the character limit, but instead would be having a weekly “poc acceptance day,” where they would only be accepting apps with fcs of colour. they also said they were doing this “now that the waitlist was mostly cleared,” which meant that the rp was mostly at capacity anyway, so they needed to look more at how to encourage their existing members to promote diversity, since there weren’t spaces open for new people to bring them in.

i responded with another anon expressing my disappointment and pointing out that they had done more to prevent having too many celebrity characters than too few muses of colour, as at the time they had a ban on celebrity muses. i wouldn’t usually suggest a ban on certain fcs, but as it was something they had done for celebrity characters, then i supposed it was a reasonable option.

they didn’t even respond to this message and instead posted on the main asking me to come off anon to discuss it. so i did, and i sent them the following dm:

i didn’t want to come off anon because i honestly feel really ostracised in this group and didn’t want to make it worse, but i don’t want to drop this issue and you aren’t comfortable addressing it publicly so here we are i guess. like i said in my previous message, i really don’t see how a “poc acceptance day” is going to make anywhere near enough of a difference. people will just wait for the opportunity to play their white characters. there are only 18 characters of colour in a roleplay with over 60 characters. that’s less than a third, which is obviously concerning. what’s even more concerning for me is that these characters are more often than not overlooked. i am often ghosted when plotting, or people don’t even reach out at all when i like plotting calls or intro posts. and then i have to watch characters like leo almost exclusively interact with white women (i’m sure that’s not the only example, but it is the first that comes to mind as he is one of the more active characters).

so this issue goes so much deeper than there just not being adequate representation in the rp. i really tried to help, i suggested making it a rule that 2/3 characters need to be poc in my original ask and you mentioned upping the character limit in response. i was worried that my concerns were being brushed aside, but i waited a while to give you the benefit of the doubt and the space to discuss the issue. so you can understand why it was really upsetting today to learn that the one thing you suggested was dropped and instead replaced with something that is barely scratching the surface of the problem. and i don’t know if it was your intention, but by saying that you were waiting for the waitlist to clear, it comes across as not wanting to receive any backlash from people who would want to join with only white characters. and even if people did want to join with faceclaims of colour, they can’t because the waitlist is cleared. like i suggested, you could change the rules so that 2 out of 3 characters must be people of colour. or, as was your proposed idea, up the character limit to four. you could also put a temporary ban on white faceclaims until the ratio evens out. as i mentioned, it’s really distressing that this was something you were willing to do for celebrity characters, but not to aid diversity.

i also just want to make it clear that these have been the only anons i’ve sent, i know you’ve been getting other ones, but those weren’t from me!!

( for context, they were receiving anons from someone else claiming that they felt left out in the rp ).

i had hoped that coming off anon would show them that this was a very real issue which was affecting their members, as well as giving them a space to discuss it privately instead of on the main. they responded with:

Hi Em, thank you for coming forward. We really, really appreciate it and we understand it’s not an easy thing to do. We also appreciate you flying the flag for diversity so strongly. We can always strive to be better, we are on the same page with you here.

Let us just explain our decision making. Firstly, just to address the waitlist, that was certainly not at all our intention when we brought it up. It was a logistical decision with 5+ applicants having already waited a week for acceptance and aware of their position on a waitlist.

When we decided against upping the character limit (and therefore the 2/4 POC character rule), we thought a POC acceptance day could be a good alternative course of action. In our eyes, this was something that would probably bring more POC characters to the group than the 2/4 rule because we knew there weren’t going to be many muns taking up an additional fourth character. This was a rule we’ve seen other groups enjoy success from so we wanted to try it out here. Plus, we think a day that explicitly highlights diversity every week would bring the message to the forefront of everyone’s minds. As we said, we’re going to monitor this over the next couple of weeks to see if it brings any improvement because we’d really like to have it as an ongoing rule.

The non-POC ban is actually a measure we’ve spoken about too and we are considering putting one in place should this fail. Thank you for raising your concerns, know that we’ve taken them very seriously and we hope that you’ll trust our judgement in trying this rule out first to see where it leads.

first of all, i don’t think i even have to mention the wording of “flying the flag for diversity.” but the real crux of the issue here is that they supposedly wanted me to come off anon to discuss the issue, but instead just explained their idea further and didn’t take anything i said on board. they didn’t even say a single word about how i told them i felt ostracised and regularly got ignored. i knew from speaking to other muns in the rp who played muses of colour (and just from looking at the dash) that they felt the same way too, but of course was only speaking from my own experience.

i thought long and hard about how to respond to this, as i was so disheartened by their unwillingness to listen to their members and the fact that they didn’t care that i felt left out. it felt like they had asked me to come off anon just so they knew who was messaging them and therefore put a target on my back, so honestly the thought of being on the dash or talking to the admins made me incredibly anxious. before i had a chance, however, they responded again with:

Hi hun, we’ve continued discussing this issue over the last couple of days and we wanted to let you know that we’ve decided to put in place a non-POC ban instead. Thank you again for holding a mirror up to the group. We do hope that this will recorrect the balance.

so i waited to see how things would play out. they posted about this new ban here and pinned the post to the top of the main:

[ IMAGE ID: a screenshot from thevillagehq of an admin update, which reads: in the interest of keeping the village a diverse space, we are currently only accepting applications for POCs. please note that any apps or reserves submitted to us for faceclaims that are not POCs will be deleted. we will lift this rule once we see fit.

thank you for your understanding and your efforts in making this group a brighter, more inclusive and diverse place for all. /END ID ]

this rule remained in place for around two weeks, during which time they made almost no effort to promote it. the above post was pinned to the main page, but that was the only mention of the ban anywhere on their page, they didn’t update the rules page or even put a note on the application page about it. during this two week period, the admins posted 10 promo posts, none of which suggested fcs or even mentioned the ban or diversity at all. the ban was then lifted suddenly when the pinned post was removed and the admins just went back to accepting apps with white fcs. the ratio had only evened out in those two weeks (from 18 out of 65 to 24/50) because of people going inactive or leaving, and there was nothing put into place to continue to promote diversity after the lift of the ban. in the three days after the ban was lifted, the admins posted over 10 promo posts, the same amount they had posted during the entirety of the ban. it was clear that they had no intention of actually making changes in their rp and had only done so because i refused to drop the issue.

again, i thought a lot about what i wanted to message them. i knew at this point that they didn’t want to make any real changes, but i still felt like i had to make it clear to them how disappointing their actions were. once again, i was messaged before i even had a chance, this time for bubbling.

as you can see in the above correspondence, i had told the admins point blank that i felt left out and ignored in the rp because of the characters i played (aubrey plaza, mj rodriguez and keiynan lonsdale fcs. all of my characters were queer and used either she/they or they/them pronouns). as a general rule, the only people who wanted to write with me and have interesting plots with me were people who played other muses of colour. the rp had a rule that you must reply to 3+ muns on every character, which i had been doing. i had only been back from my hiatus for a few days at this point and had responded to 6 different open starters the day prior. their message to me read:

Hi hun. There’s something we wanted to address to you directly. It’s been expressed to us by multiple members during these last few weeks that they have felt excluded by your character within the group, especially when it comes to the friend bubble that has formed between Mars, Bowie, Luvena, Asher and others.

While we encourage the development of friendships and trust that this isn’t intentional, we have a zero tolerance for bubble roleplaying at The Village. We are aware that our three mun activity rules have been met by all parties involved, however, bubbling is usually a little more nuanced than that and it seems it has unfortunately begun to create a bit of a divide within the group.

We have already issued individual warnings to a few people within the bubble, however with multiple members still expressing their concerns to us, we decided it would be better to address the group as a whole. We hope that by pointing this out to you, you will try and branch out to your fellow members a little more from now on - and try and be a little more inclusive when it comes to everyone else in the group.

We take such matters very seriously as admins, and while we hope it won’t have to come to this, there will be consequential steps taken should we not see any changes in your interactions in the weeks to come.

as you can imagine, i was incredibly upset to receive this message after already telling them i didn’t get plots from many of their members and they had done nothing. even people who i had previously messaged continued to only write with the same few white characters. i don’t deny that we definitely had a friendship group between our characters, but there were multiple people in that roleplay, including the admins, who only cared about ship plots or plots with the same few muns. me and other people who received the same message had all previously told the admins that people aren’t plotting with us and gotten ignored, so receiving this message made it clear that they neither cared about us nor wanted us in their rp. and so i responded as below:

yeah i literally told you i felt left out because there are multiple people only writing with white characters and you never addressed it, so this message is honestly insulting. i have reached out to almost every new member, responded to multiple open starters and have tried to plot with as many people as possible. like i told you, i am often left on read or people don’t even message me at all. if people do message me, i am usually expected to put in all of the effort and if people aren’t interested in actually developing plots with me then i am obviously not going to force my characters on them. all of my characters are queer, non binary people of colour and the harsh truth of this roleplay is that people don’t care about them. i even wrote out a whole list of 20 detailed suggested connections in an attempt to get more plots and nothing came from that either. i’ve even gotten anonymous hate saying that offering to explain my characters’ pronouns was “patronising,” which i didn’t feel like i could approach you about because, when i told you about how i’m feeling excluded, you didn’t care.

so if i only have actual plots with the people who actually care about my characters, i make no apologies. i also don’t even have threads with half of the characters you named, asher being the only one, and have literally only just come off hiatus. so please explain how i am bubbling, because this really just feels targeted at this point.

you’ve made it endlessly clear that this rp isn’t a safe space for people who want to play diverse characters. the main was practically silent while you had a ban on white faceclaims, which you never actively promoted, and then you dropped that suddenly without putting anything else in place. you also deleted my initial anonymous messages asking about diversity as if you were trying to hide that there was ever an issue. you turned anonymous messages off, so that no one can safely criticise you. because i did that off anon and ever since it has felt like there is a massive target on my back. my characters have been “accidentally” on the activity checks multiple times despite me being on hiatus (people get a notification that they were tagged even if you remove their name from the list btw). plus when i asked for an extension on my hiatus, you said that you would allow it “just this once” which now makes me feel like i can’t come to you if i’m busy. right now, for example, i am in the middle of moving house, but i’m also stressed about trying to stay active because you have made yourselves completely unapproachable.

the ratio only evened out slightly because members left. then suddenly after the ban you’re posting multiple promo posts a day??? you couldn’t get more obvious. i came to you about diversity in good faith, hoping that it was something you were unaware of, but you have made it abundantly clear that you actively do not want to promote diversity in your roleplay, we are just here to be witnesses to your ship. there are multiple members who are actually bubbling who have been brought to your attention, but nothing has been done. leo continues to only write with the same three white and white passing characters. charlotte pretty much only appears to write with leo and post a vague “message me for plots” post that wasn’t even tagged. both of you only put effort into your ship threads with each other and the occasional text threads. even with something like group events: while i’ve been here, there’s been a pride event that neither of your characters were even in new york for (an event where i was the only one reaching out and posting multiple starters, by the way); there was no event last month, and this month all you’re talking about is this housewarming party.

i’m really disheartened that it’s come to this, but i can’t be here anymore. please post unfollows for all my characters. you’ve said multiple times that we should trust you as admins, but this message shows again that i simply can’t do that. from the disregard of trigger warnings, to the way you treated being held accountable for the lack of diversity, to how you respond to people asking for hiatuses, this isn’t a safe space. even if i stayed, the target you have placed on me is making it insufferable to just write my characters in peace.

the other muns who received the same bubbling message (copy pasted btw, we all got the same one word for word) all responded with their own concerns and criticisms in responses of a similar length to mine. none of us received a reply, our unfollows were just posted the next day without any further responses from the admins. a few of the other members who had written and plotted with us chose to leave as well, which the admins wrote off as us just dragging them with us as opposed to them being able to make their own decisions and being aware of the situation (which was incredibly obvious. no promotion of a white fc ban, suddenly being active on the main once they try to stealthily drop the ban, then the majority of their muses of colour leaving???)

i haven’t paid the rp much attention since i left, as i mentioned above i blocked the main and the majority of the members just for my own mental health. but from a quick scroll through today i can see that the only change in diversity rules is that now instead of your third character having to be a poc, it is now your second. however, you still only have to have 1 character out of 3 have a fc of colour. so very little has been done, but of course i’m not surprised in the slightist.

these admins don’t want diversity in their roleplay. if you play any character who isn’t a rich, white, cishet neurotypical, please avoid it at all costs. it’s not in any way a safe environment.

#rpc #rpt #rp #thevillagerp #hope this makes sense i think there's a lot that needs context and hopefully i did a good enough job explaining #sorry to my non rp followers this blog is such a mess

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barkkletshunt · 4 years ago

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Those Worth Fighting For Part eight

I feel like I’m really pushing out these parts right now lol It’s been so long since I’ve had a few days off to work on this. I hope you like it!

Part one Part two

Part three Part four

Part five Part six

Part seven Bonus scene 1

Part eight (You’re here)

Taglist:

@ladybug-182 @fruit-snacc-ace @miraculous-simmer7 @lavenderjunes @use-flamethrower @fan-written @all-mights-asscheeks @birdie-posts

Marinette looked over her pajamas, wondering why she thought having a pajama date as one of their first dates was a good idea. It was her idea and she wasn’t going to go back on it, but oh God why didn’t she own any cute pajamas?

“Marinette, I thought you wanted to have a laid back date? Why are you stressing out about your outfit?” Tikki knew Marinette better than anyone else, but even she had a hard time understanding her current holders mind sometimes. “Why not wear your comfiest pajamas?”

The blue haired girl looked over to the pajamas she had worn the night before, the comfiest pajamas she owned, and sized up the hot chocolate stains and the tear on the left leg from when she got it caught on the balcony bar. She meant to fix it, but with school and her other projects as MDC the PJ’s were put on the backburner. “Yeah, no, that’s not happening. I’m still trying to impress him.”

“Then what about the set your Grandfather bought you for christmas?” Tikki asked, floating above Marinette’s shoulder to look at the silk pin striped PJ’s. “Those are impressive!”

“But they’re too impressive. It won’t look natural and it will come across as I’m trying too hard.” The woman began biting at her lip, looking over the other pairs of pajamas she owned. “What if I wore the pair Chat Noir bought me? They are comfortable, kinda cute, and they come with slippers to match.”

“The Ladybug ones?” Tikki thought it over for a moment. “They are nice without being too nice, and comfortable without being overworn. I think they’re a good bet!”

Marinette changed into the pajamas her former hero partner had given her, and tucked her feet into the boot slippers that matched. Although they were too big for her as a teen they now fit her perfectly now that her body looked more like her body as a heroine. She was taller now, and from constant training with her mother and Kagami her muscles had grown strong and resilient. She still couldn’t leap from building to building as a civilian, but she could certainly hold her own when it came to freerunning and parkour.

“I wonder what he’s going to wear,” she said absentmindedly to her kwami as she changed, stripping off her school clothes and hopping into the pajama pants successfully without falling over. “Something flashy, I’m sure.”

“Maybe he has normal pajamas and is worried you’ll think he isn’t as fancy?

“Ha, I wish. He’s fancy through and through.” Marinette laughed, pulling the shirt over her head. “Maybe I can convince him to dress like a normal person like the rest of us mere mortals. He’d look really good in a turtleneck.”

She looked herself over in the mirror and sighed. She looked too much like Ladybug for her own comfort. While they were the perfect level of baggy, and the colour was slightly off from her actual suit, having red pants with black polka dots made her take a second look at herself.

The shirt was white, with a pun on it, with red sleeves that matched the pants, and even the booties matched the ladybug pattern to tie everything together. She either looked like someone who absolutely loved Ladybug, or Ladybug herself trying to throw off someone's scent by pretending to be a die hard fan. Either way, she needed to change.

Knock, knock, knock.

Or she would change if Felix wasn’t so damned punctual.

Marinette grabbed her coat and the baked goods she got from her parents earlier and headed towards the door. On the other side was Felix, looking as handsome as ever. She could see baggy track pants underneath his black trench coat, but none of that mattered the second he leaned forward and placed a delicate kiss on the top of her head.

“I brought you coffee.” His voice was soft, as if worried saying anything would stop the butterflies that began to flutter in her stomach. “Are you alright with pizza tonight? I was running errands all day and I didn’t have a chance to pick anything up to cook.”

Marinette wrapped her arms around him and hugged him tight, feeling him stiffen for just a moment before returning the affectionate gesture. It wasn’t the first time she had hugged him since reuniting with the blond, but it was the first hug she had given him that she allowed herself to savour.

She could feel his back muscles through his thin coat, and wondered briefly what he did to make them so defined. In his suits it was hard to tell how muscular he was, but from the hold he had on her she figured he was a lot stronger than he looked.

It was just a simple hug, but he held her like he was afraid to let her go. Maybe it was just her mind going haywire from how good the man before her smelt, like fresh soap and coffee. It was warm and clean and she loved it.

The hug was over too soon and both parties let go with mild embarrassment at how much they enjoyed it. They looked at the walls and the floors, anything not to meet each other's gaze until they finally did. Neither could help the laughter that bubbled from their lips at seeing how the other felt the same way. It was easy and light being with him, and she wondered if that was how the starting of love was supposed to be.

“So, Marinette Dupain-Cheng, are you ready to go back to my temporary Parisian home with my cousin and his fiancee and look over the seating placements?” Felix asked, trying to regain his air of formality but failing as his smile kept returning. He offered his arm to her, finally giving up on hiding his giddiness at their first official date. “And start preparing the invitations to what I assume is half of France itself?”

“Why, Felix!” She giggled, taking his arm and walking down the hallway of her apartment building with him. “I thought you’d never ask!”

Felix was a gentleman. This was an irrefutable fact. He took the bag of baked goods from her to carry it himself, he opened the car door for her and waited until she was in and buckled before closing the door and getting in on his side. He made sure to get out of the car first to hold her door open for her again, and did the same at the front door of the house. It didn’t even seem like he was trying to impress her, it was just his natural habits.

“Fel! Mari! Good timing!” Adrien’s voice called to them the second they were in the house, before Felix had a chance to take her coat and hang it up. “We’re in the living room.”

The two looked at each other, their confusion etched upon their faces.

“Well, better get this over with.” Felix sighed, slowly unbuttoning his coat and taking it off. Revealing the black t-shirt underneath with the design of a suit printed on the chest. She wanted to laugh. Of course, how did she not think of it? This way he could still wear a suit to bed! “Oh, it gets better. I have a matching pair of slippers to yours.”

As Felix reached into the closet to put his coat away, he pulled out a pair of familiar looking slippers. She hadn’t seen them before, but she had seen up close where the design came from. The slippers Felix put on resembled Chat Noir’s boots. Without planning it out ahead of time the two of them matched. No wonder they liked each other so much.

When they made their way to the living room, with a slight detour to the kitchen to set down the pizza and the baked goods, they saw Kagami and Adrien sitting on one of the sofa’s dressed like they came right out of a 90’s parent teacher conference. Kagami wore a blouse Marinette was sure she had never seen on her friend before, and Adrien wore a dress shirt with a sweater vest over it. They both had glasses on, and she knew for a fact neither of them needed glasses.

Adrien looked at Marinette and seemed to freeze for a moment before returning to his disappointed face.

“What’s going on?” She began to ask, but the two crossed their arms and nodded towards the couch across from them.

Marinette and Felix sat down, looking confused as ever.

“Marinette, darling, we need to talk.” Kagami started, her monotone voice not matching her words. “We were informed today about something that shocked us to our core.”

“We’re not mad that you didn’t tell us,” Adrien continued, nodding along. Marinette noticed the model was wearing a fake mustache. “Just disappointed.”

“And what, prey tell, was I supposed to tell you?” She wanted to laugh. She knew their game, she knew exactly what they were playing at. It didn’t make it any less hilarious to her.

“And Felix, I expected better from you than withholding secrets from me.” Adrien fake cried onto Kagami’s shoulder, who only patted his back in an attempt to soothe him.

“It’s okay dear, as her father I will handle this.” Kagami whispered.

“I thought I was the father, that’s why I’m wearing the mustache.” Adrien lifted his head.

“You’re the emotional mother who doesn’t know how to handle her daughter's secret life, and I’m the father who will be stern but also loves his wife despite the facial hair because you have a beautiful spirit.” Kagami stated.

“You’d be a great dad.”

“I already am.” Kagami adjusted herself. “Marinette, how could you not tell us you were dating Felix?”

Felix stared at his cousin and his fiancee. He couldn’t believe what he was seeing. Had Adrien always been this goofy? Had Kagami?

“Mom, Dad, I’m sorry, it’s still new. This is our first date.” Marinette leaned forward and grabbed Kagami’s hand. Felix groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. If he wasn’t already smitten with the blue haired woman, he was sure he’d fall for her again right then and there. His cousin and his soon to be wife, correction, his family loved Marinette so much that they had these silly little jokes and the woman had no problem playing along. She was every bit of the family already and if they were that protective of her then he knew he was falling for the right girl.

“First date so far, but thankfully you two have given us enough excuses to spend time together that we’re bound to have more dates in the future.” Felix nudged Marinette lightly with his elbow. “Maybe we’ll even, gasp, become a serious relationship and rival your fame.”

“You will if Alya has anything to say about it.” Kagami mumbled.

“What?” Marinette squinted at her friend, but Kagami shook her head and refused to answer.

“Well, do I need to grab my sword and threaten you not to hurt my daughter?” Kagami asked Felix, all joking leaving her.

“No worries, Ma’am, er, sir? I will treat Marinette with the utmost respect.” Felix gave a salute to the Japanese woman. “Now can we go and finish our mission of preparing the invitations to your wedding? While we may be dressed for night time, we aren’t planning on working all night.”

“Speaking of how you’re dressed,” Adrien’s voice wavered for a second. “Marinette, where did you get those pajamas?”

She looked down at herself. How was she supposed to say that the former black cat of Paris gave them to her alter ego self for Christmas? She wasn’t. “A friend got them for me, I’m not sure where he bought them from. Why? Are you jealous?”

Adrien laughed, but it almost sounded forced. “You got me. I wanted them, but oh well.”

Kagami looked at her fiance who just waved her off.

“Well, those pajamas look good on you, M’lady.” Adrien stood up and offered his hand to Kagami who took it and followed his lead. “We’re going to go spar for a bit. Let me know if you two want to join us!”

M’Lady? When had Adrien ever called her that?

“Well Miss. Bug, shall we be off?” Felix’s voice snapped her out of her train of thought, and then immediately threw her down another hole of questioning. Did he just call her Miss. Bug? The same way that Alley Cat did? Was it just her pajamas making the two blonds act this way, or was there more to the story? God, she was beginning to sound like Alya.

“Pizza first, invitations second, and third movie time! Sounds good?”

“Anything sounds good if you say it.”

Marinette’s cheeks burned. With all thoughts of Chat Noir and Alley Cat forgotten, the two of them left to the kitchen.

#Those worth fighting for #twff #felix x marinette #felinette #fanon felix #felix graham de vanily #marinette dupain cheng #Marinette #marinette dupen chang #miraculous ladybug #miraculous fanfic #Kagami Tsurugi #adrigami #adrien agreste

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ceratonia-siliqua · 4 years ago

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Sunshine

Baby’s first stucky fic! A/B/O based on a post from awhile back about omegas being soft and smelling good after laying in the sun. If I find it again I will link it!

Written because of prompting from @the1918 and @howdoyousleep3. It’s not my usual poetic musings but sometimes you just need some unadulterated fluff.

Warnings: The lightest, barest amount of angst if you squint. This work is also left ambiguous as to the history prior to this so it can be as close or as far from canon as you would like it to be!

Sunlight, unfettered and sweet filtered through the window. Cast a long glowing shadow across the light wooden flooring. The light traced the imperfection in the wood, every scratch and gorge on display. It was a sight, one made homely by the nest pooling across the floor. It was small, temporary, one built by an omega for comfort than by an alpha for home. A lump made warm and honeyed by the light rested in it’s center. Long strands of hair stuck out wildly from it, messy in a sleepy way. A way that made Steve’s heart melt into a molten, sticky mess.

He slowly made his way over, taking in the sight of his omega in a state of sound and utter peace. Bucky had burrowed face down, hiding his eyes from the light while his skin absorbed the vibrant smell that came from it. To Steve it was the smell of a happy omega. He’d never once known an omega to be sour after a sun bath, especially not Buck. Bucky always smelled like peaches, the sun ripened him till he smelled like cobbler. It was addictive, Steve’s favorite smell on earth.

He’d been watching for awhile now. Morning coffee in one hand, newspaper forgotten in the other. He watched Bucky build the nest, had offered to help but was politely ignored. Steve may have a tendency to go overboard with nests. When he’d been a skinny slip of a thing he’d committed himself to perfecting the art. It was the one alpha role he could fulfill and do truly well. He’d rent books from the library and spend hours memorizing the best techniques. It felt silly looking back but it had been one of the only providing roles he’s ever thought he could meet. Ultimately, it had been a good time investment if the nest in their bedroom was any indicator. Bucky had once joked the only thing it was missing was Steve going apeshit with a baddazler.

A massive sigh came from the Bucky shaped lump on their living room floor. The kind that only comes from complete and utter contentment. Steve couldn’t resist anymore. He set his coffee and newspaper on the dining table, never looking away from the sundrenched spot. His footsteps didn’t seem to alert Bucky in the slightest, a trust built in the space of their life together. Their home provided them both safety, safety they needed after so much of their lives spent constantly in and out of war. It was nice to finally have a physical space to call home, even if that was Bucky’s title before the four plaster walls surrounding them. He carefully stepped into the nest, straddling the space over Bucky before folding down on top of him.

Bucky jumped but settled as Steve’s nose burrowed into his neck. His skin was warm and sweet, Steve couldn’t help but get a few openmouthed kisses in so he could get a taste. Couldn’t ever get enough of Bucky, especially like this. Nearly liquid under him, Bucky’s purrs were gentle and sleepy. He worried his own rumbling would be too much, but he received no complaints as the sun warmed his back as his sun sweetened omega heated his front. It was blissful, he wished they could stay there, unmoving, for the rest of their natural lives.

The shifting beneath him seemed like it would end that wish, but Bucky had simply turned onto his back, tucking his face into Steve’s neck and getting his fill of his beloved alpha’s scent. He’d told Steve once that he smelled like pines, he wondered if the sun changed that the way it did Bucky’s. Their joined scent, something sharp and fresh with a homely edge to soften it, flooded the space around them. The sun mellowed it into a hazy cloud.

“Steve?”

“Mhm?”

“Are we still supposed to go to that charity event Tony is putting on?”

Well, that killed the mood a bit. He sighed, “Yes, we do.”

“How many rounds do you think we can get in before we have to be ready?”

The scents in the room suddenly turned deeper, mustier, Bucky shuddered beneath him. “Why don’t we find out, sugar?”

_____

The smell of sun didn’t leave. Even after fucking like they were dying, the vibrant smell lingered in unexpected places, most notably, Bucky’s hair. It made getting ready difficult on Bucky’s part.

“Steve I swear to god-”

“I’m not doing anything!”

“Get your nose out of my hair for five seconds so I can get shit put together!” Bucky hip checked him hard enough that Steve let up. Made puppy eyes at his mate’s back even as his very name was cursed to the heavens. The clacking of hangers across the rack followed him as he sat down on a chair by the closet, watched as Bucky tried to find them both outfits.

“You know Buck, you don’t have to dress me. I’m fine doing it on my own.” If looks could kill Steve may have ended up with two knives in his ribs with the way Bucky was glaring.

“Steve, there are a lot of things society expects out of me, most of which they can shove right up their asses, but I will not be the omega that lets his mate leave the house dressed like a doormat.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“It means you dress yourself like a cardboard box, Steve.”

“I’m wounded Buck, I really am.” The pout he put on was usually successful but rarely a trick he pulled. Something about the dinner had to be stressing his poor baby out if he was this snippy after most of the day in bed.

Bucky sighed, running his fingers through his hair, still drying from the shower. “I’m sorry Stevie, it’s not your fault. There is a lot of press coverage at this event and I don’t want to give them ammunition against you.”

Oh, oh. Things were clicking now. The press had been a problem for a while now. Steve knew what Bucky meant but wasn’t saying. For some reason, a magazine company had started running slander campaigns against Bucky. In a way it was to be expected, Bucky wasn’t a traditionalist, and neither was Steve when it came down to it. They’d both dumped enough expectations for their roles in the garbage to be on equal ground but Bucky got the worst of it. Everything he did was picked apart. Most of it was laughable, but there were things that got to him, mainly those which targeted Steve. Bucky could handle more than anyone he’d ever met, but Steve had never seen him more devastated than the day four articles had come out about Steve wearing mismatched shoes. All the blame had been pinned to his poor omega. The gossip circles had labeled Bucky as neglectful. One of the few “omega specific” tasks he was known to partake in was dressing Steve. When they had been nothing more than two starving Brooklyn kids, Bucky had been determined to take care of Steve when his body shit out on him. One of the few things he’d let Bucky truly do was dress him. They had a rhythm, tops always went on first. Unless he was too weak to lift his arms Bucky would simply pass shirts, jackets, and coats for Steve to do himself. Most days Bucky only put his feet through the legs of his pants for him, letting Steve pull them up when he stood. There were plenty of times on the other hand, where Buck had needed to vault Steve into standing by his belt loops so they could get him up long enough to get his pants on.

Steve knew all of this, very well in fact, but the media didn't. They hadn’t seen Bucky, eighteen with only a few dollars to his name, beaten and worn down. Hadn’t seen the exhaustion skittering across every nerve. Didn’t know that despite being dead on his feet, Bucky would always make sure Steve was taken care of first. No one deserved the level of disrespect going on, but Bucky shouldn’t have even been on the radar. The shoe mix up had been his own fault. Bucky had been sick, throwing up at even the slightest suggestion of light. He had gotten dressed in the dark and ran to the store, hadn’t even thought about what he might look like, laser focused on his task instead. Bucky needed medicine and Steve needed Bucky well. That was all he had thought at the time.

“Buck, we don’t have to go.”

Eyes fluttered to the side, Bucky wouldn’t look at him. “I want to go, and it wouldn’t be fair to Tony to leave him to the dogs like that.”

Steve nearly snorted, Tony wouldn’t notice them failing to pop in, and even if he did it wouldn’t be remembered the next morning.

“Sweetheart,” He stood up, went and placed both his hands on Bucky’s shoulders. Bucky peaked at him from the corner of his eyes. “You don’t have to make yourself uncomfortable to make others comfortable. We can stay home, watch a movie, order some take-out.”

Bucky looked over his shoulder at their closet. He held himself like he was expecting something to jump out at him, like a timer was set to go off any second to spell some horrible doom. Steve wanted to call it right then and there, force them to stay home, but Bucky would fight him on it and go out of spite. He cupped the side of his darling mate’s face and coaxed him into eye contact. Blue and grey met and blended, met and crashed, met and free fell backwards into each other. There was trust, so much trust. It bellied his own concerns, left him hovering there waiting for an answer. Bucky would make the choice he needed too, even if it wasn’t the one Steve would have made for him. From day one he had sworn to be an alpha Bucky could respect, one that he would be proud to stand by. Part of that was letting go in moments like this. He looked into those eyes, the ones that belonged to his heart, and sent a silent message. It’s your choice. Your call. I will follow you wherever you take me, us. It was intense even for such a simple choice, but that was always how it was between them.

Bucky’s nose turned into his wrist, silent puffs of air sliding over his skin as Bucky drew in his scent. He closed his eyes for a few time-stopping seconds before those haunting grey eyes peaked beneath fluttering lashes.

“...Let’s stay home.” A smile turned the corner of his lips, an expression Steve would never stop loving. “But I get to pick the movie. You’re still on a two week probation after making me watch Baby Driver.”

Steve couldn’t resist dipping down, stealing a kiss across slightly chapped lips. The kiss stolen at the end of his love’s sentence was sweet. The traces of sunlight only made it sweeter.

#Stucky #siliqua writes #marvel #steve rogers #bucky barnes #abo #alpha/beta/omega verse #this originally was going to have some smut but alas #it hindered me so it had to go #hopefully I but at least a decent foot forward

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blackfemmecharacterdependency · 4 years ago

Text

34. Ivory

Previous Trigger Warnings for mentions of underage/revenge porn, mentions of eating disorder Word Count: 8388

Between Grace making that post of her rapping along to Captain Hook, her saying "aye aye" to Simon in comments, and this photo of Simon's D print in the gray sweatpants, I'm starting to think he's packing a curve 👀

Simon Laurent "liked"

Commenter: He is! Did you never see the old sex tape?

Poster: The WHAT? No… But, wait… I thought that they dated in school. You mean like something that happened after that?

Commenter: They were in school, but it was online for the longest time before she snitched, so I’m sure somebody still has it out there…

Poster: That’s gross. I’m not that desperate to see it that I wanna look at some kids doing it. No thank you.

Simon Laurent “liked”

Commenter is blocked by Simon.

Grace was in the grocery store with her mother and brother, and Zasha, a white samoyed puppy that Mrs. Monroe had purchased from a breeder… to potentially train to be in competitions, and Zasha’s handler. Why did Mrs. Monroe bring Zasha into the store, just to have someone else hold her? For the same reason that the nanny was also there, tending to Montanus. “Because, that is literally what I pay them to do.” But… we’re at the grocery store and didn’t even have to BRING them! Grace didn’t argue.

However, she did wonder if she was suffering from some type of weird mid life crisis, or just a rich, bored woman whose husband was working more and more all of the time, despite supposedly getting closer to retirement. Then, she wondered if they weren’t doing so well. But, she kept those wonders to herself, as it would frighten her to know whatever the truth was if it was anything other than her mother did whatever she wanted because she could afford to.

Plus, she wanted to get out of the house, and apparently that had been reduced to tagging along with Grace at the grocery store, in case she needed help. “You’re almost 6 months, correct? How has it been? Online, one would swear that you’re Diahanne Caroll in her prime. You’ve rarely broken a sweat. Is that for your fans?”

Grace shook her head and read the label of something before putting it into her cart, “I haven’t had any problems, except for eating way more than I used to and getting gas, but those calcium chews usually help with that and I bounce right back. You know, I’ve always taken really great care of myself, think things through and pay top dollar for the finest self care. I guess that the baby is pleased with their temporary temple.” She smiled at her mom and noticed the woman looked leery. “I know… you had a very rough pregnancy with me. Believe me, I remember this fact, but I haven’t been having that experience, personally. In fact… Did you know that I’ve gained THOUSANDS of new followers since they’ve seen that I was pregnant. Pregnant people have been asking me what I use for this and for that and I’ve been plugging my brand, since we’ve got the pregnancy line now. It’s been sensational. I’ve had a blast!”

Grace had been working on a blog about her pregnancy, which she began with a video addressing all of the questions to all of the people who were not her.

“Hey, Those That Are Graced!” She’d cheered into the camera, “Happy New Year! I know that I’ve been unavailable to reach out too, and believe me, I do miss interacting with fans and followers, but I am currently not working on my career, to focus on other things in my life. Just to touch base with everyone, I feel like we’ve had this discussion before and those of you who actually respect me would definitely not need it repeated, but there have been so many new faces of possibly unfamiliar followers that I am revisiting notes that I have in all of my bios…

First, my professional life is one thing, my private life is another. I extend myself professionally, and over the past few months, even though I have not actually been working, I’ve still been spending time providing everyone with content. Please do not send messages, comments, or questions for me to any of my friends, and especially not to my family members, Hazel in particular. She is 12 and shouldn’t have adults bothering her for information that not only isn’t her concern, but isn’t your concern. She wants to be able to enjoy the limited hours of screen time that she’s allowed. That becomes difficult for her when people are asking her hundreds of questions that literally are related to her mother’s sex life.

Second, my professional life is offered at my discretion, as well. Whenever there is product that I think you should try, I will announce it. If I’m not familiar with a product or no arrangements have been made for me to try a product or I’m unaware of a product… my comments is not the place for said product. That is including everything from your all natural care supplies, book recommendations, your demos, your dance videos… Like… I LOVE receiving those things, but whenever I open my comments back up, that is not where those things go.

I have links for email addresses for avenues of business, entertainment, etc on my website, and if nothing else, my website is featured on every form of social media that I have. I am the person who goes through those emails. I am NOT the person who checks my social media messages, so you will never get a response from me through those and run the risk of me not seeing something if you send it there instead.

Third, my spaces have boundaries and moderators to enforce those boundaries. Whenever you’ve been allowed to be a guest in any of my spaces or my child’s spaces, you treat that shit like Afropunk - “No sexism, no racism, no ableism, no homophobia, no fatphobia, no transphobia, no hatefulness.” And then, since I’m not Afropunk and I have even greater needs, and can’t believe I have to say this much else: No pedophilia, no inappropriate interactions with a minor, no incestuous ideation, and no nudity. My moderators are quick, but not perfect. Your fellow guests and neighbors in my spaces should never have to see jokes about my mother and I engaged in sexual acts together, or worse, my UNDERAGE daughter, and no - Hazel and I posting a dance video is not an invitation for someone to make comments that because she might be fluid in her movements that it is sexually suggestive and if ever we find one of those headass posts where you put a photo of my beautiful daughter up, say something obscene or rude or ask, “Thoughts?” Simon finds out your IP address, sometimes more than that and he doxxes your ass. Ask around. If threats of violence or suggestions of harm are given… he might show up at your house and I don’t know what to even tell you about that one, because I’m not at liberty to say, according to the lawyers.”

She smiled, relaxed, unclenched her teeth that she realized had been clenched since she began her greater needs.

“Fourth, leave Hazel alone. She isn’t going to add you, because she is not allowed to add adults that she does not know. If you follow her public figure pages, those are for her poetry, her brand, her rapping, her artwork, her theater program, and whatever announcements she wants to share with her fans about her personal life, which is usually vague and innocent. If Hazel posts that she had a great time at the premiere of some movie, that is not the place to ask her personal questions. The place to ask her personal questions is nowhere! We don’t have a space created for strangers to ask her personal questions. She sometimes will be allowed to grant an interview, in which she will answer a professional about appropriate questions that have been approved.

Fifth, shut up about Simon! Shut up about Simon! I swear to you… In the past few years that Simon and I have been in communication and the ones that we’ve been in close communication, I KNOW that you realize that we are communicating, but that falls under my private life, which I have not created a space in the public for.

Now… you may speak with Simon about whatever things he speaks about in his private life, I can’t control that, but what I can control and do control is what he will or won’t say about me, even in HIS space. Yes. I got it like that, and what will happen, is Simon will be seeing this, and he is very good at remembering details and he will memorize everything that I’ve said here and he will respect that and enforce it, even in HIS space.

Which leads me to my last thing… There’s a lot of Esmoroth fanfolk in my spaces now and you all act a certain way in your little Esmoroth corner of the Internet… but in here, in Grace’s space, you better act like you’ve been tossed to the feet of the Idol Princess when her pheromones are igniting the internal flame of servitude. Because, we stan the Idol Princess in this space, and you’d better act right.”

After the release of the 3rd book and return of the Idol Princess aka the Future Queen, several fans were disappointed and had called Simon out for “pandering.” But, several MORE fans came around. He was competing for top spots with the YA novel greats after the 3rd book. But… that also meant more fans to be in Grace’s business.

Her New Year’s announcement remained pinned at the top of her page and the next post was text, “Oh, yeah. Last but not least, you may have noticed that I’m pregnant. I’ll be featuring some of my favorite findings on my maternity journey here, so please stay tuned if you’re pregnant, expecting, or planning, for what I think and hope will be some helpful tips for your journey!”

Most of the Esmoroth fandom didn’t like her very much, but they also “just couldn’t stay away. Aside from the Grace in Maternity blog, she still didn’t have social media open for commentary, though she did sometimes pass through Simon’s or Hazel’s comments and engaged a little bit with them. She pinned the video to other sites and then just didn’t really visit them again much.

“I could barely walk whenever I was six months pregnant. I had the finest of everything, too,” Mrs. Monroe broke into her thoughts. “Then again, I had what they now call an eating disorder for several years. I… wasn’t completely… well whenever you were announced…” she looked guilty, like she did whenever she faced her own failures as a mother. “We had to get a 24 hour nurse to keep me… healthy. By seven months, I could hardly get out of bed.”

Grace furrowed her eyebrows, “Mom… you’ve never told me that you had an eating disorder. Did you ever get help for it?”

“Help? Oh… like… whenever I had to be rushed to the hospital multiple times? Yes. I got help.”

“MOM… Did you ever heal?”

“Wait, are you asking me if I have disordered eating now? Heaven’s no, Grace. I was trapped with your father by the time you were born. I eventually realized that I had to be more… alive and well than I did flawless. We hired a nutritionist and personal chef.”

“Mom… a lot of people need psychological help for something like that.”

“And I come across to you as ‘a lot of people’? Hmph. It’s pathetic enough that I allowed myself to be so weak. I wasn’t going to beg someone to give me the strength I needed.”

“That’s not what it’s like at all…” Grace cupped her mother’s face and said, “There may be things that people need to help you with, Mom. That doesn’t make you weak or whatever else you’ve convinced yourself of. It didn’t make me weak when I needed to get help. It doesn’t make Hazel weak when she needs help…”

Mrs. Monroe waved Grace’s hands off of her face, “As long as you’re fine, have no other concerns.”

“Mom…”

“Were you done with the shopping?” Grace sighed and continued moving.

Simon was pacing, clenching and unclenching his fists. Several of the message boards, every one of his social media platforms, and even at least one of Hazel’s. He’d taken her devices away, but now she was angry and he certainly couldn’t find the words to explain beyond, “You can’t be online right now.” She was scribbling aggressively in one of her paper journals, and fuming. They both were fuming from different but related reasons.

Grace came in with her little shopping entourage and Hazel rushed to her, furiously.

“Your BOY TOY took my devices DURING screen time and REFUSES to give them back!” Grace’s eyes went wide and she turned to look at Simon, who was pacing and didn’t even seem to hear the accusation, notice that she came in or to see Monty. Something was absolutely wrong here.

“Help get the groceries and I’ll get your devices, okay?” Grace said and cupped her chin. Hazel was still breathing heavily as she stormed out towards the groceries and Mrs. Monroe settled on the couch. Grace took Simon’s hand and he was startled by her sudden touch. But, the moment he realized it was her, he let out a deep breath and wrapped her up in a tight hug. “Hey. Let’s go talk, okay?” She suggested, rubbing his back. He nodded his head, but didn’t move from the spot or lessen his hold on. She squirmed a little bit and said politely, “Oxygen, Gray Eyes..” He let up and rushed out of the room. Grace followed and watched him flop on the bed and cover his face with his fists. “Whenever you’re ready.”

“We’ve been doing SO well…” He said, shaking his head.

“We have.” So, this is something that he did wrong? “And the only way that we continue doing well is to be open and caring with each other.” He slicked back the wild hairs that weren’t pulled into his ponytail. He appeared to be in a lot of pain, but she had to get whatever this was settled. “Should I go online? Will I see what happened, if I do?” She pulled out her phone, mumbling, “I’m guessing that’s why Hazel’s stuff was confiscate-” He snatched the phone from her hands and she let out a yelp, both at the audacity and the fact that she didn’t even see him get up.

“No. I have to tell you. You can’t find out on the Internet. SHE can’t get on. She CAN’T!”

“Why can’t she? Because, she’s pretty pissed and it IS her screen time…”

“Because, the internet is relentless and unkind, and she’s too young to have to deal with how much. Not today. She’ll… I’ll… give her extra time once it's died down.”

“Tell me what’s going on, Simon.”

He frowned, “Someone brought the tape up.” At first, she was confused. Was this something about the movie? Why would he be so upset as to take Hazel’s… “And it’s recirculating again. I’ve been reporting it and fans have been reporting it and it gets taken down, but more and more people have seen it now and it’s just… too much. I don’t want her to run into it…” NOW, she understood. That tape… which… technically… it was done with a webcam, so it was never a tape, it was a recording, but… “I saw it again… not watched it, but you know, saw a portion of it whenever I was reporting it… God…” He sat down on the bed, “You’re a kid, Grace. You had the rounded face and everything…”

“Ummm… You’re a month and a day older than me, Dude.” she said, sitting down, trying to pretend that she was more calm than her heart was allowing. She could barely breathe, thinking about the feelings that just mentioning that used to bring up for her. She wasn’t sure how she might react to seeing it come up somewhere. But, maybe she should try…

She gently took her phone back, despite his struggling. One stern look and he let it go, realizing that she was determined and he was probably already in a lot of trouble, if something had been triggered. She nodded, “Yep, looks like a few people have tagged me, asking me if I saw that somebody posted it…” She went to the video and he clenched the bedspread, moving his legs uncontrollably and looking straight ahead. “You know, a lot of people used to say that you couldn’t see your face in it, that it was out of frame, but it does come into frame a few times…” she said. She paused, “See?” He shook his head. “Simon, you’re not even gonna indulge me a little bit at a time like this?”

His frown deepened and he took another long breath. She was right. SHE was the victim in this. The least he could do was take a look at his disgusting handiwork. He saw himself and he recoiled. “You were a kid, too,” she said. “Sure, at the time, this hurt more than anything my brain can recall. But… I do know, as a grown ass woman, you were wrong and also were a child. Both of those things can be accurate.”

“We’re only a few years older than Hazel, there. If some kid did something like this to her… I would…”

“I would hope that you’d remember that you were their age once and just as bad.”

“Is… is that how you would react?”

“Oh, hell no. I’ve never done anything like this. I’d kill that fucking kid. But, you would have to be the adult that fucking pulls me off of him…” She laughed and scratched at his beard, “But, nothing like this will happen to Hazel. She’s a good judge of character and we know all of her friends.”

“Your parents knew me too, and I think that they’re pretty good judges of character. Your mom at least. She always knew that I was rotten.”

“No she didn’t! She knew that you weren’t rich, and in her head those two things were the same thing. She knew that you were controlling, and she thought that I was going to sacrifice myself for you, but she didn’t think that you were going to straight up try to assassinate my entire character.” He looked away from her, “And NOW, you are very diligent in making sure that you aren’t crossing any lines, with me and with Hazel, my mother, my father, and I think people in general. This wasn’t long enough ago that it’s not hurtful to think about… but it was long enough ago to not beat yourself up over. But… It is a burden that you designed. So, it’s only right that you explain to Hazel exactly why she shouldn’t be online right now.”

Hazel took it so much better than she had taken him taking away her computer and phone. “Are you serious? I’ll just avoid social media. You KNOW I don’t wanna see anything like that, myself, but I already knew that it existed out there somewhere.” She shook her head, “I don’t like the way you look with clothes ON, think I’d run the risk of seeing you without them?”

Grace suggested, “Is there anything else you want to say to him? Maybe about how you broke the news to me when I got home?”

“Oh..” Hazel flared her nostrils and rolled her eyes, “Sorry I called you Mom’s Boy Toy… You kinda are, but I shouldn’t say it…”

Simon laughed, mostly because he was relieved that she wasn’t scarred by him having to talk to her about this video resurfacing. “You kidding? I’m gonna put that on a t-shirt.”

“No cap? Because I have SO many where that came from.”

“We’ve gotta brainstorm.”

“Simpsona T-shirts can be your new thing…” And just like that, Grace watched them be best friends again. Hazel could get mad and stay mad for a long time, but she didn’t like to argue, so even whenever she got mad, she tended to stay to herself until she wasn’t. The two of them left to go sit on the swing set outside of the house they were renting, and Grace sat by her mom on the couch.

“I don’t even want to know what that was about.”

“Cool, because I wasn’t gonna tell you.”

“You don’t have to. One of your “boy toy’s” fans will.” Grace laughed and then threw her head onto her mom’s shoulder. The woman gasped at first, taken aback by the show of affection, but then placed her hand on Grace’s. “You’re a very good mother to both of them. You’ll be a good one to that one too.” she pointed her free hand at Grace’s belly.

“Did you just…?”

“Come on, you’ve been raising yourself a man since you met him and I’ll stand by that forever. Might get it engraved on my headstone.”

Grace cackled, “I absolutely AM NOT raising him!”

“He is literally a life sized puppy that went through a rebellious phase where he kept biting you!”

“Well, I finally realized that I have the power to curve that behavior… and trust me, Mom… It’s not something you’d do with somebody you’re raising.” Grace stuck her tongue out.

“Get off of me you scoundrel!” Her mother joked. Grace just laughed and held on tighter. The woman put her arm around her. “Are you okay, Darling?”

“Whenever I was hurt or scared as a little girl, I was more afraid of admitting it to you and Daddy. I would be more hurt by the thoughts of how little you would think of me if I openly showed imperfection. Not feeling that way took a long time and a lot of work. So, now, if I have a hard day, I’m not too proud to lay on my mommy and say so.” She looked to gauge her mother’s reaction. She was always speechless whenever Grace got emotional.

She’d never learn past those suppressing ways and it amazed Grace that her mother didn’t realize how much her and Simon were alike in that way. Simon had to work really hard at it and her mother was too proud and pampered to put in such effort. But, whenever Grace booped her nose, the woman’s eyes flickered amusement, ever so slightly. Now, she pushed Grace off of herself and opened her arms to receive Montanus. “Take a photograph of me with my children,” She told the nanny. “One with the two human ones, then we’ll add the new fur baby…”

She still hadn’t made any announcements about her status with Simon, nor had she spoken about her pregnancy outside of the maternity blog by the time Valentines’ Day rolled around. But, one thing that she did was allow for Simon to share maternity photos. That was her “gift” to him.

There. Were. Tons.

Simon took photos of everything. He had a copy of every ultrasound. He had an electronic journal of every detail that came up. So, whenever he posted the album “Countdown to Ivory’s Arrival,” he had more photos than most of the fans were probably going to look through. Therefore, he left many of them private, with only close friends able to view, and the ones that were public were his favorites of the candids of Grace being pregnant and gorgeous, some of the ones from photoshoots that she would post, and the professional maternity photos that they had taken so far. They took some each trimester, as a family.

The ones at her three month mark were taken in New York, early November (around their anniversary, whenever he was in town. They had fall colors and all three of them were absolutely stunning. Hazel was impressed with how well that Simon cleaned up, so much that whenever he showed her older photos of himself, she thought he was a different person. She had no idea how right about that she was. Simon being both subservient and also a mega diva himself was absolutely salivating every time Grace did something, but also, it was him who insisted, "We have to have a photoshoot each trimester, each with a different theme.” She agreed on the trimesters, but wasn’t feeling the theme part so much. She told him that they could simply have the season be the theme.

They had three changes of outfits for each set. Grace had a gown made much like the one that she had worn to the fall festival in 9th grade (the one that the Idol Princess’ gown was very heavily based on, the one that Simon had taken photos of her in, getting her first beauty deal underway), one that Simon saw her in and immediately began crying. “You’re… gonna ruin the photos,” Hazel told him.

There were candid ones of him crying. Her favorite was one where he was crying, Grace was trying to comfort him and Hazel dropped in front of them, bombing it with a prison pose and her tongue out. She had on a yellow pantsuit with fall leaves in her hair, her signature look being wearing leaves in her hair. Simon’s yellow suit was similar to hers, but way more expensive and the red accents, instead of the orange ones that Hazel elected.

The orange outfits were Hazel in orange overalls, Grace in a romper and Simon in a jumpsuit that Hazel insisted was “the most expensive prison wear in the world.” The red ones were regal matching dress attire, Grace in a two piece dress to show off her belly, Hazel in the same floor length evening gown, but one piece, and Simon in a red suit, made of the same material. Hazel’s hair was down and flowing. Grace’s was gathered up, with most of her afro pulled forward, cascading out of the jeweled red head dress she wore, and Simon’s usually (these days) flowing hair was pulled into a ponytail, with the undercut showing. He was generally self conscious about it, but Hazel put little red jewels over his scar, so even though he was still anxious about his hair, he was proud of her accessorizing enough that he wanted to confidently show it off.

The six month ones were taken in January, and done in all white, which Hazel said, “Looks fabulous on mom and me, but you look like the abominable snowman,” to Simon, on the day of. They were in California by that time, but took a little trip to the mountains because the Monroes had property there that Simon remembered had beautiful scenery that he wanted to have family photos at.

They did all white shots and winter blues.

Whenever Simon posted them on Valentines’ Day, Hazel joked in the comments, “I still say that we need to crop your face out.”

People loved the maternity photos, noticed that Grace did NOT have any on her page and she didn’t comment or react to any on Simon’s page. (Yes, these people pay entirely too much attention to the lives of celebrities that they didn’t even KNOW), but someone did some investigating and found Grace’s pregnancy blog. So… even though that was mostly a completely different following, others stormed into the space, thinking that FINALLY, some place where Grace has actually been interacting and will interact with us. She literally ignored anybody that wasn’t asking about helpful tips for their own pregnancy or giving her helpful tips and the title changed from, “Grace in Maternity” to “Y’all Can See This is a Mommy Blog, Right?”

A few people were seething, but funny enough, Grace’s faithful mommy following were more along the lines of, “Wait… You’re FAMOUS, Monroe Mommy???” After that, she had a hoard of moms check out her other life. She enjoyed having more of them in her fan base, though she also had a lot of ones who had always known being like, “Y’all seriously didn’t know Grace Monroe?” and her favorite quote ever on that blog, “Hell, her album is the reason I AM pregnant!!!”

Meanwhile, Simon had been less likely to play around with any of the fans ever since the video thing. He’d made that very clear, and then sort of stopped interacting with them. He didn’t even go through to like people’s comments anymore. Some of them would say things like, “Whoever resurfaced that video, if we find you, it's on sight for making Simon hate speaking with us!”

Sometimes a person would “Lol” and contend, “He’s too busy working on the Esmoroth movie. He’s not here because of the movie not some fuzzy sex tape from years ago.”

Those were the only ones that he’d respond to just to say, “No, they’re right,” and nothing else.

He wasn’t as busy on the Esmoroth movie as he intended to be. He was working on more tech and models for the movie than any other movie things. For one thing, the script was being adapted, and casting was hard. The casting director wanted to get a different type for the Idol Princess, but Simon was extremely firm and clear that the Idol Princess HAD to look exactly as described in the book. “There are parts of the story that are directly related to her looking the way that she does.”

“We can adjust those parts,” the director had said, hoping to appease him.

“The Idol Princess looks like my childhood best friend. Her look is non negotiable,” he had told them. They didn’t believe in non negotiable, apparently, because the girls that were being considered were all much too light. Whenever Simon had rejected them all, they informed him of those girls’ filmographies and their agents and other people said agents represented.. “Maybe they have that type of record because people are hiring them for roles that were meant to be for someone else. Just… give me all of the call sheets for girl characters who auditioned.”

He went through and disqualified half on looks alone (not to say that they weren’t pretty children or whatever, but they didn’t look like the Idol Princess). Whenever he had the stack of dark skin girls, he went through, checking their filmographies and auditions.

He asked Hazel for her opinion and she suggested a name that he recognized from his rejected stack. He pulled it back up and looked at the light skinned girl in the photo, "Do you mean this girl, Hazel?" He wondered.

"Yes! She's a really good actress!"

He furrowed his eyebrows and pointed out, "But she doesn't look like the Idol Princess. The Idol Princess has dark brown skin, tightly coiled hair, full nose and lips, and dark brown eyes. This girl has none of those things."

Hazel shrugged her shoulders, "She's really good though."

"Well… maybe some of these other girls are really good and people just don't want to see them in stuff like this."

Hazel frowned and she asked, "Are you accusing me of favoring her because she's got features like mine?"

"No. I'm just saying that she doesn't look the part. You're usually really good about that kind of thing, Haze."

"Well… I don't know anybody in the age range that looks like the description of the Idol Princess." She folded her arms, "But like you said, maybe that's because people take the easy way out and just get the pretty Black girl that they know of to play a part instead of being true to characters. I've definitely read more books with dark skinned girls than I've seen in movies…"

"Here are some of my choices," he said and spread the sheets out before her. "I think this one has the look, but I think this one had a better audition. BUT, she was auditioning for a background character and this one was auditioning for the Wicked Heiress. Maybe she just didn't have that role in her and should audition for the Idol Princess, so we can know for sure.."

"I think that maybe they should all audition for the Idol Princess again. What if they just didn't believe it would be realistic that they'd get offered a job like this, especially if bigger stars are being considered? Sometimes, I have to talk kids into auditioning for our productions because they're worried that the same actors will win out anyway."

He gave her a side smile, "I think you're onto something, Haze."

Hazel sent out the invites for Grace’s baby shower. Unfortunately, all of Grace’s friends lived elsewhere, so it would be an expensive trip. Fortunately, they had money, so the Monroes could foot the bill for everyone who didn’t just have the means to travel across country for an event.

Meta flew in with Damita from New York the previous week, but he made some business plans to collab with a Cali artist that week, so he was working, as well. Meanwhile, Damita and Grace were spending the week reconnecting and chilling. Shana and Iza came in from Atlanta the night before. Gharrisahn was already in LA for work, so she would swing by the day of. Grace’s parents arranged for Mikayla and Tulip to come down. They were in coach on the same flight that Lucy’s and Lindsay’s moms and they were in first class, so they’d all meet the driver upon landing.

Hazel had on a headset, along with Simon’s assistant and Grace’s assistant, because Hazel had arranged the shower and she wanted to make sure that things went how she meant for them to.

Grace was in a custom made gown that was inspired by Book 3 of Esmoroth and Simon had been at her side simply staring at her for the entire time she had it on. It had been a surprise. A very nice one that he apparently loved. She hired the costume designer for the movie to make her several pieces, but this one was like the one that the Idol Princess resurrects in. Grace was now hip to the lore enough, mainly from paying attention to Hazel’s ravings, and her and Simon’s movie chat.

For the most part, Grace didn’t want to have a shower. All of her friends lived elsewhere, the baby was due sort of close to Hazel’s birthday and she still wanted Hazel to be able to have a party - which she doubted would be able to happen if she waited until after they were born, so she wanted to have Hazel’s birthday party, INSTEAD of a shower and Hazel said, “How about you just worry about slaying everybody in your peak perfection pregnancy, and I’ll take care of the shower?”

With the financial backing of GlamMother, her dad’s big brain, and her own penchant for moments and aesthetics, Hazel tended to be very good at making things come together. She even produced some choreography (Doereography, as she called her pieces), for her and her mother to perform, because, yes, Grace was good and swollen by May, but she also could still do mostly everything that she was doing before with that additional bundle. It did throw her balance off a little and she couldn’t lift Hazel at the moment, but she kept up with every step of the Irish step dancing that Hazel put into the choreo, and she absolutely could still nail every Haitian movement. Hazel wanted to make a birthday choreo with ties to her heritage, and Grace was always very supportive of her doing anything that made her feel connected to her identity.

For good measure, Hazel looked up cultures from Grace and Simon’s heritages too. She was most accustomed to American jazz/hip hop and ballet. She started at 6, with Grace and when they were apart, Grace used to make instructional videos and post them just for Hazel. Whenever she was 10, she started to tap, and all of the other things in between, she and Grace perfected, and whenever she really wanted to nail something, they’d call in a world class trainer.

Hazel felt that a world class trainer was needed for the baby shower. Grace very much so disagreed. So, Hazel got her grandmother to get them. “Next time, simply come to me first,” the woman had said.

Hazel opened up with one of her raps. Her mom’s friends (as always) got their entire lives whenever she would flow - which was possibly the reason that she honed her talent, if she thought about it - and even Simon would be into the groove with things. He didn’t have the best rhythm, but he certainly always looked way taken up with her talent. Grace bouncing around with a round belly was everything in the world to Hazel, and when she was done, she waddled over to hug her.

They played games, did some traditional shower things and some new things too, that Hazel consulted with celebrity event planners for. When it was time for gifts, Grace froze, looking at the way that everything flowed. It was like her 16th birthday again and she felt like she might have a panic attack. “Grace… It’s okay,” Simon said. She looked at him on the other side of the tete a tete and he smiled, “I learned my lesson. This is straight up simply tribute.” He kissed her on the forehead and she calmed down to receive gifts and cry about everything, but manage to not look ugly doing so, because no matter how comfortable she had gotten over the years, that was still engrained in her as a huge no-no.

Winding down from the party, she found Hazel and her friends at the photo booth, having switched out their baby shower outfits for their birthday party outfits. “Where’s Simon?”

“Bullying people about their gifts,” Hazel said nonchalantly.

“Oh God…” Grace raced over and smiled, “Hey… what’s uh… what’s going on?”

Mrs. Monroe stood behind Simon with her arms folded and Mr. Laurent was in front of them. Simon answered, “Well, I’m giving people things back that went against the specifications for the list.”

“I don’t remember making specifications for the list.”

“You wouldn’t, because you didn’t, I did. You aren’t particularly great at meticulous things and you don’t pay attention whenever I’m telling you plans like these,” Simon said.

“We’re not gonna send a gift back with the person who gave it to us.”

“What are we gonna do, donate it to charity? Because I am not putting this together for our baby. This company uses…”

“Thank you, Mr. Laurent. Thank you for coming and thank you for this gift.” She gave the man a pat on the hand and smiled at Simon. He was still frowning, along with her mother. “You’re backing him up, now?” She got flashbacks of whenever they used to gang up on her and she was very salty that she had to defend MR. LAURENT of all people against the devastating team and Simon and her mother could be.

“He specifically said nothing from that company ON THE LIST,” her mom said, beginning a tirade against this man, with her and Simon taking turns on letting him know exactly how he’d fucked up.

“Their product is cheap and substandard.”

“They’ve decimated the supply of the people in the area they harness things from TO make cheap product.”

“And they use slave labor!”

“Child slaves.”

“OKAY! Okay… That’s a good company to boycott. But hear me out… Mr. Laurent is a simple man who shops at like three places and definitely doesn’t look up things like that,” Grace said.

To which Simon and Mrs. Monroe both reminded her, (loudly) “It was on the list!”

“I made it clear which companies we weren’t accepting gifts from!”

“It’s already bought.” Simon was going to continue complaining, but Grace took his hands and placed them on her belly and he immediately softened up and stared at it. “This is the most important thing, right?”

He looked up at her and cupped her face, shifting himself to touch foreheads with her. Hazel appeared out of nowhere to bomb the photo that they weren’t even expecting Lucy to take.

“Wait, that was it?” Grace wondered. Let’s be clear… she did go through a lot of pain and it was a tough time in the birthing house, even with Simon right beside her and Hazel, her mother and her best friend nearby. But… it felt like there should be something else happening or that something was missing, that she had neglected something, or like something didn’t happen that was supposed to.

She supposed that she had simply set her expectations so deeply into the thought of pain, struggle, blood, sweat and tears, that when it came… her imagination had actually run wild. Simon had kept telling her she was doing well and how he was proud of her and other affirmations. He was holding the baby now while she was being cleaned up.

“Did everything happen?” Grace asked.

Hazel went over the checklist with her. Yes. Everything happened. “Did I pass out?” No. She was awake. She was there for every grueling minute. It just was a different experience for her than what her mother described, than what she read and interpreted.

The professionals explained to her how her birthing went relatively well, what to do next, etc. Charlotte, from the center, even talked to her about how it’s not only different for everyone, but how all four of her own pregnancies and births were different from the last. Grace was expecting something terrible to happen within the first few days, just because it didn’t seem like everything had happened! The paranoia died down on day 3 and she simply was back to cuddling with her new baby.

They looked like her, so far. Hazel made them a stuffie of a potato in a diaper… the baby just looked like a potato. She didn’t know how else to express that. Simon worshipped them. He was constantly holding them whenever Grace wasn’t. He was close by whenever she fed them. He took so many photos on his phone that within days, he surpassed all of the ones he had of Monty from the past several months.

NONE of those were going online any time soon. Grace had only posted a few days after giving birth her experience with having done so. She bounced back so quickly and looked so effortlessly beautiful that some people were claiming that she had been trolling and was never actually pregnant. She found that funny, but it also was her cue to duck away from the Internet for a while again.

The first month of Ivory’s life, they were for the most part a quiet baby. Simon frequently worried that something was wrong, checking, rechecking, then coming back and checking again that they were breathing, awake, happy, etc. Grace was more like, “You’re so gross. Look at you! Drooling all over everything. Little slobbery monster!” She spoke in a high pitched voice that made Ivory smile and kick their little legs around.

“GRACE! Don’t say that!” Simon insisted. “You’re gonna make them feel bad.”

“No way! Ivory’s a tough little cookie, like their Mama. I gonna bite you, Cookie! Mama gonna bite you!” Then she playfully nibbled at their feet and hands.

Simon studied the baby for a while and determined, “They seem to be enjoying it.” He would then relax a little.

Hazel was the only person allowed to post photos of Ivory, and comments were always closed. The first one was on Hazel’s birthday. She was in a sundress, tanned a little more than usual and Ivory and she had on matching rompers and sunhats. “Ivory came 13 days before my 13th year. They really said, “I’ma be 13 too, Sis.” Look at them. Tiny. Tiny Potato. Sis has your back for life. #taurustribe #jk #idcboutthat #MonroeSibs #Doetography #HouseLaurent

And there it was. All that anyone needed to see. You honestly couldn’t tell what the baby looked like, but how could anybody doubt Hazel’s hashtag “House Laurent?”

Simon sort of liked having a private family. He wasn’t sure why he had been so eager to have people acknowledge things before. Even one year ago, he needed for somebody, anybody to know that he slept in the same bed with Grace Monroe. He needed for her to say “I love you.” He needed to hear Hazel call him “dad.” He still loved those things, but he had everything he could have ever wanted… it just looked different than he thought it would.

Why did he want to “take care of” Grace for so long? She was caoable of taking care of herself, probably better than he was of himself. She had talents (was ALREADY back to working on new dances with Hazel and new music), qualities… God… that smile made him weak… She had several other things too, but if he sat there making a list, he’d be there for a while, and he COULDN’T be there for a while, because Ivory was six weeks old and Grace told him that he could take them with him to work.

He began strapping the baby into the stroller… “Are you… where are you trying to take my baby?” Grace asked.

“My calendar says that they’re six weeks old. I can take them to work with me.”

Grace put her hands on her hips and Simon frowned. “You said it. I have a recording of you saying it.”

“Well, I said that we shouldn’t take them anywhere before six weeks…”

“And I set my calendar,” Simon completed the thought and pulled the diaper bag onto his shoulder. “Abigail is bringing Monty, so they’ll have a play date.”

“Oh, she is?” Grace asked, toweling herself down. “Hold on. I’m coming.”

“Grace, I’m gonna be late!”

“I’m not letting you go be a Daddy sized snack with TWO cute babies on you with a cute, perfect bodied nanny with no friends!”

“I don’t think she’s all that cute and I have no idea what her body looks like!”

“It doesn’t look like she pushed a baby out of it six weeks ago!”

“NEITHER DOES YOURS!”

She came into the room, changed up and smiling, “Awww. That’s so sweet.”

“How did you?” She looked perfect. She looked perfect and she couldn’t have taken any longer than five minutes. And she thought she had anything to worry about? But, he wasn’t complaining. If he had Grace and the baby around, that was just better, all around.

“I’m staying here,” Hazel told them and continued dancing in the mirror.

Grace was standing on the scooter, with Simon behind her, sporadically kissing her on the neck every now and then, making her smile and gush. Whenever they pulled into the studio Simon took the baby out, which Grace noticed was wearing an oversized heather gray, “Proof he got lucky with Grace Monroe” onesie. “Simon! What did you…?” She gasped and saw that he had a shirt, the same color that read, “I got lucky with Grace Monroe.”

“In my defense, you weren’t supposed to be here today!” Simon told her.

“How many shirts and onesie sets did you buy?”

“Not a lot. I bought WAY MORE t-shirts than I did onesies.” She fell behind a little and the back of that man’s shirt said “Grace’s Babydaddy.”

“Simon…”

“In my defense… You were right there whenever I walked out of the house wearing it.” She laughed. “It’s just in the studio. I’m working on some mechanics. There’s not gonna be cameras on me or anything.” She was still pouting. “I know that you’re super secretive, but I’m sure that most of the people who give a damn about what we do already know that this is indeed my baby…”

“It’s not that.”

“Well, what is it?”

“Ugh. I wanted to do this whole reveal thing for you on Sunday! I was gonna make this long, sweet post and open my comments and EVERYTHING. Now, I feel like it won’t have the same effect…” His eyes were already all watery, just from her THINKING about doing so.

“Sunday is Father’s Day…”

“Yeah. I can keep my own secrets. Not tell people about my pregnancy or who I bone or how I share time with my daughter or whatever, but I didn’t plan on making you stay in the shadows of my spotlight for the rest of our lives, especially when it comes to this. You’ve been an immense pain in the ass, but you’re a wonderful father and I figured it’d be a good… coming out of sorts for me to acknowledge that on that day.”

He cradled Ivory closely, “You can still do that.”

“Well, you’ve announced it all over your clothes and also… I just told you the entire plan!”

“I love knowing plans!” Simon said. “Here.” He took off the shirt and threw on his hoodie, which it was too hot for and then they changed the baby’s onesie too. “I sort of want to eat it up whenever people actually find out from you that I am indeed, who you bone.” She laughed. “This is the best spoiled surprise that I’ve ever had!”

“Well… I didn’t tell you ALL my plans, so there’s still stuff to look forward to.”

“Yeah?” He asked, casually as they walked inside.

“Mmm hmm.”

“Can I have a hint?”

“Something that starts with the letter P.” Simon turned red and she smiled brightly.

“Uh. Didn’t put THAT on your calendar, did you?”

His lip dropped, “I DIDN'T!” He frowned, “In my defense… we don’t really do that enough for it to have been something I was counting down to.” He smirked, “But every time we do…” He raised his eyebrows and smiled at her. She bit her lip and shook her head, “Nope. Sunday. You aren’t gonna beard break me, Mr. Laurent.”

#If They Didn't Get on the Train #AU Infinity Train #Infinity Train #Nesha Fanfiction #Infinity Train Fanfiction #fics

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moodyvalentinestories · 5 years ago

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Something Just Like This Series: Part 5 – If It’s Not Too Late | Thomas Hunt x Rachel Fields

Somewhere in the back her mind, she knew this wouldn’t solve anything. It was a terrible, terrible idea, but it didn’t matter. Not right now.

Warning: This should come as no surprise but they’re dancing the devil’s tango again in this one so... NSFW! Mature! 18+!

Summary: It’s time for some kinda angry post-break-up sex... and maybe a little bit of talking. Or a lot of talking.

Pairing: Thomas Hunt x Rachel Fields

Word Count: ~ 2,200 words

Notes: I was going to finish this, like, seven hours ago but my first Celtic Studies lecture (am I excited? Hell yeah!) is tomorrow and I had a bit of preparing to do soo... that. Buuut I managed to finish it so there you go.

Also, I’ve decided to add one more part to this series after this one because... I’ve got some ideas for Ryan and Addison soooo that should be out either tomorrow or the day after that.

❥ Moodyvalentine’s Masterlist

❥ Something Just Like This: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | Epilogue

He let out an inhuman growl before he let his lips crash down on hers in a hungry kiss and slammed her body into the nearest wall. The woman had led him – him! The Thomas Hunt! – on an emotional rollercoaster from day one. From frustration to anger to hatred to desire to love and right back to frustration. And as all of them mixed together, as he was unable to distinguish between them, there was only one thing he could do. He wanted to break her.

And she him. She felt much the same way about the bastard who had turned her entire life upside down; the bastard whose mere words made her feel like she was on top of the world one moment, and reduced her to a whimpering pile of nothing the next. Never in her life had she felt such strong emotions for anyone and she couldn’t believe that this bastard of a man had turned out to be the one she’d feel them for.

“You want to say that again?” Thomas growled against her lips as his hands ran down the sides of her outrageously sexy body until they found her hips.

“Gladly,” she said between kisses and started pushing his jacket off his shoulders. “You’re a fucking asshole. And I hate you.”

He let his jacket fall to the floor, not giving a care in the world about how filthy this elevator must have been, and hoisted Rachel up. Instinctively, she wrapped her legs around him, pulling him closer.

“Good,” he said, though it came out as more of a moan at feeling her warm body pressed against him, and moved his mouth down to her neck, sucking and nipping. He didn’t much care that he’d be leaving a mark. In fact, he wanted to leave a mark. “At least it’s mutual.”

Lips parted slightly from the feeling of his mouth against her skin in all the right places, she got to work on the buttons of his shirt, which turned out to be harder than expected as she wasn’t able to see what she was doing, so she started ripping at them. The sound of multiple buttons hitting the metal walls, then the floor echoed through the small space.

In an instant, Thomas’ hands had grabbed hers and pinned them against the wall, and he removed his lips from her neck to glare at her. “That was an expensive shirt.”

“I don’t care,” she hissed and rocked against him, making his glare disappear.

“Fuck,” he groaned, hips jerking involuntarily.

She grinned as she leant in, her lips brushing his ever so slightly. “How eloquent.”

Dear lord, she was insufferable. Everything about her was. The way she exasperated him with her words, the way she moved against him, the way she made him feel things he’d never thought he would again, and – most of all – the way she made him forget himself whenever he was with her. Goddamnit, the woman was the last thing he needed in his life – and yet, the only thing he wanted. He captured her lips again in a desperate kiss as he let go of her hands and moved his own to her thighs, letting them slide under her dress.

She was glad his lips were still on hers or else she would have been the one cursing now, as his hands burnt hot on her skin, moving higher and higher, until they reached the thin fabric of her panties that clung to her dripping wet centre. She gasped when she felt his thumb press against her lightly, and he smirked triumphantly before tugging at the fabric.

Rachel unhooked her legs from around him and, wobbly as they were, put them down on the floor to step out of her underwear. As she did, she heard him fumble with his belt before his pants, along with his boxer briefs, fell to the floor with a quiet thud.

Impatiently, his hands grabbed her hips again, lifting her up and pushing her back against the wall as he slammed into her, finally, finally, feeling her again.

God, I’ve missed you.

He hadn’t noticed he’d spoken aloud, not yet, but she heard the words loud and clear, her heart nearly leaping out of her chest. Me too, she wanted to say. But she didn’t. She couldn’t. “Just shut up and fuck me.”

And he did. He didn’t even try to be gentle this time around, his thrusts hard and fast and unrelenting. Her hands flew up to grip his shoulders tightly, holding onto him for dear life as she arched into him, her hips trying to meet his rhythm.

It had been just over two weeks but it felt like an eternity without him and all she wanted – all she needed – was to feel him again, within and without. Somewhere in the back her mind, she knew this wouldn’t solve anything. It was a terrible, terrible idea, but it didn’t matter. Not right now. All she could care about was him, and how good it felt to have him inside her again, and –

“Thomas!” she yelped as he hit that one spot within her, her nails digging into his shoulders. She was drawing blood, felt the wet warmth under her fingertips, but she didn’t care.

Neither did he. Because his name from her lips was all that mattered and he – selfish bastard that he was – wanted to hear it over and over and over. “Say it again,” he said, thrusting into her harder. “Say it again.”

She didn’t want to give him what he wanted, but it was him, only him, that could make her feel this way. Only him that could have her like this, raw and wild and unable to control herself. Only him. And so she screamed his name again and again and again until hers fell from his lips like a prayer as he came, taking her right with him.

It was an overwhelming high, and coming down from it shattered her. Because the ecstasy made way for all the feelings – all the anger and the grief – that were still there and couldn’t simply be fucked away, and she felt tears streaming down her face almost immediately.

Thomas didn’t notice at first, his head buried against her shoulder as he tried to recover from his intense orgasm until he finally felt steady enough to slide out of her and set her back on the ground. As he did, he felt her teardrops fall onto his skin and, looking up at her distraught face, began to panic. Shit.

“Rachel,” he whispered, for fear his voice would fail him if he tried to speak normally, and lifted a trembling hand to her cheek.

She ducked under his arm, moving past him to pick up her panties and put them on again, her back turned to him. Never in her life had she felt so… ashamed. She was such an idiot! “Don’t. Just don’t.”

“Please, tell me what’s wrong,” Thomas begged, his chest tightening at the mere thought. “Did I… did I hurt you?”

“No,” she said. Of course, that was a lie. And she was so, so tired of lying. To herself, to him… “At least not physically, if that’s what you were asking.”

He let out a small sigh of relief, though he still felt terrible. He’d known sending her away had hurt her, but hearing it from her was an entirely different thing. “I… I never… I’m sorry.”

“You don’t get to be sorry,” she said, closing her eyes for a moment before turning to him. “I won’t let you apologise. I won’t forgive you. Because I am sick of your excuses.”

“I’m trying to do what’s right for you!”

She let out a humourless laugh. “And what would that be? Breaking up with me? Fucking me in an elevator? Please, tell me.”

“I…” He faltered for a moment. “I’m sorry. This was a… temporary moment of—”

“I swear to God, if you say weakness, I am going to kill you,” she snapped at him, then took a deep breath. “No matter. I’m done. I get it now. You’re exactly the egotistical asshole everyone says you are.”

“Egotistical? Letting you go was the least egotistical thing I’ve ever done in my entire life!”

She huffed. “You know, the worst part is that I know you actually believe that.”

“Because it’s—”

“No, Thomas,” she interrupted. “It’s not the truth. I told you, over and over, that I’m fine with this. That I don’t care if you can’t take me on the perfect date because just spending time with you is enough for me. This isn’t about me at all.”

“But—”

“Let. Me. Speak,” she said, staring him down. “This is entirely about you. Because you can’t stand that you’re not perfect. You said it yourself – I’m your dirty little secret. And you – or this idealized image you have of yourself – can’t have one of those. So you push me away, tell yourself that you’re being noble, but you’re just a prick. And that’s fine. It is. Because you’re right about one thing. I do deserve better.”

He wanted to tell her she was wrong, that he had never even thought about himself, but his words got stuck in his throat. What if she’s right? Deep down, he knew she must have been. And here he’d thought he couldn’t feel any worse. “I’m sorry.”

“Look, it’s… I told you, it’s fine. Once we get out of here, you won’t have to see me again.” She sighed, chewing at her bottom lip. “There’s plenty of good schools in the area. I’m sure I’ll find—”

“No,” he said, realising the meaning of her words. Every fibre of his being was screaming, urging him to do something, anything, to make her change her mind. Make her stay. He had been such a fool, standing in the way of his own happiness. Maybe it was too late now. Maybe she’d made up her mind. But if there was any chance, any at all, to make it right, he had to take it. “Please don’t go.”

“And why wouldn’t I? Why would I stay? I can get my education elsewhere. Far away from you. Because, clearly, you don’t want me around. Clearly, you—”

The words were out of his mouth before he could stop himself, dying to make themselves heard. “Because I love you, Rachel.”

She froze. No. No, he hadn’t just said that. “Come again?”

“I love you. God help me, but I do.” He needed her to know. He was being selfish again, he was quite aware, but he couldn’t have her walking away from him thinking he didn’t feel the same way… if she still felt the same way. She was awfully quiet, staring at him in disbelief.

Her eyes scanned his, scrutinising them, looking for any sign that this was just another trick, but she couldn’t find one. Staring back at her was a man who was vulnerable, insecure and, most importantly, telling the truth. But she’d been fooled before. “Don’t do this to me.”

“Rachel, I—”

“No,” she said, her voice shaking as the tears that had subsided at some point during their conversation started flowing again. “No, don’t… don’t you say that. Don’t you say that. You can’t just say that!”

She nearly screamed her last words, making Thomas flinch. But he didn’t step back. She’d been fighting for him all this time, he realised. Now it was his turn. “I’m not just saying that,” he said and took a step towards her. “I mean it. But if you don’t feel the same way anymore—” “Damn it, Thomas, you know I do,” she exclaimed. “You know that I love you and that’s why I can’t… I can’t let you do this to me. I won’t let you do this to me.”

He reached out to put his palm against her cheek and, despite everything inside her telling her to swat his hand away, she leant into his touch.

“I shouldn’t have pushed you away,” he said, choking up. “I shouldn’t have let you walk away like that.” He leant in, pressing their foreheads together. “I will spend eternity trying to make it up to you. If you’ll let me.”

Her heartbeat quickened. Who was she kidding? She loved that man like no other and there was no way in hell she’d ever get over him. And he had just admitted to her that he felt the same way. “I don’t presume that means you’ll let me choose what to watch for movie nights from now on, does it?”

He let out a hearty laugh, filled with relief. Yes. Yes.

“I will enthusiastically watch any film, no matter how substandard, if it will allow me to hold you in my arms again.”

He smiled at her, a warmth she had not seen before in his eyes, before letting their lips meet in a tender kiss. A sigh escaped him. “I love you, Rachel.”

The candour of his kiss erasing all doubts from her mind, she finally allowed herself to fully believe it. And as the realisation sank in, a wide grin spread across her face. He loved her. Thomas Hunt loved her. Her.

“Thomas,” she breathed against his lips, so affectionately that he was sure his heart was going to burst any second. “I love you.”

Tags: @lilyofchoices @trappedinfandoms @flyawayboo @alleksa16 @silversparrow02 @hopelessromantic1352

#wherefore art thou my professor #wherefore art thou my student #rachel #hwu #hwu hunt #thomas hunt #professor hunt

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chicksung · 5 years ago

Text

Renegade- A JJK Oneshot

Genre: Hybrid AU, Bandit/Runaway AU, angst, romance, and if you squint, there’s a bit of fluff.

Pairing: Rabbit Hybrid! Reader x Human! Jungkook

Warnings: Crimes, stealing, swearing, a small hint of violence, a dash of anxiety and slowly growing feeling.

Summary: Choi Jae-Hwa is probably the most wanted criminal in her small village. The rabbit hybrid is forever trying to find a safe place to hide, but is always fund by the police. Humans have never shown her any type of respect, even before her family was taken away from her, but when a human bumps into her when she’s running from the police, what’s a bunny to do?

Word count: 5.2k words

Post Date: 22/05/19

Part of the Green Tea and Melodies series

Song: ‘Run’ - BTS

A/N: Hey TaeCups and SugaKookies, I’m so sorry I haven’t been active...like at all. I kinda broke my laptop so I couldn’t get started on this as soon as I wanted to. But, this is a collaboration with the one and only @worldwidebt7 so please keep an eye for an illustrated version of this oneshot. Please enjoy the show!

The Oneshot ll The Comic

“It has recently been reported that that troublesome hybrid, Choi Jae-Hwa, has been apprehended by the local police this morning, let’s hope that they have her for more than 24 hours”

The TV outside of the temporary cell blared on about things happening in the world, which was quite enjoyable, despite the fact that it was muted. The local radio made up for the lack of sound. The shackles around my wrists was nothing new to me. It’s been like this for years. Since my parents had been hunted and killed by a pack of wolves, I have been on my own since I was 11. I remember what happened so clearly.

~10 years prior~

We had gone on a walk in the forest, hand in hand with my parents, Yoona and Taemin. My parents’ relationship baffled quite a lot of people, considering my mother was a bunny hyrbid and my father was a fox hybrid, but they somehow made it work. I ran ahead of my parents, looking at the flowers that grew.

“Eomma, look!” My eleven year old self called out to her, pointing at a Lily of a Valley. My mother walked over, looking at the pretty flora.

“Very pretty, just like you!” She exclaimed, pressing a kiss to my cheek before joining my father once more. Suddenly, I could sense the worry of my mother. She was turned away from me, looking towards the deeper part of the woods. Her ears were at their fullest height and her body was tensing up.

“Honey, are you alright?” My father asked, turning her face towards him. My mother’s coffee brown eyes were scared, terrified.

“We need to get out of here. Now! Jae-Hwa, come on, we’re leaving.” She answered my father before calling out to me. Just as I grabbed my mother’s hand, a pack of wolves jumped out from behind the trees.

“A family I see, a full course meal.” The biggest and clearly the leader called out to the pack and my family, licking his lips. He charged at my father, knocking him to the ground. He started to bite him, first his arms, then his stomach.

“Yoona. take Jae-Hwa and run!” He called out weakly, attempting to bite back to no avail. My mother was about to turn when she was taken out from behind and in the same position as my father. There was nothing I could do.

“Jae-Hwa, run!” was the last thing my mother cried out before she couldn’t do anything but accept her fate. I followed her words, turning on my heel and running away from the scene. I was quite fast for a rabbit hybrid, being able to outrun the female wolves that ran after me. I ran as far as I could before I reached the small village I called home, but this time, returning without my only guardians.

Times sure do change, don’t they? I had been caught up in my own thoughts, not realizing that it was now dark outside. Well, time to execute the plan...again. I always kept a bobby pin in my hair, which it pinned back my fringe. Despite being handcuffed, it was surprisingly simple to grab the sliver of metal. With the bobby pin in hand, I began to pick the lock on the cuffs, hearing a satisfying ‘clink’, telling me I succeeded with step one. I quietly shifted to the other side of my cell before a voice interrupted me.

“Escaping again, I see.” Seungri’s voice rung out across the empty hall. I smiled softly at his voice. Seungri had been the only person who actually bothered to talk to me from behind his own bars.

“You’ve seen me do it so many times, yet you still haven’t told them. I can’t help but wonder as to why. Care to tell me?” I responded, pressing my back against the wall, curiosity getting the better of me.

“I know you only do this to survive, you’re nineteen, you can’t do anything about it, it’s your way of survival.” He called out, leaning forward on the bars that kept him in the small human enclosure. I smiled weakly, before parting my lips to speak again.

“Hey Seungri, thanks...for having my back.” I mumbled sincerely, grabbing some loose bricks on the wall. He smirked and gave you a kind look.

“No problem, kid.” He finished the conversation before heading back to his small bed. Just as I started to squeeze through the small window, a guard began to walk down the hall.

“Hey, what are you doing!?” The structured, wide shouldered man started yelling, pulling his keys out of his pocket and unlocking the barred enclosure. My fight or flight instincts kicked in. If I don’t run, I will possibly be thrown into some sort of pit. Then again, I’m already destined for hell. But I can’t possibly fight this man, he’s probably been through a lot of training and there is no way that someone like me will be able to win, especially a rabbit hybrid. I squeezed my thin body through the bars and dropped to the ground below just as he entered. A cold sweat broke out on my forehead and I could hear my heartbeat in my ears. I’ve escaped this place many times before so this wasn’t difficult to do. Now, where to go now? So I did the only thing I knew how to do since I was 11.

I ran.

I was well away from the small community jail, even though a statement had been issued for my arrest...again. The evening markets were lit up like a Christmas tree and the smell of the food was causing my stomach to rumble. I flipped up my dirty lilac hoodie and tried my best to flatten my ears. I walked into the bustle of the market, chatter and the laughter of the small village children echoed throughout the small venue. My attention was turned to a stall that seemed to be selling baked goods, cakes, bread, pastries, the whole lot. The short and plump woman that stood behind the display table was busy talking with customers and making sure the bread in the small portable oven was burning. ‘She won’t notice if I swiped a few things, will she?’ I thought to myself, taking a loaf of bread from the table as well a blueberry muffin and was reaching for a croissant when the woman grabbed my bony wrist in her hand.

“And just what do you think you’re doing, young lady?” She asked, her eyes piercing holes in my personal bubble. I attempted to shake her hand off but her grip only tightened.

“I asked you a question, now answer me, girl!” She yelled with an authoritative voice, her other hand flicking off my hoodie, revealing my ears. Being one of the few hybrids in town since my parents were killed, people immediately recognized me. A wave of anxiety hit me and once again, fight or flight kicked in. I could either confront the woman and end up being handed in to the police or run with food in hand. The latter seemed to be the better idea, so with a final glance towards the woman, I sped off. I could hear the woman yell something along the lines of ‘You mangy animal!’ but I couldn’t hear her. Some people tried to chase after me, but being an animal with agility, none of them could catch me. I was looking behind me as I kept running through the market, smirking when I saw how far behind me they were. Doing this however meant I didn’t see the figure in front of me. I ran into them, knocking me to the ground. While the loaf of bread stayed in my grasp, the blueberry flew out of my pocket and into a nearby bush.

Well, there goes dessert...

I held my head for a moment to stop it from spinning. Suddenly, a voice spoke and a hand was in front of my face.

“I’m so sorry, miss. Are you alright?” The voice was one that sounded like it belonged to an angel and when I lifted my head, he certainly looked like one. His soft brown hair hung in front of his eyes, his skin was like honey but his most mesmerizing was his big doe eyes. If he had a tail or antlers, I would have mistaken him for a deer hybrid. I slowly took his hand, the break still in my hand.

“I’m fine.” I said coldly. I didn’t let his features get in the way of the fact that he was a human. Humans were ruthless and they cared not for any hybrids, only to lock them up, sell them and mistreat them. I stood up and brushed off my knees and went to walk away from him when he called out to me.

“Hey, be careful. There’s a swarm of people down there looking for someone who fits your looks. I would suggest heading back into town. It’s safer there.” He informed me and smiled warmly. I nodded before brushing past him, walking in the direction that leads back to the village. I climbed the small hill that wasn’t that well lit. I saw the plump woman wailing to a policeman, probably about our ordeal. I smiled to myself, knowing that I escaped their grasp twice today.

Sunrise was always the prettiest over the village. Especially when you are perched on top of the school building roof, it’s where you got the best view. My chestnut brown hair didn’t look greasy in the light and it made the freckles on my mocha skin visible. I loved these times, where I wasn’t constantly on the run from the police, being given stares from parents and shielding me from their children’s vision like I was some sort of beast. I was used to it though. Most people in the village resented or were afraid of me, well, everyone except one. Kim Seokjin, the owner of the local cafe and the person who has known me since I was a baby. Which I was on my way to see. He always supplies me breakfast and never gave up on me, even after I started getting into trouble with the police. I pushed the glass door open, the bell above it ringing. Seokjin’s gaze snapped up from wiping down the breakfast bar/counter and gave me a loving smile.

“Well, if it isn’t Snowy Valley’s most wanted. Welcome back, JaeJae. How have you been?” He announced as soon as he saw me. I smile at my nickname and went to the counter.

“Oh, you know. It was on the radio again. I was able to escape. If they keep putting me in the same cell, they are never gonna learn that I can escape so easily. Although, I ran into someone last night. I’ve never seen him before, but he wasn’t scared of me, nor did he seem to recognize me but he warned me of a search party that was assigned to me.” I explained, my ears turned sideways in confusion. Seokjin smiled and walked towards to the barista coffee maker and started making me my usual, a mug of hot mocha.

“I believe that’s the new kid. He came in here a few weeks ago and introduced himself as Jungkook. He seemed like a nice kid. Said he recently moved in to finally live on his own. He was very quiet and reserved however. He did seem comfortable talking to me. Overheard the news report on you and asked me if I knew you.”

“To which you replied yes?”

“Well, considering you are like my daughter, I had no choice but to say yes. After I confirmed that, he smiled to himself and whispered something about you being adorable.” I blushed at the last comment.

“Jin, stop it. No he didn’t. How old is he, he seemed pretty young to me.”

“Only a couple years older than you, he’s 21.” He looked younger if I was being honest.

“He’s still a human, but a very good looking kid.” I admitted. I watched Jin frown before smirking.

“But not as handsome as me, right JaeJae?” I burst into laughter.

“Of course not.”

Out and about today was quiet, very quiet for Snowy Valley. The reason for this was probably that it was Monday morning, which meant school went back for another week. I wandered around aimlessly before I stumbled across a newly opened bakery. I peeked inside to see a tall, thin woman who seemed to be in her mid-thirties behind the counter, a kind smile on her face. I slipped inside and looked at the assortment of baked goods that chanted my name from behind the sliding glass door. This was one of those bakeries where they were able to be used by the customers. My stomach rumbled immediately.

I’ll just grab a few loaves and some muffins and I will be gone.

I reached for the bread, successfully grabbing without being detected and with a couple muffins stuffed in my pockets, I headed towards the door. That’s when a shrill voice screeched “Hey! You didn’t pay for those!” At those words, the plump woman from last night appeared from the back, rolling pin in hand.

“It’s you again, you feral animal!” She shrieked, running from behind the counter and towards me.

Well, now I was battered, no food and extremely hungry. It was late at night and no one was around. I was in the back alley behind an apartment complex, near the dumpster. My eye was bruised, my muscles hurt and I’m pretty sure my stomach was bruised.

Looks like I’m sleeping here tonight...

I picked up sounds of footsteps but couldn’t be fucked opening my eyes.

“Hey, are you alright?” A familiar voice asked, causing me to open my eyes. My gaze was met by the doe-eyed boy from last night. His eyes were glazed with concern and worry. I scoffed.

“Do I look fucking okay to you?” I spat coldly, crossing my arms over my stomach, only to remember that’s where it hurt the most and hissing in pain.

“Wait, let me help you. I’ll take you to my apartment and I’ll treat you.” He calmly said, grabbing my hand. I ripped my hand from his grip, staring daggers at him.

“Unhand me, human! Don’t touch me!” I exclaimed, trying to get away from him and run, but my legs refused to move.

“Okay, I won’t touch you. But please, you’re hurt and if you aren’t treated, it’s only gonna get worse.” He explained with a hint of concern in his voice, as he knelt down to my height. While my brain didn’t trust him, my body acted according to my heart. I followed him with my head hung low and not saying a word. He led me up several staircases and to a door with the number ‘97′ on the door. He unlocked the door and opened the door for me to enter first. I scowled at him and entered the small apartment. I looked at the dark room, my night vision being one of the best thing in the situation. I heard the door slam behind me and I turned around, my ears pricked all the way up in fear. My eyes grew bigger and a small whimper escaped my lips.

“Woah there, Bugs, no need to freak out. I didn’t mean to scare you.” He smiled, revealing his teeth that looked similar to me. I didn’t realize how much he looked like a rabbit, so much so that it was almost scary. Before a single could escape my lips, he grabbed my wrist and guided me to his bathroom, his grip remaining tight despite me struggling to release myself. He finally reached the bathroom and lifted me up quickly and placed me on the counter, our faces only a mere few inches away. I scowled at him, my bangs covering one of my eyes.

“I can walk myself, you know.” I spat, eyeing him suspiciously as he grabbed ointment and bandages from a cupboard. He only looked at me and chuckled a little.

“It was the best way to make sure you didn’t run away. I can’t let you leave untreated.” He replied, unscrewing the cap from the ointment and instructed me to extend my arms. I still didn’t trust him. My experiences with humans were not pleasant, as my body clearly showed. This was the only way I could survive. I hissed in pain as I felt a cold liquid drop onto one of the scrapes on my wrist, retracting it back as quick as I could.

“That fucking burns!” I shrieked at him, examining the invisible damage. He grasped my wrist and yanked it towards, causing me to growl slightly.

“Stop being a baby, Jae-Hwa.” He commanded, not looking at me at all, but that right now was the least of my concerns.

“How the hell do you know my name?” I hissed sourly, squinting my eyes as I stared daggers into his soul. He finally looked up and sighed through his nose, only to giggle.

“You’re probably the most controversial citizen, let alone hybrid in this village. How could I not know you. I’m Jungkook, by the way. Pleased to make your acquaintance.” He held his hand out for me to shake, but I stared at it before looking at him with my cheeks puffed out.

“Who said you were an acquaintance of mine?” I seethed, my ears flattened against my head in distrust. Jungkook looked a little dejected at my words but I didn’t care.

“Well, you seem pretty comfortable with me touching you, despite what you’re saying, but Jin said you didn’t like humans that much, him being the only acceptance.” His words sung out almost like a melody as he wrapped my wrist in a clean, white bandage. I tensed at his words as my eyes wandered down to my wrist, wearing his sculpted hands guided the bandage around my wrist and the lower half of my palm. He secured the white cloth with some medical tape and grabbed a small plastic band-aid and placed it quickly on my cheek. I was slightly taken aback by his action but didn’t say anything. He looked at me for a second and saw the way my arms were folded across the lower half of my stomach.

“Is there anywhere else that hurts?” He asked, eyes watching my expression carefully. I scoffed and blew my bangs out of my eyes.

“No.” I replied bluntly, lying straight through my teeth. His eyes softened at my words, clearly still concerned.

“Jae-Hwa, I know this may sound weird but, may I look under your shirt?” He requested hesitantly, the fear of rejection smelt so strong, it made me crinkle my nose.

“I-I...fine.” I mumbled in defeat as I lifted my shirt no higher than my middle. A large blue and purple bruise covered the majority of the left side of my stomach, the right covered in red hand prints. Jungkook’s eyes were blown open, clearly terrified at the sight he saw.

“J-Jae-Hwa, how badly does it hurt?” He questioned timidly, his eyes still fixated on the blue and purple flower that was bloomed on my stomach.

“Does it look bad to you, genius? It hurts to even fucking breathe.” I cursed at him, eyes glowing a soft amber before returning to their natural color.

“S-Sorry, that was dumb question, I get it. But can you please stop acting like such a jerk for five minutes and let me bandage it please. If it stays uncovered, it’s not gonna heal as fast.”

Just let your guard down for a one moment, please...

I inhaled deeply and looked at him straight in the eyes.

“Fine, but I’m extremely thirsty and a bathroom isn’t exactly a comforting environment.” Was any place comforting to me?

“Oh, yeah, sure. I’ll make some tea, and then we can just talk, so I can understand you a little bit more.” Jungkook excitedly replied, practically bouncing on his toes. I hissed as Jungkook suddenly placed pressure onto my bruise to wrap it up in a similar white cloth that was around my hand. He secured it and moved onto my left elbow. He squeezed a little bit of ointment on, causing me to hiss in pain again. He wrapped up the disinfected graze and weaved his way out of the bathroom, supposedly the kitchen. I groaned as I slipped off the counter and down the passage that connected the rooms together. I saw Jungkook hunched over the stove, preparing to cups of tea and looked at me as he realized my presence.

“I only have green tea. I hope you don’t mind.” He smiled awkwardly as he placed a teabag in each cup. I smiled to myself, making sure he didn’t see, as I played with the strings of my hoodie. That was when I realized how disgusting I looked and felt. Damn my stupidity for not realizing before he dressed me.

“You alright, Jae?” He asked, using the nickname only Jin called me, hence catching me off guard. Normally, I would have spat a melody of swear words at him, but remembering what he had asked me to do in the bathroom refrained me in doing so.

“I feel disgusting.” I spoke my mind in a hushed voice, embarrassed at my state. Jungkook chuckled before brushing past me and down the hallway, disappearing into his room. This would be the perfect time to escape, however, I remember that I have nowhere to run, the major factor is that, my feet remained rooted to the ground. A few minutes later, Jungkook emerged from his room with a pair of sweatpants, an oversized shirt and black hoodie in a pile in his hands.

“I found some clothes that I don’t wear much so you can change into these for tonight. I’ll wash the clothes you’re wearing now if you want, that’s if you’re staying.” He said in a voice that was almost asking, if not begging, me to stay with him. I took the clothes in my hands, simply nodding and quick-walking to his bedroom. His bedroom was small, but not as small as I expected. I decided not to dwell too much and quickly stripped off the lilac hoodie, the white shirt, ripped jeans and the socks with way too many holes than I was willing to admit. I let the sweatpants sit loosely on my waist, the waistband hidden by the shirt several sizes too big and finally the hoodie. I slipped out of his room and back into the kitchen, where Jungkook placed the two teacups on the table and sat down.

“Take a seat.” He said simply, brushing his bangs out of his face. I followed his instructions and slumped into my chair.

“Now, there’s one thing I want to know, why do you hate humans so much?” He goes straight for the personal question, doesn’t he?

“Personal experiences, I’ve only been exposed to the evil side of humanity.” I said shortly, looking into the cup of cooling tea before taking a sip.

“But why are you so close with Seokjin?” Jungkook asked, lowering his head in an attempt to look into my eyes under my bangs.

“I knew him before my parents died. He was best friends with my father, who introduced my mother to him. He consoled me after their death, and I stayed with him until I was discovered by his landlord, who certainly didn’t like hybrids. He threatened Seokjin with homelessness if he didn’t get rid of me. I couldn’t let him live on the streets so I took my leave from the premises. It was for the best. There, you have your explanation. I steal because I have no money whatsoever, therefore I can’t buy anything, besides, I love thrill of being seen but not so much being caught.” I downed the last of my tea before standing up.

“Thanks for the tea and for treating my injuries, but I have to go.” I said abruptly, not sounding thankful at all. I turned towards the door but before I could leave, I felt a grip on my wrist.

“Oh, no you’re not. You are staying here until you’re 100% healed. It’s too dark and cold out there anyway. Please, Jae-Hwa. Be rational. Just..stay here. Take my room, it’s the least I can do.” Jungkook gave me his big doe eyes, which were utterly adorable that they made me go weak in the knees.

“Fine, but no funny business.” I said flatly, giving in. I brushed past him and entered his bedroom, pulling back the covers and slipping between them and falling asleep.

I didn’t intend to stay as long as I did. I only planned to stay there for two days, but two days slowly turned into two months. I don’t know how I convinced myself to stay, considering I was staying with the species I hated the most. Jungkook was sweet, kind and considerate, despite me giving him the cold shoulder more often than not. He always made me green tea when I had breakfast and the beverage slowly became my favorite taste ever. The days and nights passed quickly but I often went out at night. Tonight, Jungkook insisted that we went to the markets together as he always got the best food for the best prices than he did at the small supermarket we had. With my newly washed hoodie over my head, Jungkook and I stood in a sea of citizens of the valley. My eyes wandered, spotting the woman who caused me the injuries that littered my body. I felt my blood boiling that such a kind looking woman could make such a cruel act. I latched myself onto Jungkook’s arm in an attempt to keep myself from picking another fight with her.

“What are you doing?” Jungkook asked, looking utterly confused.

“Just roll with it, Jeon.” I said, calling him by his last name. I guess we grew closer than I first thought.

“Alright, Choi.” He responded coolly.

He dragged me to almost every stall in the markets, his hands occupied by brown paper bags, filled with a range of different items. He finally stopped at the stall I had been dreading, the bakery stall. The plump woman hadn’t noticed me standing behind Jungkook, clearly blown away by his beauty.

“And how can I help you, sir?” She asked, her voice so sickly sweet, I almost burst into laughter. Jungkook’s eyes scanned the display table before pointing to a loaf of bread and two blueberry muffins. The woman flashed him a smile before grabbing grabbing two different white paper bags, one long one for the bread and a smaller one for the muffins. Jungkook paid the woman and was turning away from her when she finally spotted me. She immediately stopped smiling and her face wrinkled in disgust.

“You filthy animal! What are you going to steal from this nice man? Police! Police!” She yelled, catching the attention of quite a crowd of people. A policeman came running up to the woman, panic written across his face.

“Ma’am, what’s wrong? What happened?” He questioned, watching as the woman broke into fake sobs.

“It’s the hybrid! She tried to rob one of my customers.” She fake cried with a subtle smirk on her face. The policeman saw my lilac hoodie and started booking it after me. My instincts kicked in as I grabbed Jungkook’s hand and started running from the scene. Jungkook exclaimed in surprise, dropping half of the bags, including the loaf of bread. The policeman was hot on our heels as I rounded into an alleyway and climbing on top of a dumpster. The policeman rounded the corner and we were cornered.

“Choi Jae-Hwa, stand down and we won’t need to do anything irrational.” The broad man commanded, his eyes dark and serious. I looked up at the roof above me before looking back to me.

“Jungkook, I need you to trust me for a second. It might seem crazy but we’ll leave with our lives.” I said, my eyes filled with sincerity and uncertainty. I had been so cold to this boy and now, I was suddenly asking him to trust me.

Real smooth, Jae.

Jungkook looked at the officer before looking back at me. I extended my hand, part of me hoping that he would take my word and trust me.

“If it means you’re safe, that’s all that matters.” He whispered and took my hnad. A soft blush crept across my cheeks before I jumped up and grabbed onto an low ledge and pulling myself onto the roof above. I reached my hand down for Jungkook to grab.

“Oh, no you don’t.” The policeman called and attempted to grab Jungkook’s ankle. Thankfully, I was able to pull him up, the officer missing him by less than an inch. I looked into Jungkook’s face, just centimeters away from mine. I walked on the tiled roof of the abandoned building...her house.

“What is this place?” Jungkook asked, looking around before his eyes fixating on the beautiful view of the moon and stars.

“The place I grew up before all of this.” I explained, pointing to myself, indicating my criminal record.

“Why did you give up? Why did you rather have been hated for this than trying to fit in?” Jungkook asked. Silence fell upon my lips before I parted them.

“I’ve given them a reason to hate me. No matter how many wounds were on my feet, I always remember one thing...how to run away. It was the only thing I really seem to remember from my childhood. The first time I shifted with my parents and ran around with them. I know they wouldn’t be happy with what I did, but at least they know I’m surviving.” I smiled sadly, until I felt Jungkook take my hand.

“Jae-Hwa, you don’t have to do this alone, you know.” He said calmly as he looked into my moonlit eyes.

“What are you saying?” I asked, my gaze wandering over his features.

“That I have been crushing on you for far too long. I know we haven’t known each other long, but I love you and I would love to give you the best life I can, even if it means I gain my own criminal record.” My eyes widened. He is really willing to give up his entire life to be with me.

“I-I love you too, Jungkook.” I whispered, looking around. His face moved closer to mine and looked at me with love in his eyes.

“Are you really willing to give everything up?” I asked him, my heartbeat quickening. He smiled with his teeth and intertwined our fingers.

“For you, I’d be willing to give up my life.” He whispered before he pulled me in to kiss him. His lips were soft and sweet, moving professionally across my lips. I broke the kiss and smiled happily.

“What do you say, shall we go cause some trouble?” I asked with a sneaky smile. He laughed.

“Let’s do it, for we are the renegades of the entire valley.”

A/N:This is my first one shot ever. I am really proud of how it turned out and I’m sorry if it’s kinda cringey. Reminder, that this onehsot will be illustrated by the magnificent @worldwidebt7 so stay tuned for that. Until next time, my friends.

~ Kookie’s Cup of Tae

#bts #btsoneshot #btsfanfiction #btshybrid #hybridau #rabbithybrid #jeonjungkookxreader #bangtansonyeondan #worldwidebt7 #collaboration

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artisticflutter · 6 years ago

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Enemy is my Friend - Part One

Hey hey, looks like it’s time to post Secret Santa gifts... and hey there @red-rose-draws, I’m your Secret Santa via @mlsecretsanta. You wanted a very square Enemies!AU and I hope you enjoy~

Also if you have an AO3, I’d love to get that so I can post over there too.

Rating: G Genre: Fluff, Angst, Romance, AU, Friendship Pairing(s): Love Square Summary: According to Tikki, Chat Noir was supposed to be Ladybug’s partner, but it’s just Marinette’s luck when that turned out to be wrong, wasn’t it? Warning: Enemies!AU. Also, there’s a second part to be posted from another POV.

According to Tikki, Chat Noir was supposed to be Ladybug’s partner, but it’s just Marinette’s luck when that turned out to be wrong, wasn’t it?

Her first outing as a superheroine all those months ago definitely could’ve been better, but Chat Noir’s declaration of being her enemy was just the cherry on top. She asked Tikki over and over just how this could have happened, but the kwami couldn’t go into details. Rules and all, she had said, much like the rule that required Marinette keep her identity secret from her friends and loved ones. Any one of them could be Chat Noir, too.

It didn’t take long for the reality of this fact to change how she handled situations with extra caution.

Still, looking down at him now, him pinned to the ground, her hand twisting his right wrist to pull his ring off, she didn’t expect their confrontation to come to an end like this.

Akumatized victims by themselves were only nuisance, but add Chat Noir to the mix, and they became competition. While he never had any new powers in battle, he was the destruction to her creation - the counterforce meant to be equal in strength with small differences that covered her battle disadvantages. But although he matched her in nimbleness and just barely surpassed her in sturdiness, her cleverness won out in many of their encounters and she came out on top, leaving the feline villain to slip away to fight another day.

However, she didn’t only chalk it up to just her wit.

As determined as she was to stop Chat Noir and Hawkmoth, Chat Noir didn’t seem to take their battles seriously either. Dare she say he even seemed to be anticipating every bout? Maybe she was reading too much into it, but he did have the powers of destruction.

“Why doesn’t he just use Cataclysm on me?” she asked aloud one evening, her pencil tapping her lip. Her sketchbook sat open before her, the supervillain’s face almost drawn to completion.

Tikki halted her cookie consumption and raised her wide azure eyes, a smile playing on her face.

“I know it’s odd considering he’s your enemy, but he has a good heart. I can tell – and I know he wouldn’t have received the Cat Miraculous if he might use it for the wrong purpose.”

“I would say fighting against us is the wrong purpose…” Marinette sighed, leaning backwards in her chair. “Maybe he thinks he’s fighting for something righteous. Do you think if I asked him, he'd tell me?”

“It wouldn’t hurt to try.”

Tikki resumed devouring her cookie and Marinette continued etching mindlessly along the marks she made already: wild hair that gave him an untamed appearance, bright eyes with oval pupils (part of his transformation she assumed), and round cheeks rarely ever down because he always seemed to be grinning or smirking. His features were still sharpening, though, so he had to be around her age.

The more she drew, the more she considered.

Aside from people being affected by the akumatized victim’s power, Chat Noir didn’t seem to like civilians getting hurt. When Stormy Weather appeared, he had had an argument with Aurore because she’d shot lightning directly at park patrons. He also hadn’t approved of her sweeping people away with gusts of wind outside of the TVi studio tower.

And when she had gone on that ‘date’ with Nathaniel while he was Evillustrator, he seemed to have been watching more intently than needed. Yeah, he’d been on the lookout for Ladybug, but when she – just as Marinette – tried to get Nathaniel’s akumatized pen, he’d jumped in before she could get hurt. He even bothered coming to find her a few evenings later to sincerely apologize. And he’d meant it.

“… Weird cat,” she mumbled, staring back at the beaming image of Chat Noir.

Who was the boy beneath that mask?

She found herself coming back to that question with each subsequent encounter.

Though she should be asking him why they were fighting, it just slipped her mind again and again because there were always new questions. Who was this boy fine with people being akumatized, but not letting civilians be hurt during the rampage? Controlled was fine, but injuries were off the table. Rather contradictory; and then, why keep this chase going? She knew he had better combat skills to bring, but he seemed lax using them. Was he going easy on her? Did he find it fun? What was with all the puns and jokes and – dare she say – flirting on his part? Why did she find herself playing into it too? Was that an effect of the Miraculous?

What did Chat Noir want?

When she finally did recall, Simon Says didn’t give her the time to ask. After Tikki had her break into Gabriel Agreste’s safe (why was there a safe behind that painting?) to take some book and a peacock pin, she had formed a temporary alliance with Chat Noir to save Mr. Agreste’s life.

In that instance, things felt right – as if she’d never fought the black cat and it was scary how well they worked. It had been a whirlwind of events ending off with her meeting Master Fu,so she missed the opportunity to ask Chat Noir yet again. Sure, she did ask Master Fu, but his answer was she was better off asking Chat Noir himself.

Maybe she needed to ask herself why she even cared. He was the enemy and she needed to get the Butterfly and Cat Miraculous.

But why did it feel like taking the ring would make her the bad guy?

The holidays came and went, but something was wrong with Chat Noir.

Ever the perpetual smiler in their encounters, his expressions started becoming strained and there was a new, more aggressive approach in his fighting style. If a battle dragged on long enough, his movements would grow sluggish and predictable. That wasn’t all; paling skin, dimming eyes, and he became thinner and thinner. Despite his worsening condition, he was still the most civil villain. Heck, he got her a birthday present after finding out it was her birthday while her Nonna was akumatized.

Was he sick? Would Hawkmoth push him to keep fighting in that condition?

She didn’t want to think about it, but she couldn’t stop thinking about it when he bowed out of a fight or didn’t participate at all, watching with a hand pressed against his stomach from a distance. It was such a distraction that she wasn’t even paying attention to Luka while André served her ice cream. She was so startled she accidentally swatted it, sending the peach and mint green scoops flying. Marinette apologized profusely, but André didn’t seem too perturbed.

“There is conflict in your heart right now.”

“Huh?”

This time, she paid attention as he made the cone.

“Peach pink like his lips and mint green like his eyes! Eat this, my dear, and your love will materialize!”

“My love…”

Accepting the cone, Marinette stared at it unblinking for a few seconds, focused on mint melting onto the peach. Even as the dregs began to run over her fingers, she stood there, feeling her face flare up.

“Is that it? But I shouldn’t…”

“Uh, Marinette?” Luka’s voice cut through her thoughts and she turned her head. Not only was he staring at her, but so were Alya, Nino, Ivan, and Mylène. Normally, that would embarrass her, but she calmly took a few Euros from her pocket to pay André.

“Thank you for the ice cream. Sorry guys, I have to do something.”

She didn’t wait for her change before sprinting off, scarfing down her ice cream and powering through the brain freeze to make it home.

It just had to be a coincidence - she was thinking too much about that stupid cat, the ice cream meant nothing. Her Miraculous wasn’t helping either. Yeah, she was sure. That dumb boy becoming thin as a rail was not her concern – she didn’t have to do anything about it!

It was just the right chance to take his Miraculous and then go after Hawkmoth!

The akuma had been paltry this evening, but it had assisted her immensely by dealing with Chat Noir on their own, though it didn’t have to throw him away like he was rubbish. He was just tired – yeah, that had to be it; that had to be why he hadn’t bothered trying to get up during the fight.

… Had his arm always been this thin?

He struggled beneath her knee – oh god, she could feel his ribs shifting beneath her leg. Before people arrived, she just needed to take his ring – grab it and be done with one nuisance. Pinching his ring and pulling slowly, her leering eyes darted to his sunken face, taking in wide, pleading eyes watering slightly in the corner, the faux ears on his even messier hair folded flat. No longer was he trying to push her off, but he was trembling, gradually appearing much like a kicked cat he embodied. Teeth gritted, his jaws shifted as though to open, but he refused – why did he refuse to speak?

If this was victory, it felt terrible.

He wasn’t anywhere near his peak physical form; and with him, this wasn’t how she wanted to win.

Beneath her leg, she both felt and heard his stomach rumble loudly.

“… You stupid cat.” He wasn’t eating? Was that really the problem? “You owe me one, got it? And don’t you dare try to take my earrings right now.”

“… W-What?”

Once boisterous voice was soft and very shockingly subdued, and picking him up suddenly had him yelping, but she didn’t comment. Yo-yo out, she allowed it to fly, catching a nearby roof and sending them both soaring across Paris.

Was she really doing this? Was she really going out of her way to help her enemy? Well, she supposed she still felt some responsibility because they were supposed to be partners, but watch her luck – she was going to regret this.

Gosh she’d really like him to say something right now. Maybe she wouldn’t be thinking too hard on it, but he hadn’t said a word.

Landing firmly on the patisserie’s rooftop, she placed him in her lawn chair – alright, she might’ve dropped him in a bit more harshly than she meant - hands going to her hips as he gazed upon her in confusion.

“Listen here, Chat Noir. I know you helped the girl who lives here before and she’s pretty grateful. So stay here and maybe – just maybe – I can convince her to give you something to eat. If I’m going to claim your Miraculous, it’s going to be in a fair fight, understand?”

“What? You don’t need to--”

“You say that, but your stomach says otherwise.”

She noticed him flinch when she cut him off, but didn’t have time to ask what that was about. “Bug out, Kitty.”

She didn’t hear him scrambling to follow her as she leapt down and entered the building. Inside the bakery’s kitchen, she transformed back to Marinette, scowling because again, what was she doing? How ever troubled she was, Tikki was glowing.

“I’m proud of what you’re doing, Marinette.”

“Really? I think I might’ve done something wrong,” the girl replied with a groan. “I mean, I brought him back here to feed him. I’m sure if our positions were different…”

“He would likely do the same,” Tikki interrupted, hovering before Marinette’s face. “Even if he’s working with Hawkmoth, you know Chat Noir isn’t underhanded like him. Maybe he lets the akuma do what they must to get your attention, but he never directly harms civilians.”

That could be debatable, but Tikki was right. It wasn’t like Chat Noir was the one akumatizing people or giving them targets. Nor did he ever purposely make anyone fall under the abilities of some past akuma – and when they did fight, he didn’t try involving anyone to make her give up her Miraculous; Hawkmoth did. In fact, with him being on the side lines for many of their recent skirmishes, he seemed to observe with a mild grimace.

“… Maybe I could get him to open up about why he’s doing this,” she started softly. “Maybe, but if he finds out who I am, I don’t want him to feel like I deceived him.”

“When the time comes, you’ll do the right thing. I’m sure!” Tikki bumped against her cheek and Marinette giggled. In the back of her mind, she could only hope no reveal occurred anytime soon. It was time to get to the bottom of who Chat Noir was really.

“So, what shall we feed a hungry cat?”

#ml secret santa #mlsecretsanta2k18 #mlsecretsanta #miraculous ladybug #scribbling do #miraculous!au #ladybug #marinette dupain-cheng #chat noir #ladynoir #marichat #mentions of other friends #enemies!au #red-rose-draws #gifting #tikki

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elliesrandomessays-blog · 6 years ago

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Let's talk about Bowsette as a trans icon.

This post/essay/think-piece/idological-wankery (delete where appropriate) is going to assume you know who Bowsette is. The Bowsette hype train has already come and gone in less than a month so I'm late to the party by this point; if you're reading this some time in the far future for some reason you may want to go do some quick googling as a refresher (might want to keep safe-search on).

Laying my own context on the table: I'm a Trans woman.

The sudden and widespread proliferation of Bowsette has been nothing short of inexplicable. Off the top of my head her rise to temporary dominance in the Mario fanbase is unlike anything before her. The closest two examples that come to mind are Coldsteel the Hedgehog from the Sonic fanbase and Doctor Whooves of My Little Pony fame. But those two characters don't posses the same invisible origins. Coldsteel was a meme, an intentional parody of the fan-creation phenomenon that has lead to the "_____ the hedgehog" game being the most fun you can have with google, and Doctor Whooves (while his personality and backstory are a fan construction) was still based on a background extra who was originally conceived by the show, not its fans. Bowsette's original was in no way directly provoked. The Super Crown was revealed as a tool that can turn Toadette in to Peach, some random twitter user made a standard fan comic where the crown was given to Bowser, and people took to it.

And because we live in 2018, it naturally got sexual very fast. A friend of mine once said "I like Bowsette, but I'm not a fan of the male-gazey-ness" (not quoted verbatim) and that sums it up nicely. There is a lot of porn of Bowsette out there, and now that her icon as a fun novelty character has passed her time as the champion of fan-created erotic pin-ups has begun. Bowsette has become one of the most notable times where a fictional character who is arguably transgender has entered the male gaze as an icon of sexuality whilst not having an undercurrent of fetishism to it. There's no great calling for Bowsette porn where she has a penis. The only ever reference to her Bowser-based past is for some occasional gags which aren't constructed to shame the contrast between Bowser and Bowsette. And the wide variety of the feminine traits and masculine traits in her various portrayals show a very neutral pallet of preconceptions her the artists and fans are going in with. I say arguably because we're only talking symbolically, not literally. Unless we ever got an explanation of the mechanics of Toadette's Super Crown then there's no literal grounding for this analysis. Keep all that in mind, we're talking symbolically.

The fact that no one in Bowsette's fanbase really seems to care about this fact is actually kind of fantastic news for Trans folk out there. The inherent problem with attempting to get Trans representation is one that is hard to talk about seriously thanks to the fact it's the same argument people use for why there shouldn't be representation: it's hard to naturally include it in backstory without making it feel either too-defining or tacked-on. The longterm goal of Trans representation is paradoxically to make our own representation invisible; to try and reach a point where the fact a character could be Trans is textually irrelevant to what the audience is expected to think about them. For example: were there a blockbuster film released tomorrow where a character who presented male is the protagonist, then in a flashback scene the same character were to be presenting as female pretransition and that fact never brought up again, we'd all throw up our hands and applause the representation that we have a Trans lead character, since that is bringing us closer to a world where the exact same setup just makes us go "yeah, I guess".

Bowsette's symbolic transition is a part of who she is, and there'll always been that little pink crown on her head as a reminder of that, but it's not a *defining* part of who she is, and that's what's so important. It's the logical middle step between the seemingly contradictory states of "They're trans, hurrah!" and "They're trans, K." And the fact she's been taken too with both hands (or one hand, with the other heading pants-ward) shows it's working. Nuance often requires we remember that a group is in reality multiple uniquely operating consciousnesses but it's often helpful when wanting to gauge direction to imagine communities as a single person. And in this case the 'person' of society is happy to ignore the whole 'used to be Bowser' thing and just enjoy Bowsette for who she is. This has done wonders for my own self-esteem and I can't imagine I'm alone. Often times I've had trouble thinking of myself as a sexual being thanks to being Trans. Times where I've felt it have always felt *against* that fact, or when I'm lucky *in spite* of being Trans. Even though my partner has been good at reassuring me that they really don't care when it comes to getting freaky and she doesn't think like that; it doesn't stop the fact that media has taught me to think that she can only think of me sexually in the context of being Trans. Bowsette's reputation has been one of the first concrete pieces of evidence that maybe my partner is right and it is perfectly okay for me to be proud of my sexuality without that risk of inherent fetishism.

Of course this doesn't come problem free. Whilst the case for the Super Crown being read as a substitute for transition is one worth considering, it's still an oversimplification of the process to an unhelpful degree. It views the difference between Bowser and Bowsette as a binary state, the whole character shifts from the Bowser body to the Bowsette body with a simple operation. Trans persons in media have always had this concept floating around them that once the decision is made it's a single procedure and you're rockin' an hourglass physique. In reality it's a lifelong arduous grind towards some non-existence idea of what we need to be. Moving from one end of the gender spectrum to the other is not a linear progression but asymptotic, I have to spend the rest of my life with constant injection, pills, procedures and therapies that will forever bring me 'closer' but will never get me 'there'. Embracing Bowsette as-is as a great example of what a symbolically Trans character should be is going to come with a further perpetuation of the simplicity, and I know there will be people out there who won't want to include her because they feel the simplicity problem is bad enough without us accepting a character who's feeding in to it. But as we all know, the capacity for nuance goes down as the size of the group gets bigger and we need to take Bowsette with a grain of salt much like how we need to think of everything more critically than we tend to. That debate is more than worth having.

Obviously I'm not begrudging the existence of Bowsette directly because of this. We're talking about an extrapolation of an extrapolation, we're so far removed from the original intention of the Super Crown that trying to pin any of the negative consequences of Bowsette on the Crown is like blaming the Cow because your White-Chocolate Mocha tastes funny, but it's worthy context to consider when looking at what Bowsette means in the grander scale of where society considers Trans persons.

Bowsette hasn't magically removed all preconceptions of the life of a Transgender person: her sexuality not being considered a Transgender fetish isn't stopping the fact she's still in the 'fetish' category for other reasons, her non-canon nature means that the impact is only indicative of societal conceptions rather than corporate ones where much more of the battle still needs to be fought, and I've somewhat oversimplified how much of the fanbase truly *is* on board with Bowsette (it pains me greatly that the Waluigi fanbase is one of the notable ones with the conservative attitude towards her). But god damn she's interesting, and more than enough for now.

#Bowsette #Transgender

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swans-anime-ramblings · 6 years ago

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10 random facts about me

I was asked by @majinpiccolo to come up with 10 random facts about me. I tried to think of interesting ones as well as some serious ones. Here we go!

1. I used to be a moderator for the Amino Dragon Ball Z app

If you’re not familiar with Amino, it’s basically if Reddit and Tumblr had a love child. You can only post about the Amino’s topic, (in this case, anything Dragon Ball related) and moderators can “pin posts” to the top of the app, meaning you can submit your blog/ artwork to be considered for feature. I moderated the app for almost 2 years. I absolutely loved the team I moderated with, but everything went to hell in a single day. Sparing the details, the level of toxicity which occurred was so bad the leader of the Amino left, and so did another person. And that made me realize I needed to stop too. Being a moderator means you’re constantly exposed to the worst of the internet. Unsolicited dick pics to minors in private chats, being called “bitch” because some person’s post got hidden, being accused of favoritism and the like. I thought that my leaving would be temporary, and maybe some day I’d go back but...I am free. My mental health is a lot better, lol.

2. I am a contract writer

Basically that means I write blogs for small business owners, do website copy (the text you read on a website) snazzy up people’s Linkedin profiles, and whatever else comes my way. The work is slow coming, but it frees me to....

3. I’m trying to write a science fiction novel

Honestly, it’s one of the hardest things I’ve ever done, mostly because it’s a battle with myself. I am a perfectionist by nature and the standard I set for myself and my writing is unattainable. This week for instance, I was so overwhelmed by all the stuff I “need to fix” that I got nothing done, haha. But I really want to do this...it feels important. It’s been a dream I’ve had since I was little. And so, I keep trying to press forward, even when my mental days aren’t good.

4. When I was a child, my father was diagnosed with a fatal illness society considered taboo

Things are better now for him and society is getting better. But it was a huge burden that I carried, and I mostly carried it alone. I was genuinely afraid if I told my friends my dad was ill (as you couldn’t tell just by looking at him) they wouldn’t want to be around him or me. I didn’t want people to judge him. These days I try to talk about it more, but honestly it’s not something that naturally comes up in conversation. “Oh hey, for most of my childhood I thought my dad was going to die in a horrible way. It really screws with you.” Meds nowadays are much better too, so him dying is not a worry I currently have. He’s in no danger at the present :-) Having a sick parent does alter your life perspective though.

5. My parents are crazy people

Speaking of the rents, they are so...just on a whole other plane of existence that I’ve had SEVERAL people, in different situations all separately tell me I need to write a sit com based on them. Mom is a 100% NY Italian. Dad is 100% NY Puerto Rican. They are unreal. Case in point: one time I took my parents to the beach at night so they could experience a bio-luminescent phenomenon. At 11:30 PM we were walking off the beach and my mother says rather loudly to my father, (in a NY accent) “Well! That was just! I’m telling you, it was better than drugs. And trust me, I’ve taken them! Right babe?! Better than drugs!”

I normally need to sleep for several days after they’ve visited XD

6. I’ve got severe ADD

It’s gotten worse as I’ve gotten older too. Just recently my nephew was trying to get my attention to help him with his juice box and I had no idea. I realized it after his mom came over to fix it for him. It was rather embarrassing. Normally I’m so much in my brain I don’t see what’s around me. I’ve gotten several bruises from running into doors.

7. I’m married

And have been for quite some time. Me and the Mr were young when we got married. He proposed to me 6.5 months after we started dating and we got married 6 months after that. His parents, who are normal, respectable people, thought we were insane. My parents, who’ve I’ve already established as crazy, thought it was wonderfully romantic. In fact my father called me a month after we started dating to ask me to please let him know when the wedding was so he could be sure to buy a plane ticket. I was like, “Dad. We’re not THAT crazy.” We’ve had our challenges like everybody else, but we love being married and are ridiculously happy. Wouldn’t trade our decision for the world.

8. I love video games

Grew up on the SNES and N64, got back into them when I bought myself a Wii. Most time I’ve logged on a video game is for Star Wars: The Old Republic. It’s BioWare’s Star Wars version of World of Warcraft. I’ve got over 60 days of time played, and have been playing since 2013. There’s a new expansion coming in December. I’ll be playing.

9. If I’m listening to music, it’s probably an OST.

I just love OST’s. I think it’s because it lets my brain do it’s weird head in the clouds thing. If I’m not listening to an OST, it’s probably Asain Hip-Hop. Favorite artist is named Tiger JK and he does a lot of stuff with his wife Yoon Mi Rae. Sooo good.

10. I love Japan

I suppose that it’s no surprise but, it’s still the truth. I’ve been to Korea twice and Japan once. I feel really at home there, in a way I haven’t experienced in the couple other countries I’ve visited. The Japanese were so welcoming and so hospitable, I’ll never forget it. Would love to go back at some point.

And that’s a wrap. I now tag @yagamitaichi7! Got any rando facts to share? Only if you want to of course :-)

#about me #ask

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biayahlife · 3 years ago

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Quilting Diaries: Star Gazing

If you follow our Instagram account, you may have seen a photo of a quilting project recently. I’ve finally finished it, and now I get to share the process with you! I’ve been super excited about quilting since I completed my first project last year. I’ve started an EPP project, and I’m still enjoying that. I want to keep building my quilting skills, and I honestly find the process (mostly) relaxing. My first quilting project was really simple – it consisted of sewing strips of fabric together, cutting those groups to size, and then putting them back together. Everything is on the straight of grain, no bias seams, no strange shapes. It’s a super foundational quilting skill. I wanted to make another quilt that would still be a fairly beginner level, but would help me build my quilting skills. After some Internet searching, I came across the Star Gazing quilt pattern by Soft Day Quilts. It’s a low-cost pattern available for instant download from the Soft Day Quilts Etsy store.

Star Gazing is a very straightforward pattern completely composed of half-square triangle (HST) blocks. The HST is another foundational quilting skill. It’s a bit more advanced because seams are sewn on the bias, and stitching accuracy is very important. If your stitches aren’t accurate, the points don’t line up. In this pattern, the HST blocks are large, so the quilt top itself comes together really quickly. The outlined fabric requirements are accurate, and don’t make for much waste. The pattern is really easy to follow, and I would absolutely recommend this pattern to anyone who wants a good beginner quilt pattern.

The “Magic Half Square Triangle” Method

The pattern creator suggests using the “magic half square triangle” method, and she outlines it in the pattern. I’d never made HSTs before, so I decided to try this method. A HST is basically a square comprised of two right triangles. It’s a pretty block on its own, and is used to build a lot of other designs. There are so many methods out there for building the block, but the reason so many people like this method is because you get 8 HSTs out of a single large block. The basics are that you cut two large squares of fabric, lay them right sides together, and draw diagonal lines from corner to corner. Using a quarter inch seam allowance, you stitch a seam to left and right of each line. After that, you make four cuts: one on each of diagonal lines, one running from the top center to the bottom center, and one running from the left center to the right center. You press the seams open, and you have 8 HSTs. If you want more detailed information, complete with diagrams, feel free to check out this article.

I’m not entirely sure that this was the best method for me to use the first time I made HSTs. I chose this pattern because the HSTs used to build the quilt measure 8” square. That makes the quilt come together quickly, but in order to get an 8” square using this method, the initial cuts made 17.75” squares. My cutting mat is only 24” x 18”. I had a difficult time measuring these squares. It was just as difficult to cut them apart, and frankly, bias seams stretch. I ended up having to trim every single block I made. That took a lot of time, and frankly was frustrating. I’m pretty sure that this had less to do with the method and more to do with the fact that my cutting mat is smaller and I had difficulty making accurate cuts in the beginning.

Construction Process

The hardest part of this quilt was building the HSTs. Since this was my first time making HSTs, it ended up being a time consuming process. Once all the HSTs were completed, the building of the quilt top was straightforward and was completed quickly. I really loved the end result. Of note: The original pattern calls for an accent colour. I chose not to do that.

Once the quilt top was completed, I spent some time deciding how I wanted to baste the quilt sandwich. The quilt top, batting, and backing when stacked together and ready for quilting is commonly called the “quilt sandwich,” and basting in quilting refers to any method one uses to hold the layers of the quilt sandwich together. There are a couple of basting methods common to quilting:

Pinning: The layers of the quilt sandwich are held together with pins, typically safety pins. There are some specialty quilting safety pins that have a bend in them to make it easier to push through the three layers.

Spray: There are washable, spray adhesives that can be used to hold all three layers together.

Stitching: A long, temporary stitch is run through the fabrics to hold all three layers together.

In my first quilt, I didn’t want to bother with basting anything. I wanted to get through the process, and the piece was small. It proved problematic later, so this time I wanted to baste the quilt well. I chose to stitch my layers into place because I didn’t feel like buying safety pins and I don’t like using spray adhesive unless I absolutely have to. It’s sticky and messy. Besides, I have a lot of leftover threads from old projects, and I’m pretty sure I’ve had the pink thread that I used for about 10 years now.

While I was looking at various videos about quilt construction and basting, I stumbled across the idea of quilting with a small cross stitch while watching a video about basting by the Fat Quarter Shop and Jen Kingwell. I am still fascinated by the idea of hand quilting, but I’m intimidated. The method Jen Kingwill shows in the video was interesting to me because it felt accessible. The Star Gazing quilt is a fairly small quilt, so I decided to try this method. We found a pretty golden yellow quilting thread and thought it would look like small pricks of starlight all over the quilt. I’m quite pleased with it over all. It did take longer than I thought it would, but was much less time consuming than more traditional forms of hand quilting. Once that was done, I was able to complete the binding – still my favourite part! I’m really pleased with this quilt over all. It’s just the right size for curling up with a good book or mobile game.

What I learned:

I liked the “magic half square triangle” method. It’s pretty efficient. Next time I want to use this method, I’ll make sure that I can easily cut out the large squares on my cutting mat. I also did end up purchasing square quilt rulers with a coupon at our local craft store. These were really nice because they have the 45-degree line marked on them. It made the trimming MUCH less terrible, and showed me what bits of my stitching needed some additional work. Since bias seams stretch, I did notice that not all my diagonals were perfectly straight. Again, I think that had a lot to do with the size of the initial squares. I’m pretty sure I would prefer to make more squares than less. Sure, it’s more seaming, but I think I could have been able to be more accurate. These small inaccuracies made it so that I had a difficult time aligning points, but hey, it’s meant to be used. I’m embracing the mistakes because life is too short to sweat the small things. I’ve learned a lot, and I’ll get to apply that to the next project.

Basting is incredibly important! While it’s a time sink – it took me several hours to work out a basting method that worked for me. It made the quilting process much easier. I had confidence that my layers wouldn’t move around, even when I put the quilt in a hoop for quilting. I think that maybe next time I will knot the ends of my basting threads, even though its not necessary. Some of the tails got in the way while I was quilting. I did end up having to snip a lot of threads, so I don’t have long lengths of thread that I can reuse.

Hand quilting is absolutely accessible to me! I’m very excited about this. If you’ve read my other posts, you’ll know that I am intimidated by hand quilting. It’s so beautiful and just felt like something I couldn’t do. While this wasn’t traditional hand quilting, the needle technique is the same, and I feel more confident in trying more hand quilting in the future.

My biggest take away from this project is that I’m not sweating the small stuff. This quilt is FAR from perfect. I’ve continued to research various construction and technique tips and tricks while this quilt has been in my project queue. There are legitimate mistakes in this quilt. I could have spent hours, days, or weeks trying to correct them, but that would be counterproductive. This isn’t a project meant for display. The intent was to create an afghan sized quilt that could be used regularly. I achieved that goal. I’m not looking for perfection, and I’m pleased with the quilt I produced.

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lolbtsaus · 7 years ago

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Territory (Werewolf!Jungkook)

Plot: A relationship between hunter!reader and werewolf!Jungkook

Part: One, Two, Three, Four, Five, Six, Seven, Eight, Nine, Ten, Eleven, Twelve, Thirteen, Fourteen, Fifteen, Seventeen, Eighteen, Nineteen, Twenty, Epilogue

Word Count: 1412

A/N: so here is part sixteen, aka the homecoming, also this gif does relate to the writing but f u c k that is a good look how the hell does he look so good in just a black hoodie and when his hair does that thing, I want to throw my fucking laptop out the window but the link for this is werewolf!Jungkook (here)

The car ride was long, your limbs were sore and you felt groggy from your restless sleep, waking up every time the car stopped. You knew Jungkook wasn’t fairing much better, rolling his neck out every now and then, cracking his knuckles when the car was stopped. By the time you saw the familiar structure of his family home, you couldn’t have been more thankful, ready to climb into his bed and fall asleep. And you did exactly that, promising his family you would explain everything and answer their questions afterwards, the both of you falling less than gracefully onto his bed, your eyes shutting the second your heads hit the pillow and not reopening until the sun had gone down and come back up again.

You were bombarded with questions, about the hunters, about your trip, your stay, Jungkook’s father mumbling some less than kinds words when he heard about the hunters attacking Jungkook. Most of their questions were aimed towards you, their main concern being the fact that their son had been just a few minutes away from death when you’d run away. They wanted to know how to stop it, they wanted to know if Jungkook’s father should go arrange a deal, if there was some sort of bounty over your heads now. They seemed to jump over the fact that you were a hunter, with Jungkook’s father making some comment about how he wouldn’t forget you after what you’d for Jungkook, twice now.

Truthfully, you didn’t know any of the answers. There was a large possibility there was some sort of bounty, you wouldn’t have put it past your leader to set one. You didn’t know if they still wanted Jungkook dead or if they just wanted you at that point. You were sure their pride was much more wounded by one of their own running off with a werewolf than the werewolf taking a couple of footsteps onto their territory. But you also knew they wouldn’t take too kindly to Jungkook getting off completely free of punishments. You bet it would be another silver bullet scenario, another scar to add to Jungkook’s list.

You took a deep breath before making your way into the building, the same one you had run away from with Jungkook, three months ago. Your pin was held tight in your hand, the small crescent moon pressing its imprint into your palm. You hadn’t been greeted with open arms and, as you’d predicted, they asked you to either bring Jungkook back onto hunter territory and kill him or to hand in all of your weapons and resign yourself to living on the werewolf’s side of the territory line. It was a decision you’d made long ago, making it easier to turn the box of weapons in, your pin neatly placed on top of it. By the end of the day, you were given a twenty four hour notice to pack your things and say your goodbyes.

As you’d expected, your parents didn’t take it very well when they’d connected the dots, when they’d began to notice all of the features Jungkook shared with his father, the same broad build, the same dark hair, the same Alpha blood running through his veins. Their facial features were similar but Jungkook’s had been altered, softened, by his mother’s genetics, giving him some chance at not instantly being recognized as the Alpha’s son. But once they knew, you could see all of the pieces coming together in their heads, the reason Jungkook rarely came over, the way he had always flinched when they’d shown him their hall of silver weapons, swords, daggers, arrows along with their accompanying bows. They hadn’t disowned you but they hadn’t exactly waved you off with smiles. They did, however, walk you back to the territory line, making some grumbled excuse about how they wanted to see Jungkook now that they knew, to see if it was all true.

He was waiting where he’d promised to though he’d quickly ducked to hide behind the tree he’d been leaning on when he’d seen the two other people with you. You’d seen Jungkook run faster than humanly possible and skid to a stop without an issue, you’d seen him balance himself on the tips of his toes of one foot, reaching to put that last box on top of the shelf, managing to not fall flat on his face. But in that moment, he seemed to have the same amount of grace as a baby giraffe, a muffled swear following the sound of his head hitting a low branch in his scramble to hide, making you roll your eyes. You eyed the unmarked territory line, knowing that after this day, if you ever crossed it for anything that wasn’t mandatory, you’d been given the same treatment as the werewolves.

“I know hunters aren’t really allowed into the werewolves’ territory but...they would make an exception if you wanted to visit.” you hinted to your parents, hearing Jungkook give in and come back out, realizing there was no further point in hiding.

“Absolutely, any time. Our home is your home.” he added, earning two icy looks and ducking his head back down, his hand ruffling his hair awkwardly.

“I hope you know what you’re doing.” was the only response before they both kissed your forehead, starting the walk back to your childhood home.

Jungkook’s family took you in that same night, pushing Jungkook’s clothes to one side of his closet, helping him empty out a few drawers to store your things. You knew the stay was temporary but it still warmed your heart, the feeling of family when you needed it the most. Jungkook had already began to search for apartments, houses, anything that the two of you could afford. His family was obviously well known in the side of town, meaning it would take all of a week for the two of you to find a new place, with the amount of connections he had. But for the meantime, they made you feel at home, they helped keep your mind off of things that troubled it, they kept you smiling.

His pack, now your pack, made a nearly overwhelming effort to keep you happy, offering advice, company, distractions. You remembered what Jungkook had once told you about feeling pain in the pack. If one was in pain, all of them were in pain. You saw the weight of his words during that week, seeing the way everyone made an effort to cheer your mood up whenever they saw you, offering food, bad jokes or just a shoulder to cry on. And when Jungkook had found your new home, they’d all been there, turning what could’ve taken days into just a few hours of work. Everyone was moving boxes, everyone was helping you set everything up, they all helped you paint the walls. In just two days, one of those days used up by letting the paint dry, you were fully moved into your new home, with a new key on your key chain and a new appreciation for team work.

As you watched Jungkook get ready for the day, having gotten right back into working at Yoongi’s cafe, you realized you were okay. You weren’t happy that your family currently considered you a traitor and that it would be at least a few months before any of them talked to you but you were healing from it. You could be patient with the situation because right now, you had one of the most beautiful men with the kindest heart stood in front of you, his eyes still heavy and his toothbrush frozen in his mouth as he tried to wake himself up. You had a home, a real home with him, with framed photos of the two of you on the wall, with stupidly cute post it notes pressed to the mirror in the mornings, sending messages back and forth. You had someone waiting for you when you went home, you had someone to wait for when you got there before he did. You knew your family would come around but for now, you could let them have all the time they needed to adapt to the news because you had Jungkook there to keep a smile on your face, to help you up when you fell.

“Have I ever told you you’re cute?”

“Only about fifty times today. I’m never wearing your hoodie again.”

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moonprincess92 · 7 years ago

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Rebelcaptain fic: A bad idea

“Ok, this is bloody ridiculous,” Jyn finished her drink, before slamming it down onto the coffee table in front of them. “Let’s just have sex.”

Cassian choked on his beer.

IE: the friends with benefits fic we all need (wc: 11631) Read on AO3

“This is so stupid!” Jyn exclaimed, throwing up her hands in indignation. “The police are literally still after them and they think that this is a good time to fuck?”

“It’s for the aesthetic,” Cassian deadpanned, before smirking a little. “It’s a blockbuster spy movie, Jyn. I wouldn’t think about it too hard.”

She snorted, taking a gulp of the beer that each of them were working on as they watched together. Slumped down on the battered sofa that Jyn had initially bought in a second-hand furniture shop for 10 quid, her legs were stretched out over Cassian’s lap, his non-beer arm resting over them. Naturally, on screen the moderately-famous actors were descending into sensual jump cuts with less and less clothes, breathy kisses and dramatic music.

“Did the lighting department go on strike when they shot this scene?” Jyn muttered. Cassian laughed and hushed her in response, leaning over to hit her shoulder.

She had to suppose, though, that for all its dramatics, it actually wasn’t a badly shot scene. You know, in comparison. She titled her head slightly, eyebrows furrowing as the actors rolled on the hotel bed, the two moaning and kissing and exchanging equally blissful looks at what was clearly supposed to be the moment of penetration.

Oh, blimey.

Look, maaaaybe it was the late hour. Maybe it was the beer. Hell, maybe it was the fact that Jyn hadn’t had sex for an utterly abysmal amount of time, but for whatever reason … she found herself kind of getting into it. She glanced at her flatmate, before hastily turning her attention back to the screen. There weren’t any porn-level screams or impossible positions, just shadowy movements and the occasional naked arse, but the music was swelling to emphasise their deep emotional connection and yes, she was getting sort of turned on. Her skin under Cassian’s hand suddenly felt uncomfortable and simultaneously like it was on fire. For several minutes she forced herself not to squirm at the familiar ache, especially when the scene finally came to its dramatic climax (so to speak).

… but that was when she felt the unmistakable bulge under her calf.

She snatched her legs away quickly, exchanging slightly mortified looks with Cassian next to her. He took a rather large gulp of his drink.

“Shit, sorry,” he winced.

“Eh, we’re flatmates,” Jyn just shrugged into her beer. “I’ve seen you in your underwear before, there’s nothing to be sorry about.”

Somehow, they went back to silence. As police sirens interrupted the post-coital bliss on screen and the movie progressed into yet another frantic chase scene, Jyn sighed in frustration. She watched with a kind of blankness that was the best one could ever achieve when ridiculously turned on with no immediate outlet. Even worse, Cassian was clearly a ball of tension next to her and though neither of them said anything, the heat had to be coming off them both in waves. Her skin was crawling, but leaving the room would only make it even more obvious about what she wanted to do.

Wait, what were the people on screen even saying?

“Ok, this is bloody ridiculous,” Jyn finished her drink, before slamming it down onto the coffee table in front of them. “Let’s just have sex.”

Cassian choked on his beer.

“I’m – I’m s-sorry?” he coughed.

“We clearly both want it!” Jyn pointed out. “We’d be doing a favour, helping each other out, so to speak.”

“How much beer have you had?”

Maybe she had been hitting it too hard. Either that or she was suffering from temporary insanity, because what else would explain her sudden need to fuck her otherwise completely platonic flatmate? She noticed a red tinge creeping up his face and oh god, what had she just done?! This was the kind of nightmare that she was about to start awkwardly laughing through any second now. Quick, just blame the movie because Jesus Christ, Jyn, you really have fucked up this time! When you found a mate who was willing to let you back in the building at two in the morning when you forgot your keys, would cook you life-saving Mexican food during quarter-life crisis’s, and would even drag you home from the club on their back, it was just a RULE: you kept your goddamn genitals faaaar away from each other.

She was a terrible person.

“I – I’m sorry,” she cringed. “God, I know it’s insane of me to even suggest–”

He suddenly lunged across the sofa.

He crushed his lips to hers, and her brain short-circuited entirely. Holy shitballs. She let out a kind of strangled gasp as heat engulfed her. She didn’t know where the hell this was coming from but then again, she didn’t know where her earlier bout of insanity had come from either (now that she was thinking about it, perhaps there was something in the beer after all?). The movie carried on behind them, neither knowing nor caring about what was happening anymore as she clutched at his shirt, his fingers having snarled in her ratty hair. She didn’t know whether she wanted to climb into his lap or have him pin her to the sofa – both had their appeals – but before she could make a decision, he was pulling back.

“I’m – I’m good for us to help each other out if you are?” She shivered at his breath against her throat.

“Oh, I’m good,” she answered.

In the end, he made the decision for her. She was pushed back into the sofa cushions, a leg between hers and his tongue drawing out sounds that quite honestly she hadn't known she could still make. She groaned into his mouth as he bunched up her jumper and t-shirt, his hands painfully freezing against her belly. Somewhere, her brain kept yelling, Jyn. JYN, WHAT THE FUCK. This is Cassian! Cassian was taking off her shirt, Cassian was running his hands over her breasts, this was the same Cassian that she’d first met five years ago when he’d answered her ‘flatmate-wanted’ ad and had accidentally thought Bodhi was her boyfriend … CASSIAN! They were mates, they weren’t supposed to kiss each other like this or stroke each other like that, but ohhhhhh, her brain had clouded over.

Hello, impending orgasm.

In comparison to the on screen couple, theirs was no beautiful love scene. He nearly fell off the sofa trying to get his jeans off. She’d definitely not worn the right kind of underwear this morning. She was definitely cringing at the face she made when he pushed into her, but then oh god, oh god, he was moving and it took roughly 3 more seconds to not give a shit. Her fingers clutched at the skin of his back, legs hitched around him. Outside their tiny flat, all she could hear was the abysmal London rain still pouring, the dwindling day growing darker by the second.

It might’ve been romantic if the TV hadn’t still been booming with explosions and gunshots in the background.

By the time she was lying out of breath and thoroughly sated underneath him, the movie had apparently wound down to its final credits. One arm was splayed out over the edge of the sofa, but the other still rested against his back, Cassian’s face hidden in her neck. A part of her really, really wanted to panic right about then, but that was when he looked up and met her eye. He started grinning … and that was it. She fucking lost it.

They both burst into utter hysterics.

They laughed together until their sides were sore and tears were in their eyes. Jyn covered her face with her hands, moaning into them,

“Oh god. Goooood, Cassian!”

“Trust me, I know.”

“OK. Ok … well,” she grinned, trying to get herself back under control. “Thanks for, erm … doing me a favour.”

“Likewise.”

“I will never mention this again if you don’t?”

“Agreed,” Cassian nodded.

Eventually, they got their sniggers and breathing back down to normal levels. Unfortunately, when it died down it kind of morphed into a very awkward pause. Not that she had a problem with him still being on top of her – the weight was something she’d forgotten, something that for some reason right now was comforting, rather than crushing – but honestly Jyn couldn't remember the last time she’d been fucked quite like that. It was very possible that she’d lost all feeling in her body.

“Sorry,” she mentioned. “but are you planning on moving at all? Because I think my arse is going numb …”

“About that,” Cassian admitted. “I’ve realised that I don’t really know how to without it being weird. Like … could you not look or something …?”

Jyn kind of wanted to yell at him we are completely naked! but she got it. They would somehow have to get up while still flushed, sweaty and in a state of undress that was somehow altogether different from the few times that they had accidentally stumbled into the bathroom while the other was in the shower. But this was Cassian. If he could help her study through failed years of university, if she could make dinner every second night without burning something and if they could still be friends even after that time she had thrown up on his shoes after a night out, then they could suck it up and do this.

She tried not to smile too much as they eventually pulled their clothes back on.

Jyn Help me I’m going to die

Ya, but I’m assuming u mean ur gonna die sooner than u thought, right?

Kay wont stop playing disco music His desk is right next to mine It’s been going on 4 hrs now

That’s what u get for making friends with a robot lol

What do I get for making friends with you?

Resting bitch face and the occasional shitty coffee made for free [crying/laughing emojis]

If I’ve said it once, I’ve said it a thousand times – QUIT YOUR FUCKING JOB

Lol like that’s gonna happen

You literally hate it

We live in LONDON, I can’t afford to quit

You could go back to uni

If I can’t afford to quit a shitty waitressing job, I certainly can’t afford to go back to uni, wtf is wrong with u [picture of a generic white person looking sad with outturned pockets]

Would u please stop sending me memes Seriously

Sorry, it’s the only way I know how to show affection

My life was never the same after I met u

…

Ok look, I just need to make sure bc im going a little crazy over it, but … we’re ok, right?

Why the hell wouldn’t we be ok?

COME ON Can u not be jyn for just 5 seconds or something please The other day

Oh right I thought u were talking about some other time we had sex Sorry Yeah cassian, we’re ok Don’t think the sofa is, but we are

Lmao Like I know we agreed to not talk about it but…

No, it’s fine. We’re fine Let’s just go out and get hammered tonight ok? I could certainly do with it after my day

[grin emoji] Ok I’ll buy the beer When do you finish your shift?

“There’s my favourite girl!” Han yelled at her once she’d walked through the door. “Be a dear and help a man out?”

“Fuck off, mate!” Jyn called back, snatching a packet of salt from a nearby table and lobbing it at his head.

The pub owner laughed, ducking the projectile easily. She didn’t care if no one else was here yet, she would get started without them if that was the case. Han would totally look out for her. The man was admittedly an arsehole at best, but when you’d seen each other naked before, one did tend to let bygones be bygones. Besides, they’d only slept together a handful of times before he’d gone and met the love of his life, and that had been that had been the end of it, really.

… not that Leia Organa actually wanted anything to do with Han Solo, but the gesture of not sleeping with anyone else had been rather thoughtful, in Jyn’s opinion.

“Rough day?” he asked her as she dropped unceremoniously onto a stool at the bar.

“If you ID me on purpose again, I’m going to kill you.”

“So it was that bad,” Han slammed a glass in front of her. “Would you like OJ with your vodka?”

“Maybe a splash.”

It didn’t take long for the pub to start blurring, despite the fact that she was sitting still. Alcohol always made her a little giddy, a little too prone to oversharing, and it was around drink number four when Jyn was waving off his inquiries to whether she was ok once more. “Noooo, no, no, no, it wasn’t that bad, I swear!” she insisted. “Just my boss is a prick, insane customers, that kindaaa thing.”

“Sweetheart, I’ve always told you to just come work for me,” Han rolled his eyes.

“And work nights? Spend my time getting hit on by students wearing Primarmi? You’re full of wonderful ideas!” Jyn snorted. “And you wonder why Leia won’t even give you the time of day.”

“I’m working on it!” he said, hotly.

“Maybe if you didn’t act like such a wanker around her.”

“Gee, it’s a wonder you’re still single. When was the last time you even had sex, Jyn?” Han rolled his eyes, letting the glass scrape across the bar as he took it away from her. She whined as he peered at said glass in amusement. “This has to be a record,” he added. “I’m cutting you off and PC Plod's not even here yet.”

“I love that you call 'im that, the Brits have been influencin' you,” Jyn teased.

“Never,” Han drawled.

“But shhhhhh,” Jyn suddenly flung herself over the bar to grab at Han’s shirt sleeve. Had it been even one drink ago, she honestly would have recognised what a Terrible Idea it was to mention literally anything! But she was currently at four-drinks Jyn, and four-drinks Jyn was prone to recklessness and damning all the consequences. “I have to tell someone,” she focused very seriously on his face. “You can’t – don’t tell anyone this, especially not Bodhi – but I might’ve slept with PC Plod, ok?”

Han stared at her a moment.

“… boy, Enid Blyton did not see that one coming.”

“It’s crazy, right? It’s crazy!” Jyn flung up her hands, nearly knocking the last of her confiscated drink out of Han’s hands. She dropped back onto her bar stool heavily. “We didn’t mean for it to happen, it sort of just … did. But fuck, it was good. Oh shit, I think I kind of want to do it again, but he’s my bloody roommate, like tell me this is a bad idea, Han!”

“… it’s a bad idea.”

“See! Thank you,” Jyn kissed her hand, before slapping Han’s face with it lightly. “Now tell that to my vagina.”

“You’re a delight. More vodka? Oh also, you might wanna warn the vaj,” Han nodded somewhere over her shoulder. “he just walked in.”

Jyn nearly fell off her stool. Luckily, Cassian was close enough to leap forward the last few feet and catch her elbow before she could face plant. “I see you started without us,” he smirked. “Bodhi and Luke not here yet?”

She shook her head. “No Kay, either?”

“I killed him four and a half hours into my shift.”

Jyn laughed. “Catch any bastards today?”

“Responded to a few calls, nothing major,” he shrugged.

Jyn watched, her head planted firmly in her hands, elbows on the bar top, as Cassian settled onto the stool next to her. It was bloody insane. She would have to be blind drunk to even suggest it, which is what worried her in the first place, but the fact remained that despite her shitty job, despite her abandonment issues, debilitating student loan and general lack of self-worth, she was … kind of happy. She almost hadn’t recognised it. She had gotten so used to the pressure clogging her throat that the sudden disappearance of it the last few days had been something almost of a shock. She attempted to listen as Cassian and Han made small talk. Admittedly, Cassian hadn’t ever exactly gotten along with Han Solo (probably something to do with that the first time they’d ever met was when Han had spent the night and they’d both awkwardly tried to use the bathroom at the same time). But these days they could thankfully chat a lot more civilly, and Jyn might have listened except that practically all sounds had been muted.

She shouldn’t even be considering it. It was the worst idea she’d ever had (and she’d made some pretty bad decisions over the last 25 years of her life). But she kept replaying the sofa over and over, thinking that if that was the first time, imagine how good they could get if they did it a second, third or even a fourth time.

It was just sex.

It didn’t have to be complicated, right?

Hey, where tf are you? Bodhi and Luke are making out again I need help

Tpiltts Tiolets TOILETS I’ve gone to the loo Wanna gte outta here?

Lmao, ok stay put I’m coming to get u

No no no noononnooo Cass I mean do u wanba GET OUTTA HERE Get off Go back 2 my pl Well our plce HAVE SES SXE Adfssj U know what I mean

I’m here I know what u mean

He slammed her up against their front door. His lips were hot as they moved to her neck, sucking the spot behind her ear that he had apparently learned about last time. His fingers tugged on her hair, keeping her right where he wanted her as her hands traversed his sides. They slid against his skin under his shirt, down, down, and thank god that, ok, at least this time they could actually blamed it on the alcohol.

“You’re laughing,” he complained against her neck.

“Your beard tickles,” she sniggered.

“You didn’t complain last time.”

“Cassian, this isn’t me complaining,” Jyn pointed out. “Trust me, you’d KNOW if I was – ohhh god,” she suddenly groaned as his teeth lightly grazed at her collar bone. “St – stay there – yeah, there–”

He seemed only too happy to oblige her for the moment. For several minutes, there was silence down their corridor, save only for their breathing and frantic fumbling for either one’s set of keys. By the time they managed to stumble inside, slamming the door behind them, she had already gotten his jacket off and shirt open, and there were the beginnings of a bruising mark decorating her neck.

Jyn could barely think over the buzzing in her head. The flat swirled around them, her heart thrumming. His chest was hard under her hands and she kissed him sloppily, deeply, whimpering when he bent down and grabbed her thighs. Legs around his waist, he hastily traversed through the otherwise dark and empty flat. It took her a moment to notice that it was her bed they were drunkenly stumbling into, but it made sense.

Hers was the closest to the front door, after all.

He engulfed her, pressing her back into the mattress. It was a gasping, fumbling rhythm, hindered by incoordination and desperation, but what they lacked in finesse they certainly made up for in enthusiasm. Finally, they made each other fall over the edge, her toes digging into the sheets and stars exploding somewhere behind her eyes.

Cassian’s head fell onto her shoulder. Jyn felt her chest meet his with every breath, their skin sticking together. It left her itching and kind of wanting more, but shit they were such a mess. She needed to move, but Jyn was also aware that her drunk, sated arse was definitely not going anywhere anytime soon. She wasn’t quite sure where he went, but his body was suddenly being replaced with her duvet and the softness did her in. She was out cold within seconds.

She woke in the morning – like usual – regretting all her life decisions up until that point. She protested as the light hit her eyes through the windows, but thankfully, Cassian was suddenly there with tea in front of her.

“Oh … bless you,” she moaned, half-heartedly dragging herself upright so that she could accept it. Cassian had always proudly held onto his love of coffee, despite having lived outside of Mexico for apparently nearly 10 years now, yet he still took the time to make her tea. She glanced up at him in his underwear and looking barely any better than she no doubt did. She might’ve given a shit about the fact that she was still practically naked as well, but considering the things that they’d done, it seemed a little late for that.

“I found your phone,” he mentioned, tossing the device over to her.

“Thanks,” Jyn said, flicking quickly through the notifications. Nothing major, just a few unflattering photos from last night to immediately un-tag herself from and threaten Kay into soon deleting. She dropped her phone next to her, trying to keep her eyes on her tea instead of the bare chest that was still standing in front of her. She didn’t quite know where he’d gone last night. Her bed didn’t look slept in apart from herself, but it had never bothered them before to share when the situation had called for it. Was it bad form to ask? Oh, this was making her head hurt more.

Thankfully, before she could truly work herself up into a good Panic, he clambered over her legs and settled down next to her. She smiled a little, handing him his coffee without him needing to even ask.

“So I know we said we wouldn’t talk about it …” he warbled.

“Yeah,” Jyn wrinkled her nose. “Look, last night was all me, I am so sorry–”

“Did you like it?”

Jyn shot him a look from over her mug. “I mean … yeah, yes, I liked it.”

“Then don’t be sorry. I liked it, too.”

They were both grinning now. However, frustration over the whole situation won out and she fisted a hand into her hair. “UGH, why does this have to be so complicated?” she complained. “Like, we’ve got something here! It feels good, we both like it, but this is the worst idea imaginable–”

“Is it really?” Cassian said into his coffee casually.

Jyn turned and punched his arm. “Trust me when I say you don’t want to fall in love with me, mate.”

Cassian snorted. “Oh, I remember what happened to your last boyfriend. I know.”

“You make it sound like I killed him,” Jyn whined.

“Didn’t you text me at 2am once to ask how often the police pulled out bodies from the Thames?”

“Arsehole, that was purely theoretical,” Jyn insisted.

“How is Scott, these days?”

“Dunno, haven’t heard from him since we broke up,” Jyn said.

He pinched her arm a little. “Look,” he said. “this honestly doesn’t have to be as complicated as we’re thinking. You don’t want a relationship and I really don’t have the time. But as it turns out, we have pretty great sex for two people who are just friends, soooo …”

“Ok, I’m going to stop you RIGHT THERE,” Jyn pointed out. “because I know exactly where this is going and for the record, it won’t work. I’ve seen the movie! Not the one with Ashton Kutcher, the other one.”

“Oh, with Mila Kunis?”

“That’s it!” Jyn nodded. “If we start regularly sleeping together, I know exactly how it’s going to go! We’ll try and keep it casual, friends with benefits or whatever, but soon we’ll start to get in over our heads. One or both of us will catch feelings that neither of us are prepared to handle, and it will all eventually end with it blowing up in our faces and one of us being forced to move out! We can’t risk it.”

Cassian sighed. “Ah, shit. You’re right.”

“I know. Damn it,” Jyn grumbled. “but what if … nah, forget it.”

“What?”

“No, don’t listen to me!” she said. “Hell, I’m probably still a little drunk, I definitely don’t know what I’m saying.”

“Jyn.”

He always knew how to get stuff out of her. Maybe it was the whole cop thing, maybe it was just a Cassian thing. But just like the time he’d managed to get her talking when she’d finally broken down and admitted that she was quitting uni, his eyes bored into her until she found herself blurting out,

“Ok, but WHAT IF … we agree to do this,” She ignored the slight thrill at the thought. “but only until one of us starts developing feelings. When that happens, we stop.”

He considered.

“Deal.”

“Wait,” Jyn practically spluttered on her tea. “Just like that?!”

“Sure,” he shrugged. “Those rules seem pretty clear. We get to sleep together until the first sign of emotions, then we stop. Our friendship remains intact, and we get amazing sex out of it, what’s the down side?”

“I’m serious,” Jyn warned. “I can’t … I love you like I’d love any flatmate, Cassian, but I really can’t do another relationship.”

“I get it,” Cassian answered. “Open and honest, and this will work!”

Jyn couldn’t believe she was agreeing to this.

“Open and honest.”

“So we’ve agreed?”

“I … think we have.”

Cassian reached out and squeezed her knee through the duvet. “Cool.”

You want pizza for dinner?

Are you literally texting me from your room? Seriously?

I’m lazy Do u want pizza?

Pizza’s good with me

Brill Also do u want a bj im kinda feeling it

Pizza and a blow job? What did I do to deserve you?

[Picture of Barney Stinson with the text ‘I’m awesome’]

Again with the memes

If she’d known all along that this is what it would feel like to have Cassian Andor inside her on a regular basis, she might’ve done this years ago.

Yeah, she’d always kind of assumed that he’d be an excellent lay. It was hard not to when their bedrooms shared a wall and they had spent the last five years that they’d lived together teasing each other through it. He would blast out mood-killing songs whenever she brought someone over, and she would always smack the wall back in response and yell out, “Oh yes!” dramatically, that kind of thing. But Jyn had always kind of thought that he was just showing off the rare times he’d brought someone home. That she was just overestimating his abilities, talking it up in her head … except it turned out that he had a wicked tongue that could send a thrill through her in a heartbeat, and well.

“Ok, so let me recap–” She gasped into his mouth, having pressed him up against the hallway wall. “Don’t like being tickled, yes to doing it rough–?”

“Open, I said I was open to it,” Cassian reiterated, reaching down to grope her arse. “I mean – if you–?”

“Oh, I’m definitely into it,” Her kisses were open-mouthed, hungry; she wanted to leave marks this time. “Like – don’t crack my skull open or something – but you know–”

“Ok,” He raised a hand to cup the back of her head. Before she could catch her breath he suddenly moved, turning and slamming her up against the wall a little. He smothered her yelp with his mouth, hand sliding down out of her hair to rest against the side of her neck. Jyn clawed at his shoulders and he lifted her.

“This ok?” he murmured.

She smirked into his kiss. “Very ok.”

“How was your day?”

“I got yelled at for forgetting to use soymilk,” Jyn mentioned casually. “You?”

“I arrested someone for punching Kay in the face,” Cassian answered. “We were responding to a 999 call, he was fleeing the scene, honestly, what else would you expect? But Kay got there first, and you know what he's like when–”

“Wait, wait, hang on–” Jyn had to stop him mid-sentence, clamping her thighs tight around his hips, halting their movements entirely. “I’m sorry, but you have to change the subject. Talking about Kay REALLY doesn't do it for me.”

Cassian snorted with laughter into her neck and she shook her head in amusement. She at least got an eyeful of his sweaty chest as he leaned and rested his head back against the sofa with a thump. His arms remained slung around her, but no matter how into this Jyn had been minutes ago, she now couldn’t get the irritating face of Cassian’s damn work partner out of her head.

“I’m sorry,” he said, weakly. “Did you want to stop?”

“The fuck are we stopping,” She rolled her eyes. “Just, I dunno, talk about something hot instead.”

“Jyn–” Cassian looked like he had choked a little. “You’re my best friend, I can’t tell you something like that!”

“Cassian, for god’s sake,” Jyn pointed out. “now is not the time to be setting boundaries.”

He seemed to consider that for a moment. She knew that sometimes, they were still thinking too much with their heads about all this, about what they should and probably shouldn’t do, but damn it, she was supposed to be doing this because of the bonuses of not-thinking! Her hands had been resting against his chest as he leaned against the sofa, but now she let them move. She saw him gulp. “C’mon …” she murmured. She leaned in, nipping at his jaw. Her hands wandered up into his hair as she said, “just tell me that you like how wet I am or something.”

He swore in Spanish.

“What did that one mean?”

He shook his head. “JYN.”

“FINE,” Jyn sighed. “tell me about how you arrested this bloke instead?”

Incredibly, that one worked surprisingly well.

You have (1) deleted item:

From: [email protected] Sent: Monday 12th June 2017 9:16pm To: [email protected] Subject: Hi

Hi Stardust.

I understand that you still don’t like hearing from me but I just thought I should let you know that I’m going to be in London the next few weeks. It’s a research project I’m working on, I’m technically not allowed to say any details, but it’s really exciting work and I think you’d enjoy hearing about it.

I hope you are well, Jyn. Last time I heard directly from you, you had decided that university wasn’t for you. I hope that whatever you’re doing now, you’re happy and settled.

I’m sorry that things aren’t better or perfect. But I love you, Stardust.

Dad.

My dad emailed again

Shit. Did you answer?

Lmao no He’s apparently in London Probs wants me to go and see him or something but that’s the thing, it’s always on his terms! I could go all the way to his fucking front doorstep but it wouldn’t make a difference cause only he apparently gets to dictate when and where he wants to be a goddamn father Fuck sorry

Jyn it’s fine Want me to go arrest him? I’m sure I could make something up

[crying/laughing emojis] Sure thanks

Consider it done

“Hey, check this out,” she called from her perch on the kitchen bench, not looking up from her phone. “they say that people who have regular sex live longer.”

“Who says that?”

“The internet.”

“Well, I’m convinced.” Jyn threw a nearby junk mail magazine at him. Cassian battered it away easily from where it was his turn to cook that night and she barked out a laugh. Keeping each other company while the other cooked was a leftover tradition from when Bodhi had still lived with them and it wasn’t something they’d really moved on from yet, despite it being months now. Even though they saw each other literally all the time, Jyn still admittedly missed having her childhood best friend around all the time. She could only imagine what he’d have to say if he ever found out that they’d been sleeping together though, so it was probably better to focus on the positive sides.

Honestly, the bonus of being flatmates was that there were no logistics whatsoever to worry about! They could simply pick whoever’s bed happened to be the closest and no other flatmates meant that the rest of the flat was fair game (sorry Bodhi). And already being friends meant that Jyn didn’t have to care about being self-conscious when the lights were on, nor having to worry about sounding like she was dying when she was coming. Cassian had already seen her at her most pathetic 4am, crying and Netflix-binging state.

Nothing could be worse than that, after all.

“Cassian!” Kay’s voice piped up from the lounge, then. “I’m afraid to say that if Jyn is helping you cook tonight, I won’t be able to eat anything. I can’t risk food poisoning–”

“It’s like he’s not even human,” Jyn noted, swinging her head up to shoot Cassian a look.

He just shrugged like, what can you do?

Jyn glanced back over the kitchen bench and around the corner, to where she could see Cassian’s work partner currently huffing at being ignored, despite that literally all their friends were also currently lounging, chatting and laughing around him. She considered yelling out that they’d had sex right where Kay was sitting not even 6 hours ago, but then again, they hadn’t told their friends about them for a reason. Bodhi had always been an avid matchmaker, even before he’d asked Luke out, and he would have read way too much into it. Han would just be an arse about it and keep asking her whose dick was bigger. Leia would want every sordid detail and Kay … well, Kay would probably want to murder her.

No, it was easier just keeping this between themselves.

“What did I seriously ever do to make that man hate me?” Jyn grumbled, tucking her phone under her armpit as she folded her arms.

“You were your usual charming self,” Cassian noted.

“I don’t know why you’re being sarcastic, I’m a fucking delight.”

“Of course,” He turned to face her with a spoon in hand. “Right, Fucking Delight, make yourself useful and tell me if this tastes good–”

She gave a high-pitched mmm sound. “Well, with a hint of parsley–”

“Oh, I don’t know why the hell I’m asking you,” Cassian said with deep resignation as Jyn pulled a face. He leaned over the bench next to her, calling out, “Kay! Please come take over Jyn’s job, she’s useless to me!”

“Of course she is,” she heard Kay mutter at once.

“If you think I'm putting out any time soon, you've got another thing coming,” Jyn threw back at Cassian quickly.

“Naturally,” he just grinned.

“For god’s sake, what’s got you so worked up about this?” Jyn might’ve laughed at the comedy of the situation if she hadn’t been so annoyed. There they were, both completely naked and yet still somehow yelling at each other from opposite sides of his bed. “It’s only doing it from behind and besides, it's perfect for us! You can’t even see my face, no emotions are involved whatsoever!”

“Jyn, c’mon! It’s almost too personal,” Cassian said in exasperation. “No, I can’t see your face, so you’d have to just believe that I’ll do it how you like. That’s … that’s a lot of trust to be putting in me.”

“Cassian, I let you put your dick in me,” Jyn said, scathingly. “I think it’s safe to say that I already trust you.”

“This is different!”

“HOW THE HELL IS THIS–?” Jyn had began, but soon broke off in a frustrated growl, closing her eyes. Unfortunately, she got it. They were already pretty close. They’d said that they’d only do this until they fell for each other, but she was starting to wonder now whether that was going to happen sooner than they’d originally thought. The two of them clicked. They worked in a way that was just chill and without stress, something that made her actually want to get through her shitty days so she could get back home to him.

She shook her head.

“Ok, yeah,” she said, hastily. “I get it. Too personal. Wanna fuck me against the wall instead?”

“Sounds perfect.”

Im gonna watch a movie u wana join?

Which one?

Dunno......im thinking action lots of explosions, unnecessary sex scenes and big guns

Well now, how can I say no Do we need more bathroom cleaner btw?

Ya Toilet paper too

Got it Have you picked a movie yet?

I’ll wait til u get here Hey hey yyyyy Guess what colour underwear im wearing

Im standing in the frozen foods aisle, for christ’s sake

WRONG ANSWER It’s nothing I’m wearing nothing

………jyn erso, are u seriously sexting me?

Is it working Our friendship is fucking ruined now isn’t it?

I’m literally on my way home

Jyn’s knees hurt, but like hell was she moving any time soon. They probably shouldn’t have chosen the kitchen for this, it was hardly sanitary, but he’d started kissing her neck as they made dinner together and she’d ended up shoving him up against the bench. She’d started with his lips, but had steadily worked her way down, opening up his shirt and eventually his trousers until she’d gotten him right where she wanted him. One of his hands was fisted in her hair, but the other gripped the edge of the kitchen bench, his knuckles white. God, the noises that came from his mouth, it should be illegal or something –

“HEEEEY, GUYS! Just dropping off – wait –?”

It apparently took Bodhi about half a second to realise what he was seeing. The sudden strangled yell from the entrance to the kitchen made her leap half a mile. She fell back on her arse as Cassian panicked, spinning around.

Bodhi slapped a hand over his eyes, a giant store-bought cake under his other arm.

“MY EYES!” he screeched. “GODDAMN IT GUYS, I CANNOT UNSEE THAT!”

“What the hell are you doing here?!” Jyn cried. She hadn’t even heard the door open.

“It wasn’t so long ago that I used to live here too!” Bodhi removed his hand, but kept his eyes squeezed shut as he blindly reached out, trying to find the kitchen table. “Jesus Christ, it’s not even 3pm!”

“Bodhi–” Jyn rubbed her forehead warily, climbing up to her feet. Bodhi finally found the table. He dropped the cake onto it just as Cassian, who had been forced to hastily make himself decent, caught her eye and mumbled,

“Yeah, I’m just gonna …”

Jyn watched him leave with an almost amused look. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen him run so quickly,” she mentioned.

“So it's safe to look now, then?”

“Oh for god’s sake, Bodhi, we're adults aren't we?” Jyn rolled her eyes, kicking a chair out at the table for her to sink down onto. Bodhi thankfully let himself see again, tentatively sitting down next to her.

“Look,” Bodhi grumbled. “I just didn’t expect to be seeing live porn when I walked in here, ok?”

“Sorry! Blimey,” Jyn said. “It’s not like we were expecting you bursting in, either … don’t worry,” she added in a huff at the look on his face. “It’s nothing serious or anything, we just … sleep together sometimes.”

Bodhi rubbed his eyes, looking like he’d just been told to believe that England would give up drinking tea for an entire year.

“Bloody hell, Jyn. Since when has THAT been happening?” he asked.

“Dunno,” Jyn shrugged. “Few months now?”

“Few MONTHS?” Bodhi threw up his hands. “That’s it! I don’t know why you lot even keep me around anymore, clearly as soon as I moved, it was out of sight, out of mind!”

“Shut up,” Jyn kicked him under the table. “There was nothing to really say!”

“I never thought you even liked him like that,” Bodhi said.

“It’s not about like!” Jyn said. “It’s about … look, turns out that we have pretty great sex and it was easy to just keep doing it. Don't think too hard, ok? There’s no emotions involved here.”

Bodhi just scoffed loudly. “OH, COME ON, that shit never works. Haven’t you seen the movies?”

“That’s why we agreed to stop the second emotions did become involved,” Jyn said. “HA, see? We already covered this!”

But Bodhi was shaking his head, almost laughing now. “JYN. Oh, babe. Ok, so say you do keep doing this until that day you look at him and think ‘fuck, I’ve fallen for this bloke’. What makes you think that you’re going to want to stop sleeping with him at that point? Because I'd like to note that the brain isn’t all that great at being rational and logical when it’s being emotional.”

Jyn opened her mouth to immediately counter with her brilliant rebuttal … until she realised that she didn’t have one. Bollocks. She liked to think she’d do the rational thing and take that step back as planned – she was nothing, if not pragmatic – but Bodhi had planted that seed of self-doubt. It had been so long that she almost couldn’t remember what it even felt like. What if she fell and decided to fuck it all and never say anything? What if Cassian did? She couldn’t fall in love again, she had the same level of emotional intelligence as a goddamn lizard!

She couldn’t do it. Not with him.

Since her brain was screaming at her, it naturally made it the perfect time to ignore everything and simply wave off Bodhi’s point. “Since when have I ever been the emotional one?” she joked.

Bodhi only shook his head once more. “Just … shit, girl. I hope you know what you’re doing.”

Yeeeeah, me too.

Jyn desperately cast around for a topic change, and noticed the cake then still sitting in its container inside the plastic bag between them. She nudged it and asked, “What’s this for, then?”

Bodhi stared incredulously. “… my birthday?”

“OH, SHITBALLS,” Jyn slammed a hand into her forehead. “I mean, I was honestly going to buy you a cake this time!”

“Yeah, yeah,” he said. “don’t worry, I’ll act touched, just like every year.”

“I swear I’ll be onto it by the time you’re at least 30,” Jyn said, a little sheepishly.

“I’ll believe that when I see it.”

“Arsehole.”

Bodhi grinned as he dodged a wadded up receipt that Jyn had lobbed at his head.

“Hey,” Jyn folded her arms as she leaned against the doorway to Cassian’s room. “you all right?”

“I’m never going to be able to look Bodhi in the eye again, but yes,” he answered without looking up from the computer on his lap.

Jyn laughed a little. “Yeah … sorry I was interrupted. Did you want me to come and take care of that, or …?”

“Don’t worry,” Cassian held up a hand. “I think the moment’s passed. But I appreciate it.”

“Bodhi was bringing round the cake for his birthday party tonight.”

“Honestly, Jyn, it’s the same every year. You had one job.”

“Well now, see Bodhi’s gotten so used to buying his own cake that if I did actually do it at this point, we’d end up with two cakes!” Jyn pointed out. “It’d be messing up the whole system.”

“Who says there’s anything wrong with two cakes?”

Jyn shrugged a little, before venturing in closer. She nudged Cassian’s shoulder, and he shifted over so that she could settle next to him. “What’re you watching?” she asked.

“Mediocre horror movie. I kind of needed something as unsexy as possible.”

“Are we talking slasher or more supernatural thriller?”

“Oh, there’s definitely a lot of blood.”

“Perfect.” She leaned against his shoulder and his arm rested comfortably over her thigh. They didn’t move for the rest of the B-grade gore fest.

Hey Jyn, I’m assuming you’re on your way, but want to warn you that your dad has for some reason turned up to my party Jyn Jyn did u get this msg? ???? JYN UR DAD IS LITERALLY AT MY PARTY I DIDN’T INVITE HIM I DON’T KNOW WHY HES HERE BUT TEXT ME BACK JFC JYN

…

Shit cass are u with jyn? Goddamn it look at ur phone! Her bloody DAD is here Thats it, I’m calling u

When Jyn walked into the pub and saw her dad, she was certain that it was somehow her punishment for being caught sucking off her flatmate.

“FUCK,” she exclaimed.

Leia was the one who noticed her first, glancing around curiously at her curse. Quite frankly, Jyn still didn’t know Leia Organa all that well. Their introduction had admittedly been back nearly three years ago now, the two of them introduced when Bodhi had first started going out with her brother, but they admittedly didn’t talk one-on-one that much. Hell, she still wasn’t entirely sure whether the woman actually knew that Jyn and Han had once had a thing before. It wasn’t exactly a secret and they hardly kept their shared past discreet, so Jyn suspected that Leia had probably decided that it was just better to not explicitly ask. Jyn met Leia’s gaze for all but two seconds, before deciding fuck it, and leaping towards her.

“Hide me!” Jyn cried.

“What’s going on?” Leia asked, staring at her in bemusement.

“The fuck if I know!” Jyn hastily pulled up the hood of her jacket, keeping her back to where Galen Erso was on the other side of the pub, sitting by himself rather awkwardly. “Tell me, do you also see the middle-aged bloke sitting alone at the bar? Dark hair, looks rather out of place?”

“Yes …?”

“Great, I’m not hallucinating then. That’s my DAD, Leia,” Jyn clamped her hand onto Leia’s arm. Whether it was for comfort or just in sheer panic remained to be seen. “Whom I have not seen for god knows how many years now, because he walked out on me and my mum when I was eight and half the time forgets to even send a birthday card, let alone remember I exist!”

“… well, this went in a direction I wasn’t expecting,” Leia said, a little blindsided. “Shit.”

“NO KIDDING.”

“Do you know what he’s doing here?”

“I deleted his email!”

“I … think we’re getting a little hysterical here, Jyn.”

“I just–” Jyn roughly yanked out her phone. “He messaged saying he was in London, but I really didn’t want to see him so I deleted it. Look–! Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Jyn slammed her phone several times into her hand. “This decrepit thing turned itself off on me again!”

“Ok, ok,” Leia glanced over her shoulder as Jyn waited for her crappy phone to reboot itself for the billionth time. “Subtle observations indicate that … oh, he’s just seen Bodhi! Bodhi doesn’t look that shocked though, just making small talk now. I think he already knew he was here, he keeps looking at his phone …”

“Oh, Christ,” Jyn stared at her own phone suddenly coming to life in her hand. The dozens of messages and missed calls were flooding in. Surely half of them were from Bodhi trying to warn her. The log of missed calls told her that Cassian had apparently been trying to get a hold of her as well. Jyn was used to feeling screwed over by this point in her life, but the sudden reappearance of her father had thrown her for a loop. She felt like her chest was screaming. A little helplessly, she glanced up at Leia.

The other woman held herself up determinedly.

“What do you need me to do?” she asked at once. “I’ll lend you my jacket if you want to sneak out – or I’ll call Han and get him to chuck him out of here – or – I don’t know, do you even like hugs, or–?” She cut herself off in surprise as Jyn suddenly threw herself into Leia’s arms.

Normal people hugged and offered shoulders to cry on as a sign of friendship, but Jyn was woefully bad at showing affection for literally anybody aside from sending memes out of nowhere at 2am. But she’d never appreciated the woman in front of her more, and a hug just seemed like the thing to do. Leia startled, but wound her arms tight around her in return.

“Thank you,” Jyn muttered.

“Hey, no problem,” Leia said. She squeezed her one last time, before stepping back. “Just do me a favour and please never tell me whatever the hell it was that happened between you and Han, ok?”

“Deal,” Jyn snorted.

Fortunately, at that point, her phone rang again.

“Cassian,” she said at once.

“JYN!” Cassian’s voice was agitated with panic. “FINALLY! LISTEN, ARE YOU AT THE PARTY YET? DON’T GO TO INTO THE PUB–”

“Yeah, about that,” Jyn said. “Too late. But don’t worry, I know my dad is here.”

She heard Cassian mutter a few choice phrases under his breath. “I’m so sorry – look, I’m just arriving now, where are you? What do you want to do from here?”

“I’m with Leia, we’re near the – I SEE YOU!” She and Leia waved frantically at the front door, where Cassian had just arrived. Relieved, he hung up the phone and hurried toward them through the crowd. Watching him, Jyn realised that her inner Panic Mode had started subsiding the second Cassian had walked in. Leia apparently also noticed. She kept glancing between her face and Cassian’s, still struggling through the crowd.

“So you guys are still fucking …?” she asked casually.

“Yep.”

“And you’re not in love with him?”

Jyn didn’t answer.

However, before Cassian could reach them, someone else apparently did. Jyn heard the voice behind her, heard her childhood nickname, and everything inside her spasmed. Please no. She didn’t want to do this, she didn’t have the strength for this. She turned warily to see that her father had found her.

He looked tired, but then again, he had as well on every other rare occasion that she’d seen him. More than tired, he had a heavy air, like something invisible was weighing him down but Jyn couldn’t afford to get sentimental here. A tiny part of her somewhere would always be that little eight-year-old who loved her papa and had begged him not to leave, but another would forcefully remind herself that no one should have to endure the radio silence she'd gotten in the years since. Yes, she wanted him back. She wanted to be able to talk to him, she wanted to understand, she wanted an actual father … but she couldn’t do it right now.

“I’m sorry, Star – Jyn,” he hastily used her name at the look on her face. “Jyn … I’m so sorry for intruding like this, I really am. But I remembered it was Bodhi’s birthday, and I saw on Facebook that he was having a party here, and I just wanted to see you–”

“If you’d wanted to see me, you would have said yes the million times I asked,” Jyn snapped back, beyond done. “I don’t want to talk to you!”

“Please, Jyn–”

“What’s happening?” Cassian burst in on the scene, practically skidding into her side. Leia, Jyn noticed, had subtly sneaked away and was currently yelling frantically at Han somewhere over the bar.

“Nothing,” Jyn quite firmly planted a hand on Cassian’s chest to keep him back. “He was just leaving.”

“I want us to talk, Jyn,” Galen said, desperately. “We haven’t properly talked in years, I feel like I’m losing you–”

Jyn let out a deserive snort of laughter. “Look, Dad. Who’s fault is it that we don’t talk? The only times I ever got to see you growing up was when it suited you. But I don’t care, I’m old enough that I don’t need you anymore,” She stared him down hard. “If we ever do actually talk again, it’s going to be when I want to, on my terms. If you push me, try contacting me at all, I swear you’ll never see me again. I know how to contact you if I want. Now, leave me, Bodhi, and my friends the HELL alone.”

She didn’t know what reaction she’d get, honestly. It was probably the most defiant she’d ever been. Cassian still stood resolutely by her side, not saying anything, but obviously about a second away from defending her if all hell broke loose. Galen nodded clearly, his eyes a little lost.

“I understand. You won’t hear from me again,” he said, regret pinching his voice. “Please know, Jyn … if you ever call, I’ll always answer.”

He turned and left.

Bodhi was completely beside himself.

“I WAS FUCKING PANICKING, I’M SO SORRY!” he kept yelling over and over, at least until Jyn could get a few drinks in him. “I saw him and he was making small talk and telling me happy birthday, and I didn’t know how to throw him out without making a scene and–”

“It’s fine! Bodhi, it’s fine,” Jyn threw an arm around his shoulders, shoving a pint into his hands. “I told him to leave and he did, it’s all ok – besides, we can’t let this ruin your birthday!”

There were thankfully cheers and chinks of glasses all around then, the dramatic Erso Family Tension slowly being forgotten as the night went on in favour of celebrating Bodhi’s birthday in excitement. Yes, maybe Jyn got a little more than just blind drunk, but quite honestly, she hadn’t felt so uplifted in years! Leia pulled her out to dance several times, the two clinging to each other to remain upright. Han’s bar converted a raised stage area into a space for dancing at a certain hour, which was a little dangerous in that Luke fell off it several times, but Bodhi was thankfully always there to catch him. At one point, Han came out from behind the bar and whispered into Leia’s ear, earning a smack and a dance in rapid fire. As she was swept up, Jyn suddenly felt arms wrap around her from behind. She clung on gratefully as the popular tunes got turned up.

“Hey – heeeey – thank you,” she yelled over the music.

“For what? I didn’t do anything!” Cassian said back.

“’zactly,” Jyn turned her head, except the movement made it swirl and it nearly knocked her off her feet. She tipped over slightly and Cassian’s strong arms had to haul her back upright. Jyn’s face had gone bright red as she slurred, “You din’t try an’ fight my fight for me … you backed me – had my – back? I jus’ mean you stood and din’t try defen’ my honor, or whatever the fuckin’ …” She had absolutely no idea what she was saying. Just that the man with his arms currently around her was one of the most decent human beings she’d ever met.

(She didn’t kiss him.

But god, she wanted to).

Hahahahhha, she wasn’t spiralling! Noooooooo.

(Maybe if she kept telling herself that over and over again, she’d eventually believe it).

She watched Cassian desperately from the kitchen doorway.

Regular sex had obviously been good for her. Even Bodhi had (reluctantly) commented that both she and Cassian had seemed less stressed lately, that their skin had cleared and that their crops had been watered, or whatever the fuck. Apparently, finding out about them had made a lot suddenly make sense. Jyn felt it. Somehow, her job had gone from Fucking Unbearable, to Still Made Her Want to Die, But Admittedly Kind of Tolerable Now. It was amazing what a good orgasm or two could achieve!

Somewhere down the lines, it had even gotten comfortable. Some might have assumed she meant that they’d plateaued, but that wasn’t the right phrase. Despite their closeness, it was always going to be a little weird seeing each other properly naked for the first time, but now it had grown into something that felt … natural. It never felt awkward or forced, only …

Right. The word was right, it felt right.

She wanted to cross the room and wrap her arms around his waist. She wanted to breathe him in, she wanted him to be the first thing she saw when she woke up in the mornings, and she wanted to fuck his brains out against the table before cuddling sweetly on the sofa. She wanted far too much for their deal, and oh, don’t mind her, just having a bloody panic attack in the hallway!

She should have been better prepared for this! Damn it, she'd watched the movies and everything!

“Oh, hey!” Cassian suddenly called out, noticing her behind him. “You got off early, sorry I haven’t made you anything–”

Jyn hastily put on a smile.

“I’M FINE,” she squeaked. “NO, wait – it’s fine, I mean …”

From: [email protected] Sent: Thursday 21st July 2017 2.11pm To: [email protected] Subject: Congratulations! Your enrolment details

To Jyn,

We are pleased to inform you that your application for Bachelor of Arts has been accepted. We are looking forward to you starting your journey to higher education this September …

From: [email protected] Sent: Friday 22nd July 2017 8.41pm To: [email protected] Subject: I've gone insane

Mama –

Thought I’d let you know that I kind of signed up for uni again. I decided it was time to finish my degree. I'm going to look into whether the study I did before still counts or whether I'll need to start over (I mean, God I hope not) and I know it’s only a BA, but it means a lot to me. Who knows maybe I’ll finally get to quit the coffee shop someday!

…sorry, I’m making jokes, I’m not nervous at all.

Love you,

Jyn

“WHY DID YOU LET ME DO THIS?”

“Just to reiterate, once again,” Cassian said, flicking through channels on the TV. “I did not force you hit the submit button. Hell, I wasn’t even home at the time.”

“STILL!” Jyn cried, throwing her hands up as she paced in front of the TV every 10 seconds. “You’re my best friend, your job is to stop me from doing stupid things!”

“I thought it was to join in on the stupid things?”

“CASSIAN.”

“Look, how is going back to uni stupid?” he asked, raising an eyebrow. “Oh, for fuck’s sake, sit down,” he added as she paced past the sofa once more. Jyn found herself getting dragged down next to him, a little chagrined. “You clearly want to do it, or you wouldn’t have applied in the first place. You are more than capable, Jyn. You’re intelligent, determined and it's something you clearly enjoy learning about.”

Jyn bit her lip. “But last time I gave up.”

“You were dealing with other things in your life at the time,” Cassian gently reminded her. “Your father and the stress wasn’t a good combination. It’s ok to take breaks from things that aren’t good for you at the time.”

“This has been a hell of a break, Cassian,” Jyn scoffed. “It’s been over three years.”

“It’ll come back to you.”

“Easy for you to say!” Jyn threw up her hands. “This is insane, first sign of it getting hard and I’m going to quit again, I know it! I – I don’t know why I ever thought–”

He swooped down and kissed her. God.

She wasn’t sure why he had cut her off mid-sentence at first, but when she realised that her brain had melted to the point where she was swimming in it, she started to figure that that might’ve been his goal. Make her relax, make her forget. She could barely remember her name, so it was (un?)fortunately working. She was already pressed close to him on the sofa and he used it to their advantage, reaching down to move her scrunched-up legs, hooking them over his lap. Hands in her hair, he pulled back to murmur,

“Calm the fuck down, Jyn, yeah?”

She could only make some kind of squeaking noise in response.

His lips traversed her jaw and neck, her heart slamming so ferociously in her throat that she was certain he had to feel it. She needed to stop this. She needed to say no. She had to face it, she was halfway in love with him and she needed to put a halt on everything before it all got wildly out of control but blimey, he believed in her. Her best friend believed she could do this, her best friend would do anything for her and her best friend’s hands were sneaking under her shirt, making her skin sizzle. Motherfucker.

She was so screwed.

Hey

Hey Why aren’t you asleep?

OH u know Keep thinking

FOR THE LAST TIME, you’ll be great at uni. You’ll graduate and get to wear the hat and I’ll probably cry because I’m so proud of you …………did u seriously text me at 1am and then fall asleep on me????

NO, no, I’m still here

What’s wrong, Jyn

Nothing, I just…… U know how we said we’d just do the whole ‘sleep together’ thing until one of us got feelings right?

Right

Well I got feelings A Lot of em And I’m sorry, but I think I first got them a while ago, but in my defence I didn’t actually KNOW so I didn’t say anything, but even when I did know I didn’t say anything but I couldn’t keep NOT saying something so this is me saying something and I know we said we'd stop when this happened but thing is I don’t think I actually want to stop so yeah

The moment Jyn’s rambling text was sent, she immediately regretted it. What the fuck you have to go and say all that for, you eejit? She could have left it at ‘I got feelings’ and that would have been fine! Nooo, she just HAD to go and spill everything like some bloody romance movie.

Oh my god, she was Mila Kunis!

She stared at the messaging app until her eyes blurred. Minutes passed without a reply and eventually, she shut off the phone, slamming it back onto her bedside table. She wasn’t going to be able to face him in the morning. She rubbed her eyes warily before attempting to snuggle back down under the blankets. All of this was a colossal mistake. LET’S JUST SLEEP TOGETHER, she’d said, IT’LL WORK OUT FINE, she’d said. Nothing ever went wrong when you slept with your otherwise-platonic best friend and flatmate, everyone knew that! Oh god, one of them was going to have to move out now and since she was the one who’d fucked up, it would probably be her. She’d have to move in with Bodhi and Luke and be a third wheel! Either that or live with her new best friend, Leia … actually no, then she’d have to deal with Han coming over all the time and being a prick about it. Better stick with Bodhi and Luke –

SLAM.

Jyn leapt a fucking mile. Her bedroom door was suddenly flung open and in the meagre light of a phone screen, Jyn saw Cassian standing there. She noticed that their recent text conversation was pulled up on his phone and he was staring at her incredulously (and rather dramatically) from the doorframe. She didn’t know what on earth to say.

She shifted uncomfortably in bed, sitting up a little. “I’m sorry–”

Within three strides, he’d crossed the room and leaned down, crushing his lips to hers.

The phone was thrown somewhere across the room. His hands snaked around her waist, practically falling into her on the bed. They rolled and her legs were tangled in the blankets but she was fucking soaring and she didn’t care. She kicked herself free, wrapping herself around him, tasting the late night on his tongue. Minutes, hours, she honestly didn’t know how long they spent holding each other, kissing like it was the first and last times all at once. He slowed though, pressing his lips to hers once more before her cheek, dragging a hand out of her hair and to her face.

“I got feelings too,” he admitted,

“Oh … oh,” It appeared that she’d forgotten English entirely.

“I also didn’t say anything.”

“Guess we really fucked this up then, huh?”

She could feel him smile against her cheek, his legs tighten where they were tangled with her own. “Yes. Fucked it up completely.”

“I had a good time doing it, not gonna lie.”

“I want to keep doing it, too.”

Click. Something snapped into place.

“Oh, thank god.”

“Am I to understand that I will have to endure this every time we hang out together now?” Kay sighed exasperatedly from his side of the table. “Because if so, I am more than happy to go find new friends–”

Jyn just kissed Cassian harder in retaliation, sticking up her finger in Kay's general direction for good measure.

Absolutely no one had been surprised to learn that Jyn and Cassian apparently weren't just sleeping together anymore. Bodhi had yelled, “CALLED IT!” while Luke groaned in exasperation, slumping further down into his chair around their usual table at Han’s pub. Leia, who had been in the bathroom at the time, had come back only to cackle at the news while Han incredibly even shouted them both a free drink in celebration, something almost unheard of from the man. She only finally pulled back when Kay started throwing salted peanuts at them.

“Honestly, if you want to fuck off, be my guest!” Jyn growled, arm still slung around Cassian’s neck. “I’ve only been waiting for it ever since we met, after all.”

“Cassian, why,” Kay deadpanned in response.

The ultimate pro of the Scathing Comment, Cassian threw back something funny and non-committal. Jyn honestly wasn’t listening too closely. Her brain was a little fuzzy from all the alcohol and kissing, she started uni again in a couple months, and quite honestly, for what felt like the first time in her life she wasn’t worried. She spent the night laughing with Leia, exchanging stories that were long over-due and sitting next to Bodhi whenever she wanted to go and talk on his side of the table. She would catch Cassian’s eye every now and then and feel her face flush at the slow smiles that they would exchange.

She had expected this latest transition to be weird, but quite honestly, she shouldn’t have. If the last few months had taught her anything at all, it was that whether they were doing it or not, things still somehow worked out between them. It was like this potential had always been there, just simmering away underneath everything they did. She didn't buy the theory that it was fate, but even she couldn't deny that whatever it was, it was a connection that went beyond anything explainable. No, she didn’t have a bloody clue as to what she was doing and yes, she was 1000% fucking terrified, but then he’d look at her like that from across a crowded room and suddenly, she was ok with it again.

“Do you think Kay will ever get over it?” she joked, stumbling a little into the street.

He tugged on her hand hastily, keeping her from keeling over into the gutter. “Maybe one day,” he said. “However, today is not that day, sorry.”

“Weird thing though is I don’t actually hate the tosser!” Jyn pointed out with all the clarity she could muster with a few drinks in her. “He’s annoying as fuck, but he’s decent enough. Which reminds me, why are we walking home instead of being dropped off on the corner like normal?”

“We kept making out in the backseat, and Kay kicked us out.”

“Oh, that's right,” Jyn grinned.

The night was brisk, but clear. They walked in silence for the few extra minutes it took to reach their building, Jyn’s fingers clenching unconsciously between Cassian’s. She hadn’t intended on saying anything, but she suddenly stopped just before they were about to head inside. “Hey,” She spoke to her boots, wincing at the sincerity that was about to come out, but to hell with it. “Seriously, though … I’m sorry I’m not the girl Kay wishes I was. I know I suck at this.”

“Jyn …” Cassian began.

“No, no!” Jyn insisted, waving off the look on his face. “Really! Like, not even kidding, we both know I’m the nutcase here, HA – so, um, I don’t know … thanks, I guess. For not cutting me loose.”

Cassian squeezed her fingers, stepping in closer. “Jyn, you know that you got stuck with me for life the day I first moved in. This isn’t going to change anything.”

“I’m serious! I swear I barely even know how to do the relationship thing anymore–”

“Hey. Something tells me that we’ll figure it out,” He let go of her hand to punch her shoulder lightly.

This man was something else.

Jyn responded by throwing all caution to the wind and just kissing him right there in the street. It was about time she let him know that she was as in deep as he was, and the way to convey that was naturally to wrap her arms around his neck and drag him down to her lips. No, she didn’t know how the hell things were going to go from here. Maybe they'd fuck up tomorrow, maybe one day it would all get too much, but also just maybe, things would somehow work out.

Maybe this entire thing hadn’t been such a bad idea after all.

- Fin

#rebelcaptain #rebelcaptain fic #rebelcaptain fanfic #ro fanfic #rogue one fanfic #rogue one #ro #my fanfiction #look i just really wanted a friends with benefits fic and i went a little overboard ok???#i hope you like it!!#and pls go leave me comments on ao3 i posted it when everyone was asleep lol

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milquetoast-on-acid · 8 years ago

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Before and After, A Reactionary Post

Major Crimes, S1xE2: Episode Review

What this episode is about: The Power Struggle // Sharon vs. Taylor & Pope // Sharon vs Provenza // Amy. the wild card // Andy. the ally The ghosts that haunt us // Brenda // Chad Raybur // Sharon's Husband & Rusty's Mother Making the best out of a shitty situation // Sharon & Taylor // Sharon & Provenza // Sharon & Rusty

The Power Struggle continues...

Sharon, Provenza and Taylor all struggle to hold power and all three of them react in different ways. Similarly the squad below is caught in it and they all react in different ways as well.

Sharon vs Taylor and Pope

How can you not love Robert Gossett and that FACE!? The guy does hilarious facial expressions like no other and I miss it.

It occurs to me that Pope and Taylor had never intended to promote Sharon. It was only something they said in order to get her to stay and accept Major Crimes. So why Sharon specifically? Why not someone else? I think they wanted Sharon for a few different reasons.

1. Her strict adherence to rules. This I think is the biggest reason why the chose her. Brenda's fast and loose playing of procedure was the reason why the department was in the trouble it was in, in the first place. Sharon is not only known for following the rules but also making them. This was something they knew they would be guaranteed and not something the would have to worry about they way they did with Brenda.

2. Her familiarity with the department. She had already been working on and off with the department for give or take 3 years. She was very familiar with the detectives, how they worked (their strengths and weakness') and how the department was ran. So she could use those things to her advantages the way someone completely unfamiliar with the department couldn't.

3. Her ability to adapt and openness to a new way of doing things. Both Pope and Taylor wanted things to be run differently than when Brenda ran them. Specifically they wanted to make deals with the criminals, which would save time, money and guarantee a conviction. Sharon was of the same mind with only her motivation being slightly different than theirs. Where they were mostly concerned with saving money from trials, she was more concerned with a guaranteed (and faster) conviction.

Sharon vs Provenza

Amy. the wild card

While we don't get too much reaction from Mike (except him saying that he'd rather have a trial), Julio and Buzz on the power struggle between Sharon and Provenza but we do see a lot from Andy and Amy. At first it didn't really occur to me exactly the reason why Amy acts the way that she does. She sucks up to get the job and it works, but in the end she doesn't really know where the chips are going to fall. Who should she look towards? Who should she follow? Sharon or Provenza? Provenza was in charge when she first encounters MC, but then Provenza is pushed out by Taylor and Sharon. Sharon is now in charge but for how long? Provenza has support that Sharon lacks. To me this explains her odd behavior she doesn't quite know who to go to, who the top dog is? So she has to play a bit of both sides.

Provenza sees her as someone he can use to put her on his side but he's got a problem. Because in this episode Amy seems to be gravitating towards Sharon, even though she's not completely convinced of her as of yet. It also occurs to me that another reason why Amy seems to be following Sharon's lead over Provenza's is that Sharon was the one to hire her. And mean while Provenza didn't think twice about moving her to MC.

Andy. the ally We think that Andy would be someone that would naturally back Provenza. Considering how close the two men are. But if it's about choosing sides here, then it's not Provenza's he picks. Immediately after Amy comes into the interrogation room and lets the suspect know her husband was a suspected rapist. Provenza and Andy have a bit of discussion about her. Andy says: "She's smart and dumb at the same time." to which Provenza says: "Oh, she's not dumb. She's choosing sides."

Andy is standing directly behind Sharon. Visually telling us that he's backing her for now and in the future. It's something that we eventually get very used to seeing. It's also interesting that Sharon and Andy are once again wearing the same color. Yet another visual clue that the two of them are linked and of the same mind. Things are changing for the squad in more ways than one.

Provenza is standing a part from them on the other side. Visually telling us he’s on his own side.

Andy vs Provenza

The difference between Andy and Provenza and how they see things in the way that Sharon works out the department. Is that even though Andy has a very black and white way of thinking he's much more open to change than Provenza is. To Andy, deals make a lot of sense. He even states how much he personally hates court and he if he doesn't have to go how is that a bad thing? And as I mentioned in my last weeks review of Reloaded.

Making deals with criminals was something that Andy actually wants. Because if you have the power to make someone's life better (and you think their's something redeemable about them) why not take that? It was something he wanted for that boy in Reloaded he was trying desperately to make a deal with. Similarly if you have the power to send someone away to jail (even if it's a shortened period of time) and it's gurrentted? Why would you not want that? Unfortunetly for Provenza he doesn't see things that way. He hates change and he just sees the deal making process as a way to cut time for criminals that should be serving more time. I can't say that he's not wrong about it.

Sharon & Rusty There's also a power struggle between Sharon and Rusty. Rusty's been on his own for so long he thinks he's grown up. And Sharon does her best to remind Rusty that he's really just a child. It's a struggle because he clearly doesn't want to be there. Even though it's really the best place for him.

The ghosts that still haunt

Brenda

Everyone is still reeling from the absence of their former chief. She isn't mentioned here the way that she was in Reloaded but the ghost of her still haunts the halls of Major Crimes and it's Detectives. Simply put Sharon Raydor is not Brenda Leigh and now everyone is going to have to get used to it. Whether they like it or not.

Chad Raybur Is the ghost that haunts his all of his rape victims, their families and his wife. The fact that he's actually dead makes the title of this section all the more juicy. Most especially Jim and his daughter Amanda. Jim wanted to make a banner to hang in his gym that let everyone know exactly who Chad was. And when Amanda wouldn't let him do that he tried to sue them.

Sharon's Husband & Rusty's Mother We learn (or relearn depending on whether you watched The Closer) that Sharon is married but has been separated from her husband for 20 years. The shadow of him still hangs around in her life just as much as the shadow of Rusty's mother hangs around in his. Despite the absence in their lives, they are both clearly loved by Sharon and Rusty.

We know that Rusty's mother abandoned him at a Zoo and he wants more than anything to be with her again. He thinks this situation with Sharon is just temporary (oh how little he knows) and pins all of his hopes on his mother coming back and everything will be alright again. Sharon has been through 30 some odd years with Jack and as much as she still loves him. She doesn't pin hopes on him. Even though they don't live together and are legally separated they are still married.

There is a clue here as to what Rusty's relationship is like with his birth mother. Rusty is the adult in that relationship, and she is the child. Similarly, Sharon is also the grown up in her relationship with Jack, while he's the child. How can we get more of a visual than Jack's suit hanging up in her closet? As a ghost that hangs around in her life?

Life is not Fair: Making the best out of a shitty situation

Sharon & Taylor

Taylor attempts to play certain cards with Sharon but she sees right through him. He tells her that there's a freeze on promotions and when that doesn't work. He starts talking about where she's spent her career and how lucky she is to be given MC because of that and because of her age.

Despite the fact that Taylor himself was just promoted and that he's around the same age as Sharon these are some bull shit arguments. Ultimately there isn't anything that Sharon can do but make the best of a difficult situation. Which is has been Sharon's entire life story.

The one and only thing (at this point) that I agree with him is him pointing out that her ability to hold her team together should be a function of her leadership skills and not her rank. Sharon doesn't need the commander title to lead MC effectively. The only other thing I want to point out about this conversation between her and Taylor. Is that Sharon is starting to see that Taylor is not someone she can rely on.

As we later learn Sharon's whole life is about her not being able to rely on anyone but herself in a professional and personal capacity. In any job your Boss is someone that you should be able to rely on and look to for guidance. As of yet Taylor is not fitting that bill. Not the way that Pope did for Brenda when she first took over.

* I just want to make a little side note here. I have many many thoughts on Russell Taylor. Even though he is a sometime antagonist and sometime asshole. I don't think he is a bad guy. In the same way that I never saw Sharon as the bad guy. My personal opinion of Taylor is that he grows as a person through out MC's series. While he is always much more focused on media, money and the LAPD's outlook than their own internal workings - He does become a better person and like Sharon grows into the job better as the series goes on. It's subtle but he becomes less of asshole and if you notice the squad and him eventually work together instead of working against each other.

Sharon & Provenza Unknowingly for Provenza, Sharon does have something in common with him. Both of them are stuck in this situation and they have to make the best of it. Sharon was promised a promotion she didn't get and Provenza was put in charge and then it was ripped away from him. Provenza thinks he can't live with the changes that Sharon brings, Amy and him not being in charge.

Sharon & Rusty "I'm here and your mother is not. And your going to have to try and make the best of it." The fact that Sharon is trying so hard with Rusty. That she's already got a school lined up for him that she wants him to go to. One that both Emily and Ricky went to. She brings up college to him and wants him to start thinking about a future for himself.

Both Sharon and Rusty may think they don't need the other but both of them love someone who (while does love them back) loves themselves (and their addictions) more. Both abandoned and both of them clearly need love in their lives. And while Sharon has Emily and Ricky, they are not a part of her everyday life. Both Sharon and Rusty can't really move forward with their lives. . And it seems that for both of them to move forward they need each other.

Similarly Sharon and Provenza need each other. Sharon needs his expertise and knowledge. Provenza needs Sharon's diligence to procedure, her adaptability and political know how.

Favorite Line(s):

"Wait Somebody married you!?" "You do realize there's a freeze on all promotions." "Accept apparently on Assistant Chief."

Comments/Moments:

Mike

Mike: "Before and After shots. Pretty Racy." I can't tell if Mike is being sarcastic here or not? Please let it be sarcasm.

I love how even though Mike takes Amy’s shitty driving like a Pro he later gives her this look that says I don’t want to die.

Provenza

What I didn't like: Taylor playing fast and loose with both Sharon and Provenza. He's put them both in a position that says "I'm the boss and you have no other choice then to play my game." While it's not a great episode or all that emotionally enthralling it is a better episode than Reloaded.

What I did like: I think that now that things between the squad and the team members places have all be established and the places are starting to fall into place. Makes things a bit easier this episode verses Reloaded. I think the case is a bit better than last weeks. We get more emotionally connected with the victims than in Reloaded.

There is some nice humor in the beginning of the episode between Sharon/Rusty and Provenza. We also get some backstory on Sharon which is always wonderful from the ever mysterious Sharon Raydor. Sharon is already starting to think of Rusty's future, even if he can't see that far ahead of himself. That's something that boy has needed, someone who will love him unconditionally and look out for him.

Next week I will review: Medical Causes

#major crimes #mc season 1 reactionary post #a reactionary post #sharon raydor #andy flynn #provenza #rusty beck #amy sykes #mike tao #shandy #sharon and rusty mothership #russell taylor

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btsvt-adventures · 8 years ago

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Sixty Percent

Title: Sixty Percent Pairing: Hoseok x Reader Warning(s): Mentions of death, suicide, dark thoughts, strong language, gore depression, overdosing, self harm, self deprecation, self hatred, anger, lashing out, verbal abuse, physical abuse

If you’re easily triggered, please don’t read this

Word Count: 3097

A/N: This is so dark oh god. Also i wanted to post this on Hobi’s birthday (for dramatic purposes okay) but things got in the way, and well… it’s late. Oh well.

60% of males with Schizophrenia attempt suicide at least once. Today is Hoseok’s fifth.

He glances at the handful of pills in his palm, watches them glint against the harsh white of the asylum’s bathroom lights.

Do it.

It ain’t like anyone gonna miss you

That bitch doesn’t really love you. It’s all fake! All so you’ll be a good, quiet little patient

Do it right and we will go away, cross our hearts

And hope you die

The shadows were taunting him again, tempting him to try. They crept along the walls, in the mirror, behind him, next to him, in the corners of the room. Where he went, his shadows followed. When darkness came, his shadows ruled.

He’d stolen the pills, after getting Taehyung to distract the staff. Taehyung had been delighted, eager to lie and trick anyone and everyone he could. With that boxy smile of his, it’s easy to believe him, easy to fall into his trap, easy to let him lead you and all the others away. He stares at them for a moment, the bottle of water in his hand shaking slightly.

Six years. It was exactly six years ago that he was admitted. He’d kicked and fought, yelling at his parents that he was fine, that he wasn’t actually going to kill himself, and that he’d meant for it to be a joke. His parents cried, sobbed, wailed as they put their precious son into the asylum, swore that they’d visit him, that they’d get him out when he was better.

They never came back.

He resented them, of course he did, for never visiting, never calling, for basically leaving him here to die, but it was tiring being angry all the time.

It’s not so bad, he supposes, glancing in the mirror, eyes roaming over his gaunt features, worn and tired, making him look older than his twenty two- no, twenty-three years. He sighs, mind drifting again, to the things he’s done to all the messed up patients here.

And what fun it was.

He’s seated across Jungkook, scoffing quietly when he sees the younger lash out at another nurse. Jeon Jungkook, 20 this year, and still as easy to piss off as when he was admitted a mere three years ago.

Make him angry.

Fucking piss ‘im off real good

Fight! Fight! Fight already won’cha?

Don’t be a fucking wuss, do it, you little bitch!

It doesn’t take much for him to cave. The voices, the shadows, they loved screwing with Jungkook, pissing him off to the point that they’d fight. Hoseok’s lips curl into a manic grin, the shadows cheering him on as he stands abruptly, strolling easily towards Jungkook.

“Yah, you’re pathetic, you know that?” he sneers gleefully, and Jungkook glares at him, barely restrained anger burning in his wide doe-like eyes.

“Someone with such a baby face, you’re just begging to be babied aren’t you, cute little maknae,” he goads, and Jungkook’s glare intensifies.

“Shut your face, dickhead,” he snipes, fists clenching as he fights the urge to punch Hoseok in the face.

Hoseok gets stopped (unfortunately), dragged away before he can cause any more trouble. He lets out a manic laugh, eyes wild as he loses a shred of fragile, composed sanity. The male nurses take him back to his room and sedate him, threatening to keep him in lockdown if he misbehaves again.

He does, repeatedly, but the nurses eventually figure he won’t actually push Jungkook far enough for the younger to kill him.

With Yoongi it’s more… stimulating. He gets a kick out of seeing nine year old Yoongi bawl his eyes out when Hoseok ‘tells’ on him. Yoongi will sulk, pout, whine and wail, just so he doesn’t have to take his medication.

But the fun part isn’t watching a twenty-four, almost twenty-five year old turn into a nine year old. The fun part, is when Hoseok can catch Yoongi at nine, and force him to turn to his deliciously violent, oh-so-sexy nineteen year old self.

“He faked taking his meds today,” he tells one nurse casually, innocent lilt in his tone. Yoongi cusses him out, and he just laughs, high pitched and gleeful, watching as the nurses pin Yoongi down and force the myriad of pills into his system.

“I’ll have my revenge, asshole!” Yoongi snarls, fighting hard against the male nurses, who all struggle to keep him from killing them (or Hoseok).

Hoseok would have let him, but the nurses pull him away, somehow determined to keep everyone alive. If only they’d realized that half of them didn’t want to be.

He laughs, darker, more manic, slowly descending into the madness of his own mind. Everyone has their own demons, and he watches the misery, anger, hatred, fear, and uncontrollable urges consume the other patients. He giggles in wild, deranged glee when the sounds of their screams echo along the hallways, knowing their nightmares taunt them, their own demons rip them apart, piece by delightful piece.

He revels in the knowledge that they’re suffering too.

That he’s not the only one.

The therapists try and tell him his demons aren’t real, that he should stop listening to the false promises and dark whispers of the shadows, but they don’t understand.

They’re real.

They haunt him, and taunt him.

They make his life a living hell. But the dreams are worse.

Failure.

‘Course you suck. Pussy.

Well look who fucked up? As per-fucking-normal

Looks like you failed again.

He growls, swiping at the shadows, screaming for them to go away, to just leave him be. He screams until his voice is hoarse, but they laugh at him, hurling razor sharp insults until all Hoseok wants to do it slam his head against a wall until he’s broken, and they’re gone for good.

Hoseok wants to die, to leave this dismal, dark, horror-filled world for the peace of eternal darkness, and this time he’s going to succeed. He closes his fist around the colourful pills, eyes shut as he takes a deep breath.

A brief memory flashes in his mind, a burst of colour in his dark, dark world. A memory of you.

Your first meeting wasn’t significant, just a fleeting smile, and a sweet “good morning,” but it stopped Hoseok in his tracks. You were new back then, fresh faced and hopeful to help the people in this place.

Hoseok almost wanted to scoff when he first saw you. No one here could be helped. It was an asylum for a reason. But you tried anyway. Everyday you helped Jimin battle his demons, coaxed Yoongi into being more receptive, switching the way you spoke as effortlessly as he did between his childlike innocence and violent alter-ego.

He saw it in the way you refused to take nonsense from Taehyung, but let him get away with those white lies he couldn’t help but tell, in how you gently reminded Seokjin that eating six people’s worth of food was too much, but letting him have that extra bowl of rice anyway.

He wanted to hate you, to sneer at how easy it was for you to lie (read: talk) to the patients, how all of them seemed happier whenever you were around. He found himself gravitating towards you, unknowingly craving the same affection you offered the rest of his ‘circle.’

You were just so good, too pure for this hellhole they’d assigned you to. You never said a word about what Jungkook did to his teacher, the way he mutilated her, tortured her in ways so twisted the news dared not report the severity of it, before she was granted the painful mercy of death. You spoke to him like the troubled teen you knew he was, coaxing him to talk to you about things that interested him.

Hoseok tried to deny it. He didn't want to be friends with you, didn't want to have hope in his already hopeless world. He pushed you away, insulted you, sneered and treated you terribly, anything to get the glimmer of hope blooming in his heart to stop growing. It taunted him, mocked him almost, but he was just so fucking drawn to you.

“Jung Hoseok right?” you grinned brightly at him, and he’s blinded, bathed in brilliant, beautiful colours, contentment and sheer peace washing over him. He’s floating, high on your gentle voice and kind eyes, drowning in so much… light, that for the first time in his life, he truly, truly believes his life isn’t meant to be shrouded in shadows.

He nods, completely enamored by you, but more enraptured by the fact that you didn’t classify him by his illness. He was just Jung Hoseok.

It was good, so, so good.

At first.

You chased the shadows away, made him laugh, made him happy. You snuck in sweets and snacks after bedtime, shared silly stories about childhood and about family, friends, and Hoseok felt… normal.

Then the shadows come back, fiercer and darker than before. Hoseok’s plagued with horrifying, terrifying nightmares, of you mocking him, of you looking down and laughing at how much of a shell he truly is. He wakes up screaming your name, and grabs the nearest thing (his plastic cup), hurling it at you when you come sprinting in. Every time.

“You! You!” he screams, thrashing as the other nurses try and hold him down, injecting him with relaxant. “You’re a liar! They say you’re a liar and you don’t really care! They say you’re using me,” he shrieks, tears sliding down his face. Hoseok looks you dead in the eyes, and for the first time you see how truly haunted he is.

You’re frozen the first time, heart dropping when you see how much he truly believes his nightmares. The helplessness claws at you, tearing you apart as you watch him struggle, shrieking at the top of his voice, frenzied with fear and panic while his mind falls apart once more.

“You. You’ll break me. You’ll break me, and I’ll let you,” he whispers, mellowing out as the medication takes effect.

You head straight into the break room when he’s completely calm, eyes shut in temporary peace, and you hiccup, letting your weakness, your pain wash over you. Hoseok’s only a few years older than you, but his eyes, in that moment, were filled with more pain and torment that you could ever think was possible. You let your emotions take control, sobbing in the tiny break room while the other nurses bustle around, some shooting you sympathetic looks, others leaving you alone to cry it out.

It doesn’t stop you. The shock eventually wears off, and you’re more prepared to handle him. You come back each time he screams your name, reassuring him you’re not going anywhere, that you truly do care, that the shadows are lying.

“How do you know they’re lying?” Hoseok asks you one day. It’s a good day today. The shadows are quiet, lurking in the darkest corners of the brightly lit room.

“Because I’m here, right now. The shadows, they never tell you good things, like how your laugh makes everyone laugh, how you’re so pretty when you smile, how you’re kind to everyone, even the ever-so-grumpy Min Yoongi,” you ramble on, and on, and Hoseok feels hope and affection bloom deep in his heart.

You lace your fingers with his, and he stares at it, almost in shock, before he turns your hand over, tracing the lines on your soft palm with almost childlike curiosity. He wants to memorise just how soft your hands are, learn each line and cut, trace over the smoothness of the tips of your fingers until he can see them imprinted on the back of his eyelids. Hoseok’s in awe, because he thought your hands would be calloused, rough from having to deal with patients like him and Yoongi all the time.

He leans down, pressing soft kisses to the center of your palms, and comes back up to peck a soft, sweet kiss to your cheek, feeling his already impossibly wide grin widen when he sees a pretty pink dust your delicate cheekbones.

When Hoseok first realizes it’s love, he knows he’s screwed. He tries to deny it, but he can’t resist. Each smile makes him want to push harder. Each sweet kiss gives him hope. The nurses are amazed by how much progress he’s made. Each time you praise him, he feels so full of love he thinks he’s going to burst.

But that was only in the light.

Once darkness takes over, the shadows taunt him for it. It’s a constant struggle, desperately trying to remember the happiness that filled his heart when he saw you mere hours ago. The days you’re not there are the hardest. He’d resort to sleeping pills, just so he could hide his struggles, because your happiness meant his happiness.

She’s lying

She only wants to see you when you’re happy

Once you crack, she’ll disappear

They all disappear

Always

Two nights later, it’s a bad night. He’s angry, violent, furious at both you and the world. He stalks you, like a predator would a prey, hurling sharp, hurtful words that burn themselves into your brain,

“Slut! Bitch! You’d open your legs for any damn guy who asks, thinking it’ll heal them? Make them better?” he snarls, eyes feral as he grips your arm tight. You gasp, not in pain, but in shock. There were bad days, but this was different.

“Only for you hobi, I only want you,” you murmur quietly, reaching out to cup his cheek, not resisting when he pulls you closer by your arm, snarling in your ear.

“Liar. What a fucking liar you are. Here’s some breaking news, bitch. We’re all here because we can’t be fucking fixed. So get the fuck out of here and leave us to rot in this goddamn hellhole!” he roars, shoving you away, before letting the nurses tackle him.

He looks straight at you, lip curling in disgust, eyes filled with contorted hate and glee.

“I told you you’d break me.”

Four nights later, he cracks. The lack of sleep, the constant torment, the whispers in the dark about hurting you before you hurt him, about him already being broken, drive him over the edge. He screams at you, hands flying and voice hoarse.

You reach for him, cooing softly, lacing your fingers together so he’ll calm down, but he tries to pull away.

“This is your fault! All your goddamn fault!” he shrieks, pulling away violently. “Don’t touch me! Don’t you fucking dare touch me!” he hollers, glaring hatefully at you.

It’s a choice. You can see the choice he makes in his manic, wild eyes, but it’s too late to stop it, and the sharp sound of palm meeting cheek echoes in the suddenly silent room.

It’s enough to shock Hoseok back to his distorted reality, and he panics when he sees you on the floor, eyes glazed over as you hold your reddened cheek, the mix of pain and shock clearly evident in your eyes.

“I- No, no please, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it, the shadows they-they keep telling me to hurt you, I try, I try so fucking hard to ignore them, but they haunt me. They torture me with dreams of you leaving, of you mocking me, saying I’m hopeless, that I can’t be cured, I just want the voices to go away!” he screams, falling to his knees in front of you, reaching out to tug your hands away so he can see the damage for himself.

“And they will go away,” you promise softly, letting him run his fingers over the mark, his mark, heart shattering at the remorse and regret on his handsome face. “Just keep doing what you’re doing. You’re going to get better, okay?”

You’re still stunned, because you knew the risks of getting too close to a volatile patient like Hoseok, but you couldn’t help it. He drew you in, mysterious and haunting, one minute goofy smiles, the next hateful glares. Your cheek burns hot, tender to the touch, but the pain doesn’t compare to how much it hurt when he broke, when you saw just how much you broke him.

Hoseok was right.

You did break him, and a dark, demented part of him hoped the knowledge would haunt you, knowing it was your fault.

He tried. Hoseok tried so hard for you, but they kept getting worse, and worse. The voices, the shadows, whispering evil into his sick, twisted mind, telling him to end his misery, to end his pain. He’d tried so, so hard, but the shadows, the torment, the torture – He failed.

60% of males with Schizophrenia attempt suicide at least once. 10.5% of them succeed.

For the first time in his life, Hoseok won’t be a failure.

This time he’d succeed. This time he’ll make them go away for good. The shadows will finally leave him in peace. He’ll be free.

He grips the bottle tighter, tilts his head back, and downs everything. It doesn’t take long, and he gasps in pain, feeling his insides churning. His vision blurs out, and he’s on his knees, body trying desperately to reject whatever he’d forced down. He vaguely hears the door slam open, hears your voice cry in alarm, and almost, almost wants to fight back, but he’s tired.

He’s just so tired.

He feels himself being lifted onto something soft, so, wonderfully soft, and glances up to see you, yelling out orders to try and cleanse his stomach, to try and figure out what he took.

“N-no,” he forces out, mouth drier than the sahara desert. “N-no m-more,” he rasps, and you look down at him, desperation clear in your eyes. He knew it was time, but he needed you to know it too.

“A-always...Love y-you,” he breathes, shaky hand reaching up to try and brush your tears away. He misses, stroking your cheek instead, but you choke on a sob-laugh, letting him see, openly, how much this hurts you too. He hears, just barely, your heartbroken plea for him to stay, to keep fighting, but the shadows are crowding his vision, his world darkening one final time. He lets himself languish in the darkness, feeling it envelop him in it’s cool, soothing embrace.

Peace.

At 12.00am, Jung Hoseok sees his twenty-third birthday. At 12.28pm, he realises he’ll never see his twenty-fourth.

At 12:29pm, on 18 February 2017, Jung Hoseok closes his eyes on his twenty-third (and final) birthday.

#BTS #angst #so much angst #don't read if triggered #pls #hoseok #Hobi #J-hope #The Monsters In My Head #Asylum!bangtan #what is this mess i've written #i made my friend cry #WHOOPS #(sorry not sorry)#admin soojin

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