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docholligay · 2 years

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Detective Pony

This was my May review, sponsored by @coolerthancats it tips the scales at more than 3k words and eventually I had to just make (SPOILER) and (SPOILER) what I was doing so that I could finish. I was somewhat apprehensive about picking this up but as it turned out I did in fact have a thing or two to say

Non-spoiler:

You know, for these not-spoiler things, its’ always a little rough to try and distill and get across something in a way that would lead people to either read or not read it. Always.

That being said, I’m not sure I’ve ever read a thing that is as impossible to define as Detective Pony. Even if I decided to go whole hog and spoil te whole thing, I’m not sure I could make any of it make any more sense in a condensed form.

Detective Pony is a fanfic of the Pony Pals series, in particular the novel, as you might imagine, Detective Pony. It goes off the rails fairly quickly, and while it begins in an extremely weak toilet humor divergence, it eventually goes in to the nature of creation, the responsibility of the creator, and the what it means to be real. Jumping from chapter one to chapter, say, ten, would be a hell of a kind of whiplash.

I’m not sure I recommend it wholesale, and I’m not even sure I LIKED it, as a work, but I love a lot of the ideas it plays with, and I do think it was worth reading, at least for me. So, if you haven’t read it, it is, at least, free and very easy to get and if you have any interest in postmodern fiction, you may as well give it a shot.

SPOILERS BELOW

Before I get into this, I need to say that I was only made aware...I think midway through watching the show of it, that Detective Pony was based on Homestuck. I have never seen nor read nor anything, to do with Homestuck. Except, I suppose, this. So whatever I come to on Detective Pony will be sola scriptura.

Also before I get into this: Because of the very nature of this story, it’s necessary for me to separate the author within and without the work. So whenever I say “The author” I mean the character/Dirk, and whenever I say “The writer” I mean the human being who committed this story to page. Okay.

You know what it reminds me of…and I might even like it better, which I am sure will cause someone to remove my literature degree from orbit, is House of Leaves. It has the same sense of unreality, the same type of postmodernist feels, and the use of academic style on conversation to sort of…take the piss out of academic style and conversation. I know House of Leaves is considered a masterwork (And this isn’t me trying to discredit House of Leaves) but I think Detective Pony has a lot of the same markers to it and could be taken as seriously as it, if one really wanted to crack it open.

And I will say I think this makes it weaker to see as a youtube series than to read. Was this was given to me, I assumed I’d rewatch the youtube series, but I found reading it to not only be easier, but honestly more enjoyable and better expressed the sense of the story and the text falling apart under scrutiny. I watched it first, but I think the better experience is to read it.

I appreciate the way that it broke down some of the more poetic things, even as a person who enjoys those sort of things. So for example, in chapter three, something that made me laugh out loud, Acorn and Minos are going back and forth about the nature of the Acorn, and in response to a jab about getting eaten by a squirrel, Acorn says that if it chooses, the acorn may sprout through the stomach and--

“No it can’t, that’s not how seeds work. And you know as well as I do that’s not the point. Why are you pretending to be that which you are not?”

And this is sort of, as I type it out, a perfect summation of so much of the work, and how it threads the needle back and forth, in its best moments, between the serious and the silly, tearing down these metaphorical ways of expressing ideas and then immediately heading back into the larger questions being asked by the work.

In chapter five, it begins tipping its hand to what eventually will become a main crux of what its talking about--inserting the author in the story, what it means to play God, what we owe creation--and it does it all with a near-throwaway joke, when it decides to separate itself from the frankly annoying jokes about Pam and her alcoholism, and refuses to let her be drinking alcohol out of her thermos, and hot soup instead. I think it ends up determining that we do owe our characters the right to be themselves, and in a way it could almost be taken, though I do not think this is the intention even slightly or remotely, as an argument against fanfic that changes some of the essential nature of the characters, which I am very pro, being as so many things fanfic is written from are, as they say in the old country, fucking stupid.

References to Dante: The first time I watched this, I literally said out loud: “Is that fucking terza rima?” and it is. It is. IN all of the effort I have ever made in writing my fanfiction, I’m not sure I ever would have thought to reference a work by pattern like that, or maybe I would so long as it wasn’t something so terrifically complicated to work with. Granted, it’s not very long but as a survivor of a CW Poetry class (Doc, you wrote poetry? In that I committed words to paper and was graded for them, sure! It was not QUITE the shitshow nightmare that Playwriting was for me, but BOY was it a struggle) I was still impressed.

This isn’t the first novel, and it won’t be the last, where an intense amount of ideas and structure will come from the Inferno--it’s one of the most influential works in the Western canon*-- but I love the way it just doesn’t reference it, but it leverages the reference as a weapon against the controlling character, having Anna use her role as Beatrice (and I am not sure I agree that I think Beatrice could do this, but I’m willing enough to hear the argument that it doesn’t bother me at all within the story) to gain control over Minos and Dirk, who I SUPPOSE I’ll call the antagonists of the piece. At least temporarily and in a sense, depending on how we feel about the ending.

The author: Man, I love the part in the end of chapter five, where it started off telling some stupid joke about Pam’s alcoholism and then decides not to do that, and goes into this whole idea about what we owe or characters, and what the author is even doing here. The author talks about how when he started, it was intentionally melodramatic and turgid, but now he’s not sure what he’s doing. Now he’s afraid this might be actually a way he’s writing to work through his demons, and that he an no longer tell if he’s sincere or putting things on. I think that this is probably the thing that speaks most to me, as a person obsessed with the idea of the writer as character and what that means for us. So many writers think of themselves as outside the narrative, but when you’re the one moving the action, your worldview can’t help but come into it

And so, that being true, can’t it be that the world in which we live is only a reflection of God’s fucking priorities? Us having been created by him, in his image, if you believe that sort of thing, aren’t our failures and cruelties and failings just his, repackaged? Are we helping God work out his bullshit in the way we work out our bullshit on each other?

Even in this, the author is both the God of this world and prey to it--in Chapter 8, he references Betancourt and the inevitable outcome of convincing her to destroy Acorn. But just as quickly, he admits that Betancourt is only who he has written her to be, and in this way, he’s referring what could happen to himself as we continue on this deconstruction of this text, while also directly calling out what a very common postmodernist take ON this story would be.

I’m just gonna call this section “Speaking of fucking Derrida”: So fun fact, I actually fucking hated my lit crit class. I think this may come as somewhat of a surprise given that I literally majored in The Study of Literature, but Lit study is a lot of things! It’s history, it’s technique, it’s analysis, but it is also unfortunately, criticism**. And this isn’t me being one of those whiny ass bitches going “How dare they make me study things that relevant to the field I apparently care about” but I just want to put it out there.

Anyway whoever the fuck wrote this clearly also has some kind of background in criticism and theory, and while, I am so sorry that happened to you, that’s exactly where the writer gets this whole idea in chapter 7 with speaking as reading, writing and reading as being meaningfully the same, is fucking Derrida!! Derrida has this whole thing about genesis and when I read the bottom of page 51, I flashed back immediately to sitting in that class and losing my mind. And it isn’t just that, there’s references ot Barthes, some pretty in depth conversation about deconstruction of the text, etc. It’s the kind of philosophy, frankly, that I’m just not into. This isn’t a sin (That I am currently both writing and reading) against Detective Pony, per se, but I am right there with Acorn when, in the next line, he goes, “What in the Christ-shitting fuck are you talking about?” which was basically how I experienced 75% of my Lit Crit class, if you follow with, “and is there any reason other than intellectual masturbation?”

But I mean, seriously, I genuinely need to know what kind of formal education this writer has, because the things and ideas referenced here are very very specific critical ideas, and unless you’re a literature or philosophy major, or just a fucking weirdo, these are not ideas you’re likely to have come into contact with. And I mean, I guess the point is to both take down the absolute elitist level of self-pleasure people get from discussing these ideas that I have very very fucking strong feelings on, but also, at the same time is it not REWARDING those of us who know this inane bullshit? I mean, who among us doesn’t like to feel like a special girl and get their head patted for being ‘in the know’? It’s the whole reason elitism EXISTS.

And eventually Anna has no choice, before in a sense, destroying him, but to call him on that, to make it clear that all this high-minded language is meant to do is to separate the reader from the actual idea, something that actually bars human connection more than it helps it. And even having this higher-level education, I don’t necessarily disagree. There’s no reason, for example, to use intradiegetic and extradiegetic when you could use in or out of universe, or in or out of narrative, both of which are easily understandable to most English speakers. And there’s for sure no fucking reason to reinvent literary terminology by using the absolutely fuck-stupid words Doylist and Watsonian, which is a bunch of people with no literature education deciding that they do want gatekeeper vocabulary, but also don’t want to open a book long enough to discover these words actually exist. Talk about things that are my fucking killswitch.

Which makes me think of, and leads me to, my next subject:

Pharmakon: LORD, the whole fucking pharmakon thing ahah. I do get it, I’m not stupid, so when he’s referring to this idea of the poison and the cure, he’s talking about the work itself, but more than that, he’s talking about his own insertion in the work, and the earlier references to sincerity, honesty, and the contract of creation.

And part of that, which occurred to me as I was watching it but rang even still truer in written form, is this tension between actual intelligence and depth and this faux-depth, you know what I’m talking about, it’s Evangelion, it’s that one guy from your college class. One thing I really enjoyed about this book is that it brings up the question, repeatedly, of “Is this legitimate analysis, or am I talking out my ass?” and then refuses to answer that, I think because the author-as-character doesn’t himself know, and maybe even the writer of the work. Maybe, instead, it’s both. Maybe it is in fact asking us questions about our own lives, or maybe it’s a bunch of fucking references just slapped together, and maybe which it is changes based on the situation or the moment.

Actually, the weakest parts of the book are when it falls back to the toilet humor, and I will say that until I fucking drop--whenever it gets into “shitting everywhere” or Pawneee being drunk or whatever, I roll my eyes. BUT, but, I wonder if part of what that intensely fucking annoying plot point is doing is reminding us that this is, in some ways, a childish work, both in its literal source material and in the “humor” and “wisdom” of the creator. Not letting us think that just because we’re writing in terza rima and making Derrida jokes that this is, in whole and entire, an ELEVATED work. In being the poison and the cure, it is both high and low literature

There are so many good lines in this, especially about writing

“...he resorts toi weird bullshit in the hope that no one will notice its masking incompetence” Every writer who’s ever done something with odd structure or wording: Sucks teeth. I count myself in that sucking teeth thing--I think most writers have a form of imposter syndrome, I know I often am like “I’m a bad writer and also not good. Anything good I ever wrote was long ago” and that may or may not be true, but I think this messaging hits very close to the heart for a lot of writers who try experimental things. Certainly there are plenty who are up their own ass, but there are also plenty who wonder if they’re covering for lack of skill in the classic way.

“Why is that text ‘right’? It’s the original one sure, but why does originality have any moral value attached to it?” --me saying ‘my city now’ about all my blorbos.

Actually, I suppose while we’re on writing, let’s talk about the end of this book, because I think the end of this book really about writing, and about taking the text and committing violence against it to serve your own means. Putting yourself in your writing is sold as a positive, and I don’t think the story is necessarily saying that it is a negative, but I think what it ends up coming down on is that your characters and your text deserve to be more than a way for you to work out your demons and fucking study yourself. That we have total control over the narrative, and so, we can only remove ourselves so much FROM that. Even when we “give up” control, can we really? And what does that make us as both creator and destroyer?

Anyway, I have a million others things I could talk about or say but tis is already much longer than it was meant to be while still feeling like I have not really reached a conclusion and am also trapped in a labyrinth of my own making. But, unlike Dirk, I can make the choice to leave it without having my narrative literally have to rise up against me, and I have to finish getting the parts in place for a vacation.

*Later on I am going to speak about how studying a field means that sometimes you have to have a comprehensive knowledge of things you don’t like. I think of this whenever I hear a literature major complaining about having to read the Western canon. Like, you are studying the field over time. We can argue, not incorrectly, that how the canon was formed is annoying, but like…Hemingway was HUGELY influential to modern literature, to bring in an author I do genuinely dislike. You have to have an understanding of how we got here, and because of political, social, and historical realities, that involves reading a lot of dead white men. This why some schools, like the one I attended, allow you to have a concentration, like a minorlet, in some different kinds of Literature, without having a separate degree. Anyway, you should be arguing about reading MORE, and broadening our base as scholars of the craft, rather than replacing SHIT YOU SHOULD KNOW. I am utterly unimpressed and completely understand why it is considered a puff degree every time I talk to an English major who doesn’t understand references to fucking Steinbeck or Bronte or Dostoyevsky. You do, in fact, have to read a lot, including things you do not care for to have a broad understanding and appreciation of how literature is CRAFTED and historically steered. Anyway, read Dante, bitches.

**THis is not the same as broad analysis, like, for example, what I do in liveblogs or what I’m doing here. I love that shit. It’s also not COMPLAINTS, which unfortunately is what the internet thinks when you say things like “Be critical of your media” when what that really meant was to engage with it meaningfully and thoughtfully, some of which, ironically, is fucking elided over time by the tendency to complain about media in these black and white, right and wrong terms and so we FIND FAULT instead of CRITIQUE anyway all this to say: Criticism, as I am speaking of it here, is the field of how to think about things, and, regrettably, a lot of French fucks masturbating furiously onto paper

#doc reads #I guess???

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jimipoo · 2 years

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gif creds to the owner!

prompt: You give Jimin what he deserves after showing up in a cute little mini skirt.

read part one here for a lil context !

pairings: ta!jimin x f!oc

word count: 2.2k

genre: smut (minors dni) and a widdle fluff

warnings: like i said, smut!!! suggestive themes, teasing, oral sex (m. receiving), swearing, jimin’s down bad or is it oc or both, slight mentions of masturbation lik literally one line

a/n: dis is a request from anon :) pls bear w me this is my first smut if it sounds awkward or monotonous im sorry,,, I'm not very proud of this solely bc of that but i tried my best >.< feedback is much appreciated thx u and enjoyyy ;333

There’s really just something about you that sends Jimin’s mind into a pool of frenzy.

And he’s had it with you. By the number of times you’ve teased him during and out of class, the number of times you’ve left him feeling frustrated—running into an empty stall to do his business wasn’t even enough anymore to relieve his seemingly never-ending frustrations that he’s been harboring because of you.

You were certainly not that easy to get, he must say. Even after that one incident, you both had that almost had him lose his fucking mind by how good you felt beneath him, you made sure to leave him wanting more. And you were right, because if there’s one thing Jimin wants more than anything, it’s you. To put it in the simplest of words, he was down bad. It sounds a bit shameful really, but Jimin’s an impatient man, and you’ve made clear enough that you want him, and yet every time he reaches his arms to get to you, you step away.

And despite how teasing and frustrating you can be, he loves the little games you propose, because the more you see how his eyes swirl with lust with every show you give him, the more fun and arousing it is for you.

It's like playing a game of Cat and Mouse, where he is the cat and you were his little mouse.

—

You never minded taking teenie-tiny risks.

In fact, you lived for it. You lived for that sense of thrill that seeps through your veins every time you'd do something that you'd know would have consequences beneath it. And you are willing to take risks, in every circumstance that would benefit your pleasure. Especially when that risk rewarded you to have the best orgasm you’ve ever had with anyone. And the best part is, it was with a man that is seemingly impossible to be so fucking attractive, the man you've lusted after ever since you laid your eyes upon him.

A little secret, you suppose. A hidden joy. You knew the consequences behind every soft moan that slipped past your lips, every kiss, every touch, and every sinful noise that echoed throughout the whole room. Yet you enjoyed it, you thrived for it. Who knew your least favorite professor’s teaching assistant could be the object of your desire and pleasure?

As much as you want to throw yourself onto his arms and let him take you however he desires, you couldn’t. At least not yet, you don’t want everything to go too fast and end too quickly—watching him become even more visibly frustrated with your little games by the look he gives you every time you’d shamelessly tease him, you can’t help but do it even more. The shape of his eyes would shift into something you’d think were soft and innocent looking at first, it’s almost as if he was devouring you with his own eyes. And you’d let him, it’s a plus that he looks insanely hot while doing it, so, he can’t really blame you.

However, it's a bit hypocritical, considering how you're currently pushed up against the classroom door preoccupied with a pair of lips roughly sucking each and every exposed skin of your neck.

"Jimin," you attempt to say, although it comes out in a whiny tone. He hums in response but continues to trail kisses up to your jawline, the warmth of his lips challenges you to give in once again, you stifle a moan as you try to regain your composure, "Baby—"

Jimin plants one last kiss on your cheek before leaning back to look at you, swollen lips and eyes laced with slight concern, "Yeah?"

"Let me take care of you," you suggest, your hand reaching to cup his hardened cock. Jimin struggles to form a response and continues to stare at you, although the look in his eyes tells you something you couldn't quite make out. He wants you.

"Do you want it?" you ask in a low voice, he gulps and nods. Yes, he wants it, very badly.

You grab his hand and pull him to the nearest chair, without breaking eye contact, and a smirk that crept your glossy lips. Jimin quietly sits and you notice how he grew even more nervous the moment you straddle his lap.

You watch the way his eyes slowly travel down to your exposed thighs and lick his lips shamelessly, the tingling feeling in the pit of your stomach shoots down to your core. Fuck.

You almost let out a chuckle at how much you affect him when you hadn't even touched him yet.

“You seemed awfully frustrated in class earlier,” you start, your hands reaching to slowly unbutton his shirt while paying attention to the way his chest rises when he breathes, if you could lean even closer you’d probably hear how loud his heart is pounding right now.

“Did you like my skirt?” you ask, unbuttoning another one before looking up at him innocently.

“I love it,” Jimin finally responds, eyes still fixated on the exposed skin of your thighs, he brings his right hand to caress one of them. With every unbutton of his shirt, the more his chest gets exposed, your eyes catch the large black ink permanently painted on his rib, a tattoo. "Oh my god," you softly gasp, he couldn't be any hotter.

Your fingers reach to touch it, "That's fucking hot," you state, lowering to plant kisses on his chest, breaths getting heavier with every kiss. You travel down, sliding off his lap and you sit on the ground with your back arched to accentuate the curve of your ass.

You look up at him, a teasing smile forming on your lips to drive him over the edge.

He looks at you with bedroom eyes, the view from where you're sitting is heavenly, yet sinful. Unbuttoned shirt, chest heaving, legs spread, and a rather very prominent bulge between his thick thighs. He looks beautiful like this, and it's all for you to see.

It's too good to be true, really.

"Are you sure you want it?" you tease, hand massaging one of his thighs, you travel up to his upper thigh, fingers almost reaching his bulge. You wait for his response.

His breaths get heavier, “Hm?”

“Yes, fuck,” he breathes out, from the way he’s acting under your touch, it’s clear how desperate he’s getting and you love every bit of it. “Please suck me off.”

“Anything for you, Mr. Park.”

You kneel and scoot a little closer, your fingers reaching to unbutton his pants, you slowly unzip and you tuck your fingers underneath the waistband along with his underwear to drag it down low enough to let his cock spring free. You immediately wrap your fingers around it, this is the first time you've seen his cock up close, and you could say he was not one for the lengthy type, however, he makes up for it in girth.

It's perfect for your pussy, however, it's your mouth being used this time, and you're confident enough to fit all of it in your mouth.

Thinking about it already makes you drool like a hungry lion, panting, your delicious meat standing before you.

You spread his pre-cum along his length to make it a bit easier to stroke, looking up at him, he stares back at you with his fucked out expression, it seems the only thing running in his mind is you and your hand. "Mouth, please," he whines, it feels perfect, yet the only thing he wants right now is your mouth, he's fantasized about it for god knows how long, and he might just blow his load all over your hand before you even get to wrap your pretty lips around his cock.

And so, you lower your head to lick a long stripe along his length, keeping eye contact, his cock twitched by the friction of the buds of your tongue, you flicked it around his tip until you finally wrap your lips around it and sink down, taking every inch of his shaft until you slowly lift your head up, meeting his eyes as you release his cock. You do the same thing again and he inhales sharply, thighs clenching at the warmth of your mouth and he fights the urge to buck his hips and fuck your mouth right then and there.

For a moment, he admires how pretty and lewd you look sucking his cock. He couldn't help but tangle his fingers through your hair, if only he could keep this view forever, even re-playing it in his head as he jerks off to the thought of you wouldn’t be enough, it just won’t be vivid enough.

An imaginary light bulb flickers in Jimin’s brain.

He’d only do it if you’d give consent though, “I-Is it okay if I.. film you?” he manages to mutter, despite the moan he almost let out when you suck harder. You look at him with your mouth full and you release his cock with a pop. Jimin couldn’t quite read the look in your eyes, assuming this turns you off, he instantly panics.

“Y-you don’t have to say yes,” he stutters, you tilt your head teasingly, your right hand reaching to stroke his cock while you think of an answer. You'll be the death of him.

"It's too much, I shouldn't have asked—"

"Just make sure I look pretty blowing you."

You always look pretty to Jimin, even if it meant with your mouth full of his cock. Jimin immediately hunches over to reach for his phone in the back pocket of his pants, swiping it open, he quickly taps the camera app and points his camera towards you the moment you came into frame. He taps the record button.

When you heard the beep, you went back to what you were doing before. You plant a kiss on his tip before you fully wrap your lips around it, slowly this time, your eyes were fixated on the camera. In the background, you notice the way Jimin's facial expression instantly changes when you sink down, you take that opportunity to suck even harder, and faster this time. "A-ah,"

You release, "You like that?" you lick a long stripe along his cock once again. "Please don't stop," he pants, repeating the same sentence, the tone of his voice gets whinier every time.

Jimin's knuckles almost turn white with the way he's gripping on his phone, his other hand sits atop of your head, guiding your movement as you bob your head on his cock, with every slide, his muscles tighten and he feels that he's about to reach his climax.

"I-I'm about to—"

You release his cock from your mouth to exchange the same movement with your hand, "Cum on my chest," you suggest, at this point, Jimin has forgotten about his phone, as it had already been abandoned on the floor. Jimin stands up quickly, his legs feeling like it's about to collapse.

You pump his cock as quick as you can, "Oh, f-fuck," it wasn't long until ropes of white are being painted all over your chest, some even reaching your chin. Jimin is catching his breath above you, visibly fucked out and he looked extremely attractive even so. This has been the most fun you've had in a while, (and when he fucked you over his desk a week ago).

"Shit, I forgot about my phone," Jimin quickly grabs his abandoned phone on the floor, dusting it off, he notices that it was still recording. He was too out of it to even realize he's dropped it. He stops the video and shoves it back into his back pocket. His eyes land on you and his cum that's currently painted beautifully on your chest.

You chuckle, "So, you're gonna get some tissues or.."

"O-of course, sorry," he quickly fixes himself before walking over to his desk to grab a box of tissues, grabbing two, he crouches down and gently wipes them off of you. Looking at him, you take the opportunity to ask him something you've been meaning to.

"Why do you get so shy around me?" you ask innocently, hands reaching to button his shirt, and his shy demeanor is back once again, as if you weren't sucking him off 10 minutes ago. It's cute, you think.

"You're just," he pauses to think, "You're just a little intimidating sometimes,"

You giggle at that, intimidated by you? "Okay well, you were so bold to ask if you could film me giving you a blowjob," you joke.

"I-it's safe in my phone, I promise!" he panics, heat forming across his cheeks. You laugh, you think he's adorable, given how he would always walk around the campus with his intimidating yet, attractive poker face and scare the hell out of students when he's actually a cute little soft boy. "It's okay, Jimin. Keep it for your future fantasies in your bed." his cheeks reddened.

"Til next time, Mr. Park," Next time?

Before Jimin could even reply, a knock interrupts him.

"Jimin? What have you been doing in there?" a familiar deep voice voices out behind the door, it's your professor.

Fuck.

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uvobreakmylegs · 3 years

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Haze

i saw a meme and it made me want to write a Morel piece. then @ramwrites suggested making him a banshee and i loved it

i have definitely bastardized banshee lore but sometimes you gotta do what you gotta do for a story

Warnings: manipulation, mentions of death

A hiking trip up to a nearby mountain trail had been on a list of things to do for you and your friend group for a while. Your friend Denali had suggested it, and she assured you all that it wouldn't be anything too difficult; it was just a beginner's trail that would consist of a few hours of walking up the trail and back. And then maybe you all could grab some food after.

You were pretty excited for it, as the idea sounded refreshing to you. Another thing that added to the anticipation of the hike was the fact that it had also been a little while since everyone in the friend group had been able to hang out together.

Or more accurately, it had been a while since you were able to make it to one of these friend meetups.

Some kind of bad luck had been plaguing you recently; the last few times an outing for the four of you had been planned, something unexpected came up for you and you needed to cancel last minute. Be it work obligations, family emergencies or just you getting sick the night before, it had been a while since you hung out with them like you once had.

Aiden, Denali and Colton all seemed to take it well, but you swore you could sense a growing annoyance in them. They seemed to be shorter with you in texts, and there had been a few times now that you'd sent a picture or said something in the group chat and it had been ignored. You worried that they were starting to think you were making up excuses instead of genuinely being unable to see them, but every time you tried to talk with them privately, they told you that there wasn't anything wrong and that you were just overreacting.

That hadn't made you feel any better. You just felt like a bad friend.

But today would be different.

You made a point to ensure that you had the day completely cleared for the hike, getting the day off from your work well in advance and doing your best to stay away from anything that might make you sick. The morning of your friends had all confirmed that it was still on, and after a little while they were going to rendezvous at your place to pick you up before you all headed out to the trail.

Things were going to be different today, and you were excited for it.

And things were different.

But maybe not in a way that you had expected.

You didn't notice the second car that had pulled up behind Denali's initially when they stopped outside your place. You only noticed that something was different when you approached Denali's car and noticed that one of the seats in the back had been taken up by a pile of backpacks, leaving no room for you.

When Aiden stepped out of the first car as you came out to greet him, he explained the situation. Without your knowledge, Aiden had invited someone from his work, a woman named Fawn. Evidently during those times when you couldn't make it, your friends had been hanging out with her a lot, and they had figured that she should be invited on this trip as well.

That they were hanging out with other people didn't upset you; they had every right to spend their time with people that were able to show up. But you felt slightly hurt that you hadn't been asked or even given a heads-up that this was happening. You had been anticipating spending time with your old friend group for this trip and instead you would be trying to reconnect while also navigating a new group dynamic.

But you decided not to say anything about it. You just nodded and smiled when Aiden told you that you'd be riding with Fawn in her car. Although it was unexpected, you told yourself that new people wasn't necessarily a bad thing. You could probably make good friends with her while also berating yourself for your first reaction to her being disappointment. That sort of attitude was no good.

Despite all of that, you quickly came to feel that you didn't like Fawn very much.

For one thing, the woman was one of the most reckless drivers you had ever come across. Virtually blowing through stop signs, running several lights and swerving around drivers that she felt weren't going fast enough, there were several times during the trip that you felt she was going to cause an accident. She also passed by Denali's car for some reason, and when you asked her why, she said she thought it would be fun to see who could get to the mountain first. You didn't agree, but there was literally nothing you could do but hold onto the inside of the passenger side door for dear life. The motion sickness you'd gotten was so bad that by the time you made it to the parking lot next to the hiking trail, you'd needed to lean against the side of her car and take in deep breaths in an attempt to not throw up your breakfast.

At least she seemed pretty apologetic when she saw you like that, and she offered you a bottle of water which you gladly took. But the second Denali's car pulled up she seemed to switch her focus to that completely, going up to the rest of the group to greet them. She had something of a one-track mind, it seemed. It didn't make her a bad person, but you still wanted a bit of distance for now.

After recovering and making sure you had everything you needed in your backpack, you approached Aiden while the others were getting ready.

“Hey,” you said, “you think you and I could switch places for the car ride back?”

“Oh c'mon, it couldn't have been that bad,” he said, “you'll hurt her feelings if you do that. She really wants to know you.”

Fawn walked up right after, and since you weren't willing to criticize her driving right in front of her, you dropped it.

Meanwhile the mountain loomed above all of you. Tall and imposing with a rather dense white fog that almost obscured the very top of it. There were parts that were heavily forested, and you briefly wondered if you would need to worry about anything like bears or some other kind of large wild animal.

“How far up are we going?” you asked Denali.

“Not too far. We'll be sticking to the marked trail; there's a cool little observation deck at the end of it,” she told you, “I figure we'll head towards that and then come back the same way.”

You nodded, but before you could give any real response Colton called her over for something, and she left to help him. Aiden and Fawn were chatting about something, so you stood silent and at the ready, looking up once more at the mountain.

Despite the distance, you swore you saw something moving. You wanted to say it was some large kind of four-legged creature, though it was impossible to tell what exactly it was.

“Are there bears on the mountain?” you asked aloud.

“Nah.”

That was all the response you got.

For about ten minutes after the hike started, Fawn had stayed at the back with you, asking you some basic questions about yourself that you would in turn ask her once you had answered. You hoped that the interaction wasn't as awkward as it had felt to you. Maybe it was but she also didn't want to say anything about it.

Then when your group came across an old, crumbling well, Fawn had run up towards Aiden to get some better pictures of the structure, and when the group began to move again, she chose to stay there next to him.

Denali had taken the lead with Colton right behind. They were talking, though what they were talking about you couldn't be sure as you only caught bits and pieces of the conversation. A few steps behind them were Aiden and Fawn, talking about something that was going on at their workplace. And a few steps behind those two was you, trailing behind the group and unable to join either conversation. Although Aiden had said that Fawn wanted to know you, she hadn't said much of substance to you before she turned her attention back to him. Although maybe that was your fault. Maybe it really was obvious that you didn't care for her much. You thought that you were doing a decent job at being polite, but maybe she could tell that you were still a bit annoyed about her driving earlier.

Or maybe she just wanted to talk to Aiden right now and you were overreacting again.

You weren't sure.

It just felt like you were being excluded.

Of course. The first time in forever that you were able to make it to a meet-up with them, and it felt like you weren't wanted.

You sighed to yourself as you walked behind silently, trying to tell yourself that it was unreasonable to be thinking like that and that you wouldn't have been invited if they didn't want you there. The hike had just started; you couldn't decide that the whole thing would be bad just because of a rough beginning.

At least for now you could enjoy the scenery, and you looked about the woods as you walked along the trail, noting the different types of trees and plants and just how many of them surrounded you as you walked by on the trail. You stopped now and then to take a few pictures with your phone. Although you could hear the distinct chirping of birds in the distance, you didn't manage to see any, and despite the movement you thought you had seen while in the parking lot, it didn't seem like there were any other animals in the area. Denali had said this was an easy trail; maybe people frequented it enough that most animals avoided any areas close to it. That was too bad, but not that big of a deal. At least you were still getting nice pictures of the forest.

Your group came across a wide set of wooden stairs with a wooden barrier on either side after a bit, beginning a steeper ascent towards the higher parts of the mountain. Nothing had really changed within the group, though you noted that the conversations had mostly died down in an effort to appreciate the nature around you. Colton was also frequently looking behind to make sure everyone was still there. The two of you managed to lock eyes at one point, and you smiled at him. He gave back something of a half-smile before looking back in front of him. Maybe it was just a coincidence, but you noted that he didn't look back after that.

The walk continued, and all of you were quiet now, looking about the scenery. Some of them occasionally made remarks whenever they spotted something unusual, like an oddly shaped tree trunk or rock. You stayed silent, though, remembering your messages that had gone ignored and worried that if you said anything, that would be ignored as well.

Were you being too anxious about this? Probably. You sighed to yourself again as you tried to keep those kinds of thoughts from running amok.

Just distract yourself by looking around, you told yourself.

You paused when you glanced over to your right.

It looked like there was some sort of stone pillar standing in the distance. The dark rock was covered in moss and vines, but the shape was such that it couldn't have been a natural formation. Someone human had put it there some time ago. It also looked as though there was similar wreckage behind the pillar, and you wondered if it may have once been some kind of building.

Taking out your phone and pulling up the camera, you zoomed in on the the ruined structure. You briefly glanced over to your friends as you did, making sure they weren't leaving you too far behind.

But when you looked back to the phone, you let out a small sound of surprise.

There was a man standing by the pillar.

Your eyes immediately went back to the pillar as you wondered where this guy had come from.

The shadows over in that area made things a bit darker, but you were able to see a general shape that looked like a person. You squinted slightly as you looked at him, trying to make out any details. But strangely, you couldn't. It was just the shape of a rather broad man, and as you continued to look, you found that it looked almost wispy, like a few pieces of cloud had floated down and arranged themselves to imitate what a person might look like.

…. Why did it feel like it was looking back at you?

“What are you doing?”

Aiden's voice called to you, and you snapped out of your stupor to find that the whole group was standing there waiting on you.

Your mouth fell open to try and offer some explanation, to tell them about what you were looking at, but when you glanced back to where the shape had been-

He wasn't there.

And when you looked back to the camera, you found he was gone from there as well.

Had you imagined it?

The entire thing had happened within mere seconds. The pillar wasn't large enough that he could be hiding behind it, and no one could move that fast without making some bit of noise. Looking between the view from your camera and the pillar a few more times, you decided that you had imagined it. Though you were certain you had seen something standing there, there was no way that could have actually been the case. Maybe a shadow just looked weird within the lighting at that moment?

Aiden called out to you again.

“Sorry!” you called out, putting the phone away as you hurried up the stairs to rejoin them.

“What you were looking at?” Fawn asked you.

“Something back there,” you explained, “ it looked like there were some ruins of a building.”

“Oh, did you get a picture? Can I see?”

“Ah, sorry, I didn't.”

Fawn pouted, asking “why not?”

“I thought I saw someone.”

They both looked at you strangely.

“You couldn't get a picture because you thought you saw someone?” Aiden asked.

“I don't know. It was just weird,” you said, getting a bit flustered as you continued “I thought I saw a guy for a second – or something that looked like a guy – but then he was gone.”

“... 'Something' that 'looked' like a guy,” Aiden repeated.

“Oh wow, I didn't know you could see ghosts!” Fawn exclaimed, giggling a little, “we've got a coworker who swears that the printer room is haunted. Maybe we should bring her here and see if she also sees something.”

…. You weren't sure if she was making fun of you or not, so you stayed silent. Aiden was still looking at you like you had two heads while Fawn was pulling out her own phone, preparing to walk back down to take a look at the ruins herself. Then Denali called out to the three of you, asking what the hold-up was. That was enough to spur you to begin walking again.

“Aw, I wanted to get a picture,” Fawn said as you began climbing the stairs once more.

Fawn then looked to Aiden as he said to her “we can always snap a picture on the way back.”

“That's true.”

“And did Nell say that the printer room was haunted? I thought she said it was the third floor bathroom,” Aiden then said.

“It could've been both. According to her a lot of places are haunted. Something about weird energies,” Fawn responded.

They were talking about something from their work again, and since you still had no way to join in, you walked behind them in silence. As your group continued the ascent, you glanced behind to see if there was anything weird with the pillar from this angle. There was a nagging feeling at the back of your mind, and you felt as if there was someone watching you.

There was nothing, and though the feeling wasn't going away, you told yourself to forget about it.

Time passed as the clouds parted some to show how the sun had moved higher in the sky, and your group came to a wooden platform with benches and tables that were clearly meant as a rest stop for any hikers. The others decided that it was a good time to have lunch and settled themselves at a table. You, on the other hand, were still feeling some side effects from Fawn's driving earlier, and as you really didn't want to get sick in the middle of the hike, you opted not to eat. You sat with them at first, but when you once again felt like you couldn't contribute to the conversation, you stood up, the amateur photographer in you feeling fulfilled somewhat as you snapped a few more pictures of the scenery.

You wandered over to a different part of the platform, leaning your elbows on the wooden fencing as you looked out at the forest.

At the beginning of your trip it had been fairly overcast, and only after you had started this excursion had the clouds thinned and allowed the sun to shine through. But just as the weather started to clear up, it seemed to be turning overcast again as a mist began to fall, seemingly sliding from the top of the mountain and through the thick forest of trees. Was rain a possibility? Maybe, and of course you hadn't brought anything with you if that did happen. You had made a point to bring a first aid kit in case either you or someone else got hurt, but nothing to protect you in case the weather turned bad.

A flash of white caught your eye while you were caught up in your thoughts.

Glancing to your left, you found yourself staring at a white rabbit.

It was nice to finally see some wildlife for the first time since this hike had started and at first glance it seemed perfectly normal. But the more you looked at it, the more.... Odd it seemed.

It was sitting upright facing away from you, not moving at all. That didn't seem quite normal, since you thought most rabbits were inclined to hunker down and try to blend in with their surroundings if they encountered something they thought was a threat. This one didn't seem to be hiding, it just sat still, and the more you looked, the more it didn't seem like it was even breathing. It also seemed strange to find a pure white rabbit up in the mountains. The color was striking against the earthly tones of the forest, and presumably that should've meant that it would have been easy prey for any natural predators that roamed the area. In fact, it didn't look the slightest bit dirty, making you wonder if it was someone's pet that had escaped.

And the more you looked at it, the more something about it just seemed to be off. Like it had some kind of weird energy to it.

And yet you felt an urge to get closer to it.

The instant you moved closer it reacted by twisting it's head around to face you, and you saw it's face for the first time.

Or rather, it's lack of one.

No eyes, no nose, no mouth, no sort of features whatsoever. It's face, and the rest of it for that matter, was completely blank, and it seemed less and less like a living creature the longer you looked at it.

You stared at it, unsure of how you were supposed to react to such a thing.

“The rabbit doesn't have a face,” you said aloud.

Your friends didn't hear you. In their defense, you hadn't spoken all that loudly.

When you moved again it bolted, vanishing behind surrounding tree trunks.

Follow it

Maybe it was because of the shock you felt at seeing that thing that you didn't even question the thought. You just climbed over the fencing and headed out in the same direction you had seen it run off to.

It wasn't long before you caught sight of it again, and once more you were struck by how odd this thing was. It was sitting up again, staring at you. Almost like it was waiting for you.

Did you really want to follow a faceless rabbit into the woods? Apparently you did, because when you got close again it ran off, and the process repeated itself as it began to lead you through the forest, taking you further and further away from the hiking trail and down an unmarked path. The rabbit never got too far before it would stop and wait for you to catch up, and it stayed still during the few times that you would pause for a break. It really was waiting for you, and somehow, it didn't seem like it was running in any random direction. More like it was leading you somewhere.

A haze had seemed to form in your mind. Somehow, none of this seemed questionable to you, that you were running off in pursuit of a white rabbit like a heroine from a Lewis Carroll book. Or at least some darker version of that tale given the rabbit's lack of a face which you still weren't able to make sense of. There was no reason for you to be running off of the trail like this, into terrain that you weren't familiar with, but every time you caught sight of the rabbit, something inside you told you that you needed to go after it.

You did just that for some time until the haze finally broke.

In the midst of your pursuit, you happened to step on a hollow, rotted log, and the wood was weak enough that when you put your weight on it, your foot went right through. You shrieked, stumbling forward as you desperately pulled your foot out. To add to your panic, there had been a fair amount of bugs living inside of the log, some of which had attached themselves to your shoe, and you kicked your foot out rapidly to get them off of you. They scattered, and you stumbled back before landing awkwardly on your ankle. Pain shot through you, and you fell against the trunk of a tree where you sank to the forest floor, one hand steadying yourself while the other was over your chest as you tried to calm yourself down.

What the hell am I doing?

The thought struck you. Why had you gone off the trail like this? And for some weird rabbit creature, of all things? What was the point of this excursion? What if you got hurt?

You put some weight on the foot that had gone through the log and you hissed as another sharp bolt of pain hit you.

Scratch that. You'd already managed to hurt yourself.

It seemed like your ankle was sprained. Clearly you had landed on it wrong after getting your foot out of the log.

Ah, this was the worst.

You gingerly removed your shoe and tried to get a look at the damage. It didn't look too bad yet, but there was definitely something wrong with it as you only felt pain every time you moved it. How fast does the swelling set in? At least you'd had the forethought of bringing a few rolls of elastic bandage wraps, though you felt like you'd need some help to get it properly wrapped.

Which meant you'd need to find your way back to your friends.

How far away were you from the trail by now? You weren't even sure how much time had passed since you had left them. It was all so strange, that you had gotten such extreme tunnel vision like that and had run off. And because of that, you had gotten hurt and would have a hard time making your way back, or else they would need to come in to find you.

They'd be upset with you, wouldn't they?

You probably wouldn't be able to continue the hike, and you were sure there'd be some resentment if this outing was cut short because of you. Maybe you could just wait at the rest area? They'd be coming down the same path when they came back, so maybe they could continue the hike and you could rest up and join them on the return trip. It'd be boring for you but then at least the trip wouldn't be a waste for them.

You sighed as you began to shimmy your shoe back onto your foot. Today was a bust. First the thing with Fawn, then the way it seemed like you were being ignored, and now this.

They hadn't even said anything when you jumped the fence to chase after the rabbit, had they? Not that you'd really been paying attention, so maybe they had, but they sure hadn't gone after you.

… Not that it was on them to look after you. You were an adult and therefore not their responsibility. It was wrong to think like that.

You sighed again.

Everything that had happened today really had been your own fault, huh? It was all you could do to hope nothing else bad would happen.

You remembered some old superstitious saying about bad things happening in threes. If that was true, then maybe your bad luck was over for the day.

Trying to get off of that particular train of thought, you looked about for something that could work as a walking stick, something strong enough to hold your weight for when you made your way back to the path.

A voice called out from far away, and when you paused to listen, you heard the voices of your friends calling out your name.

That was actually really good.

A new creeping fear was that you would be lost in the woods and have a hard time finding the path, but as long as they were calling out to you, you could use the sounds of their voices to find your way back. As you were about to push yourself to your feet, you allowed yourself to be a little hopeful, feeling that the bad things were done for the day.

You heard something then, as though something had dropped onto the ground next to you.

In an automatic response, you turned your head towards the sound and found a pipe laying atop the dirt and fallen leaves.

Had that been there earlier?

It was moderately sized, a black stem with a little bit of intricate gold detailing on either end, while the bowl at the end of the pipe was more of a darker bronze.

Wouldn't you have noticed this earlier? Or had you been that distracted when you'd been desperately shaking all of the bugs off of your foot?

Without really thinking about why you reached out to grab it as you wondered to yourself if there were still people these days who smoked using pipes.

It was warm when your fingers made contact, and as you raised it up to inspect it more, you noted how clean it was. If it had been out here for a day or so there would've been more dirt on it, but with the state it was in, someone must have dropped it not too long ago.

At least it gave you some comfort knowing that you weren't the only one who had wandered off the trail, though you were probably still one of the dumbest to do so since you had gone off in chase of a freaky rabbit.

Should you take the pipe with you? Was there some sort of lost and found box down at the parking lot? Would the person who lost it even still be looking for it, or would they have already accepted that it was gone forever?

With those thoughts swirling around your head, you didn't notice the sound of footsteps that came closer until they stopped right next to you.

“Are you alright?”

A man's voice broke you from your thoughts, and when you turned your gaze upwards, you found an older man standing above you, leaning an arm against the same tree trunk you were resting against. White hair, a gray dress shirt with a red tie and wearing black sunglasses despite the clouds overhead, he looked down at you with a clear look of concern on his face.

“Ah – yes! Well, mostly,” you said once you realized he was waiting for an answer.

“Mostly?”

“I think I sprained my ankle.”

He knelt down next to you, asking “may I?” as he motioned to your aforementioned ankle. You nodded, and he inspected your ankle. He was gentle with you, looking over the injured area carefully and apologizing any time he caused you some discomfort.

“How bad is it?” you asked him after a moment.

“I'd say you were right. It looks sprained.”

You groaned a little, disappointed that you were correct.

“Do you have anything to wrap it with?” he asked.

“Yeah, in my backpack,” you answered, “I was gonna get my friends to help me with it once I got back to them.”

“Where are they?”

“Back by the path, I think. It sounded like they were looking for me just now.”

However, you could no longer hear them. In fact, the whole forest seemed oddly silent now, the only exception being the wind that would at times whistle through the trees. And had it gotten darker?

“That's weird,” you said more to yourself, “I know I heard them.”

The man who sat patiently before you, with your ankle still in his care, looked about for any sign of your friends before he spoke again.

“Well, I'm here now,” he told you, “care if I patch you up instead?”

“Um, as long as it isn't too much trouble?”

He smiled at you.

“It's no trouble at all.”

Saying that it would be easier for him to work on you, the man carefully picked you up and moved you so that you sat on a nearby boulder, kneeling down in front of you again as he waited for you to fish out the bandages from your pack.

“I'm Morel, by the way.”

You gave him a small smile in return, introducing yourself as well as you handed off the bandages.

“What are you doing out here?” he asked as he began to wrap up your ankle.

“Hiking with friends.”

“I figured that much,” he said, grinning a little, “but the trail is a good distance from here. How did you end up off of it?”

“Ah....”

Despite the pain in your ankle and the circumstances between you and your friends, it hadn't been lost on you that Morel was pretty handsome. A bit rugged, but in a good way. And though you knew nothing about this man – for all you knew he had a wife and child at home waiting for him – you didn't want to say something that might make him think you were an idiot. Telling him that you had gone chasing after a rabbit would definitely make him think you were an idiot.

And you didn't want to mention that you thought it had no face. Then he'd think you were crazy.

“I saw some ruins down at the base of the mountain; thought it'd be cool if I went exploring and see if I could find some more,” you lied.

“Unfortunately, any ruins would be down at the bottom. Nobody would've built anything this far up,” Morel explained.

“Ah, I see.”

You stayed quiet a moment, looking back in the direction where you'd heard your friends calling. You still couldn't hear them, and it worried you that something may have happened.

There was also that white mist from earlier that had grown thicker while Morel wrapped your ankle, slowly settling down around you and making the scene around you look more ethereal.

“Why did you wander out on your own? One of them should've come with you,” Morel said suddenly.

“Oh.... I kinda, um, ran off without telling them anything.”

So much for not sounding like an idiot.

Morel paused, glancing back up at you as he asked “did something happen?”

“... Not really? I mean, kind of, but...” you trailed off for a moment, “it's mostly my fault. I'm the one who isn't trying hard enough to talk it out with them. Ah, I really hope I haven't ruined this trip.”

“I doubt you running off could've ruined it.”

“I hope not. But still, I'll need to apologize, maybe take all of them out for a meal after to make up for it,” you said.

There was a sad expression on Morel's face when he looked up at you after you said that. Something in the way he frowned and his brows furrowed at your words made it seem like he knew something you didn't.

You didn't get a chance to question him on it as he finished up wrapping your ankle, handing the remaining bandages back to you as he announced “all done.”

“Ah – Thank you.”

He seemed a bit more cheerful now, though he looked off in the direction you had been looking in.

“Those friends of your still on the trail?” he asked.

“I'm not sure? It really did sound like they were looking for me earlier.”

“I see. Then if they're looking for you maybe we should stay put. Wait for them to get to us. It won't do any good if we all get lost trying to find each other.”

That made sense, and you nodded.

Morel sat down next to you, the boulder being large enough to fit both of you, though he did need to squeeze in a bit closer than you would normally be comfortable with a complete stranger. You found that you didn't mind much, though. Although for the sake of your friend group you wanted to be found soon, you didn't dislike the idea of spending more time alone with Morel. He seemed trustworthy, and being in such close contact more than made up for all the stuff from earlier.

…. Good lord. Were you really this weak for a random guy you found attractive?

The mist seemed to be growing thicker, but you could still make out most of the trees that surrounded you.

“What are you doing up here, Morel?” you asked, “it doesn't look like you're dressed for hiking.”

“I live here.”

“Really? On the mountain?”

He nodded.

“Wow. I didn't know anybody lived up here. Is it just you or are there others?”

“There's a few of us up here, though my neighbors tend to keep to themselves,” he told you, “a lot of them just want to be left alone.”

It seemed surprising to you that there was more than one person who lived up on a mountain like this. Especially since you had been under the impression that the area was part of a park. Maybe his place had been built beforehand and he was grandfathered in somehow?

The more you thought about it, the more you felt that didn't make a lot of sense. But before you could voice that opinion, it was like the thought was forcibly torn from your mind, and something within you encouraged you to try and learn more about him.

“Are you one who wants to be left alone?” you asked him instead.

“For the most part,” he answered, “but I don't mind people on occasion. My neighbors, not so much.”

“Would they have gotten mad at me?”

“Definitely.”

“Guess I'm lucky you found me and not them,” you said.

He smiled at that, but didn't say anything, and you continued.

“Although if your neighbors want isolation, isn't it inconvenient that the trail's been set up here? Don't you have to worry about people trespassing?”

“Most people know not to go off the path,” Morel said, “though I guess you're not one of them.”

“It wasn't my fault!” you insisted, “there was a rabbit, and I just - I don't know, needed to follow it.”

Why had you done that again? You'd been questioning it before Morel found you but you'd gotten distracted. It was strange. And did the rabbit really have no face? Maybe your mind was just tired and had made it up or something and you just ran off because you were an idiot.

Where had it even gone, anyway?

Morel tilted his head, smirking at you.

“I thought you said you were looking for more ruins? You mean you were actually chasing after rabbits?” he asked.

….. You forgot that you lied.

Your fingers fiddled with the hem of your shirt while you looked away in embarrassment.

“.... I didn't want you to think I was stupid,” you mumbled.

He laughed at that, and you felt worse about your lie, turning your head away further as you made a point to not look at him.

“Sorry, sorry. I didn't mean it,” he said, one of his hands coming up to playfully tousle your hair. You glanced back at him then, and the sour look on your face lessened a little when you saw how he smiled at you.

“I've also gone off wandering after random things,” he continued, “I've hurt myself a few times, too, so don't feel bad.”

That made you feel a bit better, and you relaxed a little more.

“What kind of things have you gone wandering after?” you asked him.

“Things that you probably wouldn't believe if I told you.”

That answer was oddly cryptic, though you supposed that made two of you, since you were still too nervous to divulge the fact about the rabbit lacking a face. Maybe Morel had seen freakier things up here. But since he didn't seem to want to go into that, maybe it'd be better to steer the conversation away from the potentially supernatural.

“Were you wandering after something when you found me?” was your next question.

“No, not today. I was in the middle of looking for something I had lost.”

“Oh. Sorry,” you said.

“For what?”

“Distracting you, and making you wait here with me.”

“It's not that important,” Morel said, “and what kind of guy would I be if I left you out here by yourself? Especially with that fog that's settling in.”

“I'd probably be okay. Oh. Unless there's bears. Then I might not be.”

You remembered the shape you had seen when you had first arrived, and you asked him “are there bears on this mountain?”

“I've never seen any.”

You hummed at that, thinking again about what you had seen and trying to figure out what it was.

“Did you see one?” asked Morel.

“I don't know. I saw something weird when I was in the parking lot, and I'm still not sure what it was,” you explained, “I've seen some other stuff, too. Some a bit more freaky than a bear.”

“Like what?”

“.... Do you promise not to laugh at me?”

“I promise, I'm done laughing at you,” Morel said, grinning a little.

Despite being unsure if you could trust him in that regard, you decided to speak anyway.

“So, the rabbit that I saw earlier – I'm not really sure why I followed it, but I noticed it back at the rest area. It seemed kinda weird when I saw it, because it didn't look like it was breathing? And when I got closer, I swear, it didn't have a face. No features at all. It was just blank.”

You prepared yourself for him to laugh at you again. When he didn't say anything, you looked back to him.

Morel looked surprisingly neutral.

“That does sound strange,” was his reply.

“.... Do you believe me?”

Morel looked away from you, leaning back on his hands as his gaze seemed to go to the cloudy sky above the trees that surrounded the two of you.

“You know, I think I do. Living up here, I've had my fair share of strange occurrences. Not quite like that, but maybe I just haven't encountered that before.”

It was a relief to hear that he wasn't mocking you, and it was even more of a relief that he actually believed you, as you had been worried that his reaction might resemble what had happened earlier with Aiden and Fawn. Him believing you spurred you to speak more.

“I saw something before, too,” you said, “down near the ruins, at one point I thought I saw a man standing next to them. But when I looked up from my camera he was gone.”

“What did he look like?”

“Not sure. I saw him, but I somehow didn't really see him? Or I just saw his general shape,” you continued, “the others were joking that it was a ghost.”

“Could've been,” said Morel, “this is ancient land with a lot of older things attached to it. There are probably more than a few wayward souls that have found a home here.”

“..... Do you think they could be dangerous?” you asked him.

“Maybe some of them. But most people should be safe if they stay on the path.”

He grinned again when he looked back at you.

“Who knows. You could've come across something bad,” he said jokingly.

“Don't you and your neighbors live up here? It can't be all that bad if that's the case,” you responded, “though I think I'll try to keep from chasing after anymore weird rabbits.”

“Probably a good idea.”

A comfortable silence settled over the two of you. The mist had expanded as you continued to wait for your friends, who you hadn't heard in some time now. It should've worried you more that you couldn't hear them – they hadn't given up on you, had they? Even if they were really annoyed with you they surely wouldn't go that far. Yet you found yourself thinking even if that was the case, it would be okay. Morel was so nice, he wouldn't just leave you here if they didn't show up, right? At the very least, he'd take you back to the trail.

If your friends had bailed on you, then maybe you should repay him by taking him out to dinner.

The tops of the trees were slowly becoming more obscured as the fog continued to drift down, and all you could think was that it looked pretty.

“Is it nice living up here?” you asked him.

“Yeah, pretty nice. Lots of good scenery.”

He seemed to be thinking about something, and you noticed that his shoulders sagged slightly.

“Being completely alone can get to you, though.”

There was a sadness in his voice. He did say that him wanting to be alone was just 'for the most part'. Unless that was a lie. What sort of circumstance could drive him to be living alone in the wilderness if he didn't actually want to be here? You wanted to know, but worried that might be crossing a boundary of some sort, and that made you hesitate to question him further.

“Do you not want to be here?” you asked him softly.

“No, I do,” said Morel, “but I also liked being around people. It just became hard to be around them after a while.”

“Hard to be around them?” you repeated.

“Yeah. It's.... It's just tough to explain,” he said.

“Sorry.”

He shook his head.

“Don't worry about it.”

It confused you, and while you wanted to ask a few more questions, you got a sense that he didn't want to talk about it anymore.

You found yourself wondering if Morel suffered from some extreme form of anxiety or agoraphobia. He seemed like a pretty calm person, but maybe that was only because he was in an environment where he was comfortable. That could have made sense, although you mentally berated yourself shortly after for jumping to conclusions like that just because he didn't want to talk about it. Maybe you should try to move the topic to something else.

“Does anyone come up to visit you?” you asked.

“No.”

Ah. Okay then.

“Then...” you trailed off briefly as you tried to find the right words, “ as long as it isn't too hard to be around me, would you care if I came back to visit you? I could repay you with all you've done for me with a dinner. Maybe bring it by next week or something like that?”

Morel smiled at that, and yet to you it seemed forced. You got another sense that he knew something that you didn't, and that he was intentionally keeping that information from you.

What would he know that he'd be keeping from you?

The thought left your head just as quickly as it entered when he spoke again.

“I guess I could handle having you stop by,” he said jokingly, “you're pretty tolerable.”

“Ah, that's good. Glad to know I can at least be tolerated,” you answered back in a similar joking manner.

He chuckled at that.

“All jokes aside, it'll be nice to have some company up here,” he said softly.

It felt good that he accepted you so easily. Maybe he accepted you a little too easily given the short amount of time he had known you, but if he was living up here all by himself maybe he was just that desperate.

And the argument could also be made that you were similarly being too trusting of him. It was possible that this was just a facade of his that would drop the instant you were vulnerable. That'd probably be what Colton would tell you if he knew the thoughts going around your head.

Although you were already pretty vulnerable, weren't you? Alone in the wilderness with a man you just met and a sprained ankle, so you weren't even able to run if you needed to. Even with your friends that were hopefully close by, with Morel's size it would've been easy enough for him to drag you off if he wanted. Helping you, sitting down and waiting with you for your friends just to gain your trust seemed to be a bit too much effort if his ultimate goal was to take you away.

You forced down those silly, anxious thoughts of yours. Morel wouldn't hurt you, you were certain of it.

The mist around the two of you was growing thicker still, but you didn't pay it much mind as you looked back down to your lap.

Something was sticking out of the front pocket of your jacket, and then you remembered that you still had that pipe you had found this whole time, having absentmindedly stuck it into your pocket when Morel moved you earlier. A thought then occurred to you as you looked at it again.

“This wouldn't be yours, would it?” you asked him as you pulled it out to show him.

Looking down at it, you noted that he didn't seem too surprised as he said to you “it would, actually.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. That's what I was looking for when I came across you,” Morel said.

“Huh. That's some weird coincidence,” you said as you extended your hand out to give him the pipe.

“It happens,” he said. He thanked you as he took it from you, pocketing it before his hands went back to where they had been before.

There was no urgency within you as you continued to sit with Morel, the mist still swirling and settling around the two of you. The more the mist grew, the more the thoughts of your friends and the worries within you began to slip away.

You had nothing to worry about.

Had you been paying more attention to him, you would've seen Morel stiffen ever so slightly, maybe even heard him curse under his breath as he sensed something that was now in the general vicinity. But you only noticed when he stood up suddenly, hands on his hips as he turned to face you.

“Hate to say it, but this fog'll probably only get worse. I'm not sure it's a good idea to keep waiting here,” he told you.

It had seemed to become exponentially worse as soon as he spoke those words, the fog that had been fairly moderate now surprisingly thick, to the point that you had a hard time making out the trees that were closest to you. Somehow you hadn't noticed just how bad it was until now.

“Ah. Yeah, you're right,” you said, “I think I remember which direction the trail is in. I should be able to make it back on my own.”

“What – no, that's not...”

Morel was rather flustered now, a hand running through his hair as he continued “even if you can make it back there, I doubt you'll have an easy time going down those stairs with your ankle like that. And with how hard it is to see right now, there's a 100% chance that you'll end up falling.”

You nodded, though you weren't certain where he was going. It seemed like a lot to ask him to walk you back in such circumstances, and far, far too much to have him take you back down the mountain.

“Since we're not sure what happened with your friends, I think the best thing I can do is take you back to my place for the time being.”

That hadn't been what you were expecting, and you opened your mouth to second-guess that idea until he spoke again.

“Just until the fog clears,” he assured you, “and this way you can get some actual rest inside instead of sitting out in the cold like this.”

… Morel's proposal seemed a lot nicer, you had to admit.

“I guess,” you began, “as long as you're sure it isn't too much trouble.”

He smiled at you as he said “I promise, it isn't.”

Any worries that this may be overstepping some kind of boundary faded from your mind after his reassurance, and you looked about the forest again.

“I guess we should try to find something for me to use as a walking stick,” you said, squinting your eyes when the fog proved to be too thick to see clearly, “unless you're okay with me leaning on you.”

“I've got a better idea.”

With that, Morel turned around and knelt down, his arms stretched out behind his back as he said “I'll carry you.”

After assuring you that this way would be faster, it didn't take much for you to take him up on his offer. After you made sure not to put any weight on your ankle while you climbed onto his back, Morel slowly lifted you up after he had your legs secured around his waist and you loosely held on around his neck.

With the sensation of you being pressed against him, of your warmth and virtually feeling the way your heart was steadily beating against his back, Morel let out a quiet, relieved sigh as he began the trek back to his home. He was grateful that you hadn't questioned him or tried to insist that he take you back to the trail anyway. If he hadn't been able to convince you, he'd need to take you by force. Such a thing would have been easy for him to do, and it was probably more common for those like him to take their captured humans while they kicked and screamed.

But he didn't want to traumatize you during the journey to your new home.

Luckily his aura that had been slowly engulfing you was able to influence you enough that you weren't questioning him on much, so the trip would be a peaceful one, although it was marred by how dishonest he was being about all of this.

If only he could just sit you down and explain everything, why he was doing this. But he knew you wouldn't believe him.

No reasonable person would believe him if he told them he was a banshee.

Saying that would only make you feel unsafe, maybe try to run from him, and then you'd end up even more injured in the process, and even more upset when you found that you could no longer leave the mountain.

But even that would be better than the alternative.

Morel just didn't like seeing people die.

The role of a banshee was to warn when death was coming. To let out that unearthly wail so the human marked for death could prepare and make peace with their fate. For Morel, when he saw someone who was marked to die, it looked like a cloud had settled around them. An aura that grew darker and darker as the human came closer to the time of their death until the aura had blackened completely. Then Death came to collect that unfortunate's soul.

And Morel was unable to do anything but give a heads up.

It was depressing. Being part of that cycle, watching as human after human had that cloud around them turn black and vanish as it left their lifeless bodies behind. And during the last years he had spent in the heavily populated areas, he found that more and more people were panicking when they heard his warning as a fear of death had grown stronger as time had gone by. The people who feared for their lives did everything in their power to try and prevent their deaths, and more often than not their attempts to thwart death ended up being what caused it. All because they had heard his warning.

It began to feel as though he was the one responsible for those who had died that way, and that felt even more depressing, to know that they had died because of him. By the end, Morel had grown tired of it all.

So he left.

He left the areas that were overrun with humans and found a home on an ancient mountainside. And for a while, he found some peace.

But time moved forward as it always did, and evidently, people forgot what areas were meant to stay sacred when they put together the hiking trail. It had angered many of his neighbors, but most were compelled to stay away from it and leave the humans alone as long as they stayed on the path.

And yet some of them couldn't do that, and on occasion the ones that strayed would run into some of the more malevolent spirits that resided on the mountain alongside him. He could usually tell when someone would die to the supernatural. The aura about them just had a certain feel to it, but Morel chose to stay out of it completely, not wanting to cause problems with his neighbors.

Even after trying to get away, he was still forced to see that cloud of death.

It was no different when he saw you after you first arrived.

Morel had happened to be at the base of the mountain when he saw you, the death cloud around you one shade off of completely black. You'd be dead before the end of the day. Perhaps during your trip in the woods, he had thought to himself. Yet as he observed you more, he felt that wouldn't be the case. Something told him that you would make it through this hiking trip of yours, but you would die almost immediately after. You seemed pretty healthy, so illness didn't appear to be the cause. An accident, then? That would be more likely. While he couldn't determine what exactly was going to happen, whatever it was would be sudden and violent.

Looking at the rest of your group, he found that none of them were marked for death like you were. Whatever happened after you all left, you would be the only one to die.

Something compelled Morel to keep watch over you, and so he followed behind, listening in on the conversations your friends were having and waiting for you to speak up.

You weren't saying much, however, and when he moved off the trail to walk beside you so he could get a better look at your face, he was taken aback by how dejected you seemed.

Something was eating at you, but you were keeping quiet about it as you continued to follow behind, almost unnoticed by the others in your group.

Your last hours of life were going to be spent with you feeling ignored and lonely, and that depression Morel felt when it came to these things returned. You shouldn't need to die today; you should've had years left of your life, not a scant few hours. It wasn't right, but there was nothing he could do.

Or was there?

An idea came to Morel, and he became lost in his own thoughts as he found himself walking away from the trail as your group came closer to the stairs. He made his way towards what had been a chapel for some long-forgotten deity, mulling over the thought in his head.

There was something he could do to alter your fate, both him and the magic still in the mountain powerful enough to allow him to lay a claim on you. But was it worth angering Death itself to keep you safe?

As he contemplated what to do, he looked back to you.

You had taken your phone out, holding it in a way that made it clear you were aiming to get a picture of the ruins he just so happened to be standing next to.

It took less than a second for him to realize what had happened when you blinked in surprise and took your eyes off of your phone.

You could see him.

You may not have been aware of it, but your eyes met his in that moment. Based off how you looked him over, you weren't able to see him all that clearly, but he could still tell when your eyes met again as you tried to make out any features of his face.

Then one of the people from your group called out and you looked away, and Morel made himself vanish. The confusion was clear when your head turned back and found him to be gone, and you ended up following your group again with your brows furrowed.

It was something that happened on occasion with certain people, another confirmation that you were close to death: as your final hour drew near, the barrier between you and the spiritual realm was thinning and you were beginning to see things that you weren't meant to.

When you looked back one more time, you managed to look in the exact spot where he had been standing, though this time he made sure you couldn't see him. He felt the way your eyes met his again before you turned your head back, that black cloud of death still engulfing you.

Something about your situation and that sight made Morel snap.

Screw fate. He needed to save you.

As he made his decision and began to follow you in earnest, a part of him was aware that saving you wouldn't do anything for the countless people that died every day, but he felt that if he could save at least one person from an unfair and untimely death, he could live better with himself. If he could keep you alive and happy, it was worth it.

He'd been worried that luring you away with the rabbit wouldn't work. You were far enough along that you could see it for what it really was: a creation that he'd made out of mist and smoke. Yet during the time you had spent getting up to the rest area, he had expanded his aura around you for long enough that any reservations you may have had about the slightly horrifying thing before you were easily pushed to the side as he compelled you to go after his creation, to get you further into the woods and by yourself.

He hadn't planned on you getting injured in the process, and when he heard your friends calling for you sooner than he expected he threw his pipe next to you in an act of desperation and just hoped that you would grab it. As long as you picked up something that belonged to him of your own free will, then you would belong to him.

You had done just that. And therefore, he was now free to do whatever he pleased with you.

“Is there a reason why we need to get to your place fast?” you asked him as he carried you back.

“You see how thick the fog is, right? I need to get us there before I lose my way,” Morel said, “can't embarrass myself like that, can I?”

Actually he just wanted to get out of there because of the other being that had been approaching the two of you. As much as he was able to hold influence over you, you would no doubt panic if you saw a headless woman sitting astride a horse casually come up to you.

“That makes sense,” you said. Then you giggled a little to yourself.

“I'm still mad that you laughed at me earlier,” you told him, “so if you do get lost, then I'm allowed to laugh at you.”

“Fair enough. If I get us lost you can laugh at me,” he agreed.

You laughed a little bit more.

“I won't actually do that. If we do get lost I'll probably be more concerned with trying to keep calm.”

“Don't worry; I know this mountain like the back of my hand,” he assured you.

If you had really been thinking about it, you might have questioned him on that. If he knew his way around that well, why couldn't he take you back to the trail? Why was he insisting on taking you back to his home?

But with the way his aura was enveloping you completely, no such thoughts came to mind, and you instead softly rested your head against him, feeling content.

You were rather easy to influence, and that fact made Morel feel badly for manipulating you the way he was.

He'd make it up to you, he told himself. He'd done good by wrapping up your ankle, and now he'd take care of you.

Glancing back at you, he felt satisfied to see that the black cloud of death had vanished. You no longer needed to fear anything like that.

You belonged to him now, and Morel would keep you safe for the rest of eternity.

#reader insert #morel x reader #yandere #yandere x reader #yandere hxh #morel mackernasey #morel #yandere hunter x hunter #monster au

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killyourlocalmisogynist · 3 years

Note

They're all fixated on how sexuality has not been proven because a singular Gay Gene hasn't been discovered. It wasn't until recently we uncovered at least 16 different genes coded for eye color. Sexuality is much more complex than eye color.

Here's what has been proven: although anthropological studies of different past and present societies has shown differences in acceptable sexual behaviors, a consistently small percentage of the population has been shown to pair bond with the same sex. Twin studies prove there are biological origins to sexual orientation. Brain studies prove there are certain structures common in those who are homosexual compared to heterosexual. Sociology studies show patterns in childhood indicating one's likelihood to grow up gay. Research shows self-motivated conversion therapy and externally directed conversion therapy do not change one's feelings. Anecdotal evidence of gay people who were shamed into denying their attraction and getting married because it was the thing to do never developed romantic or sexual interest in their chosen opposite sex partners.

All of this put together, combined with the relative impossibility of having homosexuality suppressed and made illegal, shows nobody can be socialized into same sex attraction. Even the straight trans kids who fake being gay don't get much further than online roleplay. Bisexuality is a good contrasting example. Pew Research Center statistics show bisexuals overwhelming prefer opposite sex relationships, more than what's accounted for in the population differences. They tend to come out years later than gay people. Because if someone feels an attraction to the opposite sex, it's very easy to ignore or suppress their attraction to the same sex. Sexuality is fluid for bisexuals. No two bisexuals share their pattern of attraction between the sexes because it's very personalized and preferences change over time. It doesn't make sense to compare a seemingly straight man caught soliciting anonymous gay sex or a seemingly straight woman having a romance with another woman when she's older, because society's homophobia makes it easier for bisexuals to not be aware they're bisexual. There is no equivalent experience for gay people.

And when someone recommends we read Sheila Jeffreys, Adrienne Rich, and Radicalesbians and remember nobody actually identified as a political lesbian, she's trying to have us ignore the basic fact they all argued being a lesbian was a feminist choice to put women first, and many like Mary Daly disdained actual lesbians. She's not being persecuted for wrongthink and lesbians who object to her classification of homosexuality as too rigid aren't dogmatic and closeminded. It's very obvious this is yet another example of a woman using feminist rhetoric to weasel her way into the most man hating of all sexualities to prove her bona fides. And lesbians are a convenient scapegoated minority to get away with it because lots of feminists see lesbians as privileged without attraction to our oppressors. So everyone lets these polilezzes have an uncontested platform, because they don't understand homosexuality either, they understand men, and try to bond with lesbians over men, and enable the fakers.

When there is no name for exclusive same sex attraction, there are gay people. When there are laws against same sex marriage and sodomy, there are gay people. Where there is neverending social pressure to be with the opposite sex, there are gay people. It has been proven many different ways sexuality is innate and unchangeable. It hasn't been proven that the average hetero or bisexual takes homosexuality seriously.

thank you so much anon for a this thoughtful response. i appreciate all of this. <3

#ask

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kuroopaisen · 4 years

Text

brat || gojou satoru

➵ gojou wants you to pay attention to him. and no, he doesn’t care about how annoying he’s being.

wc: 2k

warnings: gn!reader, gojou is Annoying, mild spoilers i guess?

a/n: hi welcome to my gojou brainrot i would like to escape and yet i cannot,,, will i deliver more mindless fanfic? who knows!

You sigh, turning the page of your book with an exhausted kind of resignation. Had you even comprehended what’s in the last paragraph? Or had you just let your eyes gloss over it, admiring the shape of the letters without actually taking any of them in?

Reading a book isn’t so difficult under normal circumstances; sure, you’ve got your own concentration to wrestle with, but that’s an (occasionally) tameable beast.

The man sprawled on the couch next to you, however, is not.

“Are you done yet?” Gojou hums, sticking his legs straight up in the air.

“I’ll be done sooner if you shut up,” you mumble, starting from the top of the page for what feels like the thirty-second time in the past five minutes.

Gojou’s not handling the boredom well. He’s spent the past five minutes cycling between humming Danse Macabre in an octave too high to be comfortable while swinging his legs in circles and poking your cheek as he crouches next to you on his knees.

“You’re the one who said I could come over,” he chirps, completely unfazed by your words.

“I never said that,” you mumble.

It’s not a lie. Earlier today, Gojou’d asked if you were going out tonight. You’d said no. He’d decided to take that as permission to crash at your place.

Although the onus is at least a little on you; he has a habit of doing things like this. You’ve got to be one step ahead of him if you want to win against him on a petty debate like that.

A head of white hair wriggles its way onto your lap.

“Satoru?”

“Hm?”

“What are you doing?”

“I’m bored,” he hums.

That much is obvious. But you know it’s not that simple; he’s bored, yes, but more importantly, he wants your attention. Even your chest flutters at that.

“You’re a grown man,” you smile. “Entertain yourself.”

A well-worn coquettish smile plays on his lips. “I can’t tell if you’re being lewd or not.”

You slap his chest.

“Ow!” He gasps, placing a hand over his heart. “I can’t believe you’d be so cruel to me!”

“Then stop being annoying.”

“I’d like to think I’m ‘charmingly playful’.”

“Do you take constructive criticism?” You tilt your head at him, biting back a smile.

“I would,” he muses, “if I weren’t already perfect.”

“That ego of yours is going to get you into serious trouble one day,” you grin, flicking his forehead gently.

He lets you, grinning back. “Ah, but you see, my dear,” he hums, grabbing your hand before you draw it away and lacing your fingers with his. It’s a bit of an awkward angle, but you don’t mind.

“I’m simply stating the truth.”

“Well, the truth hurts,” you mutter, “so it’s no surprise no-one wants to hear you gassing yourself up.”

Gojou laughs. His hair tickles your inner thighs and you’re almost convinced to give in. But it wouldn’t be good form to feed his ego after chiding him for it.

You’re well-aware his ego’s already gotten him in trouble – many times, in fact. But Gojou seems to have a way of wheedling his way out of anything.

And, of course, you know that his ego doesn’t come from nowhere.

Doesn’t stop it from being annoying, though. The fact it’s at least partially well-founded makes it worse.

You take a deep breath, turning your attention back to this blasted book. Gojou will just have to wait.

“Why are you even reading that brick?” He muses, tapping the bottom of the book’s spine with one long finger. “You look bored out of your mind. And, you’ve been on the same page for the past five minutes.”

“You know,” you tilt your head to the side, a sour look on your face. “‘Adult stuff.’ Upskilling and all that.”

“Ah,” Gojou grins. “Career work.”

“Mhm,” you sigh. “And some of us can’t just learn on the job.”

Although, you ponder, the thought blurred with gentle melancholy, some of us aren’t constantly risking our lives.

Gojou always tells you not to worry; he’s the strongest jujutsu sorcerer there is, after all. But even that’s not enough to lull you into an uneasy sleep, to bring you warmth when your bed is cold.

You’re never truly at ease until you feel him slip into your bed in the early hours of the morning, his arms slinking around your waist and pulling you towards him. It’s like clockwork how he buries his head in your shoulder as every muscle in his body relaxes. He always thinks you’re asleep – and honestly, it’s easier to let him keep believing that.

What you’ve got isn’t exactly a ‘relationship’. At least, not in the most traditional sense of the word. Gojou’s never pretended to offer you that. But it’s not so simple as a ‘friends-with-benefits’ arrangement.

Gojou Satoru doesn’t suit the domestic. But he relishes in it, the same way a child might enjoy playing at high tea with little plastic teacups and cupcakes made of playdough. Some might find this frustrating – the idea of existing in this grey, a dark, nebulous unknown stippled with moments of affection and vulnerability.

But there’s still comfort in it; a sense of understanding, a place to let loose and relax. Being part of this world is hard. It’s so cruel – sending children out to fight things they barely comprehend, letting them suffer and even die. And what do they have to show for it? A future of doing the same thing while also having to navigate just how shit the world of sorcerers truly is?

Why aren’t more of your colleagues angry about this? One counsellor isn’t enough to maintain the wellbeing of these children. Do the higher-ups even care? Well, you know the answer to that question – it’s enough to make you want to throttle each and every one of them—

“Hey.”

You clatter back to earth, met by a pair of electric blue eyes. It’s easy to forget just how striking they are; it’s like they can stare right into your very core, laying out secrets you never even knew you had.

“Hm?” You blink at him. You can’t risk him knowing you’re worried. He doesn’t stand for that sort of thing; he’ll just tease you for being concerned about him. Though, you’re well-aware that he enjoys being doted on.

“You’re spacing out,” he smiles. “Again.”

Sure, he sounds like he’s joking. But even he can’t disguise that little flash in his eyes, the slight tension in his face. It’s the same expression he has when he talks about that new student of his.

Gojou understands you better than you’d like. Every little tell, every tiny hint towards what you’re actually thinking. It’s near impossible to hide anything from him; it’s irritating, really.

But, at least he’s got the decency to leave the direction of the conversation in your hands.

You weigh it for a moment, deciding how exactly to respond. Should you play it off and throw his brattiness back in his face? Or should you pry open that conversation like the doors of an old temple?

Today’s not the day. Neither of you are ready for that.

You stick your tongue out at him. Perhaps it’s not how an adult should behave, but you don’t care. Neither does Gojou.

“I think,” he sighs, plucking the book out of your hands and tossing it across the room, “it’s time you took a break.”

You yelp a moment too late, watching your book slap against the wall and flop to the floor. It’s only a paperback – thank God – but you’re not ready to fix another dent in the wall caused by the force of mayhem known as Gojou Satoru.

“And I have been waiting long enough,” he grins, wrapping his arms around your neck and launching forward.

“Satoru—”

It’s too late. He’s got you pinned beneath him – and not in a sexy way. All six feet and three inches of him is laid flat on top of you, your face smothered by his chest.

You punch his side weakly.

“You’ll have to do better than that,” he laughs.

“Fine,” you try to say. All you get is a mouthful of Gojou’s shirt. You slip your hands up said shirt and tickle his sides.

“Hey, hey, hey—” He splutters, grabbing at your wrists.

“Isn’t this what you wanted?” You smirk, continuing your assault.

Gojou whines, propping himself up by his palms and arching his back like a cat in an attempt to shake you off.

“Get back here,” you grin, lifting your torso in response.

His arms are immediately wrapped around you, pinning your own arms to your sides. You yelp in surprise, finding yourself laid gently against the couch with your face pressed against his neck.

“Much better,” Gojou chuckles, still on top of you as he nestles his head into your shoulder.

It’s not the most comfortable position, but that’s rarely a priority when it comes to Gojou. You wouldn’t be surprised if this wasn’t just his way of goading you into relocating to your bed for ease of cuddling (although you have your doubts that it’s the only thing on his mind).

“You want attention that bad, huh?” You chuckle, pressing a gentle kiss to his neck.

“Mhm,” he smirks, bringing his head up to get a proper look at you. “I’m a busy man, you know. I don’t think you’re appreciating my free time enough.”

“And yet, you never seem to leave my damn house,” you muse. “I’m starting to think you don’t actually have a job.”

Gojou laughs, leaning down and kissing you properly.

“That’s not an answer,” you say against his lips.

He ignores you, taking the opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth.

You sigh, conceding. His lips are so soft yet so persistent, somehow both desperate and playful. He’s aggravatingly good at this sort of thing – before Gojou, you didn’t really understand what it meant to be a ‘good kisser’. But of course, he manages to excel at this, too. And annoyingly enough, he’d been right to brag about it.

He brings one hand up to cup your cheek and moves another down to your waist. It’s a surprisingly chaste move for him, but you don’t mind. You tangle your own hands in his hair, resisting the urge to tug it. If you do that, you’ll officially lose any chance of getting more reading done tonight. Although your ability to focus on anything other than him is waning quickly.

When Gojou pulls back, he’s got that look in his eyes. The one that always makes your cheeks flush, makes your heart feel a little lighter. The one that almost makes you say something stupid.

Thank God you always have your wits about you.

“You get five minutes,” you sigh. “And then you’ve got to let me finish the chapter I’m on, okay? Then I’m all yours.”

Gojou’s grin blossoms with delight.

He slots himself beneath your chin and rests his cheek against your chest. A hand snakes around your waist, pulling you closer to him.

You smile, propping your chin on the top of his head and wrapping your arms around him.

Despite all his big talk, his irksome demeanour, even his obnoxious height, Gojou Satoru loves to be held.

You always oblige. He never asks – that’s too close to admitting weakness.

But you understand. He needs this. Sometimes he just wants to be tended to.

Being let in like this is an honour. He’s letting you be part of his life, despite his grand plans. Plans that, when he’d told you them, shifted your whole understanding of him.

Gojou represents change.

You have to have faith in him. You have to believe he’ll make good on his promises and turn the sorcerer world on its head. It’s no easy burden; and despite what he claims, even he falters in the face of something so monumental.

But despite all that, he’s still him. He hasn’t let the weight of his goals crush him; at least, not entirely. He finds the little joys, indulges in mundane delights, sees the humour in things.

Gojou Satoru wants to change the world, but he still lets himself be a part of it.

Perhaps that’s why it’s so easy to love him.

Even if he can’t offer the stability and promise of a stable relationship.

Even if he’s a little brat.

#gojou x reader #gojou satoru x reader #gojo saturo x reader #gojou x you #gojou staoru x you #today on: rowan can't shut up!#free me from this hell!

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readyplayerhobi · 4 years

Text

La Douleur Exquise

; Horse Hybrid!Taehyung x Lovebird Hybrid!Reader

; Genre: Fluff, angst, smut

; Warnings: Penetrative sex, dirty talk, unprotected sex, creampie, impregnation kink, filmed sex

; Word Count: 14.9k

; Synopsis: Taehyung is in love with his best friend. The problem? He’s a stallion, a horse hybrid who’s basic instinct is to collect a herd of women to protect and procreate. His best friend is a lovebird hybrid and they mate for life. He knows it’s pretty much impossible to be together and that you’d end up hurt, but what happens when he finds out you love him just as much?

; A/N: So, my first fic in like...two months? I started this fic in early July and honestly...I just wanted it finished. If it seems a bit disjointed or something then it was very stop and start...I hope you all enjoy it anyway and that it doesn’t disappoint or anything! It’s taken a WHILE for me to get back into writing (honestly, I almost left lol). Please reblog if you enjoyed and leave me comments and asks!

“Oh...fuck. Fuck, you’re so big, mmm,” The girl on her hands and knees in front of Taehyung moaned, her ass wiggling in desperation as he thrust his hard cock into her soaked pussy. “Harder, please. Please, fuck me harder.”

He hissed as she clenched around him, his entire length disappearing with ease inside her as his hips moved rhythmically. Large hands groped at the globes of her ass, squeezing them and spreading them wide to give the best view possible. Grunting, he slapped at one cheek hard and smirked when she yelped, jerking slightly.

“Such a pretty girl, so pliant and willing, hmm?” Taehyung questioned, his voice low and brusque as he moved hard enough to cause the room to be filled with the sound of skin slapping on skin. “A greedy pussy, so eager for your stallion to get you in foal, aren’t you?”

She moaned in response, her face unseen to him but her body reacted by squeezing around his cock once more. Running one hand along her spine, he hummed in delight before leaning forward and biting down on her shoulder. It was instinctual, something deep in his genes telling him to hold her steady while he filled her up and impregnated her.

His other hand moved down to her clit, the bundle of nerves still soft and silky with her excitement but also swollen hard with her impending orgasm. Years of experience let his fingertips find the exact spot he needed, swirling them in quick circles and making her cry out even louder, hips bucking beneath him.

“That’s a good mare,” He panted, trailing his nose along her neck slowly. “Come for me, come on, you can do it. Tighten that pussy around me and I’ll breed you as you want.”

Her orgasm hit seconds later, body convulsing tightly around him and he grunted, hips jerking forward even more rapidly. She was whining, a babbling mess beneath him as he continued to stimulate her, the effects being just as pleasurable for him too until he too came.

Pressing into her hard, he felt the slight resistance of what must be her uterus against the tip of his cock but she didn’t complain of any pain. One of the benefits of being a fellow horse hybrid was that a mare was biologically compatible with the large cock stallions had. One hand held her hips steady, making sure she didn’t move away as his balls convulsed rhythmically, each time causing his cock to twitch as he continued to ejaculate inside her.

She was breathing hard now, her body covered in a fine layer of sweat that caught the light perfectly and he hummed in appreciation, finally feeling the end of his orgasm. Slowly, he pushed himself upright and licked at his lips as he gave a few, shallow thrusts to wring out his final moments of pleasure and also make sure she got all of his cum.

“You were a good girl for me. We’ll get a nice colt or filly from you.” He mutters, stroking along her back appreciatively. Her skin was darker in certain patches and lighter in others, a result of her American Paint Horse breeding. It was pretty and he let his fingers trail along with the colour distinction.

Finally, though, he pulled out. The noise as he did so was extremely wet, but that was nothing compared to the rush of thick, white cum that slipped out of her used pussy. Pursing his lips, he looked it over carefully before dragging his fingers through some of it and pushing it back inside her. It didn’t matter, stallions were renowned for the large amount of semen they produced and she was probably filled inside.

“And cut!” Called the director, his voice interrupting the silence of the set. Taehyung let out an immediate sigh of relief and sat back, his cock rapidly softening now that the scene was over. His co-star sat up with a groan, stretching to get out the kinks in her back from the position she’d been in for the last ten minutes.

As she did so, the trickle of cum once more became a torrent, slipping down her thighs to collect on the bed. She didn’t pay attention to it and he didn’t say anything, the two of them used to scenes like this by now. Wheein was a consummate professional and one of the best in the porn industry, just like Taehyung.

“That was a good scene,” She complimented him, smiling in gratitude to her assistant who brought a robe that she used to cover herself up with. “Even if the whole ‘dirty talk’ is a little overdone nowadays.”

Taehyung rolled his eyes in agreement, grinning as he accepted the cleaning wipes from his assistant. Without a care in the world, he began to wipe his cock clean as he continued on his discussion with Wheein. She was quickly wiping down her thighs and between her legs as well. They’d both clean up more properly when they went to their dressing rooms but he wouldn’t be seeing her again after this.

Not unless they worked on the same set again.

“Right? It’s so fucking cringe. I wish they’d hire someone who’s an equine if they’re going to write a script featuring two of us. Who even talks like that?” He muttered, tugging on his robe and tying it closed before slipping his feet into the sandals provided to him.

The laugh Wheein gives is sweet, making her entire face light up. She really is a beautiful woman and her body is equally divine, only made even better by her kind and bubbly personality. Not that she’d been able to show that during this scene of course.

It struck Taehyung that she’d probably make a good mare for his herd. Despite the fact they were lamenting how lame the script was that they’d been given, there were some truths to what they’d filmed. A stallion like Taehyung would actively seek out fertile mares from good stock for his herd to breed with.

The better quality the mare’s breeding, the better his foals would be.

At least, that’s what horse hybrids were meant to do. Wheein would probably even agree to it if he asked. He knew that she wasn’t in a herd already and she’d made it pretty clear to him that she’d be open to something outside of their work if he wanted. His deeply-rooted instincts demanded that he take her home and breed her properly, but he just sighed deeply instead.

He may be a horse hybrid, with all the possessive and protective instincts that provided him as a stallion, but he had no actual interest in living his life like that. Which is why he makes a little more small talk with Wheein before leaving to go to his dressing room. The shower he takes is quick, making sure to rub viciously at his body as he tries his hardest to remove any scent of the mare he’d just fucked.

Hybrids were something that had been created long ago. So long ago, no one knew how they were made anymore. The knowledge had been lost in the Hybrid Revolution, three centuries ago when hybrids had refused to be slaves for their human masters anymore. Ever since they’d been treated as equals to everyone else in society.

That didn’t mean that they’d integrated fully of course. Hybrids of different species more often than not stayed with each other or mated with humans. It did happen though, but the differing instincts meant it often was better for a hybrid to simply stay within their species.

Something Taehyung had always found amusing though was the fact that even within their species, a lot of hybrids would only mate within their own ‘breed’. Wheein was a pure American Paint Horse, coming from a long line that could be traced back to when the humans had been breeding horse hybrids for manual labour, protection services and sports purposes.

Back then, the humans treated hybrids exactly like actual horses. They had a studbook and would breed stallions to certain mares to produce characteristics they wanted. Placid nature, easy to work with, intelligent, quick to learn and so forth. When they’d been released, the breeds had continued on the studbooks to this day.

There were plenty who didn’t follow that ideology, of course, Taehyung’s parents were not the same breed after all, but a lot seemed to put stock in being ‘purebred’. It was just another way to act superior in his opinion.

Besides, his parents may not be from the same breed but he was still technically a breed all of his own. His mother was an Arabian while his father a Thoroughbred, meaning he was a breed called an Anglo-Arab. That was considered a breed in its own right, though perhaps not as prestigious as either of his parents.

Whatever he didn’t care about all that. Taehyung had no real interest in following the cultural norms of his heritage. And the reason for that was waiting for him back at his apartment. The thought of that spurred him into cleaning up even faster, making sure he was squeaky clean before pulling on the clothes he’d removed earlier in the day.

Glancing in the mirror once finished, he sighed deeply and looked himself over. A quirk of his kind was that they looked distinctly hybrid in ways that didn’t match others.

A dog hybrid may have the ears of a spaniel while a cat could have the tail of a Persian. Horse hybrids didn’t have any of their animal counterpart’s physical characteristics though, no tails or ears or anything like that. But their animal genes had manifested uniquely in their skin and hair.

If someone was a bay then they would have brown skin in a range of shades while their lower arms, legs and the space around their mouths and nose would be even darker and their hair a luscious black. Taehyung blended a little better than most other horse hybrids, but for others like Wheein, it was more obvious. Her skin was covered in patches of alternating dark and light while her natural hair grew in white and dark brown.

He knew that certain breeds had distinct characteristics as well. An old high school friend was a Friesian with coal-black skin and the most luxuriously thick, wavy black hair. One of his Taehyung’s siblings, on the other hand, had a Lipizzaner mare in his herd; her skin and hair was snow white. It certainly made them easily identifiable.

Taehyung wasn’t quite so obvious. His palomino colouring was visible; pale white hair that was a little too long and softly tousled matched with rich golden skin. Broad shoulders tapered down into a slim waist, currently covered in a loose white button-up. His hair was still wet, dripping onto his shirt while his strong thighs and calves were contained within equally loose-fitting tan trousers.

He didn’t look like someone who’d just filmed pornography, but then again, what did that look anyway? Just a person? Still, he felt a small sense of satisfaction at how well he was going to blend. The last thing he wanted was to go home and have it look obvious what he’d just been doing, even if it was his job.

Chewing on his lip, he grabs his leather cross shoulder bag and exits the dressing room. He promised to get takeout tonight, and he wasn’t going to renege on that deal.

“I have food!” Taehyung calls out, placing the bag of takeout he’d just picked up on the kitchen counter before shrugging off his jacket. By the time he gets back from hanging it up, you’ve already emerged from your bedroom and are pulling plates out of the cupboard while trying to see what he’d gotten.

“What did you get? Chinese?” Looking up at him with a raised brow, Taehyung’s heart stutters for a moment at just how pretty you are. There’s not a trace of makeup on your face right now, you didn’t bother when you were at home, and yet you were still the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen.

Like him, you were also a hybrid. The two of you had met in the first class of freshman year in college and had quickly become best friends, despite the differences between you both. He’d also fallen deeply in love with you at some point, even though he knew nothing could happen.

Just as he was driven by the instinct to have sex with multiple women to form a herd, you were driven by your instincts. Only yours were dictated by your lovebird genetics, which meant that you were strictly monogamous. As in, once you entered a relationship and truly fell in love with them then you would never have another relationship.

The antithesis of a horse hybrid then. Taehyung had long known that it meant he would never be able to be with you the way he wanted. You craved monogamy and it simply wasn’t in his genes.

So he’d stayed your best friend, and for the last five years since finishing college, he’d also remained your roommate. The two of you shared a mid-sized apartment in the city centre, close to the university that you worked at as a music professor and within easy driving distance of his workplace.

“No, there’s a new Ethiopian place that’s opened close to work. Seokjin was telling me about it it’s a vegan restaurant and I thought it’d be cool to try it out. No idea what you’d like, or what I’d like, so I just got a bunch of things to try.” Smiling at you, he starts to pull out the carefully packaged food and chuckles as you ‘ooh’ at it all.

“Oooh, I’ve never had Ethiopian food before. I’m excited.” And then you turn that blinding smile onto him and he has to let out a deep breath as slowly as possible to stop himself from doing something silly. He’s long been used to his feelings yet you still make him feel like a teenager again.

Once everything’s out, the two of you take it over to the little table that’s set up between the kitchen and the living room and lay it all out. You quickly dart over to the fridge and grab some water for the two of you before settling down and humming in excitement as everything is unpackaged.

Like Taehyung, you didn’t have many physical attributes of your animal side. Which would have been exceptionally strange given the difference between humans and birds. What you did have though, were black irises to match your pupils and the most exquisitely beautifully coloured hair. The front was a blend of peach, yellow and red which slowly morphed into the familiar lovebird green.

It was all-natural and incredibly pretty, suiting your face and personality so well. The original purpose of lovebird hybrids had been as companions due to their loyalty to their partner alongside musical pursuits. Not everyone was great at music but more often than not, lovebird hybrids tended to excel at singing.

Taehyung loved to hear you sing. Or play the piano or any of the other instruments you’d learnt how to play over the years. You were practically a prodigy when it came to the musical arts and he would forever be in awe of just how talented you were.

Your singing was one of the reasons he’d fallen for you so quickly; your buoyant and always effervescent personality had made him determined to befriend the sweet lovebird hybrid in his class. But it was your singing that had truly captured his heart.

The sweet sound of your voice could be as light as a dandelion seed on a summer breeze or swell as loud and strong as a hurricane. He’d been immediately fascinated the moment he’d first heard you sing and it had never let him go. Taehyung genuinely couldn’t imagine his life anymore without hearing your singing around the apartment; from the quiet songs when you were concentrating to the ones you belted out when you were in a happy mood.

He loved it all. As cheesy as it would sound, he just knew that his life would be dull and quiet without his music-obsessed, colourful, chatty best friend. Which was why he couldn’t give up the small hope of something with you. It was a tiny chance, but as long as you remained unattached then it was there all the same and he would grab onto it tightly.

“Did your shoot go well today?” You distract him out of his wayward thoughts with your question and it takes a few seconds of it to truly penetrate his mind and for him to understand. Almost immediately though, it causes him to twist his lips as he begins to spoon out the food he wants from the containers onto his injera, Ethiopian flatbread, that covers his plate. He hated talking about his job to you. It was like a reminder of what he couldn’t have every time.

But he was a big boy, so he took in a deep breath before looking back at you and giving you his trademark boxy smile.

“It went okay, nothing went wrong which is always a good thing. Wheein was nice and very pleasant to work with, good at her job. The script was just as bad as I originally thought.” Snorting at the memory, he takes a mouthful of food and chews thoughtfully as he takes in the new flavours.

“Let me guess...full of lots of over-the-top horse innuendos and dirty talk?” Chuckling to yourself, you take a drink of cold water before tilting to your head to look him over carefully. Taehyung pauses, unsure of himself for a second before quirking his brow at you.

“Yeah, something like that. I shouldn’t be complaining really...no one watches what I make for the dialogue.” He’s very aware that there’s a slight pout to his lips as he looks back down at his plate, missing the way your expression changes to one of sympathy and protectiveness.

“Well...true I guess, but you’re a great actor outside of that. And I’m not just saying that to you because you’re my best friend TaeTae. You’re genuinely good.” Now he does look at you, taking in the way you look at him with concern and he feels a flare of guilt rise in his stomach. Taehyung would never let you know that the only reason he’d started to work in the pornography industry during college was so that he could satiate his desires without dating multiple women or accidentally creating a herd.

The fact that he was still doing it, seven years after beginning, was because he still held out hope. He knew that he could’ve been something better, entered the world of television or film acting, maybe even theatre. But it would have meant having to flaunt an unending trail of women in front of you.

At least he had a valid and acceptable reason for fucking so many women as a pornstar. The fact that he had no emotional connection to the women who worked alongside him now was a bonus, allowing you to see that he was more than capable of leaving his work in the studio.

Giving you a tight smile, Taehyung nods his head in appreciation. “Thanks, chirp. I appreciate it. And I know, but I think it’s too late now. Too old, you know?”

“Pfft, no way. There are loads of actors who didn’t start their careers until they were older! And no offence, but you’re a guy so you’ve got the kind of lifespan that most women aren’t allowed. You’re only twenty-nine!” The outraged response from you is almost immediate, the piece of injera almost flying out of your hand at your reaction.

Thankfully, you’d just eaten the vegetable wat that you’d scooped up already so there wasn’t any risk of the floor or wall being decorated with Ethiopian stew. That would just be a waste of some good food in Taehyung’s opinion.

But that was irrelevant.

What was relevant was your vehement defence of Taehyung and his talents. The two of you had had this conversation many times over the years and yet it never failed to make him smile. You were adamant he could do better and he knew that he could too. But he didn’t want to. Despite how good his acting was, he had no real interest in actually taking it up as a career outside of porn.

He didn’t care for the lifestyle or travelling or fame. Porn worked well for him at the moment. It satisfied his instincts, it paid well enough and he had a manager that ensured Taehyung only received the best directors, co-stars and films.

What Taehyung would love to do, was to work in fashion design. He loved putting together interesting and unique looks while also thinking up ideas for clothes. His best friend, Jimin, had started a clothing brand of his own a few years ago thanks to the money his parents had loaned him. It was doing pretty well so far and Jimin was constantly sad that Taehyung wouldn’t join him.

The older man, he was only two months older but that meant everything to Park Jimin, had tried everything he could think of to lure his best friend into his company. From offering a creative director role to his sub-brand that would operate almost independently from the parent brand, Calico. And Taehyung had promised him that he’d accept one day.

He would as well. Just not yet. It wasn’t time yet.

“Thanks. Anyway, how was your day? Didn’t you say you had some exams this morning or something?” His segue into another conversation works like a charm and you happily begin to complain about the exams that you’d given your freshman students today. It still boggled his mind that you’d willingly insert yourself into college life again, even if it was in a teaching role but you seemed to thrive in the social aspect of it all.

The two of you continue to talk until there’s no food left, every single piece happily was eaten. Admittedly, most of it was eaten by Taehyung as he had a far larger appetite than you did. It was even bigger today given the workout he’d done during his work hours but you’d been content to hand over what you didn’t want to eat anymore.

Or rather, you’d been content to feed him what you didn’t want. Something he’d had to get used to very early on in his friendship with you was that you retained the instinct to feed those you were close to. That’s what you’d told him anyway, though if he was to be entirely honest he hadn’t seen you feed anyone else before.

Then again, none of the friends you both shared in common was the kind of people who would accept being fed, no matter how much they liked you.

It’s a few hours later that you’re both ready to go to bed; eyes sleepy and movements slow after watching three episodes of The Chilling Adventures of Sabrina while curled up beneath the couch blanket as you both digest your food. Taehyung could have happily fallen asleep where he was, the warmth of you not close enough for him to feel but your scent strong enough to lull him into a peaceful slumber.

“I’m going to bed.” You say loudly, causing him to jerk awake quickly as you push the blanket off your body and stand up. It’s not as quick as you’d normally be but the stretch you give combined with the extraordinarily big yawn lets him know you’re pretty tired.

Not a surprise. It was after 11 pm now and you’d been up since 5:30 am to make sure you had everything set for your classes. A slight wobble as you lose your balance causes him to jump up, resting a hand on the small of your back gently to provide careful assistance while he reaches for the remote with his other to turn off the television.

“Careful, you’re gonna hurt yourself.” Taehyung chuckles, kicking away the blanket which had also become tangled around your feet. A quiet hum from you lets him know that you’re more tired than he’d initially thought.

Not saying anything more, he runs his free hand through the pale blonde strands of his hair as he directs you towards your bedroom. The door is closed to the outside world, unlike his, but the interior is familiar to him once you open it up.

One of the habits you had that came from your lovebird side was that you liked to nest. Which meant your bedroom had everything you loved arranged exactly how you wanted it. Your bed was a canopy style, completely cocooned away from the world except for the entrance. He’d been in once or twice to wake you up when you’d been late for something and he would admit to being fascinated by just how dark and...comfy it all looked.

Soft sheets, multiple fluffy pillows and more covered the top of your bed. He’d love to see what it was like to sleep in it one night because it looked like it could easily be one of the comfiest nights of sleep he’s ever had. A bonus would be if you slept next to him.

One of the more fortunate, or unfortunate depending on how you looked at it, aspects of his heritage was that Taehyung could sleep anywhere. He’d even been known to sleep standing up, which meant that he wasn’t that bothered about what his sleeping space looked like.

Taehyung knew it was something of an honour for him to be even allowed in your bedroom, to be honest, given how protective and territorial you got over your own space. It had been amusing for him to realise this at first, particularly given he wasn’t particularly bothered when it came to his own physical space but upon realising you wouldn’t let anyone else in, he’d used it as a badge of pride.

To himself, of course. No one else would care or even be surprised that your best friend and roommate was the only person allowed in.

Shaking his head, he wishes you goodnight before closing your door quietly and heading to the bathroom for his nightly ritual. The downside to being a porn actor was that he had to follow a proper skincare routine to make sure his skin looked the best. Because obviously, people were paying attention to his beautiful face instead of his massive dick.

Not.

Still, it helped to book more shoots. He had a ‘statuesque’ face that appealed to women or something. So he went along with it and had, admittedly, fantastic skin as a result.

The last thought before he finally fell asleep was that he was pretty sure the oversized black sweatpants you’d been wearing were his.

Taehyung doesn’t get to see a whole lot of you in the next few weeks. He’d ended up having to travel for a shoot that lasted a week and by the time he got back, you were on a much-needed vacation with your friends. As such, he was getting a little grumpy at the lack of interaction with you.

Which was entirely the reason that he’d almost jumped on top of you when you’d finally walked through the apartment door; three long weeks after seeing you last. You’d let him know that you’d be coming home today and he’d had to wait as patiently as he could on the couch, pouting at the fact you hadn’t accepted his offer of going to the airport to meet you.

But with everything in the apartment turned off, he’d used his superior hearing to the best of his abilities and had listened as hard as possible for your footsteps. After so many years, he knew exactly what you sounded like when you walked.

So when he finally heard that familiar beat, alongside the rolling of the wheels on your suitcase, he’d leapt up. There may even be a hole in the wall from how forcefully he’d yanked the door open, his excitement causing him to not pay attention to his strength for a moment before he’s giving you the biggest and brightest grin he possibly can.

“I missed youuuuuu!” Whining loudly, Taehyung wraps his arms around your waist and lifts. The squeal you let out soon dissolves into laughter when he spins you around, mentally marvelling once more at how light you were while his sense went haywire with you so close again. He could feel the softness of your hips as he lets you down, smell the soft peach of your shampoo along with the slight hint of sweat after so long travelling.

It was perfect, and something deep within him relaxed.

You were home. You were safe.

“I missed you too, Tae! Can I please actually come in?” Your laughter is sweet, infectious as always and he stands to the side to let you enter the apartment. Without even asking, he gently takes the handle of your suitcase from you and lifts it with no complaints, heading over to your bedroom.

Given he’s not facing you anymore, he doesn’t see the way you practically swoon at the sight of him using his strength so casually. Or the way you almost drool at his broad shoulders in the plain white shirt he’d thrown on today, the muscles working in a way that made your hands twitch.

“Did you have a good time? Please tell me that Yeji doesn’t have some embarrassing story again this year,” While your yearly vacations with your friends were mostly for sunbathing and catching up, he knew that you all enjoyed re-enacting some college years and that copious amounts of alcohol were drunk. “And I’m not saying about you, I mean just embarrassing full stop. I’m still feeling secondary embarrassment over two years ago.”

“A story which will forever remain buried, thank you very much. But no, we were good this year. Or rather, we weren’t good but I think we’re starting to get a little too old to be drinking so heavily, you know? We can’t recuperate the same way and I get hangovers way too easily. I do not have the physiology to cope with their drinking levels!” There’s a slight whine to your voice, making him smile in amusement as he moves over to lean against the doorway of your room.

While he was fully welcome into your space, he knew that you liked it to be your own. Especially when you’d been away for a while.

“Well, I mean...you are a lovebird. I don’t think there are many alcohol-tolerant birds out there.” That gets him a subtle glare, your pretty lips puckered into a pout. It’s an innocent action, something that shouldn’t bother him in the slightest, and yet his heart stutters and his stomach twists on itself.

What he wouldn’t give to kiss you.

Shaking his head, he tries to force the thoughts out of his mind. Honestly, he was perfectly fine when he was away from you. But when you were around, it was like you were all he could think about. Still, it was hard not to when you looked at him so fondly.

“True. There’s no need to point that out though. Salt in the wound much? Anyway, it was fun. They kept trying to get me to swim in the sea but like...no thank you. Water is for drinking and washing, not for swimming around in.” You’re crouched down, unzipping your suitcase and pulling out the dirty clothes before separating them into the individual bins you have.

Unlike Taehyung, who simply separated his clothes when it came time to wash them, you were very tidy and had bought fancy clothes hamper with three sections. This was probably why Taehyung would accidentally end up with a shrunken shirt or pink underwear from time to time. You paid far more attention to that stuff.

“Swimming is fun though.” Is all he responds with, standing back when you carry the laundry hampers past him. Putting the colours into the washing machine, he watches quietly as you add everything before turning it on. It was fascinating how you’d only been home for less than ten minutes and yet you were already cleaning things up.

Not that he’d made the apartment untidy or anything. It’s just you had a different idea of what was clean to him.

“Okay but, you can say that because you’ve got those shoulders to cut through the water. Not to mention you’re strong anyway. Not so fun for the rest of us. And I don’t mind swimming in a pool. Where I can see the bottom and the size is posted. The ocean though? That’s huge. No thanks.” Smirking, he flops down onto the couch and sighs happily when you push him up before sitting down yourself, letting him rest his head on your thighs.

There was no convincing you though and Tae gave up on the argument pretty quickly, not that he was trying too hard. One thing he’d learnt long ago was that you were perhaps the most stubborn person he’d ever known. It was an endearing trait, most of the time.

“Did you audition for that role?” Your question is innocent, soft fingers trailing through his hair that would have him purring if he was a cat hybrid. Instead, it was just making him get the urge to groom you in turn, his fingers twitching with the need. Ignoring it, he forced himself to just enjoy the touch.

“Yeah. Not sure if I’ve got it though. I got the feeling they weren’t looking for someone like me in the role.” It wasn’t surprising really and he wasn’t offended by the producers of the film he’d gone for. Even porn wanted specific people for specific roles sometimes; it would be silly to think he could get every role he went for.

Not to mention exhausting.

“Well, they’re missing out then,” You say, scratching his scalp until he hums in delight. “Anyone who doesn’t want you is missing out.”

Your words make his heart jump, his breath stuttering as he inhales and wonders if there’s a double meaning to that. But you’re too busy watching the show that you’ve started on Netflix to notice Taehyung’s existential dilemma. Part of him is glad, but there’s another part that wishes he was brave enough to bring it up.

He chooses not to engage with it though, instead just sighing and letting himself relax into the cushions of the couch. It’s nice to be surrounded by your scent once more and to feel your warmth.

“I appreciate that, Chirp. But I’m not letting it get me down. Sometimes they just can’t handle all this.” Gesturing half-heartedly to his body, he’s pleased to hear you laugh at his joke. The sound is sweet, even if the two of you lapse into a comfortable silence after that.

You’re too busy watching your show while he’s half dozing off, eyes closed and breath getting deeper as he starts to drift away. It’s comfortable on the couch, with the temperature just right and his body perfectly relaxed. Which means it’s unsurprising that he falls asleep pretty quickly, completely unaware of anything that’s happening around him as he sleeps.

Taehyung is more than a little disoriented when he finally awakens; the room dark and silent with the lights and television switched off. Frowning, he blinks rapidly before rubbing at his eyes with a hand while sitting up. Stretching his arms out above his head, the groan he lets out is one of relief as stiff muscles relax and a few bones crack.

Reaching out to the coffee table blindly, he grabs his phone and winces when the bright light almost blinds him. Unfortunately, he hadn’t been hugely blessed with the better night sight horses had. Well, he could see better than humans but nothing amazing. Didn’t make it any better when he was subjected to bright light suddenly though.

“Ah, fuck.” He curses, squinting until he can finally focus on the screen. It’s not too late, but it’s a good two hours or so since you’d finally gotten home. Frowning, he just sits there for a moment as his mind finally catches up with the fact he is awake.

Yawning loudly, he finally pulls himself up and decides he should probably go shower before collapsing into bed. Taehyung hadn’t even realised he was tired, but it could have been the comfort of knowing you were back and safe. It wasn’t like he was some over-protective asshole who needed to know your every movement - more that he just felt more content when he knew you were okay.

Walking to his room, he’s scratching at his exposed stomach lazily when he hears the sound of your voice. The door leading to your bedroom is firmly closed but there’s light at the gap on the bottom. His enhanced hearing means that he can easily hear everything you’re saying, which is nothing new.

Over the years though, he’s learnt to carefully block out anything you’re saying when you’re in your room. You deserved your privacy, even if he couldn’t help the fact that he could hear everything perfectly.

And that would have been exactly what he would have done right now. Just carried on through to his bedroom and continued with his plans. Only he can’t help but stop when he hears the familiar syllables of his name. Taehyung knows it’s wrong, but the way you said it is different than normal.

He can’t help but listen, expression curious and his head tilting without even realising it. Your conversation is one-sided but he pays careful attention, still in the middle of the hallway.

“-you know Taehyung, he’s always being attentive and sweet. It’s just his nature, he’s like that with everyone. Yuna...it’s just Tae. He hugs everyone, you’re looking too much into it,” There’s a longer pause now, presumably your best friend talking extensively to you. “Come on, isn’t that what you always tell me? We haven’t seen each other in a while, it’s not surprising he got all touchy.”

Taehyung frowns, lips twisting as he begins to understand a little. Or at least, he thinks he does. If he’s right, Yuna thinks that he likes you. His cheeks heat up as he realises how obvious he’d been with his feelings, even though you make a good argument against it. But you’re wrong and Yuna is very much right.

He does like you, and he’s not quite as touchy-feely with everyone else. Taehyung isn’t even sure how you got that opinion. The only other person he’s remotely as affectionate with is Jimin, and that’s only because he’s known the calico cat hybrid since they were babies. Tae’s mom had worked with Jimin’s mom for decades now, which meant they’d grown up with each other.

“Yuna,” Your whining now, voice going high pitched and your words getting longer. “I thought you were the one who was telling me that I need to get over Tae! And now you’re telling me he’s obviously into me? Make up your mind, woman! Do you want me to ignore my feelings for him or consider telling him? And no, you can’t backtrack in a week or so like you always do. This is serious. I’d be humiliating myself by telling him.”

It’s almost like the world has paused around Taehyung. For a second, he almost feels dizzy and has to rest a palm against the wall as he sways. Your feelings...for him? Did he hear that right? Was he twisting your words into what he hoped you were implying?

Before he can contemplate it anymore in his mind, you go on to say something that shatters the norm for Taehyung.

“It would be humiliating Yuna, you know that. You know what I am, we’ve talked about this. God, I can’t tell Taehyung I love him because then that’s it, I’ve sealed my fate and I won’t be able to get over him. It’s already hard just trying. Having him know? I can’t, not when he can’t give me what I want.” There’s a pain in your voice and his heart twists, stomach bubbling in a way that almost makes him want to vomit as his world changes.

You love him. You. Love. Him.

“It’s not his fault Yuna, we’ve gone through this so many times. I have my instincts and he has his, I’m not going to get angry at something we can’t change. Please...can we just talk about something else? Something that’s not going to make me cry and spend all night thinking? We agreed that we’d try to get me over this, dammit.”

That’s the last thing Taehyung hears as he walks quickly back to his room, having decided that he’s heard far too much of a conversation he clearly shouldn’t have heard. Guilt roils in him, flooding his veins as he flops down onto his bed and stares at the white ceiling of his room. He feels dazed and confused, not sure what he’s meant to think about this sudden change in events.

Taehyung being in love with you was something he’d long ago accepted. But he’d also accepted that nothing would happen from it because of what you wanted in life. Finding out that you wanted him too was game-changing. It was also heartbreaking to know that the only reason you both weren’t together already was because of his instincts.

Suddenly, he sees his career in a whole new light. What was a coping mechanism for him to reduce his innate desires and allow him to give you all the best bits of himself, was probably pure pain for you. The knowledge that you loved him was both exciting and, surprisingly, horrifying.

He knew that love birds would only have one partner, and from what he’d read over the years it meant they only really truly loved one person. If you felt this strongly for Taehyung then did that mean he’d stolen any other choices from you? He’d been holding back to make sure you had a chance to be happy but had he just made it worse?

Swallowing thickly, Taehyung realises there are tears in his eyes as he wonders if he’s ruined everything. The logical part of his mind knows that it’s not his fault if you’ve fallen in love with him, just like it wasn’t your fault he’d fallen for you. But he certainly hadn’t done anything to truly push you away, to try and get you to find someone else to fall in love with and enjoy a happy life.

Had he been selfish?

Rolling onto his stomach, he buries his head into his pillow and lets out a yell. It’s a good job your hearing is only on the level of a normal human because he was positive the extended noise he made would have brought you running otherwise. And he needed to think right now.

There’s probably a solid ten minutes of silence in his room as he lays there, unmoving while his mind races through all his options. If he admitted that he’d overheard you, then he would probably embarrass you. Taehyung would jump at the chance to finally date you, but he knew that you wouldn’t be able to cope with his career.

You were supportive of him now, but you weren’t in a romantic relationship with him. And he doubted you would be comfortable with the knowledge that he was coming home to kiss, cuddle and have sex with you after having done the same things with random women earlier in the day.

If he was honest with himself then Taehyung knew that he wouldn’t be happy with that too. Despite how he was raised, his mom had been one of many mares in the herd his father had kept over the years, he wanted to be the one for you. Which meant he wouldn’t be content to do things with other women that you only wanted to be done.

He wanted the traditional relationship that many horse hybrids would wrinkle their nose at.

So, he had to figure out how to navigate that.

Lifting himself, he grabs his phone and opens up Google. Taehyung didn’t know many horse hybrid’s who wanted to have a monogamous relationship, but he had met a few over the years. Racking his brain, he tries to remember what they had talked about when he’d queried how they could cope with only being with one partner for life.

Despite his interest in the topic, he’d been young at the time and had still very much enjoyed sleeping with as many women as he could. His feelings for you hadn’t quite become what they were today, so he hadn’t listened too intently. Taehyung regretted that now. Tapping his lips for a moment, he contemplates what to write before he begins to type his request into the search engine.

Horse hybrid hormone inhibitors.

It’s three weeks later when Taehyung finally feels comfortable and knowledgeable enough to make a move. He’d made an appointment with his doctor the very next day after overhearing your conversation. He specialised in hybrid care, in particular those for equine hybrids like Taehyung along with the rare donkey or zebra.

Which meant he wasn’t all that shocked at Taehyung’s unusual enquiry. He probably got the occasional query from an equine hybrid about how to be monogamous. It was rare but not unheard of after all. What had shocked him though, was the fact that it was Taehyung asking it.

Kim Taehyung, the infamous porn star who had built a living on his ability to fuck his way through multiple women on camera. Who had his damn fanbase based almost purely on his cock for god’s sake? It was embarrassing to think about, but he’d known what he was getting into when he’d signed the contract in the first place.

He wouldn’t lie and say he didn’t enjoy his job because he did. Taehyung hated that he did, but the sex with many women helped to alleviate all those deeply held instincts and urges within him. Still, now that he knew about you he had no intention of carrying on with his career. Not when he had a chance.

Which was why he’d admitted his feelings towards you to the doctor. Something he’d never thought he’d end up doing, but once everything was out in the open then his doctor was far more understanding of Taehyung’s request. Even encouraging of it. Taehyung was pretty sure that he found the whole story a little sweet and romantic.

Either way, they’d worked out a plan for him to make his life easier if you accepted him. Medications that he would need to take to reduce the overwhelming instincts that drive his hybrid nature and would allow him to engage in monogamy. The idea of that was unbelievably exciting and he’d begun to take his medication only days after the appointment.

After that, he’d gotten together with Jimin. Their weekly hangout usually occurred in a bar, a restaurant or sometimes just hanging around one of their apartments. His best friend had shrieked with delight when Taehyung had explained his predicament and what he was doing to go forward with.

Which had led him to finally asking Jimin if that job offer was still on the plate if everything went right. Taehyung wanted to finally pursue his dream of being a fashion designer and it was so tantalisingly close. He was on the verge of finally having the life he’d always wanted. Hopefully with you.

The first week of being on the medication, which reduced the high levels of testosterone he produced and helped to inhibit his base reactions, had been rough as hell. Taehyung had been on the verge of calling in sick for the first time to a shoot, his body struggling to cope with the change in his body. But he’d pushed through and two weeks later, here he was.

Nervous as fuck and waiting for you to finally come home.

Everything all depended on if you’d accept his request to start a relationship. A serious, romantic relationship that was entirely monogamous. If you said yes, then he had a lawyer all set up to break his contract and a contract just waiting for him with Jimin.

Although really, he’d be quitting his job no matter what happened. He was tired of the porn scene, even if he’d met some wonderfully kind and talented people there. Taehyung had finally decided that he would be moving on with his life and accepting the job with Jimin.

It was up to you whether you wanted to be alongside him, and in what capacity.

The pizza he’d ordered for you both arrived at the same time you came home; a large box of vegetable pizza held in your hands and amusement in your pretty eyes. It makes him smile brightly to see you happy, knowing that you’re pleased he’d taken care of dinner tonight. Especially as it was from your favourite pizzeria; six different kinds of cheeses combined with peppers, onions, eggplant, tomatoes and spinach.

Your favourite kind of pizza, alongside a bottle of red wine that he’d already filled a glass with to let it breathe. The amusement soon turns to suspicion, your brow rising as you kick off your shoes and shrug off your coat.

“What’s all this about?” Gesturing at everything, you settle onto the couch next to him with your legs curled up beneath you. Taehyung bites his lip, sighing softly before reaching out and opening up the box. He doesn’t explain for a few minutes, just letting you both eat a slice of pizza while he watches his beer on the table.

He felt like a teenager, his stomach fizzing with a combination of excitement and nerves that almost makes him feel nauseous. Maybe he shouldn’t be eating right now, but he hasn’t been able to eat all day so far. There would be no use in making himself ill. It would be mortifying for him to throw up all over you.

By the time you’ve eaten two slices, Taehyung has only managed one. But he’s decided that he’s waited long enough. It’s time.

Taking in a deep breath, he lets it out slowly before clearing his throat. After so many years of being friends, he knows that he can talk to you about anything. There are many memories that he’d much rather forget that you’d seen of him, such as that awkward time when he’d had an upset stomach and hadn’t been able to get to the bathroom quick enough.

Not his finest moment and you’d gagged more than once but hey, it was all a bonding experience. Right? Or was that just his opinion on it?

Still, Taehyung found himself pausing; his words sticking in his throat even as he mentally told himself to pull it together. You’d seen all his low points and his highpoints, he did not doubt that you would treat his question with the respect it deserves. But it was still a worry that you might turn him down.

Maybe you’d finally found someone else and wouldn’t want him anymore. The thought made his chest hurt, but he had to know. He had to get the answer to the question that had burned in his thoughts for years now. If you rejected him then he’d be hurt but he’d get over it, especially if it meant you found your happiness.

So why was it so hard to get the words out?

“Hey, are you okay?” Your shoulder bumps into his, pretty face dipping low to catch his eyes. He should have known that you would have realised there was something wrong, or that he wasn’t quite being himself. The way you look at him with such worry and concern makes his anxiety melt away, causing him to smile before he nods.

“I have something to ask you. I mean...you can say no. Please don’t worry about that, if you don’t want to then tell me no. I’ll accept it, I promise. You know I’d never try to force you, right?” He winces, realising that he’s messing this up already given the way your brow creases in confusion. “I mean, god I’m fucking this up. I’m sorry. I just...I have to be honest with you. I accidentally overheard your conversation the other month. I didn’t mean to, it was when you’d come home after your vacation and I’d fallen asleep so I was going back to my room and I overheard you.”

Taehyung is babbling, and he realises that when you gently press a finger to his lips. It would be nice to say that you didn’t look bothered, but there was fear on your face that made him feel sick.

“I believe you.”

Your words are so soft and he almost hums in delight as you run your fingers through his hair, grooming him without even realising. It makes him smile, both at your steadfast belief in him and how you always want to be touching and cleaning him in some way. His fingers itched with the desire to groom you in turn.

He restrained himself, fully aware that if he did then it’d just end up being one half an hour of you both trying to clean each other. The perils of two social hybrids who both have a culture and instinct for grooming. Not what he wanted right now.

The reassurance you give him, combined with the unwavering belief in your eyes, convinces him to just say it. To just get it out and lay his cards on the table. He was nervous, sure, but he’d been nervous many times in his life and he’d overcome all of those moments.

“I heard you say that you like me. In a romantic way. I was really surprised at hearing it, mainly because I didn’t think you’d ever looked at me that way before. Not when I’m the opposite of what you’d want in terms of a relationship. But I want you to know that hearing it made me the happiest I’ve been in a while. Because I like you too. And I have done for a while now. Years.” He says it all with a carefully neutral face, watching you carefully to see if he can gauge your reaction.

For a moment, your expression is a perfect picture in neutrality. The Switzerland of faces, giving nothing away and not letting him see anything that’s going on in your head. It’s frustrating for him when he’s probably feeling too much, but he doesn’t push. Just waits to see what you’ll say.

“What?”

Okay, so perhaps not the eloquent acceptance of his feelings that he’d expected. But it’s not an outright rejection. He can work with this, there’s potential here.

Licking his lips, he takes a deep breath before carefully shifting until he’s facing you on the couch. Your eyes are so wide, shining in the light and making him think it looks like you hold the secrets of the universe deep within. He can’t help but smile at it, at how young and innocent you look.

Smile at the tentative hope he thinks he can spy.

“I like you, Chirp. Like, like you. Probably would use a stronger word if I wasn’t already afraid I’m scaring you away. I know that I’m not what you’d want in a partner, which is why I’ve never made a move over the years. But I’ve always hoped, which is why I never got a herd of my own,

“I love being around you, I love hearing you sing and laugh, I love talking to you, I love hearing you talk to others, I love how you’re so affectionate and always want to groom me along with chatting my ears off. I never said anything though, because most of all, I valued our friendship. And I knew that you wanted someone who could be your life-partner, something I wasn’t sure if I could be.” Taehyung pauses, twisting his lips before looking down at his hands.

“But then I heard you talking and I realised that there might be a possibility. A small one maybe, but I knew I had to at last try. Something I want you to know though is that everything I’m about to tell you that I’ve done has been done for myself because I finally realised that I have to move forward with my life. So, firstly, I talked to my doctor and I’ve started some medication that helps to inhibit my instincts when it comes to relationships and sex.” Pausing, he eyes you to gauge how you’re taking the news.

The head tilt you give is very birdlike, causing him to chuckle without even meaning to. He can’t help it though, not when you look so sweet right then with your bright hair and big eyes.

“I don’t have the urge to have sex with lots of women or make my herd anymore. We talked about it extensively and decided this would be my best course of action to allow me to have a healthy, monogamous relationship. Because of that, I’ve also quit my job and taken up the offer Jimin’s been giving me for years now.”

Despite the fact he’s mid-confession to you, the excitement in his stomach at that very moment is more to do with the fact he was going to finally have his dream career. That he was going to be doing a job which he’d been wanting to accept for years.

Understandably, his words cause you to suddenly gasp in delight before you’re clapping your hands eagerly. The excitement and happiness are purely for him finally taking proper control of his life, ridding himself of the pornography career that he’d enjoyed but hadn’t loved. Something you’d known for a while now.

“Oh my god? You’re going to work with Jimin?! You took the job! TaeTae, I’m so happy for you!” Even though he’d just admitted to you that he was near enough in love with you, your emotions were purely focused on the fact he’d taken the job. Feeling your approval and genuine joy at his life change, he can’t help but give you a wide, boxy grin even while the apples of his cheeks turn a soft rose.

“Thanks, I think Jimin was more excited than anyone to be honest. Pretty sure he’s already organising a design space for me in his building alongside an office. Makes me feel kind of bad for waiting so long to take him up on it but I feel like I’m finally at a place in my life that I’m truly ready for that career change.” That seems to remind you of what he’d told you earlier, about his medication.

Your elated expression slowly fades and he watches in trepidation as your brow creased, the mood dimming. Were you unhappy with his choice? Taking a deep breath, he holds it for a moment before letting it out slowly.

“I want you to know that there is no pressure on you. For anything. I’m going to continue taking this medication because I want to focus on my new career without having to worry about any urges taking over. The side benefit to it means that...well,” He pauses for a moment. “I can have a proper relationship. Or at least, the kind of relationship that you’d want. If you want that. With me.”

There’s complete silence in the room and Taehyung feels the sudden urge to grab another slice of pizza and start eating. Just for something to do with his hands and to distract himself.

He doesn’t push though, just lets you process what he’s told you. It was a lot, so he wasn’t even particularly expecting an answer tonight. If he were being honest, then he wouldn’t be surprised if you took yourself off to your room for the night. Or even went to one of your friends to talk it over with them.

But as usual, you surprise him. You may be small and dainty compared to him, light as a feather and full of cheer, but your personality has always been big and bold. Which is why you tackle the topic head-on.

“I didn’t mean for you to hear, you know that right?” Is your first question and Taehyung nods quickly, reaching out to encompass your much smaller hand with his own. There’s nothing too familiar about the gesture, just a squeeze of reassurance to let you know he understands and isn’t mad or anything.

“I know. It was entirely my fault. I should’ve carried on as soon as I heard that you were talking but I just heard my name and...well.” He trails off, giving an awkward smile that causes you to smile in return. The gentle pressure on his hand makes him realise that you’re now trying to assuage his fears that you were annoyed.

“Hey, it’s okay. You may not have too many physical features of your animal side but you’ve got plenty of their abilities. We both know that you can’t control the fact that you can hear much better, so I don’t blame you. Nor do I blame you for stopping to listen. Especially when you realised what I was talking about,” Now it’s your turn to look abashed, gaze skittering away from his and down to your still joined hands. “I’d have done the same thing if I heard you talking about me.”

Swallowing, Taehyung wonders how he’s meant to respond to that. He didn’t know what he’d say anyway as his stomach feels like it’s full of butterflies suddenly. Really big, horrible butterflies that are making him feel nauseous.

“So yeah, I’m not angry or annoyed over that. Please don’t worry too much. If anything...I’m kind of glad. Because it means you’ve confronted this head-on and now we both know how we feel about each other. Which is that we like each other. A lot. In case it wasn’t clear, I like you too. Really like you. But I also thought it wouldn’t work because I know what I want and need from my partner in my life and I knew that your instincts clashed with that. Again, not your fault. You can’t deny nature and I tried to make sure that you never felt like I was.” There’s a hint of something in your voice but Taehyung can’t figure it out.

Pain? Embarrassment? Worry?

Whatever it is, he doesn’t get a chance to query it because you forge on. The sweet lovebird he’d known for years seems to be wavering between shyness at talking about your feelings and determination to have everything laid out.

He can understand the feeling.

“You know, I’ve fantasised about this for years, but now that it’s happening-”

“You don’t know how to communicate what you’re feeling and it’s all way more awkward and not nearly as romantic or sexy as you’d imagined?” Taehyung finishes for you, biting his lip as he grins broadly. You snort in amusement before nodding, playing with his fingers for a minute or so as you try to rationalise it all in your head.

“Did you go on whatever that medication is...for me? Like...because you wanted a relationship? With me? I know you’ve said it’s also because you wanted a career doing something you’ve always wanted but…” Trailing off, you can’t seem to look him in the eyes.

Carefully, he uses his free hand to lift your chin until he can see you. There’s a brief moment where you try to avoid his gaze before you give in, staring back just as deeply. Nerves, fear and hope are warring within him and he imagines that he can see it reflected in your own eyes.

“I’m not going to say no because overhearing your conversation was what spurred me to talk to my doctor. Finding out that you liked me back and that I might have a chance with you made me want to try to make sure you get the best of me. I knew that there are horse hybrids out there who have monogamous relationships and who are happy, but I didn’t think that would be a possibility for me. And given what I was doing for my career, I thought it was just better to carry on as I was,

“But then when I was talking to him about it all, I realised that it would help me in other aspects of my life too. Yes, I could finally offer you the kind of relationship that you want and that I want to have with you, but it would also let me leave behind the porn and start focusing on what I want to do. You know that I’ve never really been one of those stallions who wants a herd and the porn helped me to get rid of those urges without giving in to them properly. I looked into it for you, but I took it for me.” Licking his lips, Taehyung realises that he feels lighter.

Like a weight had been lifted off his shoulders and he realises it’s because of what he’d told you. He’d been convinced that he was doing this to have a chance with you in the way he’d always dreamed of, but it was startling to realise that it was having such a positive effect in the rest of his life. For once, he was no slave to his instincts and had full control over himself, his emotions and his desires.

Just the thought of never having to do another film filled him with joy and happiness.

“Good. I wouldn’t want you to have changed yourself for me. But given that you have...what does it mean? Tell me.” Those pretty eyes, so big and wide, watch him intently and he gives a small half-smile as he shrugs with one shoulder.

“I mean...it’s basically like an inhibitor I guess? Reduces the amount of testosterone I produce, makes me less reactive to the scent of mares in heat and all that. There’s a whole bunch of medical stuff that I don’t understand but I just know what the doctor told me. It’s safe, it’s been tested many times before, and if things don’t work out, then I can come off them and be back to my old self. It just means that I won’t have the desire to have a herd or to...well sleep with multiple women, you know? Let’s be monogamous, a one-woman man. Finally.” Chuckling to himself, he runs his fingers through his pale hair so it’s out of his eyes.

“So...we could be together? Like...in a relationship? Just me and you?”

“Yeah. The doctor said that as long as I’m on the medication then I’ll be like any other human or hybrid who doesn’t have a poly instinct. Not that there’s anything wrong with that obviously, but it means we can be together. In the future, if you want to be in a relationship or something...then if we decide to have kids or to not have them, I can get gelded and that’ll get rid of the instincts permanently.” Now your eyes widen in horror, hand covering your mouth as you gasp loudly.

“Gelded? They’d castrate you?” There’s a glance down from his face to his groin from you and he can’t help but laugh at the thought. Even if it does make him want to cup his balls protectively.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay! It’s okay! It’s just a vasectomy. Because I’m a stallion, it’s called being gelded. After that, I’d be officially known as a gelding. No longer able to have babies and with no real instinct to make my herd anymore.” Thankfully you look relieved at that and he wants to tease you about being so worried about his testicles. But instead, he just feels happy that you don’t tease him in turn about talking about potential babies already.

That’s a good sign.

“Okay. Okay...so, let’s think about this logically. I mean, is that being too cold? You admit that you like me back and you’re on medication to allow us to be in a relationship and I’m saying we need to think logically?” Taehyung pauses you with a finger to your lips, a smile on his own before he carefully wraps his arms around your shoulders.

He makes sure to give you plenty of time to make sure that you can pull away if you want to if you’re not comfortable with this, but you don’t. Instead, you almost seem to relax into him and link your arms around his waist. You can probably feel his heart beating through his chest, the muscle working extra hard while he feels a little breathless.

It’s not the first time he’s held you, but it feels different this time. There’s something more intimate about it and he can’t help but take a deep breath in, enjoying your scent.

“It’s fine. I’m kind of glad because I’ve made a complete mess of explaining myself here. So at least one of us can think more logically about it.”

“You didn’t do a terrible job. I mean...I’m certainly not going to vote for you or anything but it wasn’t bad. My question to you then...are we dating now?” And just like that, Taehyung’s breath is taken away. To the point, he almost chokes on his spit and ends up having a coughing fit.

Directly into your face, ruining any hint of romance.

Yep, he’d truly fucked this confession up. Taehyung was just lucky that you’d known him for so long that it just made your nose wrinkle as you wiped at your face with your shirt, grumbling lightly before pushing his shoulder.

“Gross.”

“Sorry! I wasn’t expecting that though! I mean, you just straight up asked. I was expecting like...more talking and exchanging feelings. More awkwardness.” Leaning away from him, you give him a very droll stare that makes him wince. Well, at least it was awkward now.

“Sorry for not living up to those weird expectations I guess? I just figure that we’ve spent long enough dancing around each other, right? I don’t want to waste any more time or have any more miscommunication so if it’s too abrupt for you then I’m still not sorry. I like you, Kim Taehyung. And given what you’ve told me, and what you’ve done for me, I want to finally have that relationship I’ve been wanting for so many years.” The authoritative tone in your voice is more attractive than he’d expected, causing his brow to rise.

Feisty.

“Okay. Yes. Yes, we’re dating. Together. We’re together. Boyfriend and girlfriend. I need to shut up.” Clamming up, he forces his mouth to shut and for his muscles to remain still. In reality, he wants to jump for joy and scream out that this was happening. Even if part of him is embarrassed that he’s incapable of talking now.

It’s all worth it though when you give him a huge smile, so big and bright and full of happiness.

“You’re cute, you know that?” Now he’s blushing; cheeks high and a delightful rose as he tries to contain his smile. He’s supposed to be cool, the epitome of an educated man who is extremely experienced around women. And yet here he is, acting like a teenager getting his first girlfriend.

“Not what I normally get called.” You’re the one who looks a little shy at that, your eyes darting away from his as you bite at your lip. There’s a hint of nerves to you now and something else, something he can’t quite figure out. The way you wiggle slightly in place has him frowning in confusion, wondering what’s made you suddenly so quiet. This was the behaviour he’d been expecting from you, so it felt a relief to finally get it but also strange given how confident you’d been.

“What’s wrong? Where’s my bold girlfriend gone?” Gently poking your waist, he tries to ignore the thrill that rises inside him when he calls you that. It was going to take some time to get used to it.

Thankfully, it also manages to breakthrough whatever shell you’d suddenly formed around yourself. Grasping his hand with your own, you let out a soft whine as he continues to prod at you and he quickly intertwines his fingers with your own. For a moment, he’s too busy staring down at your hand in amused awe to remember what he’d asked you.

“Your hand is tiny, you know that?”

“No, you just have huge hands. All of you is huge, just like all of me is small. The difference between a horse and a lovebird.” Now it’s your turn to push at his stomach, a small smile on your face. Taehyung grins at that, but he grins, even more, when he catches your eyes flicking down to his lap.

It all clicked into place in his head, from the way you got shy at him saying he’s not normally called cute to the way you call him huge. You’re not wrong; Taehyung is massive when compared to you. Denser bones add to it at all, allowing him to lift and move heavy weights with ease whereas you’d developed a lighter bone structure that was more reminiscent of birds.

Taehyung had never broken a bone before, whereas you had to be careful doing certain things. But the size difference between you both was made even more obvious when he thought about sex. He was bigger than most human and hybrid males down below, and he wondered if there was something wrong with him that the knowledge you knew that turned him on.

Not that you’d ever seen him naked or anything, but you weren’t stupid. He was infamous in the porn industry for a reason.

Which suddenly made him consider something, his head tilting slightly as he narrowed his eyes at you.

“Have you ever watched my stuff? Like my films or anything? I know for a fact that some of them are on those free porn sites.” Biting his lip, he watches closely for any positive sign. One of the benefits of being a horse hybrid was that he was highly attuned to microexpressions in others.

Originally meant to watch out for danger and keep himself safe, it was more useful for getting an idea of where a conversation was going. It also made Taehyung feel very stupid that he’d never noticed you were in love with him before.

He doesn’t need to have any extra abilities to read your face right now though, not with how you look almost like you wish the floor would swallow you whole. You can’t even meet his eyes and it delights him.

“You have!”

“No! I wouldn’t do that, you’re my best friend. That’d be weird.” Taehyung can sense the distress in your voice and he forces himself to tone down. He had no issues with the idea of you watching his stuff; if anything it was a turn on. But this relationship was so new that it had barely been born and he didn’t want to push your boundaries just yet.

Still, he felt like he had a right to know.

“Hey, listen to me, it wouldn’t bother me if you did. I actually would find it a turn on to know you’ve watched me. I hope you weren’t upset though, I only did all of that to satisfy my instincts so that I could enjoy my time with you. But I made those films and videos for people to enjoy. If you got off to some of them that I’d consider it a job well done. Don’t feel embarrassed if you did.” Using his free hand, he lets his fingers trail along your cheek. It’s warm beneath his touch, the blood rushing in response to your tumultuous emotions and he reassuringly runs his thumb across it.

“You’re...you’re not bothered by the idea of that?”

Taehyung chuckles at your disbelief and shrugs genially, making sure to portray an aura of calm and serenity. The only thing that bothered him about the idea of you watching his videos was that he was already sporting a semi at the very thought of his supposed ‘innocent’ best friend watching him railing some mare.

Which should be a terrible thought, but it just meant that he was all the more experienced for you. There would be no doubt in his mind that he could show you a world of pleasure that you’d never even imagined; as pompous and egotistic as that sounded.

Sex was his area of expertise though.

“I mean...I knew it was a risk when I started. I make porn. Porn is available freely on the internet and I fully expected some of my friends to be at least a little curious. Plus, there’s the whole ‘horse hybrid’ thing going on. I don’t tend to get embarrassed easily around sex. If anything, it’s kinda exciting knowing that you’ve seen some.” You’re giving him a look of pure confusion and he can’t help but laugh heartily.

Oh, he loves you. He loves how befuddled you are at his refusal to adhere to your expectations. Given how reserved you were normally about sex and relationships, it was delightful to shatter your illusions surrounding him and make your perusal of his work sound like a benefit rather than something to be ashamed of.

“So...what did you think? You’ve never given me a rating before, so I’m curious.” Once more, your eyes dart away from his and he has to stifle a snort at how you suddenly find the wall so interesting. The artwork on there was nice, he’d picked it out himself, but it wasn’t that nice.

He doesn’t push though. What he wants is for this relationship to start on trust and honesty. So if you want to trust him enough to be honest about your opinion then he’d accept that. If it was still too early for you; he’d accept that too.

“It was good. I mean, I haven’t watched much. It was years ago and only a few minutes before I felt weird. Like I was spying on you. That’s it though! I swear I haven’t seen anything else. It felt like I was...perving on you or something.” Grasping at his hands desperately, you give him such big eyes that try to get across your honesty.

It makes his lips quirk in amusement and he links your fingers together once more, squeezing lightly. For a few moments, he considers how to respond to you before deciding to just go for it. Which means he slowly leans forward to you, eyes flicking down to your lips and giving you plenty of chances to pull away and leave.

“Don’t worry about it. It’s a little bit of a relief, knowing you’ve seen at least something. But most importantly...can I kiss you?” Taehyung swears you deflate, your entire body seeming to relax with a deep breath you let out.

He’d be worried if it wasn’t for the huge grin that you have painted on your face now, the delight making your skin almost glow with health and happiness. It’s a beautiful look and he feels like he’s enraptured once more, falling in love with you all over again. At least now he has an outlet for these mushy feelings.

“Finally!”

There’s only time for Taehyung’s eyes to widen in shock before you’re shaking your hands free of his own and grasping at his shirt. With a surprising amount of strength, you jerk him forwards and his lips crash against your own. That’s the only way to describe it, as it kinda hurts. His lips mashed against his teeth a little and his nose bumps against yours, causing him to whine.

You let him go almost immediately, looking intensely embarrassed as you rub at your mouth and nose. He does the same, making sure that there’s nothing wrong with his beloved nose while licking at his lips to soothe the dull ache. But then he can’t help but laugh, the sound bright and rumbling up from his chest as he contemplates what just happened.

Every time that he thought you would zig, you instead zagged. Over the years, he’d learnt to go with the flow with you in regards to this with his friendship but for some reason, he’d never quite realised that it would be much the same with a romantic relationship. You defied his expectations and made him feel like he was constantly on his toes.

He loved it, including when almost headbutted him with your first kiss.

“I am so sorry-” You start, your eyes wide and worry emanating from you. He shakes his head, trying to stifle his amusement before reaching out and cupping your face with a gentle touch.

“Okay, how about we try this again but...a little slower this time, yeah?” Keeping your face steady, he inches forward until he can feel your warm breath on his cheek. You’ve already closed your eyes in anticipation and he has to squash the desire to grin, instead fulfilling both of your wishes by pressing his lips against your own.

It’s a soft and gentle kiss at first, exploratory and uncertain. Neither of you knows how to kiss the other properly, or what the other likes, and so you both simply...take your time. Taehyung’s thumb strokes along with the softness of your cheek while your hands flatten against his chest, palms hot where they rest.

He’s kissed a lot of women in his life; some he’s proud of, some he’s not and some he doesn’t even care about. But this is the best kiss so far. Even as slow and unsure as it is, it’s still the best.

Because it’s you.

There’s more than a hint of inexperience in your kiss and it doesn’t surprise him. He knows that you’ve at least kissed a few people before, but you didn’t have a huge amount of experience in it. Instead, it’s just enough that he feels comfortable but not enough to have you take the lead.

So he does, instead. And given how bold you’d been earlier, he takes the initiative to be bold this time as well.

With almost minimal strength required on his behalf, he slips his hands down to your hips and grips them tightly, lifting and depositing you onto his lap without breaking the kiss. He doesn’t even make a noise as he does so, your weight nothing to him.

His ancestors had been bred for heavy lifting and pulling, after all.

What he doesn’t anticipate though, is the way you moan into his mouth or how you wiggle slightly at his action. Pulling from you, one brow lifts as he looks you over inquisitively. His question is silent, but you understand it immediately. There’s nowhere for you to look now, not when you’re so close to him.

So you stare at his chin instead, carefully avoiding his eyes as your hands move to play with his soft hair. The blonde strands are almost golden instead of platinum in the soft light of the nearby lamp, just visible in his vision from where you stroke them.

“I forget how strong you are sometimes.” The words are muttered and he gets the impression that you’re hoping he doesn’t hear. And that he won’t query it further. But he does, of course, he does.

“Do you have a strength kink, Chirp?”

“Wha-no! That’s, why would I-” Spluttering, you lean back a little and take a moment to shuffle until you’re more comfortable on his lap. Your legs are on either side of his now, comfortable in their almost kneeling position but most of your weight is on his legs. He takes the opportunity to wrap his arms around your waist and tug you closer, enjoying the warmth you give him.

“It’s cool if you do. I can fulfil that. Not yet though, if that’s okay. But I need you to know something right now. I don’t want us to have sex right now. Not yet. Since being a teenager, I’ve been obsessed with sex. An unfortunate side effect of being a stallion. For the first time in my adult life...I don’t feel an insatiable need for it. And it’s kinda nice. I don’t want us to start our relationship with sex. I want us to explore each other and our relationship first and then introduce sex. I need to learn that sex is something intimate and between only us now. I’ve spent too long viewing it as work.” He tries to make sure that his words are carefully said and that he’s not rushing them, but now he’s the one a little nervous.

You’d been far bolder than he’d ever expected and now he was worried that you might expect sex from him immediately. It was an easy, even acceptable, assumption to make given what he was and his career. But he didn’t want that. As he’d said, he wanted to start this relationship with love and trust.

Lust could come later.

There’s no answer from you for a moment and he sighs, letting his hands awkwardly stroke at your sides in an attempt to give them something to do.

“I’m sorry if that’s not what you were expecting. Or not what you wanted. I’m a little surprised you’ve been so forward with me and-” A soft fingertip presses against his lips, causing him to quieten instantly.

Smiling softly, you lean forward and kiss him. It’s just as chaste as the one previously, only you’ve controlled yourself a little more compared to your first attempt. He takes solace in it though and now his body is the one deflating. There’s a silent acceptance in that kiss.

When you finally pull away from him, he finds himself chasing after you. It’s an odd sensation for him to do that without any intention of going further but he finds that he likes it. There’s no doubt that you can feel what’s going on in his pants; he can’t control everything after all but just because his body is saying yes doesn’t mean his mind is.

And you accept that. He can tell instantly, from the reassuring smile you give him and how you embrace him so warmly and carefully.

“It’s okay, Tae. I’ll admit to being a little disappointed but I can understand your reasoning behind it. And I’m not going to force you to do something you don’t want to. I know you’d do the same for me. I guess it’s just going to make it better when we finally do get to it, right?” Teasing him, you stick your tongue out and poke at his cheek.

Almost immediately, his nose wrinkles and your laugh lightly. For a moment, the sounds are almost like chirping and he can see your lovebird origins so clearly. That was to say nothing of the fact that you were now subconsciously grooming his hair, fingertips running through the platinum strands and getting rid of any unfortunate kinks or knots.

“Thank you.” He whispers, letting his hands wrap around your waist until he’s hugging you. It takes minimal effort to have you plastered against him, head resting on his shoulder as he embraces you so tightly. You smell heavenly, and he wonders what he did to be given the chance to be with you after so many years.

“Can we go on a date though? I mean...like now?” Tilting his head back, he frowns before looking at the table and the pizza boxes.

“What? Where? We’ve already eaten?”

“Okay, but I’m kinda horny and you’re kinda horny and I think we both need to talk a walk and cool down. So...how about we have our first date? I’ve been waiting a while for this, Kim Taehyung.” Your smile is so big and bright, dazzling him and making his stomach flutter.

He doesn’t even realise he’s nodding until you practically launch yourself from his lap, rushing over to the door and chattering away. If he was being honest, he had no idea what you were talking about as you quickly pulled your shoes on and sorted out your bag.

Taehyung didn’t even care, because he’d done it. He had the girl he’d been in love with for years, who he’d been certain he had no chance with. You could regale him with a thousand and one tales and he’d listen to them all with a content smile because he was yours, and you were his.

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jostepherjoestar · 3 years

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Maybe Jotaro, Risotto, Prosciutto, Bruno and Leone friendship HCs with a fem friend thats llike your generic dumbass but they are just like a soft dumbass, she is just too cute to get mad at no matter how stupid she is. So basically a smol sweet dumbass that just radiate baby energy. Like she just runs up to them saying she want to show them something cool and its just a pretty rock but she looks so happy xjsbkss 💖

Pure of heart, dumb of ass fem!friend with Jotaro, Risotto, Prosciutto, Bruno and Abbacchio HC’s

sfw // fem reader

lemme just say, reader is baby and that’s valid 🥰this is so adorably pure ugh ya done killed me anon 🥺💖✨(can very much relate tho, glad my friends put up with my dumb antics)

Jotaro:

“Why am I friends with you again? Yare yare...” A phrase you’ll hear every time you’re hanging out with this tall bastard. He’ll tease you for being a bit of a dumbass but is incredibly drawn to how kind, sweet and absolutely thoughtful you are.

You remind him of Josuke and Okuyasu which only makes him like you even more. And the added cuteness-factor made him admit to himself he does indeed love cute things, no matter how adamantly he denies it to you.

His favourite thing to do is bring you along to the beach for field research, knowing just how wide eyed and giddy you get when you’re allowed to collect shells and rocks or even poke a jellyfish. You seem very good at spotting irregularities in your surroundings, making quite the good assistant to Dr. Kujo.

You’re even allowed to help with lab research, studying petri dishes filled with algae as you excitedly point out a very important detail he hadn’t noticed yet, too tired from working such long hours. Sometimes you’re quite the genius without even trying.

More than anything he loves the amount of lightness you bring to his life, his studies and general headspace take a large toll on him. Any relief is a welcome one.

He’ll often find himself smiling at the thought of hanging out again, staring at the collection of trinkets he keeps in a cute little Hello Kitty box you once gave him, which rests on his nightstand as a reminder that it can’t hurt to adapt your lifestyle of mindless giddy; even just the tiniest bit.

Risotto:

Being close friends with Risotto seems a bit impossible without being in his squad, he’s very insistent at keeping outsiders of Passione more than an arm-length away. Good thing that the stoic man is your capo, phew!

He’s apprehensive at first, not really sure why the soft round pebble you brought him reminded you of the man as he studied the mineral, admiring its softness. “It’s like you! Soft and worn down, but very sturdy and unbreakable.” smiling sweetly at him, excitedly awaiting a response.

What was this new feeling of being appreciated and cared for? Risotto’s never really experienced a friendship so pure. He’ll quietly thank you for the pebble and keeps it on his desk, staring in awe as he’s reminded of your kind words every time he spots it.

He knows the others like to tease you for not always being aware of general human knowledge, shooting them an intense glare as a warning to keep any rude comments or jokes to themselves.

Your friendship consists of him mostly listening to you, quietly taking in all the stories you divulge- so full of excitement, telling him facts you picked up somewhere; the source of these often containing varying levels of credibility. He won’t correct you though. (unless it’s something that might actually endanger you)

He values your friendship so.much. He’s not used to being treated so kindly, receiving random gifts, being praised for a job well done, having someone who doesn’t judge him in the slightest. He’ll do whatever he needs to keep you safe, from others and yourself, along with trying to return your kindness and care. (he tries his best and it’s so cute)

(you guys hold hands for safety when you’re out in the city... just saying, it’s adorable)

Prosciutto:

Prosciutto has a chronic case of “caring older brother disease”. Will need to hold himself back from tying your shoelaces for you, the man knows you can do it it yourself but it’s just taking sooo long.

Just like Risotto, you’d have to be a team member to get close to him in any way. Good thing he recruited you ;)

It’s a bit hard to make him open up about anything personal. You feel like he knows everything about you, while you barely know a thing. When he sees your pouty lip and begging gaze that is way too cute to deny, he’ll cave. Perhaps finally realising it’s alright to lean on others.

He’ll still struggle with continuing the openness, but find relief in your loyalty and understanding. The way you intently listen to his troubles, there to hold his hand if he ever needs it, it makes his heart hurt to know how sweet and gentle you are.

Will keep you and Pesci separate during missions, he’s already getting a migraine from imaging everything that could go wrong without his guidance.

For someone who’s a little more on the dense side, you make up for it in emotional intelligence. Whenever you see how stressed he tends to get, eye twitching without even realising while his shoulders hunch together in discomfort, you come over to hug him. It’s something he had to get used to, the small gesture always calming him down enough to keep going.

Does not appreciate you slipping cute trinkets in his suit pocket. Especially not after finding a snail that one time. You’ve been forbidden from leaving pocket gifts since the incident.

Bruno:

It concerns Bruno just how clueless you can be from time to time. That one time they almost left you behind on a busy station with no cellphone because you found a coin on the ground made him realise you need some extra supervision.

He’s not the type to hold you back from doing things that are guaranteed to result in disaster (unless it’s literally deadly), he wants you to experience the consequences of your own actions.

You do make him hold back his laughter when you try out a stupid idea you know has failed in the past, but change your methods slightly to hope for better results. And you know what? Now he’s curious too.

The man has a weird sense of humour that sometimes even surprises you. He’ll copy your habit of picking up strange trinkets or rocks and asks you to compare findings with him. Like trading marbles, he’ll barter with a smirk.

“Mhh, if you give me that cute shell and that pointy rock... I’ll give you this keychain.” His alluring offer making you question if you’re getting swindled or not. “Hey! That shell is at least worth two stickers!” He’ll heartily laugh at your reply, a mischievous smile while thinking over the trade. “Ok, two stickers and a pebble then.”

With a firm handshake the deal goes through. The rest of the gang never knows how to respond, staring in amazement as their grown-ass capo barters with their grown-ass teammate. He loves being silly with you and forgetting all the pressures of life for just a moment.

Bruno takes his time opening up to you, but finds your presence so comforting it becomes very easy to trust you. As a vital part of his team he finds it important to be able to lean on each other for support and is glad you offer him just as much trust and loyalty.

Abbacchio:

Will never admit he can’t live without you anymore. You’ve become the shining beacon of assumed happiness the man never thought existed. He knows you won’t always be go-lucky and have your own troubles and struggles but admires how you handle them.

Don’t get me wrong, he’ll still gladly tease you for your occasional (well, more like frequent) stupidity. He’ll let you know with a big huff you should smarten up; “Read a book that doesn’t have pictures in it for once.”

He’ll be the first to correct any wrong info you’ve been given, unless he thinks it’s funny. Like when Mista made you believe you needed to order dessert at Libeccio or they’ll kick you out for breaking their beloved rule. It’s only when he saw the panic in your eyes when you finished your main course one day -too full for any sweets to come- that he assured you it was a dumb joke. (he’ll put all the blame on Mista)

Abbacchio seems to tether to people who have a positive influence on him without even realising, it won’t be obvious to him, but just like with his loyalty and admiration for Bruno, he’ll make sure you know it once he finds out.

Not that it’s a bad thing, his need to cling to anything that might help him stay afloat just needs to stay healthy. You didn’t even realise your effect on him, you were too busy trying to figure out a way to turn that scowl into that smirk.

After gifting him a handmade friendship bracelet that had the shortened versions of your names spelled on it, he hugged you. So tightly it was suffocating, you were shocked since he’s never been the touchy type. “Leone! I can’t breathe...” He’ll let go after the complaint but that look on his face will never leave your memory. The face of being loved unconditionally by choice, no matter how unworthy he might think himself of it.

#cozy request #physical affection from friends? it's more likely than u think #jjba x reader #jotaro x reader #risotto x reader #prosciutto x reader #bruno x reader #abbacchio x reader #jjba headcanons #jjba imagines #jotaro kujo #risotto nero #prosciutto #bruno bucciarati #leone abbacchio

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arwenkenobi48 · 3 years

Text

The PDF That Saved My Life - Why I Love “All Tomorrows” With All My Heart

(Content Warning: Discussions of trauma, suicidal ideation and sexual abuse)

*clears throat* So, as some of you may be aware, the past few weeks haven’t been easy, not in the least. I was struggling with serious suicidal urges and feeling extreme anguish towards my own body and soul. I believed myself to be tainted, filthy and all manner of destructive and negative things.

The reason behind this breakdown was due to the realisation that I had experienced sexual harassment and assault multiple times throughout my life, including an occasion last year in which I was groped by an immediate relative. I had been aware of the incident since it happened, but was in denial. I was thinking “It couldn’t have been that bad, right?” But after trying unsuccessfully to repress it, I had to face the facts that she did what she did. I was heartbroken and I’m still deeply saddened by the realisation. Everything just seemed to fall apart and I psychologically imploded, plummeting into a dark pit of worthlessness and childlike sorrow. I felt as if I had been thrown into a mental oubliette; just tossed away and forgotten about on every level. Whenever I wasn’t bawling my eyes out and grieving my lost innocence, I was stress-eating and lying in bed, feeling nothing. Every now and then, I’d receive a short burst of energy, but nothing substantial, and the feelings remained.

Despite all of that, though, I didn’t want to die. A small part of my mind wanted to hold on and ride out these waves of suicidal thoughts. But I also knew I shouldn’t have to be going through this cycle of building up and breaking down, so I finally managed to seek professional help. There’s another thing that also pushed me towards seeking help and eventually guided me out of this dark place, and that’s the work of science fiction I mentioned in the title. All Tomorrows by C. M. Koseman (I hope I’ve spelled that right).

I don’t remember exactly how I came across it, but I think it was the video by Alt Shift X on YouTube that did it. As you can imagine, my dark thoughts weren’t only directed towards myself, but the world at large. I was wondering how life could be so cruel as to let something so horrific happen to me. I saw the thumbnail of that video and I didn’t know what it was. I had vaguely heard of All Tomorrows, but was more familiar with the much more nihilistic Dougal Dixon book Man After Man, and as such I got the two confused. I clicked on the All Tomorrows video, barely paying much attention and dismissively thinking: “oh great another sci-fi dystopia that predicted humanity’s inevitable downfall”.

What that video showed me absolutely blew my mind. As I discovered C. M. Koseman’s intricate worldbuilding science fiction project, I became fascinated and enthralled by the journeys and evolutions of the various post-human species, from the fun-loving Satyriacs and the mellowed out Snake People, to the bloodthirsty Killer Folk and the horrifying Bone Crushers. Yes, many of the stories were very, very sad. The Mantelopes lost everything and devolved because intelligence was so painful. The Striders, Titans and Temptors were all wiped out before they had the chance to truly reach their full potential. The Qu and Gravitals, one could say, ruined everything. But what truly amazed me was the fact that many, many of these stories also contained great happiness.

The Colonials, for example, suffered through the kind of torture that I wouldn’t wish on the Devil himself. Being wedged together into a wall of flesh bricks, all while retaining intelligence. And yet, they managed to turn into the beautiful Modular People and create a utopian society. Yes, the Killer Folk are traditionally violent, but the ones that made the biggest progress were the ones that chose peace over war. The Satyriacs started off as the mindless Hedonists, but were able to use their intelligence to appreciate every moment of their joyful lives. The lowly Worms became the comfort-loving Snake People, always able to appreciate the little things in life. The flattened Lopsiders rose up from the ground and became the proud, tall Asymmetric People. The list goes on, but you get my point.

The point is, even though this future humanity went through the sort of Hell that makes the past few years look tame by comparison, they always managed to rise up. Sure, nothing was ever quite the same again, but they managed to make something new and wonderful out of that. When you cut an orange, you may not have a whole fruit anymore, but you have lots of slices that can be shared with everyone. The best thing you can do is move forward. The future will always hold something better for you, even if that seems impossible. Don’t be afraid to reach for it. The final quote of this incredible piece of sci-fi wiped away the remnants of dark still clinging to me: “Love today and seize all tomorrows.” To me, that meant “Be a kind soul and you can achieve anything.”

This entire story ignited a strong feeling of empathy within me; an emotion I thought I was too traumatised to ever properly feel or express again. I think that was the point. Sure, the many strange post-humans may not look like us, but we cannot deny that they are human and that brings out the best in us. We shouldn’t be afraid to show empathy for our fellow humans. Thinking lowly of what collectively proves to be our best quality, claiming we’re “above” it and aiming to become “bigger than” everything else deprives us of our humanity. Empathy, compassion, love, that’s what makes us truly powerful. If we can learn to love today, the utopian future we all dream of will finally be ours.

Love is something that, from an early age and for over half my life, I was never truly given. But that doesn’t mean I can’t give it to others. Just as the post-humans were able to move forward and rise from the ashes, I fully intend to do the same. I’m safe now. The people who hurt me are gone from my life and will never hurt me again. I’m surrounded by loving friends, in a city I love, attending a university I love, receiving the therapy I need to heal and soon to be medically transitioning too. Even though I still struggle to accept it, I’m learning to love myself as well. I think that’s the greatest love someone can ever feel. If I continue to love each today that comes, all the tomorrows will be brighter and brighter.

And to think this all started because of a PDF about the hypothetical future of humanity. I’m determined to hold on no matter what. Idk if C. M. Koseman uses tumblr or any other social media for that matter, but if he comes across this somehow, I just want to say “Thank you from the bottom of my heart. I wouldn’t be here today without All Tomorrows.”

https://youtu.be/-WIk29qtrIo

youtube

(PS: I know I have stumbled and made mistakes on my platform as well. I’m still a little bit unsteady after being in such a dark mental state for so long. I’m sorry about that. I am doing better. Thank you all if you made it this far. I love and appreciate every single one of you.)

#arwen speaks #tw: abuse #tw: suicidal ideation #tw: trauma #all tomorrows #personal philosophy #Youtube #science fiction #the future #empathy #the power of love #queue

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theasstour · 3 years

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𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐎𝐧𝐞𝐬 𝐋𝐞𝐟𝐭 𝐁𝐞𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐝.

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 𝟕.𝟓𝐤 𝐍𝐁: 𝐛𝐨𝐝𝐲 𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐠𝐞, 𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐭 𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐮𝐚𝐠𝐞, 𝐝𝐫𝐮𝐠 𝐮𝐬𝐞, 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐩𝐲 𝐦𝐞𝐧

A/N: Thank you so much to everyone who reblogged and sent me an ask after last chapter ❣️ I might not have gotten through all the asks yet, but know that I see all of you and I appreciate you more than I will ever find the right words to articulate 🌟 Thank you for the kind words and for reminding me of how fun it is to post my stories on here! Love you sm sm sm 🥰

Tuesday, 4 November 2017

One of the worst things Y/N knew of was seeing someone she cared about go through something troubling. If she knew them well enough, it would be written out on their face and in their gestures, making it so that she could not ever look past it and pretend everything was alright. Her ability to read people, to understand their wants and to see when something was off, was something she had crafted over many years of being a people pleaser. Now, it came naturally to her to study a person’s way of acting, talking, being, and then make them happy accordingly.

She realised when she grew older that the reason she did this was so people would look past her body and like her for who she actually was. She hated herself sometimes for still giving in to this need to please people all the time. She hated the things it had made her do in the past, how she had bent herself over backwards for people who did not, and would never, give a single shit about her. Though she felt at home in her body, she felt content in it, these tendencies to constantly make up for how she looked, to make light of it or make people feel comfortable around her, still hung around. With absolutely everything she was, Y/N hated that part of herself. She did not have to make up for anything. What did she have to apologise for? For existing? It did not make sense to her, but it had made sense to those that bullied her in school and those skinny people whose worst fear was becoming fat. Y/N’s worst fear, because of this, was not being liked. She realised how it all connected now.

Y/N realised how this need to please people came into play as she was sitting in a seminar room with Hayden, Chloe, Thian, Annalise, and three others from the International Society that Annalise often went to. Annalise was whispering in Dutch to the other Dutch girl she had met, while the rest of the room was relatively silent. Hayden had put on some music to lighten the mood, but it was evident that they were unsatisfied and sad. They were eight people; a single game of Uno was being played in a room that had been made so that at least 20 people would show up. Hayden had bought five decks of Uno, only for the one they brought with them to London to be the one the group ended up using. Their eyes drifted to the door every so often, silently begging for anyone else to show up to what looked to be a disastrous start to their Uno Society.

After two hours, they had to get out of the seminar room and go back home. As they were cleaning up, Y/N walked over to Hayden and helped them put their Uno decks and everything else they brought, back in their bag.

“More people will show up next time,” Y/N assured them.

“You’re just saying that.”

“No, I genuinely think more people will show up at one point.”

Hayden smiled at Y/N, though it did not reach their eyes. “If we don’t have at least 15 people by the third meeting, this won’t be considered a society by Helmond standards and we won’t be allowed to meet on campus grounds.”

Y/N felt a small tinge of panic at that. This was not usually the society people would jump to be part of, it would take a little while for people to want to show up to an Uno Society on a Tuesday every fortnight.

“We can hope more people will come, but I doubt they will,” Hayden said.

“There aren’t a lot of people our age who play Uno, though,” Chloe said as Hayden and Y/N made their way to the door.

Y/N furrowed her brows at Chloe’s comment, but did not say a word.

“No, but I love Uno, and it’s a very social game. It’ll be fun if a lot of people show up, you know?” Hayden said, closing the door behind them before they walked down the corridor for the exit.

“Obviously, people just don’t know what they’re missing,” Thian chimed in, showing off his usually wide, happy beam. “It’s a great idea, Hay.”

“Really? It’s not bound to flop?” Hayden asked, scrunching up their nose as if they could not quite believe what Thian was saying.

“Of course not,” Annalise said.

“It’s a nice break from all the assignments,” Y/N said.

“By the way, speaking of assignments,” Chloe groaned. “Y/N, have you started on the Othello presentation yet?”

“You haven’t had the presentation yet?” Thian asked.

“No, different Introduction to English Studies seminar groups have presentations at different dates,” Chloe said. “Since Y/N and I are seminar group E, we have it last. Monday, 4th of December.”

“That’s still a while away, though,” Hayden pointed out. “You still got a month.”

“Yeah, but the presentation’s 40% of the final grade. I know I’ll ace the essay, but we only get to have a five-minute presentation on Othello.” Chloe rolled her eyes. “How am I supposed to talk about how Othello’s a sexist play in just five minutes?”

“Easy,” Thian said. “You talk about how it’s a sexist play for just five minutes. You love to talk, it’ll be easy peasy.”

“I love to gossip, this is entirely different,” Chloe complained.

“Not really,” Y/N said, cocking her head a little to the side as the group rounded a corner. “You’re essentially just gonna gossip about Othello and what’s wrong with him and the way Shakespeare wrote the play.”

Chloe stared at Y/N for a few seconds, pursing her lips as she thought. A grin spread out across her lips and she nudged Y/N’s shoulder. “You’re right.”

“It’s gonna be fine,” Annalise smiled.

“And by the time that happens, the Uno society will be history,” Hayden mumbled, making Thian pout his bottom lip and wrap an arm around Hayden’s shoulders. They all made their way back to Dinwiddy, Lancaster Complex, and Fleming Hall, three of the seven different campus accommodations. Dinwiddy was definitely of a bit better standard than Lancaster and Fleming, but Y/N was sure that, had she decided to live on campus, she would have gone for either Lancaster or Fleming like Annalise, Thian, and Hayden. She said goodbye to all of them and went on her way, walking back to Haggerston while talking to her parents on the phone. They always insisted she call them if she walked out alone at night, no matter how many people were around.

The shops she strolled by were starting to put up Christmas decorations and sales, making Y/N long for holiday. She just wanted a few days off uni. Though it was only the first year, the amount of work they were getting was ridiculous, and Y/N felt like she either spent most of her time in the library with her Literature gang, or at a café with Nathan, doing uni work. The fact that Christmas lights and decorations were already making an appearance, gave her some hope.

Getting to Orsman Road was no problem, and Y/N hung up with her parents when she reached the flat building. The mere thought of her bed made her knees buckle, she could not wait to be snuggled up in a blanket and watching the newest true crime series on Netflix. Once inside, she got her shoes and outwear off, then walked straight for the kitchen. She halted.

In a pair of worn-out black rugby shorts and a black hoodie, Harry stood pouring water into the kettle. The muscles in his legs flexed and unflexed as he moved, making it impossible to look away from his thighs. Y/N could not find the right words to express just how much she hated those tiny shorts. It was as if he knew exactly what he was doing. Except he didn’t. He was very much just trying to wear something comfortable at home and Y/N was ogling him. He looked up as she entered.

“Hi,” Y/N said, walking over to the fridge where she kept her oat and banana milk.

“Hi,” Harry answered, watching her as she walked before putting the kettle on. “Been out shagging old men?”

Y/N blinked a few times before looking over at Harry as he put a teabag into his mug. “You’re very obsessed with my sex life.”

“I’m just nosy.”

Y/N sighed, knowing this was true from experience, and went back to getting her milk out of the fridge. “No, I was at a society meeting. The first one, actually.”

“Oh?” She could see in her peripheral vision that he turned around to watch her. “What kind of society?”

“Uno.”

Silence settled in the kitchen, and Y/N could hear Nathan and Mason in the living room next door playing something on the PlayStation. Y/N could feel Harry continue to just look at her as she poured herself a glass of the oat and banana milk. It was not until the milk was back in the fridge and Y/N met his eyes, that Harry spoke again.

“Uno?”

“Like the card game.”

“That’s… a niche interest.”

She raised her eyebrows. “And you’re being judgemental.”

Harry’s eyes grew wide. “No, no, no! I-“ He stopped himself, taking a grip of the kettle and quickly pouring himself a cuppa before meeting Y/N’s eyes again, something frantic shining within his own. “It’s just a very specific interest and society.”

She raised one of her shoulders. “Which is what makes it so amazing.”

“Yes. Yes, of course,” Harry said quickly, gesturing at her with his hand as if he completely agreed. Y/N wanted to laugh at how fast he was talking, as if he was desperate for her to understand that he was not being judgemental. “How was it?”

“Barely anyone showed up,” Y/N explained, sipping her milk.

Harry frowned. “Really?”

“Yeah, and at least 15 people total have to show up for it to be considered a society, or else Hayden, my course mate, can’t continue hosting on campus grounds.” Y/N sighed, looking at the ground. “Basically, if Hayden doesn’t find, like, twelve more people to join within the next two times, we won’t have a society any longer.”

Harry opened his mouth as if to say something, but just then, the sound of quick footsteps could be heard, and then Nathan’s face appeared in the doorway. A grin spread out on his face as he met Y/N’s eyes.

“Thought I heard you come in!” he exclaimed. “We’re playing GTA, wanna come drive some people over?”

Y/N smiled at that, scrunching up her nose. “As appealing as that sounds, I’m gonna have to decline.”

Nathan pouted his lips and Harry stood watching quietly. “Why?” Nathan asked.

“Have an essay that I need to finish.”

Nathan sighed heavily. “Fine. Guess I’ll let you write that bloody essay.”

“Excuse you? ‘Let me’?” Y/N rolled her eyes and Nathan laughed. She gave him and then Harry a smile, making her way out of the kitchen.

“Have a good night,” she heard Harry say as she walked through the doorway. She gave him another smile before walking up the stairs and to her room. She quickly got out of her clothes and into loungewear, taking all her make-up off and finding a fluffy blanket she could sit under in bed as she started writing her Introduction to English Studies essay. She could hear the boys shouting and playing downstairs and drowned it out by putting her earbuds in and shutting them out.

She ended up reading academic articles and writing down an essay plan until she felt her eyelids get heavy a few hours later. Putting her laptop away and finishing her oat and banana milk, Y/N took her contacts off and started getting ready for bed. The door to the room beside hers opened and closed, she could hear Harry rummaging in his room, though the sound was not disturbing in any way. The only disturbing thing about it was the fact that it was Harry, but Y/N was learning to accept that. It had only taken her two months, but she was coming to terms with the fact that Harry Styles, an ex-good friend of hers and person she had sex with once, was living and sleeping in the room right next to hers.

Friday, 17 November 2017

The pizza at Domino’s was absolutely amazing, but working for them was anything but. This was only Y/N’s first shift, and she was already dreading her next. Not only would she be bringing home with her the memories of a horrible first day on her new job, but she would also be bringing the smell of greasy pizza. She would have to do a deep clean in the shower before going to bed, she was not rubbing that smell onto her bedsheets.

With some experience working for Pizza Express before, Y/N was already well-versed working for a pizza chain. Pizza Express had been her job from 15 until she moved off to uni at 19, which she knew was what must have given her this new job at Domino’s rather quickly. As much experience as she had working at Pizza Express serving people, she had never been the one to drive around delivering pizzas. After all, she had not gotten her license until sometime last year, so it had never been a possibility. However, in the job description for this position at Domino’s, it had clearly stated that Y/N would be working mostly as a delivery driver, something that sounded chill at first, until she realised she would have to go deliver pizza to people that would be anything but friendly. Or maybe a little too friendly. Because of her inexperience in this particular field of the job, she had another employer join her for her first shift.

Isla was very quiet, maybe even a little too quiet for Y/N’s taste. She would mostly just stare out the window, sometimes chime in to help Y/N pick a quicker route, or help her make out how much she owed the customer if they paid a few quid too many. Other than that, Isla did not really offer much conversation wise. Even when the two of them picked up the pizzas for their first drive, the first time they spent together, Isla did not say much.

“Have you worked here long?” Y/N asked, giving Isla a smile so she would know that she was actually asking out of curiosity and not because she felt obliged to.

“A year.”

Y/N nodded as she sat down behind the wheel, Isla sitting down in the passenger seat. “I worked in Pizza Express at home in Nottingham before I moved here. Dunno why, I’ve always preferred Domino’s to Pizza Express. Though, Zizzi is top tier.”

Isla only nodded slightly.

Y/N had waited for a response, but realising she would not be getting one, she started the Domino’s car and started driving in the direction out of the parking spot on the street beside the tiny restaurant on Homefield Street. Y/N almost drove right into the Domino’s mopeds that all stood on the spot in front of the car. She just knew that at one point, she would be driving one of those. She followed the instructions on the GPS, up Hoxton Street, in the direction of Lavender Grove. Without any radio on, the car was very quiet. Too quiet. It made Y/N break out in sweat.

“Do you drive around with deliveries often?” Y/N asked.

Isla shook her head. “No.”

Y/N whipped her head back in the direction of the street in front of her, trying to produce spit so she could nervously swallow. Her mouth was too dry. “You work by the till then?”

“Mostly.”

Y/N smiled. “That’s the best place to work, isn’t it? Don’t have to drive around, don’t have to actually make the food.”

Isla gave a feeble smile. “I suppose.”

God, all Y/N wanted as an okay day. All she wanted was for one single day to be alright.

Isla would twine a single piece of her brown, bushy hair around her finger sometimes, then put it behind her ear, only to go back to fidgeting with it. Y/N was unsure if she was nervous to be in a car with someone she did not know, or if she was just deep in thought. Y/N wanted to get to know Isla, to make a friend at her new workplace, but she did not want to harass Isla if it meant it would make her uncomfortable. It was clear that she did not like being this close to Y/N considering the two had never met before and would now be spending a good six hours together. Therefore, to not push away what she hoped to be a future mate, she only made occasional conversation and then left Isla mostly to herself. She could sense that was what her companion wanted most of all.

In a particularly dodgy part of Lea Bridge, Y/N was delivering three pizzas to what she knew even before knocking on the door, would be to a rather creepy encounter. The man that opened the door was bald with glassy eyes and a blue tee shirt tucked into his grey joggers. At the sight of Y/N, he grinned.

“Three pepperonis?” she asked, wondering if this man just really loved pepperoni pizzas or if he was hosting a party.

“That’s me, yeah.”

“Alright.” Y/N handed him the three pizzas just as another man emerged from behind him, and it was then that Y/N noticed the incredible stench of alcohol and cigarettes. Some 80s rock was playing from a stereo and there did not seem to be much light on inside the flat. Y/N suddenly felt very sick.

“You pre-paid,” she stated, more to reassure herself that she could just leave than to make them aware that she knew they did not have to go get any money to pay her. “Have a nice night.”

“Wouldn’t be nice if you didn’t stick around,” the bald one holding the pizzas said.

“Yeah, why don’t you come inside? Have a bite with us?” the other one offered. “You look like a hard-working girl, why don’t you take a few minutes off with us?”

Y/N could feel her heart begin to beat faster, her hands begin to sweat. “No, I have to get back to work,” she said, giving them a smile before walking off.

“Wait, we didn’t give you a tip!”

“Come back, love!”

Y/N tuned them out as she walked down the stairs, keeping an eye over her shoulder and her ears on alert as she made her way back to the car. Isla was sat on her phone when Y/N sat back down in the driver’s seat, putting her seatbelt on a little too fast and gripping the steering wheel harder than she had previously. She just wanted to get away from those men, she just wanted that shift to be over.

“You okay?” Isla asked. The first question she ever asked Y/N. First time she ever took initiative to start a conversation. Y/N really appreciated it in that moment.

“Yeah,” Y/N said, sighing heavily. “Just hate men.”

Isla must have understood what Y/N was talking about because she nodded, looking straight ahead at the road in front of them. “I’m sorry you met the worst type of customers on your first night.”

“Had to meet them at one point, though,” Y/N said.

“You shouldn’t have to meet them at all.”

Y/N felt that statement reverberate through the car, lay in the air between them for quite some time after it was said. She could not stop thinking about it as she drove to the next destination, feeling disgusted and angry. Had she stayed there a second longer, she would have had to resist the urge to knee them both in the space between their legs. This was just one of the stupid encounters that night, though the rest were more so on the scale of weird than disgusting. Like a man that was clearly high thanking Y/N for his frozen milk when he had ordered three Ben and Jerry’s, or a woman with her hair a mess, make-up completely destroyed, and just her dress robes on, snatching the pizza out of Y/N’s hand before hurrying back inside. It was a strange few hours, and as she drove the car back to Domino’s Homefield Street, Y/N felt absolutely drained of energy.

Walking home after her shift at 3:30am was next to torture, she just wanted to be in bed, cosy underneath the covers, and forget about the fact that she was working tomorrow night as well. Though the Hoxton Street was washed in the yellow lights from the streetlamps and the occasional car driving by, it was anything but empty. Drunk people were walking home from pubs, while others, like her, walked home from another nightshift, and some were just out for a night stroll. She walked without listening to music, not feeling comfortable with not being completely aware of her surroundings when it was dark out. Besides, she was so tired as well, listening to music would probably put her to sleep.

Orsman Road was completely deserted, only a few people walking home from The Stag’s Head passed her smelling of beer and cigarettes. This street was darker, smaller, and less busy than Hoxton Street, so Y/N opted to walk in the middle of the road instead of in the shadows. She felt less vulnerable that way. As she reached the flat building, she got her keys out of her purse and went to unlock the door.

“Fancy seeing you here.”

She jumped, keys falling onto the asphalt. Looking over her shoulder, she saw Harry standing there with the smuggest, most infuriating look on his face. God, how she wanted to slap him until his teeth fell out. While she contemplated how to physically hurt him, Harry bent down, picked up Y/N’s keys, and put them back in her hand.

“Don’t lose those,” he said. “50 quid to get a new pair.”

Y/N only narrowed her eyes, unlocking the door for them both and striding on to the next floor. After opening the door to the flat, she got her shoes off, and walked straight for the kitchen. She needed strawberries, especially after the shift she just had. The door closed behind Harry and she heard him lock it before taking his shoes and jacket off, too. As she turned around after closing the fridge door, Harry stood by the kettle, filling it up with water.

“Didn’t know you worked at Domino’s,” he said, looking over at her briefly, nodding at her black Domino’s fleece jacket before turning his attention back to the kettle.

“Just started.”

“How’re you finding it?” he asked.

Y/N sighed, leaning her hip against the counter. “Considering this was my first shift and I have to show up again to work another nightshift tomorrow…” She pursed her lips as if deep in thought. “I’d say shite.”

Harry laughed, stopping the tap. “Tea?”

“No, I bought myself some banana and oat milk from M&S earlier, I’ll just have that. Thank you, though.” She gestured at what she had placed on the counter while he was busy with the kettle.

Harry watched her as she got herself a glass for the milk. “Can’t for the life of me remember you being a Tory.”

Y/N laughed. “Oh, you don’t remember me hating the poor?” she said, putting on a posh accent, Harry could not hold back his own laughter. “Quite a big part of my personality, don’t know how you missed it. Now-“ She put the milk back in the fridge. “-If you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go spend five weeks at my £1.000.000 18 century holiday house in Surrey.”

Harry’s laughter echoed through the kitchen as he put the kettle on, shaking his head at her. “No, but how’d you like your first shift? Anything like Pizza Express?”

Why the fuck did he remember that? Why did he have to remember everything? Bloody hell…

“Not for me. There were just a lot of creepy men, and some very dodgy neighbourhoods. I’m sure that’s not all there is to the job as a delivery driver, I’m sure I was just unlucky my first time, but I can’t really afford to quit unless I have a backup.”

Harry frowned at that. “If you don’t like it and you feel unsafe, you don’t have to continue doing it.”

She nodded her head. “No, I know, but it’s still the only job I could find and that I could get at the moment. I’ll apply to others later.”

Harry’s frown deepened, crossing his arms over his black, tee-shirt covered chest. No tattoos on display. She wondered why he only had tattoos on his chest and torso.

“Yeah, alright…” he said, voice a little darker than before. “But if you feel unsafe-“

“-Harry, I practiced capoeira when I was younger, remember?”

At that, as if he was slowly unveiling a memory he had not thought about in a little too long, Harry smiled. A small, fond smile that Y/N remembered from a previous life; a life with far less troubles, far less complications than this one.

“Of course I do.”

Not “yes”. Not just “I do”. “Of course”. He had said “of course”, as if remembering was a privilege. As if not remembering would be the strangest thing in the world. Y/N hated that this man did not forget a single thing. Never had, never would.

“Well,” she said, trying to act normal after that. “Well, I can hold my own.”

“Good to know,” Harry smiled, getting a teabag from his cupboard. As he turned his body and face away from her, she saw something glisten in the lights of the kitchen. Two earrings. Two gold earrings right next to one another. In his ear. Y/N would never admit to it out loud, the sight made her mouth salivate. “But I still think you should quit if you don’t like your work.”

Y/N opened the strawberry container and took one out, taking a bite. She needed to look away from Harry, away from his two earrings, and away from him because he was making some points. She knew where Harry was coming from, she really did, but she could not go on living in London, using money every single day, and not have an income. Until something better came along, this would be her job. “How’s the pub?”

“Alright,” Harry said, pouring hot water into his mug. “I’m having my last shift there December 15th.”

Y/N blinked. “You’re quitting?”

“Yeah, I’m starting a new job in January.”

She raised her eyebrows, meeting his gaze again. “Okay, good for you. What one?”

“Tattoo artist.”

He had to be fucking kidding at this point. Y/N had to do everything to keep her eye from twitching.

“Just got my tattoo license, so I’m ready to go come January.”

Y/N did not want to admit it. She could not admit it. She physically could not. But… everything about Harry… everything he did, everything he said… It all hit different. And it did not help that Y/N, who loved tattoos, getting them, having them on her body, and seeing them on someone else’s, was now made aware that Harry could legally give people tattoos. He was going to become a tattoo artist in January. Y/N wanted to eat chalk.

Harry just looked at her, studying her face. “You okay?”

She swallowed the strawberry bite she had just taken. “Fantastic.”

Harry raised his eyebrows. “Really?”

“Did you draw your own tattoos then?”

For the second time that night, Y/N was witness to Harry’s smug smile. He raised his cuppa, cocking his head a little to the side as he said, “You’ve seen my tattoos?”

Y/N wanted to die.

“You’ve been sneaking into my room to watch me sleep, that it?” Harry asked. “You’ve probably seen the tattoo I have by my crotch then, too-“

“-Oi!” Y/N narrowed her eyes at him. “Piss off. I saw them when you were wearing that low-neck top at Footprint.”

Harry took a sip of his tea. “If you say so.”

Y/N rolled her eyes and Harry laughed.

“It’s jokes, Y/N.”

“Good. I’m genuinely scared you think I fancy you.”

Harry smiled. “You mean you don’t? Really?”

She took a hold of her strawberries and milk. “Goodnight, wanker.”

“I’m a dreamboat, what about this-“ Harry gestured at himself, flexing his arm muscles that weren’t really there. “-Doesn’t give you the fanny flutters?”

“You’re disgusting.”

Harry laughed.

“I was just interested to know about your job as a tattoo artist ‘cause I love tattoos,” Y/N explained.

Harry’s eyes travelled down to Y/N’s hand where the ‘M’ was tattooed, it lingered there for a moment too long. For some unknown reason, a tingle started up in Y/N’s thumb, making its way up her arm and to her breasts, then her stomach. Slowly, he lifted his eyes to her ribs where he must have seen her ‘saudade’ tattoo. Though it was not visible right then, it seemed as if Harry was seeing it all the same, sensing it somehow. At last, his eyes met hers, and Y/N felt something in her throat stop working. The tingle that had laid in her stomach just seconds earlier exploded, slithering all throughout her body and making her hyper aware of how knowledgeable Harry was of the tattoos on her body; of her. He must have paid more attention to her than she thought he had. Something about that made it hard to breathe. Bloody hell, she hated how fucking fit he was. She hated how she reacted to his glance, to his attention.

“I can tell,” he said, voice a tinge darker than before.

She was surely about to explode. Blinking a few times, she held her strawberries up, nodding her head to Harry in a silent goodbye, then made her way towards the door.

“Oh, Y/N,” Harry said, making her look over her shoulder at him. “Do you want some Ginger Nuts? I’m having some with my tea-“

“-No thanks. Goodnight.” Y/N walked straight out of the door and to her room, needing to stick her head out her window to cool down in the Regent’s Canal breeze before sitting down in her bed again. How could he be considerate, respectful, smart, pretty, and sexy at the same time? Some otherworldly powers had truly been at work these last few years to make Harry Styles into everything Y/N was attracted to.

She did not even want him as a boyfriend, she never had, there had never been any romantic feelings between them before and there never would be, but he was just so… so… frustrating. In every single sense of the word. He was just… very attractive. Very pleasing to look at. Everything that got to Y/N. And Y/N wanted to scream at Harry for making it so hard to ignore him, and at herself for falling for it.

Wednesday, 29 November 2017

Y/N was originally going to travel home to Nottingham that Friday so she could stay home that weekend. She had not been home since September, and though they only had two weeks of uni left before Christmas break, she wanted to go home this weekend. She missed her parents terribly and wanted to see them so badly, she could simply not wait until Christmas. So, because it was the last Wednesday of the month, Y/N travelled back up to Nottingham.

Every last Wednesday of every month, Davi would invite all of his Brazilian family who had settled in Nottingham after he had, as well as Lottie’s parents, over for feijoada. Brazil has many region-specific dishes, yet the one that best translates into a nationwide dish is the beloved feijoada. The name stems from the word feijão, which is Portuguese for bean, and also the key ingredient of feijoada, which is essentially a bean stew mixed with beef and pork. Though, depending on what region of Brazil you are in, you will find different ingredients added to the feijoada.

In Rio de Janeiro and Minas Gerais, feijoada is almost always cooked with black beans, while in Bahia, red or brown beans are preferred. In Bahia and Sergipe, they also usually add extra vegetables to the feijoada such as plantain, kale, potatoes, carrots, cabbage, and pumpkin. However, in the rest of Brazil, feijoada is simply beans and meat with no additional vegetables. It is served with white rice, shredded kale with bits of fried bacon, crispy pork crackling, and slices of oranges that are meant to aid the digestion of the heavy meal. Which is what Y/N had grown up eating.

Typically, it is served at noon on Wednesdays and Saturdays, as this hearty meal is a thick mixture that will have you full in no time. The only activity Y/N would recommend after it, is bed and a good book. Maybe even a little nap. Their big family often used to eat it during the weekend as it meant more time spent with the family, more time spent chatting and being social, but Davi who worked in a bakery, had often worked Saturday and Sunday afternoons, meaning that it would fit best for the family to keep the tradition of hosting the meal on Wednesdays at Davi and Lottie’s house. Which was why Y/N was on her way home that Wednesday at the end of November.

Closing Vidas Secas by Graciliano Ramos that she had just been reading, Y/N got up from her seat to get off the train. Graciliano Ramos was Y/N’s favourite writer of all time. Though she loved English Literature and especially loved studying it, she always found his works to be better than most. He was the only modernist writer she could stand. São Bernardo was her favourite of his novels. A story about a man who, having been born poor, gets rich using any ruthless means he can and ends up utterly alone. It had stuck with Y/N her entire life. The main character’s ability to love others, his selfishness, and arrogance, make up one of the most complex characters of world literature, in Y/N’s opinion.

In the last chapter of São Bernardo when Paulo Honório reflects on his life alone at night, Y/N found some of the best few pages she had ever read. The closing words ‘I ruined my life stupidly’ express the agony of a man whom Y/N learned to despise throughout the book, but who, thanks to the mastery of the author, leads us with him through his tragic life choices towards self-destruction. Y/N got goosebumps just thinking about it.

Stepping off the train with her small bag and book under her arm, Y/N walked straight for the train station exit. She recognised her mother’s brown hair in a bun at the top of her head, a pair of colourful flare trousers on along with a white buffer jacket. Lottie jumped up and down at the sight of Y/N and ran for her daughter, throwing her arms around her in a tight embrace.

“My baby,” she said, kissing Y/N’s cheeks and forehead. “Oh, my Y/N.”

Y/N hugged her mother back, burying her face in her mother’s neck. She did not care that she could hear Vidas Secas fall into the tiled floor or that her bag would get dirty where it lay, all she cared about was her mother’s embrace and the smell of home around her. She was fluent in two languages, yet Y/N could not find a word that could quite capture how happy she was to be home just now.

“Okay, my dove,” Lotte said, taking Y/N’s bag off the floor. Y/N bent down and picked up her book, bringing it to her chest. “Let’s go home.”

The two of them walked out to the car park, and Lottie quickly started driving them in the direction of Y/N’s childhood home. The familiar ride and the familiar city outside the car windows made her relax, sinking far into the seat until she felt enveloped in safeness and contentment. It didn’t take them long to reach the semi-detached brick house, all their family members’ cars parked out front and visible in the windows overlooking the street. Y/N took her own bag this time, and her mother led the way up the stairs to the house so she could open the door for her.

There was no time for Y/N to go upstairs with her bag and book, because she was bombarded with hugs and kisses the second she stepped inside. Her grandfather, avô, her grandmother, avó, her papai’s two sisters and her aunties, tia Gilma and tia Lara, their husbands and her uncles, tio Jaren and uncle Finnley – who was British and had met Lara after she moved here -, and her seven cousins, or primos. They all came rushing to her, with her British grandmother and grandfather grinning and waiting for her to be done hugging and kissing everyone. Being with them and smelling feijoada everywhere, made Y/N almost tear up. Blimey, ever since moving away to University, she had become so incredibly sappy.

“Amorinzho!” came like a scream from the kitchen. Davi came out into the foyer with his apron still on and the biggest grin on his face. He threw his arms around Y/N. “Eu tenho saudade de você.”

She had missed him, too. So much. She felt safer, more at ease, almost more herself now that she was reunited with her parents close.

So, she told him that as she whispered, “Eu também senti sua falta,” back. Her papai hugged her a little tighter at that, grinning at her with tears in his eyes as he squeezed her shoulders.

“Y/N!” avó shouted from where she now sat in the living room, her grey hair in a long braid down her back and a big knitted cardigan wrapped tightly around her small frame. “Venha comer!”

“I’ll come eat in a second,” Y/N said. “I just need to put my bag in my room.”

“I’ll do that for you, my sausage,” Y/N’s grandfather said, stroking her cheek before he bent down and brought the bag with him up the stairs to her room. Since her mother had been an only child, her parents, Y/N’s grandparents, had always been very caring and constantly present as Y/N and Marcela had been their only grandchildren. Not that her avós had not been present, because they really had, her entire family had, but her grandparents’ life had no meaning if it were not for Lottie, Y/N and Marcela.

Y/N walked past all her family and to the kitchen where her papai stood making her a plate of feijoada. He handed it to her and she smiled at him before helping herself to some rice. Just then, Lottie walked into the kitchen as well, hugging Y/N from behind before she walked over to make her daughter something to drink. Silence stretched out in the kitchen as conversation started back up again in the living room, everyone talking about everything and nothing, in English and Portuguese. But, something that was unusual for her parents, they did not say a single thing. Though this might not be unusual for some, it was extremely unusual for someone who came from a generally very talkative family.

“Charlotte,” Davi said, looking over at Lottie. “We should…”

“Not yet.”

Y/N looked over her shoulder at her parents. “What?”

“We should tell her.”

“She just got home, Davi,” Lottie reasoned. “We can tell her later. Let her enjoy her feijoada.”

“No, what’s going on?” Y/N asked again, turning her body to face them now.

“No, amorinzha,” Davi said, squeezing Y/N’s shoulder. “Your mother is right; we can talk about it later. It’s not appropriate to do it now.”

“What’s going on? What’re you talking about?” Y/N looked at her papai, then at her mum, both of them sharing a look with one another that Y/N did not understand. Over the years, she had become a master at deciphering what her parents were discussing when they shared looks, though she never managed to quite understand the proper subject of discussion, she could detect the mood. She understood this was more of a serious matter.

“Tell me,” Y/N said, feeling her heart begin to beat a little harder, a little faster, the more time went by without any of them saying anything.

“Fine,” Lottie sighed. “Put your plate down first.”

Y/N did so reluctantly, not taking her eyes off of her parents. If it was serious enough for her mother to want her to put her food down so she would not drop her plate, then Y/N was on the fence if she even wanted to know what was going on or if she wanted to live in blissful ignorance of it.

“Your pai and I have decided to sell the cabin.”

Y/N’s heart stopped beating. Her body felt numb, the chatter in the living room deceased to exist as she just looked at her mother, and then at her papai. Her mum, and then pai. Suddenly, as if slapped with a brick, Y/N’s brain roared to life and her body came as hot as coal. She looked at her mother who had been the one to speak, her mouth falling open and shutting again as she continued to process what she had just been told.

“You’re… you’re going to sell the cabin?” Y/N asked them, just to be completely sure that what she heard was correct.

“Yes,” Davi answered.

“You’re selling the cabin?” She could not believe it.

“Y/N-“

“-You’re selling our Newport cabin? The one in Wales?” she asked again, her voice rising now. They did not have any other cabins, but Y/N just had to know she was not mistaken. They couldn’t… They couldn’t just…

“Y/N, we never go there anymore,” Lottie reasoned. “We want to spend the money we use on the cabin on something else, we don’t know what yet.”

“So, you’re just going to sell the cabin where your daughter was murdered?” Y/N asked, voice filled with so much rage she barely recognised herself when she spoke. “Where Marcela was most likely stabbed? You’re selling that cabin?”

“We’re never there because she was… she was killed…” Davi cleared his throat. “Spending time inside that cabin when we know what happened inside it, does not feel right.”

“No, selling it isn’t right,” Y/N said. “What if there’s more evidence inside? What if there’s somewhere they haven’t looked?”

“Baby, they have cleaned out the cabin and there’s nowhere they haven’t looked. There’s nothing more they can investigate,” Lottie explained. ��We don’t want to own that cabin anymore.”

“Kit murdered Marcela in there,” Y/N said. “Her murderous ex-boyfriend is running around somewhere because no one investigated that cabin thoroughly enough.”

“Selling it doesn’t mean they are going to stop investigating Marcela’s case, amorzinho,” Davi pointed out.

“We don’t… We still don’t know if Kit did it,” Lottie mumbled. “It was most likely him, but there could have been someone else who killed Marcela, Y/N.”

“Marcela’s body hasn’t been found, there’s no trace of Kit’s blood or remains on that property. That murderer is on the loose, something inside that cabin can tell us he killed her, I am sure of it.”

“Y/N, Kit hasn’t been seen since the murder either. Maybe he was killed, too,” Lottie said.

“Mum, Kit was a rubbish person, why are you sticking up for him?” Y/N groaned, running her hands over her face.

“We decided, Y/N,” Davi mumbled, rubbing his daughter’s back. “It’s happening.”

That was all Y/N needed to hear. She took her plate in one hand and the glass with water her mother had made her in another, and she walked straight past everyone in the living room and up to her room. She felt like a child stomping past everyone like that, but she just needed to be with her thoughts. There was absolutely no way they were selling that cabin. Not that cabin. Y/N was sure there was evidence in there somewhere, the police and the investigators had just not looked thoroughly enough. That was all. And if they had done a shite job, well… that just meant Y/N had to do it for them. She had to go to that cabin and look for herself once and for all. After all, who else would? It did not seem like anyone cared anymore.

NEXT UPDATE: Sunday, 21th March, 9PM GMT!

Huge thanks to my AMAZING beta readers! 🏛️ @aileenacoustic 🏛️ @devil-in-bw-the-sheets 🏛️ @sunflowerstache 🏛️ @fromyourstrulyh 🏛️

FIC PAGE | COME TALK !!!

#harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x reader #harry styles x you #harry styles smut #harry styles angst #harry styles fluff #harry styles fic #1dff #:DDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDD COME TALK PLSSSS :DDDDDDDDDDDDDD

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mobagehelllocal · 3 years

Text

“lucky ending” extra notes i & iii

Hi, I said I would do it but then I released ver i so long ago that I felt I shouldn't do this unless I had another version out at least so yay! finally! ... I'll add ver ii here when I get around to writing it... *shifty eyes* So as usual, this is just my thought process and ideas while writing lol.

*please do not read if you haven’t read “lucky ending” ver i (dorm leaders) & ver iii (rook & lilia).

It was inspired by an anon ask and the button tradition from Japanese schools.

The anon ask went like this: First at all, I like do much your writing and I hope you are doing well. Second, I was wondering what would happen if the MC (Fem!s/o I guess) decided to not go back to her world, like she decide stay with her villain? Can you do make headcanons of this for the dorm leaders? Thank you very much. – from Anonymous

The button tradition, as narrated by the first years, is done when one person confesses and the other responds by giving them the button closest to their heart. In most Japanese uniforms it’s the second uniform, but in Twisted Wonderland--I looked at the ceremonial robes and the closest button should be the fifth. Maybe. I could be wrong.

The songs I listened to while writing this!

The original dorm leaders (and Rook) was written while listening to “Lucky Ending”, the ending theme of Fruits Basket. The English lyrics (translated by otenkiame!) are:

“Change is important. I want to do it well,/ but I wanna cry. It's still bad. I wanna cry”

“The word "goodbye" has disappeared completely from this world/ All that remains is me fooling around next to you/A day you don't laugh won't come anymore”

“I've understood it since being here/ These feelings of wanting to protect you aren't a misunderstanding/ If we can call what connects us bonds,/ everything changes/ everybody changes/ Even if in a different world, it'll never be different/ everything changes/ everybody changes/ Don't change, ever/ Stay here, stay here”

I think it’s obvious why I chose to use this as the title of the series. It’s a story about change but it’s also a story about the things you don’t want to change... And I think it’s not wrong to want to hold onto things.

I also listened to the same playlist that I listened to while writing “wendy?” “hello peter pan”:

“Can’t help falling in love” cover by Annapantsu, “If you’re not the one” by David Beddingfield, “Who Knew” by P!nk and “All Too Well” by Taylor Swift.

For Lilia in particular, I was listening to three Beauty and the Beast songs on loop. “Evermore” by Josh Groban, “Days in the Sun” by the live action cast and, of course--”How does a moment last forever” by Celine Dion.

“How does a moment last forever?/ How can a story never die?/ It is love we must hold onto/ Never easy, but we try/ Sometimes our happiness is captured/ Somehow, our time and place stand still/ Love lives on inside our hearts and always will”

Also for Lilia, Tolerate It by Taylor Swift.

“You're so much older and wiser and I/ I wait by the door like I'm just a kid”

“I made you my temple, my mural, my sky/Now I'm begging for footnotes in the story of your life”

Malleus was definitely the first piece finished. Closely followed by Vil’s. I believe there was a gap inbetween them before I did the others? I wrote bits and pieces of Leona, Idia, Kalim and Azul’s. I think I finished Leona, Idia, Kalim then Riddle because I distinctly remember saving Azul for last.

One of the most important things for me, is that each story stands distinct of each other. So I gave myself a really hard time trying to figure out how each one uniquely belonged to each of the characters.

For the Prologue... I think because it’s set at the graduation of certain characters, I used that to my advantage and implied the stronger bonds between the Yuu!Reader and the entirety of the cast. Because a lot of time has passed and I feel like--regardless of what other people believe, bonds will be made and relationships will have strengthened enough for it to happen.

Riddle is honestly another really difficult character for me to write. I generally do love him and I enjoy his story, but something about him is difficult and I’m not sure why.

I think a part of me is also really miffed because from Heartslabyul-Savanaclaw, you could feel that Riddle really cared for Yuu on some level but then he just straight up disappears come Octavinelle chapter. I feel like there was potential to develop their relationship even more.

He WENT UP AND TIED YOUR RIBBON I REMEMBER I WENT DOKI DOKI OVER THAT.

I feel like because I’ve established that it’s a Yuu!Reader, it’s impossible for this story to not include both Ace and Deuce. So of course they featured in really big roles for this one, being responsible for telling Riddle the story.

I have to thank my friend, Mes, for bouncing ideas with me. They were the one who suggested what I could do with Riddle’s story by having ADeuce play such a big part!

I also tried my hardest to include Trey and Cater, and I’m pretty happy with their cameo. In a way, they definitely helped Riddle figure out his own feelings for you.

My favourite lines are: “I think you earned that much. I don’t believe anyone’s ever been in your situation before so—there’s no right or wrong about what you’re doing. It’s all about what you want to do.”

I wish someone would tell this to Yuu in general though. They’re the only one who has ever been in their situation (to our knowledge at least) and like... they’re definitely allowed to be even more selfish.

Leona is someone who I used to dislike a lot. I never hid that. It’s primarily because of how disappointed I am in the story of Savanaclaw probably. But like, I was always concerned about writing him properly because I thought that it was only right that I did right by him, because there would be people reading these stories who loved him. And I felt like I had to do right by that love.

I think... it’s wrong to believe that characters... villains... cannot fall in love or “won’t fall in love.” I think it’s wrong also to think that “people don’t change for love.”

In fact, people do change. You definitely shouldn’t change yourself to be loved, but... people change all the time to be their “better” selves. So whose to say that a good person, who you love, will not make you want to improve yourself? Isn’t that what we want when we meet people? To fall in love with someone who will ultimately make you better and never worse.

Or so that’s how I try to write the Twisted characters when they fall in love... With an understanding that “morally” the person they are falling for is “kind” and “good” and how a part of them might just want to be better just for that person. (Especially Leona and Azul). They don’t necessarily have to be nice to everyone, but if they can be better for one person... We stan healthy character growth.

But yeah, Leona is driven by understanding that he’s a very selfish person. But that he’s also very unfortunate and he doesn’t want tie you with someone who, he thinks, is actually worthless. He probably, deeply, thinks you deserve more.

Though his selfishness eventually wins out and well... Won’t you forgive him for it? :) For tying you down to this worthless second prince?

I think his own self-awareness does make him try harder. Not for everyone or everything... but for you. Just for you. I think that would be Leona’s love language--spending time with you, trying for you.

He’d appreciate if you didn’t call him out on it though, that would be very embarrassing.

Looking back, I’m surprised that it was the only version where none of the other boys from his dorm showed up lol. Which means Ruggie is the sole character who has yet to appear in the “lucky ending” series, huh.

My favourite lines from his story that still leaves me breathless and patting my past self in the back: ““I’m home—” you said—even if a part of you felt that home should have been two green eyes, a cocky smirk, and a warm patch of sunlight on the grassy ground.”

Like honestly, what was I on? Who was she?

Azul is, like Leona, someone who is so keenly aware of the things he’s lacking. In fact, he’s someone who thinks he’s lacking when he’s probably perfect in some aspects. He might act proud but a part of him--I think--thinks its not enough. It’s never enough. He can certainly do better still.

In that light, it’s why he thinks he’s undeserving of a partner. Especially one who is “kind” and “understanding.” While ultimately, Azul deserves people in his life who are that and “accepting” of him--I think he still thinks he doesn’t.

And thats why he lets go of the Yuu!Reader. It’s why he doesn’t “chase” after her like Leona did.

It’s because he’s selfish, because he wants her--that he forces himself to let go.

Azul needs someone who’ll tell him that he is worth something and that he’s definitely worth the effort. So please praise him a lot until he’s crying in happiness. I’m sure it’s the one thing he’s always wanted to hear from people around him.

Also my Poly!Octavinelle Agenda has never died and I am pleased Past!Ai got away with so much Poly!Octa hints in this story lol. But honestly, regardless of wht Octavinelle says... god, you can tell they genuinely care about each other.

I recently rewatched Octavinelle’s chapter and... by god, the amount of things I missed out on first watch. Jade’s concern when he realized Azul wanted to get rid of that photo... The fact Floyd was so willing to drop the fight to return to Azul too... Anyways, Poly!Octa Agenda for life.

Favourite lines: “Azul’s pathetic whimpers turned into guttural sobs. His fingers spread to cover his eyes—and his glasses slid off his face, down to his lap and then to the ground—at his actions. His whole body shook as he cried his heart out.”

It’s not as poetic as a lot of my other favourites, but for some reason these lines always get me when I reread them. There’s something so visceral about it.

Azul’s piece is probably the least visually stimulating out of all these stories? His was so emotionally driven compared to the others and I worried a lot about that.

I think I remember I was crying so badly as I was writing this.

Kalim is really hard for me because I feel like I struggle a lot with finding conflict in his character? He’s such a genuinely nice person, I find it hard to believe that the Yuu!Reader would feel alienated from him or something. So I brought in “environment” to get in the way.

My use of celestial imagery for Kalim is because of the Scarabia trailer! I really loved how it put Kalim as the sun and Jamil as the moon. I definitely will take advantage of that when I get around to writing for Jamil.

So because I wanted to use the sun, I chose to use the idea of comets for Kalim? I think I remember something about how meteors are drawn to the gravitation pull of the sun and can “escape” it or “be destroyed” by it. Haha, hot.

Jamil is someone who ultimately cares about Kalim too and I had fun writing his banter with the Yuu!Reader. I think I wanted to decribe the shadows licking his face reminscent to the marks from his Overblot but... I felt like doing that would give Jamil too much focus so I ultimately decided against it.

It would’ve been hot though.

Oh yes, one thing I wanted to talk about is Kalim’s rushed proposal. I remember people talking about it in the tags, comments... even in asks at that time. The reason he does it is because he’s someone who didn’t realize his feelings until you spelled out your own. It was a sort of: “Oh. Right. That is the word I’d use to describe my feelings.”

My favourite lines from his story is: “How does one bid goodbye to the sun?” and “No one ever willingly bids goodbye to the sun.They spend the rest of their lives trying to find the right way back to it.”

My god, who was this genius.

Vil is probably the most visually stunning out of all these stories. I feel like my stories go from super vivid imagery and setting to just complete emotional disasters lol. (Vil being the former and Azul’s being the latter... not that it’s bad, it actually suits the characters).

Oh man, I remember thinking that Vil is such a hard character to write because we don’t know what his motivation for perfection is. All we knows is that he wants to be the best but, why?

It’s like, for example, Idia. His motivations could be otaku-related. He doesn’t want to go to class because he’d rather go play or something. That sounds in character--but Vil was so hard because he wanted perfection.

But we already see him as such a perfect character, so what else did he need to be even more perfect? In that light, Chapter 5 did a really good job on presenting Vil’s motivations.

But honestly, I think I can comfortably say that the Vil I’ve written so far is pretty accurate? To his character. I’m really grateful I read his chat lines because his comment about intelligence really got me thinking about his possible motivations. It made it really easy to understand that Vil wasn’t like majority of the real world’s influencers.

One other thing that I was really happy about with his story is the use of the flower language. It’s something I hope I can use more because it’s so beautiful.

Oh! And the roses the Yuu!Reader talks about are double delight roses. They are specifically bred to have two colors--yellow in the center and pink on the outside. I thought it fitting that the Yuu!Reader breed special roses for Vil.

They can be called... err... Vil Roses?

My favourite lines from his story is: ““My happiness will not be dictated by others—no, Vil Schoenheit is a person who will grasp happiness with his own hands.” [...] “I’m giving you this button because I’ve already found happiness by your side.””

This line was actually inspired by Zelda C.W.’s MYth series. Specifically Hera’s story, Will.

Idia ...for him, I somehow had a very hard time imagining him trying to tell the reader to stay. Like that didn’t compute for me? I felt like his version was better approached in a more comedic light somehow.

I also felt that it would be cuter if the Yuu!Reader had already chosen to stay and Idia would need to hastily retrack his confession... Unfortunately, Yuu!Reader won’t let him.

Honestly looking back on it, I wonder how much of Chapter 6 is going to make me scream and want to rewrite Idia’s part?

My favourite lines from his story is: “He was never particularly good at lying—nor was he good at keeping secrets from you. You were a person he considered a dear friend—and he was always the type of person who ended up spilling everything to you. He liked being able to talk about the things he enjoyed—he liked that he had found someone who wanted to hear him out.”

A lot of my interpretation for Idia is closely linked to personal experience as an anime, manga and gaming fan. It was just a couple of years ago where people would actually be bullied for liking these things--but nowadays its become a norm. It’s... stunning actually but it makes me happy to know that maybe nobody will be judged for loving anime.

That being said, Idia’s longing to find someone he can talk to is something I really relate too--back then, it was so difficult to find someone to talk to about my interests... So I interpreted Idia as much the same. That what he enjoys about the Yuu!Reader is their ability to simply sit and listen to him talk.

Malleus... man, recently I’ve been starting to fall in love with him all over again. He was my first oshi ever... Anyways, moving on. You think I’ve talked enough about immortal x mortal but nope, we are not done. I love this theme in general, romantic or platonic.

I will never shut up about it you can’t make me.

Sebek having a good enough friendship with Yuu!Reader is such a delicious concept. Like mutual respect and Sebek understanding that Yuu!Reader gives Malleus a different type of companionship that Sebek, Silver or Lilia couldn’t...

And also, ultimately, Sebek and Yuu!Reader do love Malleus. In different ways, but I like the thought of Sebek respecting that and respecting the Yuu!Reader.

Me realizing just now that Silver joins Ruggie in the: “has never appeared in a lucky ending fic club.”... Sorry Silver, I swear soon. Once we get more content on you.

Celestial themes for Malleus are primarily, again, because he only ever seemed to meet you at night. And I thought it would be wonderful, if you were a bright spark to him.

Favourite lines are definitely: “Oh, bright light… I would prefer to live the rest of your life by your side… rather than spend centuries contemplating what it could have felt… to hold you in my arms.”

I am, always, going to be such a big sucker for the idea of immortals constantly remembering and loving mortals. Always holding them close in their memories, because in that way--their lovers have become immortal with them.

I also like to imagine that he eventually figures out a way to connect your worlds together so you can still talk to your friends and family from that world. He is one of the most powerful magicians around, I’m sure its possible.

Rook was honestly the most difficult piece for me to write because he’s so hard(?) for me to understand. He’s a mess of contradictions honestly and I... guess I’m excited to see what he’ll do come Chapter 6.

I actually rewrote his story so much. I got about 500 words with a different idea/plot in mind before deleting that completely and restarting from scratch.

I feel like Rook is someone who talks big and talks about love without actually knowing what it truly might feel like. He’s someone who doesn’t understand it and ends up mistaking it for his fascination.

Aside from me enjoying inserting other characters from the same dorm as much as possible, I felt that Vil was the perfect person to snap some sense into Rook.

Epel’s appearance there is basically to reflect how much I really hope the first year kids get really close to one another.

Rook is also someone who I think, doesn’t try to explain himself too much. He’s someone who I think talks a lot, but if people don’t understand him then he doesn’t need to be understood? That’s my impression. Lol, when “lucky ending” became a character study.

I also really loved the idea that Rook was fine with people running from him--to him that makes it all the more thrilling. But then you start running away from him and that just ends up making dread pool in his stomach.

My favourite lines from his story: “‘When something ends, it must be sad. So, tell me then, how an ending could be so beautiful?’ [...] .‘But there was one ending that was beautiful, non?’ [...] ‘That’s right. ‘They lived happily ever after’—are those not the words that define a beautiful ending?’”

I used the dusk metaphor for Rook. My idea is that he starts seeing dusk as an ending and how he can’t fathom how any “ending” is beautiful. When a story ends, it’s not beautiful to him, humu. But when that ending is the happily ever after then... That makes all the difference.

Lilia was actually easier than Rook’s but also fairly difficult. I had written the middle of Lilia’s piece while stumped on Rook’s actually. Lilia’s was probably easier because I love the idea of immortals and mortals.

I don’t really like the idea of mortals becoming immortals. Like, yes, it’s certainly sweet and spending eternity with a one true love is definitely the best possible ending but... I think there’s so much weight in an immortal choosing to love a mortal while knowing that they will ultimately lose them.

The biggest theme for Lilia is definitely time.

Thinking about it now... There’s been a lot of things in real life that’s just... Made me think about how we have less time than we actually think we have. And I think I ended up channeling that through Lilia... Though I feel like it is ultimately things Lilia would think about though.

The most important imagery would probably be the stars.

I honestly wanted to avoid it because I used celestial imagery for both Kalim and Malleus but the words just flowed out in a way that I felt that I couldn’t replace. So I went with it.

Lilia is no stranger to loneliness. One of the reasons he feels less alone is because he has family now and he doesn’t want to rob you of that. Family is so important to him because they are people who are meant to be with you--they are people who will make you less lonely--or so thats how I think? he thinks.

My favourite lines from his story: “He would relish in the way—You made the world pause. You made a moment extend into an eternity. You made an immortal crave just a little more time.”

I’m so immensely proud of this one? I don’t really have much else to say. There’s something so raw about it that I love. Also the part where it continues on to say that “Because there is never enough time.”

Me realizing my extra notes is just half me simping over these characters, half sharing headcanons, have actually giving good advice? perspective?, half song lyrics, half character study/analysis?

“lucky ending” is about change. Whether we want them to happen or not it’s... the human condition to change. For better or worse, we change--day by day. I think we all operate under a small panic about how everyday things are changing...

But “lucky ending” is also about the things that don’t change. Won’t change. Will never change. The things worth holding onto, the thing worth fighting for... or so I’d like to think.

#aimuses #ainotes #ai lucky series #twst #twisted wonderland #its 6 AM HEEHOOO

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kim-ruzek · 3 years

Text

Messy, chaotic perfection

Summary: Family isn't just who is blood, but who is in your corner, who makes you feel loved and cared for, who is safe and who is home.

Season 8 au, goes off if Kim never miscarried, Burzek are together, and season eight still went somewhat how it did.

Warnings: mentions of canon events (shooting, foster situations).

Word Count: 3.5k

Read on AO3

Notes: This is a Feel Better fic for the amazing, incredible and so, so strong and brave Cíara (@fighterkimburgess ). Cíara I love you, you deserve the world, and you deserve to know that I (and all of us in this fandom) have your back and wish you all the best in your life ♥️

Life can be unpredictable, events that you never expect to happen can occur and feel like that was always meant to happen all along. This is a lesson Kim has learnt over and over throughout her life, but one she’s only finally beginning to fully understand it, that it’s always going to happen in ways you don’t expect.

Like today.

Today, when she woke up, Kim thought she’d have a tiring day at work with all the racists that Kevin, and by extension them since Kevin is their family, is having to deal with but that it would be relatively drama free and she and her boyfriend—which is a word, that no matter how juvenile it sounds, makes her feel all giggly inside at—would come home and have a nice relaxing evening with their daughter.

She didn’t expect Patrol to not show up when they called and she definitely did not expect Adam to get shot. But that is life, as Kim has kept learning recently.

“Careful, let me grab the door.” Kim quickly darts in front of a very impatient and unfussed Adam, moving so she can unlock and open their front door before he can. Adam sighs.

“Kim, I’m not an invalid.” He grumbles and she flashes him a glare before she opens up the door.

“Adam, you were shot.” She holds up her hand. “And no I don’t care if it’s was in the vest. You were shot and you were lying there and I thought you were dead. And now you’ve got a bruise on your chest and Will said that you have to take it easy—it could affect your lungs if you overwork yourself.”

Kim already knows that she’s probably going to spend the next few weeks seeing Adam lying there on the grass whenever she shuts her eyes. Just like she knows that Adam gets why she’s being so fussy, even if he’s being his typical bad patient self.

“I can still open doors. You know I like opening our door for you,” At that, Kim turns away from the door, facing Adam. She closes what little distance they had between them, resting her hands gently on his chest.

“I know, but you’re injured. Let me look after you. And—we’ve only just found our way back together again, I don’t want to loose you, and I don’t want our daughter to loose you.” Adam’s eyes soften and he gently kisses her forehead.

“Yeah. I’m sorry, darlin’. I’m just stubborn.”

If this had happened years ago, this probably would’ve ended up making an even bigger dent in their relationship, and god knows if they’d be able to communicate—and truly understand each other back then. But they’re not those young people now, they’ve grown and learnt so much, and are completely dedicated to making this work.

Especially because they’re parents.

“Hey, Ally!” Adam is immediately greeting their six month old as soon as they enter the flat, Kim not far behind, the two parents cooing over her instantly.

“Can you hold her?” Trudy gives Adam a wary eye, holding the child she, without hesitation, claimed as her granddaughter. Normally they’d have their nanny here, taking care of Ally, but given that Adam was shot and had to be looked over, Trudy had relieved their nanny instead, just in case they arrived home later than usual.

“You’re as bad as Kim, of course I can,” Adam grumbles again, mostly with good humour. Still, Trudy glances at Kim just to double check, who nods and then Trudy is helping to pass the girl to her father. Usually, Adam would scoop the girl out of her arms with ease, but—showing that he is taking Will seriously, or at least their daughter’s safety seriously—he had hesitated, waited for Trudy to help.

“You should sit down, I’ll get dinner on.” Kim tells him. She then looks at Trudy. “Are you staying or going home? You’re welcome, of course.”

“I’ll leave the three of you be. Randall has his shift in the morning.” Trudy kisses her granddaughter good-bye—leaning down to do so, Ally babbling in Adam’s arms on the sofa—and then it’s just the three of them.

If you had told her a year and a half ago that this would be her life, Kim would struggle to belief you. Adam and her felt like history, something that never had the timing it deserved and that they’d only be relegated to friends with benefits.

And being a Mom? That was so far out from the cards Kim was dealt, she didn’t think it would happen for quite a few years, and even then, it felt like a impossible and distant thought.

But she has both. A relationship with Adam that is strong and decent and a proper, communicating relationship and the beautiful daughter who made it possible.

At first, Adam and her were determined to be co parents only. More her than him, if she was honest, but he understood her side.

But then Kim hit her second trimester and with it her renewed sex drive and inability to keep her hands off him and platonic co parents got more and more unbelievable—especially as they moved in together.

The reasons why they decided to just be platonic still hung over their head, however, and so they had to have a serious conversation—several, in fact—about their relationship and what it would look like and be like. They both knew that with a child in the mix, they had to be committed and determined because their baby would be impacted.

Kim did have worries about it, about if they could keep communicating and not fall back on old habits, but by the time Ally came along, their relationship had only grown stronger. The new-born stage is a tough time for parents, and they had their moments, but that only brought them even more closer and Kim now no longer has any of those worries.

Domestic bliss is something she’s always wanted to have, alongside a fulfilling job, and there’s days Kim can’t quite believe that she’s found it.

Her life isn’t perfect, no life is. And there’s tensions at work, and with their best friend going through some horrific stuff, life doesn’t feel easy. But they have each other, and they have Ally, and Kim keeps feeling like she’s reached as close to perfection as she could have.

When she was younger, Kim imagined that having perfection would be calm, would be peaceful. And maybe for others it is, but it’s not for her. There’s always some madness in her life; she’s a cop, after all. And she’s learned to appreciate the short peaceful moments that she gets. But sometimes, sometimes life is just quiet.

It had been a few weeks of quiet that Kim had realised her life hadn’t had any madness in it. Her and Adam were just going about their routine, day in, day out, watching as Ally continued to grow and marvel them and she realised that.

And then she knew instantly that the madness was coming.

It came the next day.

Adam and her had just picked up their morning coffee from a coffee shop. It had been a while since they could, usually having to make do with the district coffee—having a baby means time is precious and money is dear—but they did this morning, the two of them in a good mood and having a ridiculous conversation about boats.

And then there was a lost six year old girl walking through the road.

Everything got a lot more busy after that, as they tracked down her family and worked out what had happened.

Being a Mom has definitely changed Kim, and she had to go into a corner—Adam joining her, wrapping his arms around her—and have a little cry in the locker room. All she could think about her daughter, her Ally, loosing her family like that and it activated the still distantly present hormones leftover from her pregnancy.

And it made her more determined to help the little girl, Makayla, especially when the girl had apparently bonded to her. Kim was told that she was the best person to talk to her, and even though she’s a mother, she had doubted her abilities. There’s a difference between her baby who’s just learning to talk and move about to a traumatized six year old but the doubts were misplaced, Kim managing to get that connection.

Makayla had wanted her to come to the safe house with her, which Kim did. Luckily Adam was by Trudy’s desk and he gave her nod, telling her that Ally and him will be okay. Still, Kim was glad that she’s already had a night away from her daughter so that she could go with Makayla, so that she didn’t have to let down this vulnerable girl who needed her just as much.

The safe house had turned out to not be so safe, and Kim’s mama bear instincts—as Adam has affectionately coined—kicked in and she instantly said she’ll be taking Makayla home, no questions.

Of course, she had glanced at Adam, silently checking with him. Adam had nodded again.

“Ally’s already with her grandparents so yes, Makayla will be staying with us.” Adam had immediately supported her, his voice just as firm and decided. Kim had already worked out Ally was with Trudy and Mouch, as he was there and they are their emergency babysitters but she felt so lucky to have a partner who was willing to not have the night with his daughter for what she wants.

Seeing Adam interact with Makayla that night had made Kim’s insides twist, and she wonders if they might end up accidentally conceiving a second baby soon with how his paternalism stirred feelings inside her.

It left her feeling sadder than Kim would’ve thought to say goodbye to Makayla after everything was sorted, an emptiness in her heart. The girl had made an impact on her and it felt wrong to end the story there.

That night, Kim had hugged Ally close to her, Adam arm wrapped around her as he cuddled up to them.

“I think I want another,” Kim had said, and Adam choked. She had laughed, then, careful not to wake the sleeping baby on her chest.

“Not now or anytime soon. One baby is enough at one time. But in the future. This—us—being a family, it feels right and as perfect as our family is, I want it to be bigger.” She had explained. She’d have been nervous, but this is Adam, possibly the only person she knows whole heartedly that she can be herself, no judgement.

“Darlin’, nothing would make me happier.” He had kissed her temple firmly then, lacing their hands together and Kim got that feeling of perfect domestic bliss again.

“I’d say let’s have another right now but, yeah, one baby is enough. Although we could practice?” He then joked and Kim rolled her eyes at him.

It isn’t that long after that they’re at social services and Kim spots that precious six year old who, if Kim is honest with herself, hadn’t left her thoughts since, every few days Kim wondering if she’s okay, if she’s settling and adjusting and if the cousin Cathy would need to call her.

“Kim!” Makayla immediately runs to her, hugging her and Kim’s heart twists and constricts, warming at the gesture but breaking that she’s here.

They’re in the middle of a turbulent case, a case that plagues Kim, but her mind is still spilt, focused on worrying about Makayla.

“Where were you?” Adam asks her when she gets back from Cathy’s. Kim knows that she should’ve told him before, that going off alone like this when in a relationship and a parent isn’t how she should be behaving but as the couple’s therapist they went to say said, sometimes Kim can have tunnel vision. It’s something she’s working on, but sometimes she reverts back, like when a six year old needs her.

“I went to see Makayla’s Cathy.” Kim then tells him, and she tells him all about it.

“What if I take her in?” The words fall out Kim’s mouth before she can really process them. It’s nothing she should say, not just for the reasons Makayla’s social worker lists. But because Kim isn’t an I anymore. She’s in a relationship and she’s a mother. This isn’t just her life, but she can’t get Makayla—or the bond they have—out of her head.

After the conversation with her social worker, Kim sees Kevin. She wonders if she should ask him about this, about his siblings and that decision, knowing that he’ll have value to add to the conversation, especially as a black man. But she stops herself, knowing that she’s getting that tunnel vision again, that she needs to discuss this with Adam before she spirals too fast.

“I want to foster Makayla.” It isn’t the most tactful conversation, or the best place for it. But Kim’s mind is in overdrive and all she can think about is how she could feel at six, feeling like only Nicole loved her, and about that precious girl, and her own daughter.

“Us. I want us to foster Makayla.” Kim quickly amends, because they’re a team. Everything they do, they do together. They’re entwined and interlinked and the only way to make the relationship successful is by accepting and respecting that.

It’s a long conversation. It’s really not the time or place but that’s something that just doesn’t matter as much as talking. Kim tells Adam all about why she does, and he talks about how he feels. That he gets it, that he would want to give her a home just as much but has she thought this through.

They work out if they want it to only be temporary, how they’ll do it with Ally, if they’re ready and if they’re only doing this because they’re adapting to being parents, parents who often felt unloved as a child.

And they grab Kevin, adding him to the discussion, getting his two cents.

And then they come to a decision—that they should take Makayla home and they’re jumping into action. Kim calling the social worker, Adam arranging for Ally to be at her grandparents for the night as they get Makayla settled.

Everything picks up after that, quiet days rarely a thing even more than before.

They get Makayla into school, sets up their home so it feels more like hers, they get her into therapy and family therapy. They introduce her to Kevin, knowing he will have to play an important role in their foster daughter’s life.

Makayla adores Ally from the first time they meet, treating her with such care and love and Ally immediately bonds to her. It fills Kim with such joy and affection, and makes her heart feel so, so soft.

Kim was worried that them having Ally already would make Makayla feel like an add on, but it has the opposite affect, making her feel more like part of the family—two weeks in, Makayla tells Kim that she always wanted a little sister, and Kim’s happy that she may not have been able to save Makayla’s family, but at least she could do something.

It’s not smooth sailing. It’s tough and it’s work. Nights were hell, Makayla waking up screaming and rousing Ally, but it gets better, especially after they get Makayla trouble dolls. It’s an adjustment, for sure, but it’s fulfilling.

For Adam too, who’s taken to calling Makayla his lil darlin’ and all three of them his girls. Kim already knew he is a great dad, but seeing him dress up and play with Makayla, and being so calm and loving through her trauma just reaffirms that over and over, making Kim feel so happy that she gave them another chance.

Makayla is family long before the adoption going through.

Mack is one of the first words Ally says, reaching for her sister as she did so. Kim—and Adam, as they discussed it later—will never forget the utterly joyful grin that had spread across Makayla’s face at that.

“Ally said my name!” Makayla had exclaimed to them happily, and proceeded to tell everyone she saw over the next week, her excitement and joy never waning.

Trudy and Mouch immediately accept Makayla as another grandchild and the rest of the family treats Makayla like she belongs. Kim never had any doubts, but it warmed her heart to see how much Makayla clearly loved and was taken by it—and how it made her feel so much more settled, knowing she’s gained so much family even after loosing so much.

Sylvie takes it upon herself to be her honorary godmother and Makayla quickly learns that Sylvie is one of the best to play princesses with. Stella comes with Sylvie one day and Makayla is immediately enamoured by her, and soon Stella decides Makayla needs two godmothers.

The Atwaters are an essential part of their family, as they help Makayla keep that connection to her black culture, helping to make sure her identity doesn’t get lost and that she doesn’t feel like she has to pick sides between her old and new life.

Makayla and Uncle Kev have a day every month, just them, doing whatever they want. It’s not even about doing anything relating to their shared skin tone, but just a routine to establish that Kevin is there for her.

Jordan takes to Makayla quickly, as well, finding her cute and endearing. He tells them that she reminds him of Vinessa at that age, and quickly starts calling her his little cousin—another thing that Kim knows helps makes her feel like part of the family.

Makayla loves her ‘big cousin', Jordan often teaching her age appropriate jokes and helping her play harmless pranks. He also teaches her some dance moves, and laughs with her when she tries to teach Adam them, who fails spectacularly.

Jordan loves Ally as well, having seen Kim as part of his family for years but Kim knows that they’ll never have the bond that Jordan and Makayla have, and it’s something that makes her feel warm and fuzzy inside—that Makayla with have things that’s just hers, that she won’t ever feel like she’s in her little sister’s shadow. It’s important, Kim thinks, and she’s glad of it. Makayla is no less her daughter than Ally and deserves to never feel like she is.

Makayla is family before she is legally, before she’s adopted into a family who barely has any blood in common anyway. But the day the adoption goes through is a joyous day for all of them.

“I love you.” Makayla has said it to them before, and more to Ally. But that day she says it and it’s louder than a shy whisper but firm and sure and Kim can’t help getting teary eyed as they hug her, assuring their daughter that they love her too, so much.

“Thank you for wanting to be my mom and dad.” Makayla says that night, so earnestly and Kim tears up again, Adam too. And nothing has ever felt so right. Kim knows she’ll never replace her mom, and she doesn’t want to, and she knows that Makayla might not ever call them mom and dad but they are and Makayla sees them as that and it feels so right.

“We’ve got two daughters.” Kim giggles against Adam’s chest that night, when everyone is asleep.

“That we do. And we got to skip the baby stage so we could get our two daughters straight away,” Adam replies, referencing their conversation from the night Makayla went home with Cathy. Kim laughs again, cuddling against her fiancé—as of a week ago.

Life is unpredictable. It’s messy and chaotic and full of madness, and Kim’s learnt and accepted that. And life is wonderful and amazing, and not despite of that, but because of that.

Two years ago, Kim would not see herself like this. In bed with Adam, her fiancé, their two daughters sleeping and feeling like she’s got the most perfect life. And it’s all because life is unpredictable.

Kim used to think that perfect meant calmness. And then she thought that can’t be her life, because she’s choose a mad and crazy life, a life not designed to be calm. But as she lies in bed that night, Adam cuddling her, Kim knows that’s wrong.

Life does mean calmness, but not because her life is quiet and calm, but because it’s messy and chaotic. It’s messy and chaotic and it’s hers. She has all what she ever wanted, fulfilled in all areas, and it doesn’t matter if it’s unpredictable because that’s the beauty of it.

There’s such a peace and calmness inside of her, an ease that has been brought on only by the messy, imperfection and unplanned events of her life—and that’s what makes everything feel perfect; perfect within the chaos.

#burzek #chicago pd #kim burgess x adam ruzek #burzek fic #chicago pd fanfiction #ree writes #ree's.writing #Cíara tag

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