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writingwithcolor · 3 years

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Desexualized Mammy & Strong Black Woman, too busy for “frivolous love”

“Alyse” (Anon Submission) asked:

My science fiction story includes a black woman (Talia) who raises two children that aren’t her own and takes on two young adults as apprentices. One of the children she is raises has Arabic background and was taken into her home upon his father’s death (his mother’s whereabouts are unknown). She was a close friend of his father and the closest thing he had to a relative. The second child has mixed French-Latinx background and was taken in after becoming shipwrecked with no means by which to contact her people. Talia was the first non-hostile individual she encountered and one of the few who would so openly embrace a stranger. Since Talia is Master Medic (the highest medical authority in her community) she is training two apprentices (think residency) and eventually mentors the second child as well. She was once married and passionately in love but lost her husband to illness. In this setting, some technology we take for granted is inaccessible and violence against their people is commonplace. Most have experienced sudden loss. This particular loss was the catalyst that drove Talia into medicine- a desire to protect her loved ones and prevent others from experiencing similar tragedy. She is usually kind (though businesslike) but sometimes succumbs to a frigid, furious depression when, despite all her knowledge and determination, she can’t save someone.

I worry that her maternal association with the two children (one of whom is an outsider) mires her in the mammy trope. On top of that, she hasn’t pursued romance since the death of her husband. I’ve considered giving her a romantic subplot but there are already so many characters to keep track of. Furthermore, I just can’t see her engaging in the frivolous pursuits of new love when she’s dealing with kids, students, and an extremely taxing career.

In terms of race and culture in this story, practically every character can trace their ancestry back to populations displaced through war. Even Talia’s second child was shipwrecked during a botched evacuation from a military science lab. The people who live here have been isolated for generations and no longer have a real concept of their ancestry. Cultures have blended, new religions have formed, and many of our familiar racial/ethnic issues are forgotten. However, new and different but equally toxic ones have replaced them. In this way, Talia’s blackness doesn’t carry the same associations in her world as it would in ours. However, readers may still make these associations. Do you see any issues with her character that I could amend?

So! You have:

A highly educated Black-coded woman (the highest medical authority in the community)

She raises two kids alone

She also looks after two apprentices

She is widowed (not sure the race of the husband, was he Black?)

Having experienced heartbreaking love, Talia's drive to look after, protect and save people through medicine is a great motivation for the way she is. Her experiencing depression and taking losses seriously is also very human and is dynamic characterization.

However, such characterization with Black women is prone to brush across several tropes. You have a Black woman who gives and protects, but what does she get in return? Who cares for her?

Prioritize your Black character’s happiness

"I’ve considered giving her a romantic subplot but there are already so many characters to keep track of. Furthermore, I just can’t see her engaging in the frivolous pursuits of new love when she’s dealing with kids, students, and an extremely taxing career."

Priorities, priorities. Is love a frivolous pursuit in her eyes, or yours? Because I strongly disagree. You probably don't mean to but you, as the author, having an excuse to NOT give the Black woman romance is showing that you do not think she's worth being loved. TV viewers and stans who are uncomfortable when Black women characters have relationships find similar excuses to explain away not wanting BW in relationships.

"She's too strong and independent for a man/relationship"

"I liked her better alone."

"It'll take away from her character."

“A romance doesn’t feel right for her”

These sorts of statements above are grounded in racialized misogyny.

Relationships do not lessen the woman.

Relationships does not lessen Black women.

Love

Whether that love is romantic, familial, or friendship, it can come in many forms. Give Talia love. Because Black women characters deserve it! Either one or all!

Let her have a loyal best friend, a cat, and a girlfriend. Because why not? And not to downplay the love of children to parents, but please provide her love beyond what she gets on a maternal level from the children she looks after.

The stories that Black women are in today severely lack love for us, so why add to the narrative of Black women being all work and no play, and too [insert excuse here] to be loved?

Of course, you didn't provide all the details from your story, but I'm not seeing much of a balance from the struggle. She is a caretaker, teacher, doctor (or doctor-like figure).

Her position and background in itself is okay. It's the Strong Black Woman being presented with seemingly no commentary that strikes me.

Where is her team to help balance the weight of the world?

Who takes care of her when she's depressed from another loss?

What does she get in return from taking an emotional and physical toll to heal her community?

Do those around her recognize all she does for them and offer their friendship?

When does she get to relax and turn off the need to be everything for everybody?

Fitting love into a book with many characters

There are many books with several characters to keep track of. People tend to manage. Also, I'm sure some of those characters are in and/or out of relationships. Even stories that couldn’t be classified as romances have relationships of some sort. It’s unrealistic to have a ton of characters and none of them be in relationship(s) of some sort. Not when there’s so many forms of it and many sexualities.

Friends, frenemies, enemies, romance, affairs.. Relationships make stories (and life) interesting. By no means do I think adding these dynamics harm your tale. And what’s one more for a hard-working Black woman who sacrifices a lot and clearly deserves a shoulder to lean on? And, if you use an existing character to be that friend, family, or lover, then you won’t need to pencil in another character.

For romance specifically - I think a misconception when it comes to including romance in stories is that they have to somehow take over the story. Romance does not have to bombard the plot nor be described in lavish detail. Not every story is a romance and those sort of details aren’t everyone’s style or things they’re comfortable with. A sentence or two establishing relationships does not take away from the story.And how those relationships look and affections expressed will vary based on the characters, sexuality, etc.

Not every character needs to have a deep level of detail.

“Katie and Lisa, a newly engaged couple, walked into the meeting.”

“Jack and Jamie are a married couple in their 40s.”

“The two met in college. After two months of blissful courtship, they eloped, eager to start their happily ever afters. Twenty years together, they were still blissfully in love and never too far from one another.”

Sentences like the above are enough for some characters. You don’t always need to put in paragraphs worth of relationship-establishing details or plot.

When it comes to the characters whose love you would like to highlight, at least a bit, you still don’t have to go over the top.

Use subtle details.

“As soon as Talia’s back was turned, he gave her a longing look before shaking his head and getting back to the patient.”

“He squeezed her hand before taking hold of the stethoscope.”

“She kissed her wife goodbye before racing out the door.”

“You mean the world to me.” he had said, holding her face. Those words stayed with her all day, making her heavy load light as a sack of feathers.

“She soaked his shirt with her tears and he just held her tight, saying nothing, silently holding her together.”

As for Talia specifically…

Talia having the mindset you described, as love being frivolous and not a priority, is understandable knowing her background (I just don't agree with you as the creator using this as a means to keep her alone. Whether she’s romantically alone or without close friendships). She has lost so much, and continues to experience loss with patients. This can be extremely traumatizing. I gave some examples of being subtle, so perhaps that will help with the burden of feeling a thick subplot of romance doesn’t fit in your story.

And as Talia doesn’t strike me as someone who would go looking for companionship, what if she stumbles upon it without trying? Is there someone on the medical team that can offer her friendship? Someone who admires her and feels the urge to care for her that she feels the same for, or has pushed feelings down for? What happens when she can’t hold those feelings down anymore?

Takeaway

Talia deserves healthy love, even if she doesn’t believe it or feel she has time for it. That love can come in any and many forms, not necessarily romantically required, although it is a plus. A struggle-ridden novel is balanced by love, support and rest for characters that hold the weight of the world. If you do not, evaluate why you want to write Black characters in these struggle roles without at least a social commentary.

~Mod Colette

#Black women #Strong Black Woman #Mammy #relationships #romance #asks

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saturnsummer · 3 years

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worthy.

When Sol gets a GPA of 2.02, the study group (and Joon Hwi) comes together to cheer her up.

notes: another prompt by @thenerdywriter ! i wasn't sure if you meant it like this, but i hope you are satisfied! thank you for your prompt and your trust! i do apologise for the wait!

not much fluff or cliche romantic scenes, but just simple things that i hope when you read, remember your worth and never be defeated. you are worthy, loved and deserving to be appreciated. :) inbox always open!

for anyone who have sent prompts and asks, i thank you for your ideas! i have read through all your asks and am so excited to begin writing, but please understand if i can’t reply you as fast as i hoped! so sorry for this, i’ll try to address my inbox faster!! any mistakes or incorrect information will be taken responsible by me. enjoy!

edit: everyone, please don’t cry on this omg I’ve made 5 people comment their tears now and im terribly sorry for the tears.. I meant for this to be a light hearted story but looks like everyone is crying,, I’ll try not to make people cry now..

original prompt: where joon hwi and the rest of the gang shake some sense into her (sol a) about her self-esteem.

words: 2787 words

Sol is downstairs at the lounge, holding a clear bottle of soju. She takes another swig from the plastic bottle, hoping that the alcohol can numb her heart like it does to her head. It burns, and she’s turning woozy, but she grumbles and takes another swig.

2.02. She’s passed, at least. But she can’t help but feel upset. She wasn’t upset that she couldn’t score as well as Yeseul or BokGi, but upset that she’s satisfied with these low results. No one is going to hire her, even less offer an internship while looking at her track records.

Sol worked her ass off for this exam. She nearly died, if it wasn’t for Yeseul’s reminders to eat. Even her cold stoned face roommate bothered to place bottles of water on her desk. Yet, after all this...

“Why are you still up?” She hears Joon Hwi ask as he takes a seat next to her. She stays silent with a grim expression and turns away. Joon Hwi was the last person she wanted to see, especially when she’s in such a bad mod.

“What’s wrong?” He asks as he catches her arm just as she’s about to chug her soju.

“Everything.” She slurs. “You know I’m not even upset with my GPA? I’m upset of being happy with my shitty grades.” Joon Hwi sighs, attempting to grab her bottle away.

“I should have never came to study. I should have never tried to prove myself to be Dan!” She scolds louder. Sol knows she’s drunk in front of her best friend, but she can’t control herself. She doesn’t care.

“Kang Sol...” Joon Hwi stands up, grabbing her bottle away from her. “You’re drunk. Go back.”

“I don’t belong here, anyway.” Her slurs catch Joon Hwi in his steps.

“I never once belonged with any of you. Being with all of you just drags you all further. I should just stop burdening you all with my questions and rot in a corner. Besides, no one would care.” She softly says, her voice filled with regret and guilt.

Sol has always felt this way. Ever since she was young, Dan was always the star child. She got top grades while Sol got through in the middle rankings. Dan was always more popular, prettier, smarter. Sol learnt at a young age that no matter what, she would always be overshadowed by Dan.

Thus, she learnt to be quiet. Only ask questions when she really needs to. Stick to familiar people. Only be loud when told to, and blend in in every situation. She learnt to depreciate herself, because no one appreciated her in the first place.

Joon Hwi wants to shake her. He wants to write an entire dissertation on why Sol belongs to Hankuk. He wants to show her what he sees: a smart, caring, passionate lawyer-to-be. He wants to show her what he sees when she testified for Professor Yang in court. A confident, woman knowing her morals and rights.

“Kang Sol.” Joon Hwi says, pulling her up by her wrist. Sol pushes him away, but her touches are sloppy and weak. Sighing, Joon Hwi knows that it is useless to argue about her grades and her worth when she’s not even half conscious of what she’s doing.

He grabs her coat lying on the couch, finding her phone and plans on calling Yeseul. But it’s past 1am, but he doesn’t want to trouble Yeseul. Sighing, he contemplates calling her roomie but reality smacks when he realises she’s home. Noticing how Sol is slowly nodding off, giving in to the fatigue, it leaves Joon Hwi not much of an option to carry her back.

Fishing the room key out from her coat, he takes special care in carrying her, sweeping his arm under her knee and lifting her slowly as to not disrupt her from falling asleep. The key card is in between his fingers as he slowly and quietly makes his way up to her dorm. He thanks the deities above that no one caught him or interrupted him.

Tapping the key card, a standard ‘beep’, he pushes the door with his back, and takes care to get him and her into the dark room. He can barely see anything, especially since he has no hands to on the lights, but he makes out his way in the small room using the moonlight and what he can tell.

Joon Hwi knows which side Sol sleeps, knowing from her stories that include her rolling from the bed up to the desk. By now, Sol was sleeping soundly, a slight snore escaping her. Gently, he sets her down on her bed and reaches to take her shoes off for her. Hanging up her coat that he placed on top of her whilst he was carrying her, he finally pulled the thick blanket over her.

But he didn’t leave just yet.

“I never once belonged with any of you.”

Sol’s words echoed in his head more than he thought it would. He stopped and bent down silently by her bed side, taking a few moments to wonder to himself just how and why does she feel so unworthy.

He grabs her bottle of water from her bag, before putting it next to her phone, which is on the table. Knelt on the floor, he observes the slow rise of her chest and the way her eyes flutter and nose twitch when Sol sleeps. Just how can someone like Sol think she’s any less than what he sees?

“You belong here in Hankuk. I’ll show you just why.” His whisper barely audible, as he brushes away a stray hair on her face. With that, he takes his leave and sneaks back to his dorm. (Without getting caught)

-----

The next day, after two painkillers and a big bowl of hangover soup (left mysteriously by someone at their pantry), Sol is headed to study group. She is running a few minutes early than their scheduled timing, but she’s surprised to find the group huddled in hushed whispers.

“What are you all looking at?” Sol asks, as she sets her book at her usual corner opposite Joon Hwi. BokGi lets out a startled yelp and Yebeom clamps his mouth shut. Sol isn’t surprised to see Jiho crowded there, but is even more shocked to see Sol B crowded with them too. If it was anything, Sol B wouldn’t crowd around and discuss things, unless it concerned herself, or benefitted her grades.

“What...” Sol leans over and raises her eyebrows. Yeseul’s eyes dart nervously and she breaks into a smile. The rest of the group just shuffles back to their seats murmuring under their breath.

“Nothing, unnie! They were just discussing on what to order for lunch.” Yeseul says as she walks over to Sol and takes her bag and books from her, before setting it on the table. “Unnie, shall we get coffees?” Yeseul escorts her out of the room before Sol could react. Sol assumes that it’s due to her hangover that Yeseul is suggesting coffee, thus just following and getting a cold brew and assorted drinks for the others.

When she returns, they distribute the drinks and start discussing on what to study.

“Noona, do you have anything?” BokGi asks, a little too enthusiastically. Sol is taken aback and lost for words. She usually just follows whatever the rest want, since answering her questions will take hours. Joon Hwi gives a sympathetic smile.

“How about you share with us about a recent case? Remember the one that Professor Kim liked in particular?” Joon Hwi suggests. Sol grows quiet. Her? The worst student? Sol let’s out an uncertain laugh.

“Ah, me? I rather my roomie shares. She did better than me.” Sol says, then prepares a fresh document for note taking on her laptop.

“I didn’t do well.” Sol B says quietly, her eyes emotionless as usual, leaning back into the chair. “You did the best. Go on.” Sol is stunned and just nods uncertainly. Taking out her case notes and her reports that she submitted, she nervously discusses the topic on hand. She sneaks Joon Hwi a couple of questioning stares but he only pretends to not catch her eyes.

Everyone is enthusiastic, asking questions and when Sol is stumped, they jump in to help her. They suggest ideas and Sol has never felt so energised by their energy before. She find it fishy how Joon Hwi just sits back and she can feel him smiling whenever she makes a point right or figures out a missing link.

An hour later, when they are done expanding on Sol’s case and discussing, they break for a late lunch together. Yebeom enters the room with bags of food, as usual over ordering. As they pass out containers of jjampong and jjajamyeon, Sol’s eyes light up when she saw the only thing that mattered in the whole order: her beloved pickles, in doubled servings.

What Sol doesn’t expect is for JiHo to dump his packet of pickles on her container of noodles.

“JiHo-ah, why...” Sol is dumbfounded for a moment as JiHo opens his pack of noodles to stir. JiHo only pushes up his glasses.

“You can have them, noona.” Sol is even more dumbfounded. This was the first time JiHo has called her noona. She didn’t care for the honourifics, and JiHo could call her by her full name for all she cared. But hearing those words from Seo JiHo’s mouth, just made her think everyone was utterly suspicious today.

“Okay, everyone is being weird. What is this?” Sol announces, hoping her tone came out fun, with no hints of anger.

“Nothing! We just know you’ve been feeling stressed, so JiHo decided to give you his share of pickles, right?” BokGi quips up, as he dives into taking the sauce to pour over the tangsuyuk, before Yebeom and him argue over pouring or dipping.

Sol, still feeling suspicious, breaks her chopsticks just as Joon Hwi picks up a pickle from her plastic saucer to put on her noodles. Her eyes dart from his chopstick to his face, but he just nods at her pickles, expressions hard to read.

Sol crunches on her pickles, but it does nothing to soothe the feeling that everyone was aware of something, but her.

-----

The rest of the week was a puzzle piece that Sol could not fix together.

She woke up everyday to a new message by Joon Hwi, sometimes sending her funny videos, or a simple “let’s get through this together”. She woke up once to her roomie handing her breakfast and coffee. It just didn’t click in Sol’s head to see the cold Sol B hand her a sandwich and coffee.

Their group chat was undoubtedly noisy, but even more so now. Something in common was how the more chatty ones would ask Sol for advice or chat and strike noisy conversations. She was used to the chaos, but she definitely didn’t feel used to having the attention on her.

As the group had earned different internships from small and large firms, Sol was going to be left in school alone, still applying and hoping for one to come her way. Her study group knew about it, and instead continued to encourage her about it. They avoided talk on their internships, and actively tried to help Sol. While Sol was grateful, she couldn’t help but wish that they would just act normal and not worry about her.

She chose to meet them for breakfast on the day of their internships. The meal was noisy as usual as they ate their sandwiches and gimbaps. They were dressed smartly in their suits with their briefcases. Sol made a fuss over everyone looking smart on their first day.

“Hurry up and eat, you’re going to be late for your internship!” Sol scolded BokGi as he and Yebeom threw comments back and forth. Everyone was off for theirs and ready with their jackets and bags. Walking with them to the door, she couldn’t help but feel like a mom to her kids, sending them to school.

“Noona! Check your table later in the libra-” Yebeom gleefully mused before BokGi clamped his mouth shut and JiHo (with much irritation) smacked his head silently.

“What?” Sol asks, turning to Joon Hwi, who was turning redder by the second. Joon Hwi closes his eyes, the same way he does when he’s embarrassed and looks away from her.

“Listen to Yebeom and check the table.” He says, finally looking at her. “We’ll see you for dinner then.” Waving a quick goodbye, the group walked away from her towards the carpark where they separated to the bus stops or in the direction of the train station.

“O-Okay…” she mutters, still confused as she carries her books and bag to her usual table at the library. She would have went to sulk at Professor Kim’s office for a while, but she instead chose to head straight to study. Professor Kim had enough on her plate and she wasn’t ready just yet to face Professor Kim with her mood.

There, at her table, lies her stack of books.

Normal, nothing out of the ordinary. Huffing out, she slumps her bag on her table, gathering the post its on the bar above the table. Most of them were just plain comments, like how she had to stop slamming her pen into her hand (it distracted students) or move out of the library cause there aren't enough seats. Opening her book on civil code, she was ready to start drilling her head before meeting Professor Kim.

Then she spots an envelope, hidden between the pages of the book.

Carefully, she picks it out and looks on the cream white paper, the only ink on it her name, written in neat handwriting. She could recognise Joon Hwi’s handwriting anywhere. A slight scoff escapes her lips and several students turn in annoyance. Realising that this was probably not the best place to be in, she grabs her books and bags (and the post its) and leaves the library. She heads to the empty study room, where she knows she’s be comfortable at.

Opening the flap, she slips out numerous slips of paper, varying degrees of length and sizes. Some words were neat, some were a little messy.

-----

To: Unnie <3

Sol-unnie, you know you’re smart, right? Your grades may not show that you are the best, but I know you are! Whenever I hear you discuss a case with the study group, I know you’re trying your best to memorise and improve. Don’t give up, unnie! I will support you till the end!

- Yeseul

To: Sol-A noona

Yah, noona! You have to stop injuring yourself, okay? You gave us a really big scare the last time when you started nose bleeding in the midst of study group. Noona, don’t look at your grades anymore! If a man like me can get through law school so far pretty well, you can too! Fighting, noona!

Noona~ you’re really talented. The fact that you scored so well during the criminal law test and managed to spot the comma just shows for amazing you are! Noona, don’t be discouraged... seeing you discouraged makes us sad too. Your favourite dongsaeng is here to help you!

- BokGi and Yebeom

To: Kang Sol-A

You can do it. Review your cases before classes. Get your internship.

-JiHo

To: Sol-A

Live up to your name, will you? And sleep on a regular schedule.

- Roommate

To: Sol

Sunbae, remember me? Stop doubting yourself and trust yourself. You’re smarter than you know and fit for court. I will support you from wherever you are. I’m grateful for you, for supporting me all this time. I think Dan would be proud of you, and so will the cookie Byeol.

Sol, you are worthy in my eyes. So stop undermining yourself. You belong in Hankuk next to me. You can’t give up now.

-Joon Hwi

-----

Sol lets a smile creep on her face as she lets a small blush rise to her face. Holding her letters to her heart, she closes her eyes, reminding herself of the past week and her friend’s efforts to cheer her on. She knew no doubt it had to be Joon Hwi who convinced everyone there to write for her despite their busy schedule. For even Sol B to help out and bother about her, it warmed her heart to have her support.

Picking her book, she pinned her hair up as she started drill into her book with a new found confidence, fuelled by her friends supporting her. But most importantly, she felt worthy. She felt loved. She felt confident. She was hopeful.

(Everyone thinks she’s worthy in their eyes, but one just thinks she’s perfect.)

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darnedchild · 4 years

Text

Let’s Talk About Funko Pop Molly Hooper #3

“But wait, DC, what happened to Molly #2?” you probably aren’t asking yourself. She’s coming, but she’s a S4 Set!Lock Molly and I thought I’d continue off of my last Funko Pop Mod post with my second Lab Coat Molly (or Molly 3.0 as I call her in the privacy of my own home where there is absolutely no one listening).

Quick reminder of the two tips I shared last time:

Tip #1 - Soak the figure in hot water for awhile to let the plastic and glue soften. If you are luckily, the Pop will come apart easily. If you aren’t (as I haven’t been in most cases), you may have to result to several soaks, brute force, and/or a sharp blade. Hot water will also help you reshape some (but not all) delicate bits if they’ve gone a bit wonky.

Tip #2 - Compare your Pops before you begin to remove anything. Some heads/limbs can be virtually interchangeable, some require a lot of finessing to properly fit together. Measure twice, cut once.

On to Molly 3.0.

For my second go round with a Lab Coat Molly Hooper, I wanted to switch things up a bit. I decided to give her glasses since she is wearing them in her ID badge photo, even though she never wears them on screen.

This time I started with the Cosima Niehaus Pop from the Orphan Black line and Felicity Smoak from Arrow.

Unfortunately, they’re older pops and a bit harder to find now, which can be cost prohibitive.

Let me take this moment to mention that this is why I don’t sell my mods. Materials alone can range anywhere from $30 to $120 for each Molly, and that’s not counting my labor costs. No one wants to pay $150 for a single Pop made by a non-professional, and I can’t afford to charge less than that. Which is why I’m making these how-to-posts so you can make your own.

In this instance, I wanted to keep Felicity’s body for another Molly Project, so I had to be very careful with removing her head. This is also where I discovered that Funko heads and neck posts are not universally sized. Roughly put, Felicity’s neck hole is larger than Cosima’s neck post. I had to get creative with some super glue to make it work. I did not have access to sculpting putty at this point; I would highly recommend investing in some if you’re going to mod Pops.

Once I managed to get the head and body together and stable, I had to do a full body repaint.

You may end up with pretty obvious brush strokes. See Molly’s hair above. It’s my curse. Probably because I don’t actually know what I’m doing here and I’m just making it up as I go along.

Tip #3 - If my paint is too thick or drying too fast, I’ll mix a tiny bit of slow-dri fluid retarder or blending medium into it. Tiny amount. Tiny. You can always add more if you need to. Honestly, I’m pretty sure I’m using it wrong, but the slow-dri gives me more time to smooth out ripples and brush strokes and it’s not that expensive at the craft store.

The one place I absolutely hate seeing brush strokes is on the face. If I can’t get the paint smooth, I go in with one of those cheap eye shadow sponge wand things that no one uses anymore and lightly bounce the sponge across the “skin”. For some reason, I’m happier with a little speckle texture on the face than with brush strokes.

After the paint is dry, I always finish with a varnish. Above shows the difference between just the matte acrylic paint and a partial coat of matte varnish. (Her hair looks like a lighter brown in that picture because of the lighting, it’s really the same “Nutmeg Brown” as all the other pictures.)

A few fun details on this Molly: I painted Cosima’s book to resemble a clipboard full of paperwork. I used an ultra fine point Sharpie to add “writing” to the paperwork and to Molly’s ID tag. I painted shoelaces onto the shoes. Cosima’s shoes are booties, but I wanted Molly in something more in character; so I painted the upper edge of the booties a shade off from her khaki paints to make it look like a rolled cuff. The most iconic and recognizable piece of Molly’s wardrobe (other than a lab coat or the black party dress) is the cherry jumper, so I added some red dots to her white shirt. Molly’s ID photo is much too small a scale for my shaky hands to manage in detail; so I simply used some blue, brown, and beige blobs (with a little Sharpie) to give the vague idea of her ID.

Assuming no one tells me to stop writing about my mods, I’ll be back to talk about Set!Lock Molly as well as Matt the Radar Technician, Mary Watson, and the rest of the Sherlock gang that I’m hoping to tackle in the future.

Feel free to poke me if you’ve got any questions.

Sorry for the length of this post. If you follow me, you already know I ramble.

Toodles.

#molly hooper #funkopop #funko pop molly hooper #arts and crafts from a deranged mind #funkopop mods #my funko mods

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appreciate-kaimaki · 6 years

Note

Since Maki have a lot of scars (she's a freaking assassin after all), Kaito likes to kiss them and sometimes compare them to constellations of stars (sorry for my Bad english;;;)

Ngh… this… this is just so cute! Dammit, Kaito, you big sappy romantic…

I was originally going to make this a headcanon, but the writer gods intervened and made this into a fully fledged fic with lots of kissing and fluff! I hope you enjoy this, anon, because I sure did.

The fic is under the cut!

~Mod Shuichi~

It’s not like Maki hated being intimate with Kaito - while she would never admit it out loud, their cuddle-slash-makeout sessions were easily her favorite part of the day. His exuberant warmth always seemed to fill her very heart and soul with comfort, melting away her hardened exterior until only the goodness inside her remained. Yet, as they sat in each other’s arms on his bed in one such session, she couldn’t help but freeze as his warm hands slid into her waist and brushed across her back. There was a good reason she had yet to take her top off in front of Kaito despite him being topless before her many times, one which brought back painful memories, yet he was dangerously close to discovering it by himself.

Maki used to be, until very recently, a very… efficient assassin. Slip in, kill target, slip out. She never made detours to eliminate witnesses, because no one ever saw her. She had no injuries to patch up, because she always killed with the first strike. That, however, wasn’t always the case. There was a time Maki was inexperienced and untrained in combat. That period was most definitely short - her handlers wouldn’t have it any other way - but it still left a fair share of scars on her in both mind… and body.

A bullet mark that went through her left flank, from a firefight with a dozen police officers with just a single emergency pistol. One round versus hundreds. Long, jagged lines running across her collarbone and chest, from when she’d failed to kill a target with her first hit and he retaliated with a kitchen knife. Burns scattered across her back from when she was captured and tortured by some foreign agents for killing their boss. And much, much more - some were even from her own handlers, as punishment for each time she screwed up. Her legacy of murder, left as permanent disfiguring marks on her body.

Her boyfriend’s fingers found one such mark, following the long, rough line running along her spine. Kaito looked up when he noticed his girlfriend stiffening under his touch. His expression immediately shifted into one of genuine concern.

“Hey, Maki Roll, you okay? Maki Roll?”

Maki remained frozen, unable to respond. While Kaito did know that she had a history as an assassin, she had never showed him her scars. For good reason, too - even if he accepted her past as a murderer, who would want to date a girl with hideous scars all over her body when there were better girls, ones who never had to kill for a living, ones with beautiful unblemished skin from head to toe? Her fears, visions of Kaito leaving her, denouncing her as ugly and scarred, came crashing down on her all at once, ringing in her ears like too many gunshots blending together -

“Maki!”

The sound of her name jolted her back to reality, and she desperately pulled away from his grasp, pulling down her shirt over her back as her breath spiraled out of control.

“I, I have to go now.”

Kaito looked back at her with sadness and worry filling his eyes.

“Maki Roll, don’t go.”

He reached out and tentatively held onto her fingertips, as if she was a lifeline that would explode if held too tightly.

“Tell me what’s bothering you. Let me help you. Please.”

His touch seemed to drain the panic out of her through the small area of contact, and she could think logically for a moment. Leaving would simply delay the inevitable. Sooner or later they would end up in the same situation again, and he would figure it out by himself anyway. Better to tell him in her own terms while she still could. Hesitatingly, Maki admitted, “I’ve been hiding some things about me to you. A lot of things. I’m sorry.”

Maki allowed her boyfriend to draw her in again, sitting in his lap as she tried her best to calm her raging senses. Kaito slowly lifted her shirt up, exposing her trembling back riddled with too many scars than Maki wanted him to know about. His warm fingers traced each line, lingered in each bullet mark, as he gently ran his hands over her back and massaged her tense muscles, and despite the situation Maki found herself calming down. Kaito always had a way of doing that to her.

“I’m sorry my skin isn’t as fair as the other girls,” Maki blurted out. “If you hate me for this I can understand. You don’t have to put up with an ugly girl like me…”

“Maki Roll.”

Kaito wrapped her from behind in a heartfelt embrace as he nuzzled into her neck, the tip of his pointy purple goatee ever-so-slightly brushing a thin line over her collarbone. Maki let her eyes flutter closed as she leaned back into her boyfriend. The way he said her nickname was so tender, so loving, that it sent pleasant shivers up her spine as his breath played on her skin. Tenderly kissing the side of Maki’s neck, Kaito undid his hold on her to slowly move down her back. He took his time with her, planting kisses on every scar, every injury and blemish, kisses so soft and warm that Maki almost felt the scars melting away and leaving her clean as could be.

“You’re beautiful. All of this, all of you, is so much more beautiful than I ever thought you could be. And you, Harukawa Maki, are the only girl for me until the end of spacetime.”

“I’m not… the scars…” she stammered.

“They’re all beautiful, every single one. Like the shining stars in the sky. Maki Roll, if you think I’ll leave you over something like this you’re dead wrong.”

He left trails of kisses on them all, bestowing heavenly names to each and every mark on her back.

“Proxima Centauri.” Kiss. “Cassiopeia.” Kiss. “Andromeda.” Kiss. “Vega.” Kiss. “Aquarius.” Kiss. “Deneb.” Kiss. “Ursa Minor.” Kiss. “Virgo.” Kiss.

Finally Maki turned around to face her love, twisting in his lap to wrap her arms around him and drink in that wonderful scent of his. Kaito merely smiled that bright smile that always gave her butterflies in her stomach and kept right on, along her collarbone, above her chestline, and dipping down once or twice to plant even more kisses on her navel and abdomen.

“God, you’re so perfect. Like starlight made into a person. So divine, so heavenly.”

Lost in the sheer amount of love Kaito was giving her, Maki found his lips with her own and kissed him with all the strength she could muster, her feelings of relief that her Kaito would never leave her behind intensifying her hold on him. Her starry-minded boyfriend reciprocated in kind, and the two remained locked in their loving embrace for the longest time. As they finally separated to gaze into each other’s eyes, Kaito lifted a hand to gently caress Maki’s cheek.

“Maki Roll, you’ll always be my universe. Forever and always. Because I love you, with every atom of my being.”

Maki could only blush as she pressed her face into the crook of his neck once again.

“I love you, too.”

#mod shuichi #fanfic #kaimaki #momota kaito #harukawa maki #scars #kissing #fluff #danganronpa #new danganronpa v3 #ndrv3

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