#He clearly did not make amends with this girl and boi he should have...
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theirloveisgross · 7 months ago
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mylifeisjustafeverdream · 11 months ago
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The Driftmark Incident
Lately the discourse around what happened between Jace, Luke, Baela, Rhaena, and Aemond at Driftmark has gotten out of hand. Both sides are pointing fingers left and right and are so quick to blame the other for the situation. But it just shows how severe the unnecessary debates have gotten. No one on either sides is willingly to show any compassion or nuance towards the situation. So let me make the following points clear:
Rhaena and Baela were grieving little girls that didn't understand how dragon bonds work.
Aemond had every right to bond with Vaghar.
Jace brought a blade because he was a little boy who thought he was going to face off against an unknown theif.
Aemond and Rhaena instigated the fight. Aemond was disrespectful of the loss the girls were going through. Rhaena was accusatory and defensive. Aemond should not have insulted her unprompted. Rhaena should not have tried to shoved him. Aemond should not have thrown Rhaena into the wall.
Baela escalated the fight by punching Aemond, and while it is understandable why she did so she should not have.
Aemond punching her back, while also understandable, was wrong. However, he escalated the situation by threatening Baela.
Jace and Luke were not apart of the argument, nor were they lining up for their turn in the fight. They even waited after Baela was punched. It wasn't until Aemond explicitly threatened to kill Baela that Jace got involved.
Aemond was clearly stronger and more skilled than his cousins and had the upper hand during that fight. It was not an ambush on an unskilled victim.
Luke did not get involved until Jace was on the ground. Luke should not have come at Aemond. Aemond should not have grabbed him and punched the 7 year old in the face.
It was wrong of Jace, Baela, and Rhaena to gang up on Aemond. That was an unfair fight, but it was a response to Aemond causing each of them physical harm.
Luke should not have tried to come at Aemond after he knocked over the other 3.
Aemond grabbing Luke to stop his attack should have been where that fight ended. Aemond once again escalated the situation by grabbing a rock and threatening to kill Luke. He also was baiting Luke and Jace by calling them bastards.
Jace should NOT have pulled his knife.
Aemond should NOT have struck him with the rock.
It is understandable that the children believed he was actually going to kill Jace. He had threatened to do so. He was holding the rock in the air like he was going to. He took pleasure in seeing how they were frightened in that situation *please watch the scene and take note of how he looks to observe the girl's reaction to him*.
Luke was a 7 year old who had just been attacked, threatened, and watched his brother and cousins experience the same. He was scared and irrational. That does NOT justify taking out Aemond's eye.
The adults severely mishandled the aftermath of the incident.
Alicent was justified in her anger over the injury to her son.
There was nothing Luke or Rhaenyra could have said or done in amends that Alicent would have accepted.
There was absolutely zero accountability from either side in what happened.
No one was in the right during the Driftmark incident.
There was no justification for anything that happened that evening. It was one escalation after another. The purpose of the situation was not to show how evil one side was or who the "bad guys" are. This was an incident involving literal CHILDREN. The youngest was only 7 years old and the oldest no more than 12. They were children who should have never been in the situations they were in. That's the entire point. The animosity and infighting of the adults around them had spread like a disease and now infected the children. Every adult could have prevented it from happening but they failed their kids.
Alicent should have never have told her kids about her doubts about the Velaryon Boy's legitimacy. She should not have been so blatantly hateful towards Rhaenyra and her family, and allowed those attitudes to grow. She should not have been poisoning her kids with the notion Rhaenyra was planning to kill them. She should have known where her kids were that night.
Rhaenyra should have addressed the accusations about her sons LONG before she did. She should have dispelled the rumors before they were old enough to know about them. She also should have removed her kids from that environment much sooner so they did not develop the complex they did. She should have known where her kids were that night.
Daemon should have spent less time trying to bang his niece and more time paying attention to his grieving daughters. He should have been helping them work through their loss. He should have known where his kids were that night.
Laenor should not have been so absent in his role as the boy's father. He, like Rhaenyra, should have put a stop to the rumors long before. He should have known where his kids were that night.
Viserys, as the KING, should have put a stop to Alicent's behavior. He should have addressed the rumors well before he did. He should have payed enough attention to his wife and kids to recognize the increasingly dangerous animosity in his house. He should have known where his kids were that night.
If a single adult had been mindful of the kids it wouldn't have happened.
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lithiumfae · 2 years ago
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Scarred And Half A Man, Chapter 2: Amends That Feel Like a Sentence.
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word count: 4,7k
cw:smut, masturbation.
also forgot to mention but reader is a ravenclaw lol
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The first night he joined her class he did not notice anything different in her demeanor.
She told the students Quirrell was not going to be joining her lessons again, and that Snape was to replace him. He expected the students to voice their discontent with the change and naturally he got the reactions he anticipated. They all groaned in unison, some with expressions more pained than others.
“Nothing will change, don’t fret. It is only a precaution in case an instance like the one in the girl’s bathroom were to happen again,” she walked to where the three Gryffindors were seated on the floor. “So you,” she crouched in front of them and gave them a smile. “Don’t have to play heroes again.”
“Father said it was a foolish thing to do,” said the blonde Slytherin.
“It was brave nonetheless, mister Malfoy,” she stood up and looked at where Severus was standing with his hands clasped behind his back. “Professor Snape will be here so everything stays calm in case something were to happen.”
“Father said Professor Snape is a great duelist! Why are we not learning spells so we can fight too!” Draco complained.
She started walking towards him. “I’m afraid that is education that goes far beyond my expertise,” The boy pouted. “But we can look at the stars, is that not so appealing, mister Malfoy?” It was clearly intended to be a joke and despite Draco’s usual demeanor he subtly smiled. “Yes? And like I said, Professor Snape is fully capable of defeating a troll, or a giant, or a dragon, perhaps even a werewolf,” the kids were now giggling, taking joy in her blatant teasing. “So strong that he is, your professor.”
Okay, so maybe their fight did not mean much to her if she was now complimenting him and calling him strong. If she had been mad it would have made this whole ordeal a lot more awkward than it needed to be. It seemed like it was a lucky day for him.
But years of dealing with liars and manipulators should have warned him about the possibility of her jokes just being a way to lift up the mood of the disappointed students, after all, he imagines having him present in the class that was supposed to be the most relaxing one could make any first-year feel anxious. The class went by incredibly fast, he did not even feel the need to sneak a little nap in between like he had thought of doing before walking up to the astronomy tower. He was so awake and paying such intense attention to her that he noticed whenever Harry Potter would look back to where he was standing against the wall. The kid was sitting right in front of her, Severus thinks the boy might have thought he was staring at him.
He truly did have his mother’s eyes like Dumbledore had mentioned. He chose to ignore the resemblance because even though his eyes were just like Lily’s, the rest of his appearance resembled James’. Instead he did what he knew how to do best, ignore the big thing that was plaguing his mind and he chose to torture himself with a smaller issue.
This being the way her eyes avoided his.
Prior to their argument, whenever they were in the same room she would always try to look him in the eye. Without lying, this spooked him. Because she did it even when they were not talking to each other, she would be having a conversation with Sprout but looking at him all the way across the room. She reminded him of an owl, with the big intimidating eyes. Not intimidating because they were threatening, but because they looked full of wonder, almost as if she was waiting to ask you a question you did not wish to answer.
She made a point to acknowledge his presence.
Now this was not the case.
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After class ended and prefects had taken the students back to their dormitories and they were left alone. Immediately she went to put all her books and her other supplies back into her leather knapsack. Her head was down and her hair was covering half her face. Severus waited for her at the entrance so they could walk down together, his day would end when they were all in their respective chambers.
She was taking her sweet time while also managing to look tense at the same time so he walked a little closer to her desk.
He cleared his throat before speaking. “You see, all went well,” she cleared her throat back, making him think she was about to reply but no words left her mouth so he chose to talk again. “My help was not need–“
“You called me a whore,” she interrupted him.
He was left gagging. “I did not use such a word.”
“You might as well have. For you to imply I enjoy spending time alone in Professor Quirrell’s office it can only mean you think of me in that way,” when she looked up at him her eyes were filled with unshed tears once again, reminiscing of their last interaction.
“And for that I apologize, it was never my intention.”
“Your words sound rehearsed and not sincere at all,” she said in a tearful voice.
Severus furrowed his eyebrows, she was not being reasonable at all. It was very often he said hurtful things to people yet they rarely cried, twice at that. “I truly am sorry, Professor. I got carried away,” he paused for a second. “But I must say I doubt it was the first time a man talked to you like that, so sorry again if what I said hurt you. It was remarkably unprofessional on my part.”
“What do you mean by that?” She asked.
“I’m trying to explain to you why at first I did not think an apology was needed. I was wrong.”
She scoffed before wiping her eyes with one of her knuckles. “You are a scary man Severus you can hardly blame me for reacting like this,” she flipped her hair off her shoulder before fixing her knapsack strap. “Oh and I’ll have you know that being called a whore does not get easier the more it happens. I expected you to be more sensible, it seems I was mistaken for thinking you were different than most.”
Dumbfounded by the unexpected continuation of the conversation they had prior to this, Severus simply stood in place with his mouth slightly open as she started walking towards the big door. “I– what–,” he hurried to trail after her. “I am different than most,” he said, sounding like a teenager desperate to be seen as unique. “I am not like those other men you’ve met, I can assure you it won’t happen again.”
She stopped walking and turned to him. “And what kind of man are you, Severus?”
“Well I… do not make habit of calling women names, and I am professional enough to avoid having conflicts with my coworkers,” He was not exactly sure why he was stuttering trying to defend his character. “I must ask you to understand me, the women around me are nothing like you. They wouldn’t have asked for someone to supervise their classes.”
“And now you’re saying I’m not as good as the other professors! You–” she sniffed once. “Well I’m so incredibly sorry for being scared of a bloody troll attacking me while I’m looking at the stars!” She adjusted the strap of her bag again and shook her head before continuing. “I was so relieved Quirrell was replaced with you because you were the one man I trusted not to make it weird once we were left alone in the same room. But coming to think of it, maybe Professor Quirrell and his weird habit of poking me with his quill would have been better than to have you be so hostile to me.”
“I’m not hostile.”
“Are you not? Then tell me what else could I call your knack for glaring at me at any given chance, or how you laugh to yourself whenever I say something not at all amusing.”
If he was quite honest he was not expecting her to be this confrontational. “Then I ask you, what kind of man did you think I was?”
“I thought you quiet, as if your mind were filled with loud thoughts. I found you fascinating.”
“With all due respect, I am not to blame if my true self broke whatever fantasy you had of me,” The entire conversation threatened to turn his brain inside out, it was harrowing for a reason he could not pinpoint. “Like I said last time I advise you to avoid paying attention to me, that way your little head won’t be deceived by baseless assumptions.”
“Very well!”
“Very well,” he repeated menacingly. “But I want you to remember I did try to apologize.”
“If you call that an apology then I feel bad for the other women in your life. Do you use female tears to brew your potions?”
Vixen.
“Whatever I choose to do with other women is nothing you should worry about… well, you do think about me often enough that I’m sure your mind will provide vivid imaginations to quiet your questions. If you’ll excuse me,” he spat before turning around and walking, almost flying, to his chambers.
Right before he turned around a corner she yelled, “I rather spend a week with Filch and his bloody cat than to breathe near you ever again!”
So much for an apology, he thought.
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By the time he got to his room his robes were making his skin itch so he practically tore them off of him. He thought, “that’s what I get for trying to apologize,” Dumbledore‘s disapproving expression last time they had talked was what finally pushed him to step on the twig. He supposes you cannot be a worthy leader if your face alone is not capable of making people do things, in this opportunity it was to make Severus feel guilty.
He went to lay down on his bed, he felt like he was about to have a heart attack.
How pathetic it was of him to be so short of breath because for once he had not won an argument. His skin felt itchy, and he also felt hot all over. For a moment he thought he was actually dying or something of the sort, his legs felt weak, his hands numb.
However, even if he kept his interactions with the female gender as scarce as he could, he was not clueless. He knew very well that what he was feeling in that very moment had little to do with anger and annoyance.
He knew his body was betraying him. There was no other explanation as to why he felt the exact same way he remembered feeling back when he was a foolish teenager who got excited after that older Hufflepuff girl stroked his hair once. He was being utterly pathetic.
He was aware his brain was his best asset. The one thing he focused on training. He had never regretted not paying more attention to his body as he did at that moment, for it was acting on its own accord. Leave it to his body to feel aroused after having an argument with the one attractive woman he knew.
Was it adrenaline? Because he had read about how after surviving dangerous situations, some peoples circulatory systems acted up out of nowhere. After all she could be quite scary when the smile had been wiped off her face.
It would have been so much easier if her face were not so alluring. Because Severus was anything but blind.
His dexterity had more to do with his immunity to people's tricks, but he would be foolish to deprive himself of appreciating someone’s beauty. Honestly, that was all there was to her. He thought of her as a pretty shell lacking of a pearl on the inside.
He had long given up on denying her appeal, although he had never expected himself to take after the silly man that trailed after her because of her appearance. He was better than them in every aspect.
But clearly enough, even if his intelligence excelled those of the most noble men, he was only a man at the end of the day.
She was nothing like those aristocratic wives he got to see a couple times a year, no, to him she was a childish woman who seemed to have been raised by parents made out of cotton. With the way she so foolishly treated everyone as if they were dear to her. He supposes her personality could also be seen reflected on her overall appearance, she looked naïve. Why were her cheeks permanently rosey? She looked agitated all day long. She was not overly slim and her limbs were not long and elegant like those of McGonagall for example. She did not possess the finesse Narcissa Malfoy did.
The more he thought about her the more he realized she left a lot to desire if she wished to be called a woman.
But sincerely, who was he trying to fool when even though he barely saw her as a woman, he was still laying on his bed with a prominent erection in his pants. It was as if he was trying to convince an audience when he was the only one in that room. The shame was so great he battled his thoughts for a couple minutes.
He was aroused, that much was clear.
Carnal needs were not something he was much to acquainted with, but even someone like him knew a night of rest would not come easily if he chose to ignore the problem. It was safe to say that he was very much a novice of masturbation. To him it always felt degrading, but when the time came he knew he had to get on with it.
With his cheeks burning as if he were standing right above a boiling cauldron, he sat up and moved to the edge of his bed. Removing all his clothes made it all seem more real than his brain would like it to be, so he chose to pull down his trousers along with his undergarments. It had been so long since he succumbed to the last resort that masturbation was, that he hesitated a few seconds before he placed his hand around his penis. At first his hand felt like that of a stranger, because of course, it was now that his brain decided to try to detach itself from the situation. But it was far too late.
Shaking his head as if to clear it up, he squeezed. His loud moan echoing in the room and going back to his ears, this made him feel humiliated. But he had to keep going. Noticing the way the touch of his hand against his skin was too dry, he took his hand near his mouth and licked his palm. Quickly returning to what it was doing prior. His thin bony fingers making a sound that was nothing but torture to Severus’ ears, what he was doing at that moment was a confirmation about what she had told him.
He was in fact, like those other men. Because here he was, masturbating after having a conversation with her. And of course, how could he not make up an image of her in his brain while he was working himself up.
In the hazy fantasy that bedeviled his mind, she had a wild look on her face. Her eyebrows furrowed the same way they had been when they were fighting, her cheeks even more cherry than usual. All in all she painted a perfect picture of what one would describe as anger and frustration. Because oh, his weak state of mind at the moment let him entertain the idea of finding her attractive when she looked displeased by him. There was something so inherently arousing about a normally sweet woman that went feral over a stupid man.
He never thought himself to be someone with a liking for degradation of any sort, that had not changed now even though his hand was quickly going up and back down on his cock. But Merlin, imagining her being angry at him more often sure did wonders for his otherwise dead libido.
By now, the hand he was not using was supporting his body as it leaned back a little, his head thrown back in place. He opened his legs wider because he felt like he was about to fall to the ground even though he was sitting on his bed. Being inexperienced when it came to self pleasure, he did not know what he wanted. He was not sure if he wanted it fast and to hurt a little, or if he wanted to drag it out. So he tried both.
He started by borderline abusing his cock, he went up and down and in a matter of seconds his skin turned a little red due to the friction.
“Fuck,” he whimpered pathetically. His voice going an octave higher, making him sound like a whiny and desperate man. Nothing like the way he presented himself.
When the pleasure started to gloss his eyes over he let himself indulge in his fantasies. He promised himself it would be the last time he let that happen.
He noticed the way her hands were always manicured. It would be a sight to have one of them wrapped around him. She would not be talkative, he thought she was the type to get straight to it. The only voice filling up the room would be his.
“That okay?” She would ask.
At that mental image he moaned even louder. He squeezed the base of his cock because he felt on edge, the pain made him come back to reality. That reality being himself sitting on his bed, with his clothes all pulled in funny ways so he could have access to his penis, his knees almost touching because of how good he was feeling. His entire body curled into itself.
He thought retaking the position he was in before that was the smartest decision. So he went back to supporting his weight on one of his arms, his neck relaxing again.
His wet hand started stroking himself again. The squelching noise being amplified by the fact that his eyes were closed, giving his ears more to focus on. By this point he felt like his body did not know how to react to all the sensations he was not used to. The utter ignorance made him end up tightening his fist around the head and thrust his hips upwards. And good Merlin, did that do it for him.
He went at it for a few very short minutes before he was involuntary standing up, still fucking his fist.
He thought he must have looked like a madman, all alone in his room, groaning like a rabid dog and fucking his hand. Doing all that while standing on his legs and looking at the ceiling.
It was not long before he came all over the carpet at the end of his bed.
The shame being entirely too much for him so he decided to ignore the stain for now, getting rid of it would be a task for the Severus of tomorrow.
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He did not have more than a few months to feel bad about what he did. And yes, months is a short time for Severus, considering the fact he was the type to beat himself up for years. That being said, his wallowing was cut short abruptly because of Harry Potter.
Yes.
If Severus was the type to drown in self pity, Harry Potter was the type to have a teacher try to kill him even though he was barely eleven.
Sometimes he wondered if having the Harry Potter at Hogwarts was putting the rest of the students in danger. Never in the history of the school had a teacher carried a dark wizard on the back of his head. It was mental.
The fidgety man managed to fool almost everyone, including the Gryffindor trio who would go out of their way to make students shut their mouths whenever Quirrell stuttered and laughter filled the classroom. But a man experienced with deception such as Severus could not be outwitted. Bloody Quirrell had been scheming the entire time just as Severus had suspected. His injured leg could not have been enough proof to tell the rest of the school staff but it had been enough for Dumbledore to believe him. So to say the revelation came as a surprise to everyone would have been a lie.
Harry Potter had survived yet again thanks to Lily’s sacrifice. As it seemed the Dark Lord stood no chance against the love of a mother. And because Severus was a selfish man, he found a way to make it about himself. He thought Lily always accomplished her task of reminding him just how deep of a mark she had left in him, even after all these years. Previous to this ordeal the only woman in his mine was the other professor. He was occupied avoiding her while also thinking about her face all the hours he spent awake. She was honestly poisoning him. But now looking at Harry’s eyes all he could think about was the obsolete possibility of him ever moving on. After all, Lily's child depended on him now. Those big bright eyes looking up at him as he stood next to the burnt body of his professor made him feel guilty for ever thinking about other women.
Women were a distraction. He supposes everything is a distraction when the life of a child depends on you entirely, because to him Dumbledore’s words were nothing but null promises to make himself sound like a martyr. At the end of the day Harry Potter was going to be his responsibility for the next six years
After all was done Dumbledore took Harry and his friends to his office where McGonagall was already waiting, next to her was sitting the very woman tormenting his thoughts. The small Weasley child started wailing as soon as the woman gave him a little sad smile, apparently her face alone acted as some sort of switch for tears as the other two brats threatened to drown everyone in the room with the tears rolling down their cheeks. A sea of tears, quite literally. The student next to his friends was putting on a tough guy façade, he didn’t join the hug she was offering. It was honestly a sorry sight, it was enough to move Severus and his ice cold heart so he turned around as if it was also his responsibility to avoid hurting Harry Potter’s ego.
So that is how he chose to spend the next hour or so, filling a space in the room with the other teachers who were also not the best at comforting scared children. Ronald Weasley cried until his eyes resembled potatoes.
“Oh but Harry was so brave, wasn’t he?” She said, letting the question hang in the air as she had not asked that to anyone in particular. She only meant to comfort the boy in a way that did not require physical contact.
Harry simply nodded, sniffing before replying. “I did not give him the stone,” he said.
“So I heard Harry. What a brave boy you are.” Ronald’s yawn interrupted her before she could continue.
Dumbledore clasped his hands as he moved to stand up, “ I believe it is time you three go to the dormitories, Merlin knows Harry needs it.”
“I’m quite alright sir,” he said eyeing his sleepy friend that had yet to let go of the other professor.
She shook her head and gently touched the ginger boy’s head. “It’s for the best you all go,” she looked at Severus. “Could you walk them to their common room?”
Dumbfounded by her voice being directed at him, all he did was nod. “Let us go then, children.”
“Ah! C-could you go with us, Miss?” Granger nervous voice reach his ears. “It’s, umm… Girl stuff…” she trailed. It was so clearly a lie to everyone in the office but they all pretended to be none the wiser
The children feared him.
“Oh yes. I’ll go too so we can talk.”
They made their way to the Dormitories remarkably fast. The Weasley boy trailing after Harry and flinching at any shadow his eyes saw, while Harry and Granger walked close to the woman.
When they reached the Gryffindor door Harry turned around before going in and looked at her. “Were you a Gryffindor too?” His big light eyes looked at her in wonder.
“No, I’m a Ravenclaw. I’m all brains no bravery I’m afraid, nothing like you three.” The fourth of them giggled. “So thank you Harry, thank you for keeping us safe.”
The boy let out a silly giggle that served to remind Severus just how young he truly was, he found him quite annoying most days so it was easy for him to forget Harry Potter was an eleven year old. “Always Miss.”
“Now, inside you go come on,” she ushered them in. She turned to look at Granger and cocked her head. “Or did you still want to talk Hermione?”
“No. I must have forgotten.” She said with a tinkle in her brown eyes, the same thing Severus could see in the woman’s eyes. They seemed to be sharing a joke only the two of them could understand.
“Alright then, have a good night.”
The trio voiced their goodbyes and disappeared. As soon as they were out of their sight, she looked at him and said, “How do you do it?”
“Do what exactly?”
“Lie to them, I mean,” quickly realizing her words had come off as an attack, she rushed to say, “I meant, how do you lie to Harry Potter. How do you make him feel safe when you know he’s clearly not.”
“Well I’m not sure yet, this is the first Harry Potter I meet.” She shook her head while looking at the floor to hide the smile his lame attempt at a joke had caused.
She sighed. “It’s not fair, this poor child has so much coming his way. He’s just a boy.”
Severus simply made a noise in agreement. “In this world most situations are not fair.”
“I suppose you’re right,” she lifted her hand to fix the hair framing her face. Her skin looked dull, unlike her every day self. He though that if she took everything that happened to students so serious she was bound to burn out soon enough. “How have you been Severus, it feels like I only ever see the back of your head.”
“Must I remind you we see each other every Wednesday.”
“But even then we don’t talk, do we?”
Was she really attempting to rekindle ON they spent months acting like the other one did not exist. How dare she try to, in her own way, apologize when he was the one that made her cry. “Don’t go there.”
“I just feel like engaging in petty fights is overkill when the school could take one of us out any day.”
“Not very optimistic are you?”
“I’m sorry.”
“Nothing to be sorry about.”
She looked at him through her curled lashes for a few seconds too long before reaching out with her hand to pat him on the head as if he was a bloody dog in need of affection. She smiled before opening her mouth again, “We must be at least in good terms in case something bad happens. I would not enjoy asking for help if we are on that terms, you’ll find I’d rather die than ask for saving if I don’t like someone.”
“Very well then.”
And because Severus was not used to blushing he made a quick exit to go back to his chambers so he could drink a feel-well potion as he was clearly coming down with something given the heat on his face.
She had really petted him at two in the morning.
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fireflylitsky · 3 months ago
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Hehe Shisui is apparently popular today XD answered that one here
Fixing Overhaul. Oh boy, what to say for myself on this one? 😂 I have no excuse. I'm down bad for Overhaul and I am throwing my very dumb, cute moth girl at his face like a sopping wet t-shirt. The plot goes something like this: Kai's childhood friend, whom he thought was dead, has just tumbled back into his life. She's disgusting, of course, what with that 'silk' quirk of hers. But he can fix her, he's sure of it. (joke is on him in the end)
Aaaaand a snippey based on a pet names prompt:
As far as pet names go, most of that is beyond cringe to Kai. But he finds himself calling her one thing in particular--only in his head so far. Not all the time or anything, but it’s almost slipped out once or twice. 
It’s bound to happen at this point with how much he thinks it, and within a week it does.
“Stay close,” he says, resting his gloved hand against the small of her back as they walk. Despite his aversion to people and their filth, he’s learned that he feels better when he’s got a hand in her in crowds like this. 
99.9% of people will take one look and know to keep a distance from her. The notorious leader of the Shie Hassaikai is a repellent of sorts, generally speaking.
It’s the .1% he needs to be wary of. The people that see his hand on her like it’s painting a target. Like he's just given them a fun new way to get to him.
Either way, he needs her to stay close, and right now she’s faltering, getting distracted by a string of lanterns hung on a nearby shop.
“Fuwa,” he says, ushering her to move along with him.
She absently stumbles forward a step, still enraptured with the dancing flames flickering within the lanterns. Pretty fire—basically her kryptonite.
“Fuwa, sweetheart, come on.”
She stops in her tracks, head tipping back to look up at him with big blinky eyes. Ah, shit. She’s going to make a big deal out of this.
“What?” Her head tilts in genuine confusion. “What did you just call me?”
“It’s nothing,” he dismisses. “Just a common pet name, now let’s go.”
“A pet name,” she repeats, confused. “So am I your pet?”
“No.” He snorts. She’s so literal sometimes it’s comical.
“So it doesn’t mean anything?” she questions, still not moving.
“I—no. Not really. It’s just a name.”
“Oh,” she murmurs, suddenly sounding dejected, staring at the ground.
Shit.
“It doesn’t mean nothing,” he amends, heat creeping onto his cheeks.
“I was hoping it meant you liked me,” she admits like it's nothing with a slant of her mouth.
“Fu…” he sighs, exasperated. “It does. That’s exactly what it means, okay?”
“Really?” She brightens.
“Yes.”
“Well, I like you too, should I start calling you sweet tart too?”
Kai actually lets out a small, scoffing laugh, caught off guard. “First of all, it’s sweetheart, not sweet tart. Secondly, no.”
“Why not? I like you too.”
“Well I’m glad for that, but it doesn’t suit me.”
“Why not?”
“Because unlike you, I’m not very sweet.”
“I think you’re sweet, Kai,” she says earnestly, brows bowing up. “I think you’re the sweetest.”
That's what worries him. It twists his guts up when she says stuff like this. 
“That’s… nice of you, Fu. It is. That’s exactly why the name suits you. Why don’t you come up with a different name for me?” There. That’ll keep her busy in her head for about the next two hours. Maybe now he can actually get her to walk with him.
“Okay,” she beams, clearly excited by the assignment. 
“Good.” He pets her hair down over the nape of her neck, giving it an affectionate squeeze. “Now let’s go. Stay close.”
She doesn’t answer, a look of concentration already painted on her face as she picks up pace alongside him again. Lord knows what’s going on in that mind of hers. He might regret this later, but what’s done is done.
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frostbeees · 1 year ago
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will you know me?
2023 wrappedmas day four • song: Georgia by Phoebe Bridgers
ao3 · masterpost
Nolan hasn’t seen or talked to Nick since that night almost ten years ago now.
As Nolan’s driving down the winding Michigan backroads, he thinks maybe this was a mistake. He gets the invite every year, the annual friends and family weekend at the Hughes’ Lakehouse, and for the past ten years, he’s either made up some bullshit excuse not to go or he’s been out of the country. It’s worked for him. He hasn’t had to see any of the bridges he’s burned or the broken hearts he left behind. And he’s especially been able to avoid the one person that both of those things apply to. 
But the thing is he’s grown. Or at least he thinks so. He probably hasn’t. He’s probably the same ol’ shithead that he’s been since he hit puberty all those years ago. But he’s definitely not the same fuckup who decided to “confess his love” to his best friend on the night of said best friend’s wedding so that has to count for something. 
And even if he was, he’s past that. Nolan hasn’t seen or talked to Nick since that night almost ten years ago now. He deleted all of his social media, blocked numbers in his phone, got right with God (and then decided fuck that specifically), and figured his shit out. He just never got to the "making amends" part of it all, which maybe in hindsight is why he should have ignored the invite once again.
He finally gets to the house and navigates the sprawling driveway littered with other parked cars both shiny and new, probably belonging to the guys still in the show, and others more like his, dented and chipped paint, guys who clearly couldn’t hang with the big dogs. He finds an open spot and parks his truck, turns it off, and takes a few minutes to do the breathing exercises his therapist taught him. They don’t really do the trick this time as anxiety still simmers beneath his skin but he did them more for the routine of it than anything else. 
It’s easier once he’s inside, familiar faces lighting up when they see him. Daps all around. Nolan comes across quite a few unfamiliar faces as well as he makes his way through the entryway and into the rest of the house. A couple of kids even -for fuck's sake he's old- just little tykes darting between the legs of innocent bystanders. He has no idea who they belong to but they look suspiciously like even littler Hugheses (not surprising) except for the little girl with dark, thick hair and high cheekbones that are a familiar blotchy red color from exertion. 
Nolan makes small talk with the Duke boys and Luke who are all posted up in the kitchen. They thankfully hand him a beer without him asking and he throws a salute back their way as he sneaks out the backdoor and onto the deck. 
He’s not admitting defeat yet but it is quieter out here, less overstimulating. Nolan’s stopped to talk to Zegras and Drysdale, still somehow attached at the hip even after being separated in a nasty trade deal. He’s always liked Z. He’s insane, mind still moving a mile a millisecond but he also knows how to bring a person down which is a relief. They move on eventually, Z claiming the need to find food to "keep Jimmy happy or else". He doesn’t elaborate on what the ‘or else’ means though.
Nolan’s alone for the first time since arriving at the party and he takes a minute to just lean over the railing, beer dangling in his fingers as he takes in the lake behind the house. The ambient noise of the boats on the water and the people at the party is enough to distract him from a body sidling up against him and when he glances over, he’s shocked, to say the least.  
“Long time, no see sport,” Nick says, voice careful and flat even if his face is as cheery as ever. And he’s right. It’s been a long time. 
“Hey chief,” Nolan replies, just like their old script went. 
They spend the evening catching up, eventually moving from the deck railing to some Adirondack chairs down on the beach. They occasionally get interrupted by a stray kid running down the shoreline to show off whatever gross thing they found in the water or one of the dogs bringing them a ball to toss. But they hit all the basics. Nick’s injury that finally made him retire, his new job in Columbus teaching youth hockey. Nolan’s retirement after a year of bouncing around teams that didn’t really want him, bumming around his hometown much to the dismay of his parents. They dance around the obvious subject until the sun starts to set and Nolan’s had enough beer to give him a nice, confident buzz.
“So how’s Ken–,” Nolan glances down at Nick’s ring finger which he’s now realizing is startling bare. Not even a tan line to indicate recent wearing of a ring. “Oh.”
“Ah yeah,” Nick says with a stretch. “Kendra moved out a couple of years ago now. Took the dog and left a note saying something about me never really loving her or whatever. She was probably right. Hard to love someone when you’re not over someone else.”
Nolan gives an understanding hum but Nick keeps going. “What about you? You manage to settle down with someone?”
“Nah.” The old Nolan would make some sort of joke, something about not wanting to be tied down, needing to be free. The new Nolan is different, apparently. “Hard to do when you want someone you can’t have.”
When he finally looks away from the water, Nick’s looking up at him with the most earnest expression, which is saying a lot for a man who could get mixed up with a sad puppy in a lineup. He’s not really sure what to do with it so he does the next best thing.
“You wanna?” Nolan waggles his eyebrows, making his intent super clear. He nods towards the shed down by the water. “For old time's sake?”
Nick’s quiet for a few minutes. Which– Isn’t a no, but also isn’t a yes to Nolan’s proposition.
“What if we try something new?” Nick asks and Nolan is confused. They’ve done basically everything from drunken blowies in a frat basement to sweet, drawn-out morning sex. There’s nothing sexual they didn’t check off the list in college. And anything they haven’t managed to try definitely can’t be done in a shitty shed. “Let me take you on a date? A real date.”
Nolan huffs out a laugh mostly out of surprise but also to cover up whatever his face must be doing right now. 
“Yeah, okay old man. Let’s do it right this time.”
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Text
peace | S. Sallow | Chapter One
Sebastian Sallow x F!OC
Warnings: none
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Rain pattered on the windows of the train as it whisked by the English and Scottish countryside. The sounds of students chattering away about their summer holidays muffled by the glass door of the compartment Ariadne shared with Sebastian. He was reading a book whilst Ariadne stared out the window, watching the water droplets slide down the glass.
She was excited to be going back to Hogwarts, yet at the same time; she felt pained. Returning as the Savior of Hogwarts. But at what cost? Certainly not the life of a beloved professor. Ariadne wondered who the school got to teach Magical Theory now that Professor Fig was gone.
"Are we going to talk about what happened a few weeks ago, or are we going to sit here in silence while you stare mindlessly out the window?" Sebastian said, flipping a page of the book he was reading.
"I've already told you, I don't know what that was," Ariadne pinched the bridge of her nose.
"Whatever it was clearly frightened you," the boy looked up from his book, his gaze focusing on her instead.
"It felt like my power was out of control. It scared me, Bash. I thought I had it under control of sorts, but when that shopkeeper put the pendant around my neck... I don't know. It's like my power grew, and so did the dark urge to use it."
Ariadne looked away, her gaze going back to the window. She wiped a stray tear from her eye. She felt Sebastian take her hand and squeeze it.
"Thank you for telling me," He said, "and thank you for letting me be with you over the summer."
The girl looked back at Sebastian, his deep brown eyes full of sincerity and something else she could not place. This time, it was her turn to squeeze his hand.
"I just couldn't bear the thought of you being alone with every thing that happened. After all, what are friends for?"
Sebastian let go of her hand and cleared his throat, "Right. Friends."
Before Ariadne got a chance to ask him what that was supposed to mean, the compartment door opened. Ominis Guant stood there, wand outstretched, the tip glowing red.
He looked a lot thinner than when Ariadne and Sebastian had seen him last. Dark circles beneath his clouded gray eyes, and his cheeks looked more hallow. On top of that, he was also a lot paler than he was at the end of term. Though there were some positives to his appearance. Ominis had gotten taller, probably taller than Sebastian. And his blonde hair was slightly longer.
"Is this car full, or is there room for one more?" He asked timidly.
Sebastian cleared his throat and set his book aside, "No, it's not full. You're more than welcome to take a seat."
Ariadne noted the awkward tension between the two boys. After all, Ominis only kept in contact with Ariadne over the summer. She knew that he spent summer holiday with his family, even though it pained him. She kept offering invitations for him to come stay with her and Sebastian. Though deep down, she knew the effort was futile, seeing how he and Sebastian weren't on speaking terms.
Ominis took the bench across from Sebastian and Ariadne. He laid his wand on the bench next to him. He looked like he was trying to decide on what to say. And so did Sebastian.
"How was your summer, Ominis?" Ariadne broke the silence.
A thin line appeared on the blond boys lips as he furrowed his brows, "It wasn't great, if that's what you want to know, Ariadne. Though you should already know that."
"Ominis, I-" Sebastian started to say, but Ominis held his hand up to stop him.
"I don't need your apologies, Sebastian, there's nothing to forgive," The blind boy said in a harsh tone.
Sebastian looked dejected, but Ominis cleared his throat.
"It's not me who needs the apology. But I'm willing to make amends after what transpired in the catacombs. But I still think that what you did, did not come without consequences. You will eventually have to face them one way or another. The cost of using Dark Magic is great. And from the letters Ariadne sent me over the summer, you're trying to come to terms with what you did, but you're still struggling with that inner turmoil and the guilt."
After Ominis was done speaking, he leaned back into the seat. Letting his head rest against the headrest, breathing out a tired sigh.
"I hope we can make amends, Ominis, I don't know what I'd do without you." Sebastian sounded grateful that he could finally start to reconcile with his oldest friend.
Ariadne smiled at this. Hopefully, this school year would let them (Sebastian and Ominis) be close as they once were.
"Now, enough about what happened last term, how summer holiday for you two?"
***
The Great Hall was alive with students and teachers once more. Food piled on the tables in mouth watering heaps and pumpkin juice filled goblets. Students chattering filled the air. Cheers from the different houses arose as first years got sorted.
Ariadne sat beside Imelda Reyes across from Sebastian and Ominis at the Slytherin table. A sense of normalcy started to settle. Something she hoped would stay for a while. Professor Black made the announcement that quidditch was back and tryouts started the following week after classes were settled.
"Are you trying out, Silverthorne?" Imelda asked.
Ariadne looked at the girl next to her, "As much as I enjoyed beating your times on a broom, I think I'll pass on quidditch."
Imelda just rolled her eyes and then turned her attention to Sebastian- who was currently stuffing his face with sheperds pie. Ariadne made a face but said nothing.
"What about you, Sallow? Still down for your seeker position?"
Sebastian stopped eating and swallowed his food. His gaze went to Imelda before smirking.
"Of course! I can't miss a chance to face off against Winterfaire when I take the golden snitch right out from under him!" He exclaimed proudly before sending a glare towards Ravenclaw's table.
Ariadne turned around to where Sebastian was glaring. It was Coulter Winterfaire. Who was sending an equally powerful glare back.
Coulter Winterfaire was in their year. Ravenclaw. Tall, windswept raven hair, milk chocolate eyes, a scar under his right eye, and angular features with Welsh accent. The Ravenclaw 'it' boy, if you must. For some reason, he and Sebastian never saw eye to eye and were constantly at each other's throats. Ariadne never knew why. Though with the brief interactions she's had with Coulter, he was a gentleman. Kind, witty, always offering a helping hand with homework and assignments. And his grades were over all the best in their year, even Amit Thakkar would double check with Coulter on some things.
"Are you going to give him another scar to match the one you gave him back in third year?" Imelda questioned, taking a drink of her pumpkin juice.
"Depends on how rough it gets," Sebastian replied with a shrug.
"You got three months of detention for that, Sebastian," Ominis commented.
"Really, three months' worth of detention?" Ariadne asked.
"Are you really that surprised, Ari?" Sebastian rested his face on one hand and chuckled, flashing that charming smile of his.
"You're insufferable," The witch rolled her eyes and continued on eating her dinner.
Mischief danced on Sebastian's eyes. Ariadne couldn't help but get lost in them. She had no idea how long she and Sebastian were looking at each other, but broke eye contact before he, too, returned to his sheperds pie.
After dinner was over, everyone went to their separate common rooms. Stepping into the Slytherin common never felt better.
The stone walls and arched ceilings, the massive windows looking out into the black lake, the green and silver decor, and the giant fireplace in the middle. The gothic architecture reminded Ariadne so much of her home back in London, almost as if she hadn't left Silverthorne Manor.
She bid Sebastian and Ominis a good night while walking with Imelda to their shared dorm room. When they entered, Ariadne fell onto her bed and sighed in relief.
"It's good to be back," She said, looking up at the canopy that hung over her bed.
"I'd say," Imelda commented, "Finally got quidditch back. I bet ten galleons that Madme Kogawa blackmailed Professor Black."
Ariadne laughed, sitting up. She tucked her legs under her as she brushed hair from her face.
"I also happened to notice that some things changed between you and Sallow. Care to share?"
This caught Ariadne off guard. Of all people, she thought Imelda would care less about how she spent her summer. She was not about to tell her roommate that she slept with Sebastian.
"Nothing happened, if that's what you want to know," Ariadne answered, "Sebastian and I are just friends."
"Right," Imelda rolled her eyes, changing into her pajamas, "Just friends don't looked each other the way you and Sebastian looked at each other over dinner."
"I don't know what you're talking about." Ariadne looked down at her hands in her lap.
She fiddled with her fingers. She always did when she was anxious or scared. It's a nervous habit she had since she was little.
"Fine, I won't press it," the Slytherin  quidditch captain said, "but get ready for bed. Classes start in the morning."
Ariadne nodded before getting ready for bed. Changing into a silk, lilac colored nightgown that reached mid thigh and had flowing lace sleeves. It was a gift from her mother before she passed away. Ariadne loved it. She always loved the color lilac. It's suited her the best, complimenting her pale skin. And she charised this piece of clothing because it was the last thing her mother ever gave her.
She climbed into bed, pulling the emerald quilt over her body. Ariadne blew the candle of the nightstand out before resting her head on the goose feather pillow and falling into a dreamless sleep.
***
"Good morning, class! And welcome to year six of charms!" Professor Ronan exclaimed excitedly as he bounded down the staircase from his office.
"Who's this energetic this early in the morning?" Sebastian yawned from his seat next to Ariadne, resting his head on one hand.
"Professor Ronan, apparently," She whispered back, twirling her wand in one hand.
Professor Ronan went over the syllabus for the year and what charms the class would be learning. Ariadne was quite intrigued that the class would start learning non-verbal charms and spells.
"One non-verbal spell is Levicorpus, though Professor Hecat will be teaching you that one," Ronan chuckled, moving around the classroom overzealous. "Though for today, you will be learning the water-making spell! Aquamenti! Now, would anyone like to volunteer to help demonstrate the- Ah, Mr. Winterfaire!"
Ariadne could practically feel the annoyance radiate off of the brown haired boy next to her as Coulter made his way to Professor Ronan. He had his wand at the ready, as the professor explained how to cast the charm. And with the wave of his wand - and the confidence only one sorted into Ravenclaw could muster - a stream of water came out of the tip of Coulter's wand.
"Excellent work! 10 points to Ravenclaw!" Ronan smiled, patting the boy on the back.
"Thank you, Professor," Coulter said before returning to his seat.
"Show off," Sebastian muttered.
"Relax, Bash, this is the only first day of classes," Ariadne chuckled.
As class progressed, Professor Ronan had the class pair up and practice the charm. Which may have resulted half of the class getting drenched from head to toe, but nothing a little drying charm couldn't fix. And as the class came to an end, Ariadne and Sebastian made their way out of the classroom, only to be stopped just outside.
"Silverthorne!"
Ariadne turned at the mention of her last name. Coulter stood there, a smile on his face and a charms textbook on hand.
"Oh, hello, Coulter!" She greeted.
"Yes, hello, Winterfaire..." Sebastian sounded annoyed.
Ariadne nudged him in the ribs as of to say 'knock it off, you twat!'. Coulter gave Sebastian a sneer. The two genuinely seemed to dislike each other. The raven haired boy turned his attention back to Ariadne, a charming smile forming on his lips.
"I was wondering if you would like to go to The Three Broomsticks with me later for a butterbeer, if Sallow here would allow it," Coulter said, gesturing towards Sebastian.
"Absolutely no-" The brunet started
"I can answer for myself, Bash!" Ariadne interrupted, glaring at Sebastian.
She turned her attention back to Coulter, "As much as I would love to do so, I have other plans."
Coulter nodded, "I see, maybe next time?"
"Maybe," Ariadne said as Coulter gave Sebastian a glare and walked away.
"What the hell was that?!" She looked up at Sebastian.
"Coulter Winterfaire is a no good git," Sebastian spat angrily.
"Unbelievable," Ariadne had to stop herself from rolling her eyes, "I'm off to Care of Magical Beasts, I'll see you at lunch."
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goldenkwilde · 7 months ago
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we come back every time | hunter & kitty
CHARACTERS: Hunter Clarington and Kitty Wilde DATE & TIME: October 25th LOCATION: Dottie's 21st Birthday Party SUMMARY: After 3 weeks of not speaking, Kitty finds Hunter outside the party to make amends. And, boy, do they make amends. WARNINGS: Alcohol mentions TAGS: @askhunterclarington
Kitty A party for Dottie of all people wasn't Kitty's idea of a great night out. True, she didn't dislike the girl by any means, but she wasn't exactly what Kitty would call cool, and definitely not cool enough to have an invitation accepted by Kitty. But still, she was Kitty's protégé, and that incurred at least a little goodwill. Goodwill that now, standing in the middle of the party in a scarlet mini dress that certainly cost more than Dottie's rent, a shot in her hand, and catching Hunter shoot one glance at her before turning and walking out the door, she was regretting.
She hadn't been on good terms with Hunter since the news of the fight had gotten out, and it had felt desolate, to say the least. She couldn't count how many times she'd reached for her phone, filled with a sudden surge of courage and pigheadedness, ready to talk again, before it had worn off as quickly with a reminder of his last message to her. I think I need some time. The words that had haunted her since. She didn't know what to do, or even whether she should do anything at all. He'd been so upset, and she knew he would be. If she were honest with herself, that's why she hadn't told him, and that was potentially the most confusing part of all. Why did she care what he thought of her? Lord knows she never cared what other people thought; as long as they found her hot and knew she could get her way, she didn't care. Clearly Hunter knew both of these things, but knowing that she'd upset him and made him think God knows what about her had been a torment.
She took a deep breath, watching the now closing door. She knew what the next step would normally be; take a few more shots, find some football player to hang off the rest of the night, and try to forget about Hunter Clarington. But instead, much to her surprise, she quickly threw her shot back before starting to walk through the crowd towards the door.
Slipping through so as to be unnoticed, she looked around the yard for where Hunter could have gone, trying to ignore the goosebumps on her skin from the cold night air; she'd chosen the dress for vanity, not warmth, after all. Finally she spotted him leaning against the wall of the house, only illuminated by the porch light behind her. Grateful for the quick shot of Dutch courage she'd given herself, she took a deep breath and slowly walked up to him, wrapping her arms around her body as she did. "Hi." She said softly, looking up at him as his face became clearer in her view.
Hunter This typically wasn’t the way he would choose to spend his down time, getting drunk at a party was generally the last thing on his mind. Hunter couldn’t stand all of the drunk, sweaty bodies all piled into such a small and confined space. The idiots that thought it was acceptable to cut someone off, or carelessly walk into others drove him absolutely mad. But in the interest of going out of his comfort zone- and maybe even looking for a distraction from the confusing mess happening in his head - here he was. It seemed he found himself partying more and more frequently as of late. Whether it was an incredibly unhealthy coping mechanism, or some desperate way to remain close to a certain blonde, he didn’t know, and he was terrified to think too hard about it and find out.
The music was pumping, and the drinks were flowing. It should behave been the perfect situation to be in. And that would’ve been the case, if he could do anything other than watch Kitty from across the other side of the room. With a drink in hand, Hunter tried his best to be unbothered by the fact that she seemed so unfazed by everything that had been going on externally. He wasn’t supposed to care, his personal mantra playing on repeat in the back of his mind. The more he reminded himself of them, though, the less they seemed to mean. And so he cracked. Unable to hold back the rush of emotions that overcome him, he made a bee line for the nearest door outside. Obviously it was the stuffy air from the fog machine that had him feeling like the whole room was closing in on himself.
Outside felt immediately better and leaning back against the wall, Hunter closed his eyes and took a deep, calming breath. He was so busy off in his own head that he didn’t even hear the person approaching him soon after. The voice broke him from his own thoughts, eyes snapping open as he quickly looked down to the owner of said voice. He recognised it immediately, and with a sharp inhale, he met her eyes. To say he was confused was an understatement, but even with the anxious pit that settled in the bottom of his stomach, there was a rush of relief at having her so close. It’d been the longest days of his life not having her standing within arms reach. “Hi.” He echoed back instinctually as he noticed her arms folded across her chest. Without a second thought, Hunter slipped his leather jacket off of his shoulders to wrap around hers for some warmth. “What’re you doing out here?”
Kitty Kitty couldn't help the wave of relief that washed over her as he responded with absolutely anything other than 'go away', even if his words weren't exactly enthusiastic. She'd been so prepared to be spurned and sent away that she took this as a win, as she'd taken every other minor online interaction the two of them had had in the time they'd been apart. Her mouth fell open as his jacket fell over her shoulders, momentarily taken aback by the kind action. The jacket was deliciously warm and she absent-mindedly pulled it closer around herself, revelling in the feeling of being taken care of by him for just a moment. "Thanks." She responded softly.
At his question, she took a deep breath, trying to figure out how she was going to word this. "Okay, um..." She looked around for a moment, pursing her lips. "I need to say something. And I'm not good at this stuff, so maybe it'll suck and then you can tell me to go away and I will. But I need you to hear me out before you do." She shuffled slightly on her feet, anxiety gnawing at her stomach, but her resolve unshaken. "So, I majorly fucked up. You trusted me and I threw that away like it was nothing." She frowned, shaking her head. "And the worst part is that it wasn’t nothing. I took what you said seriously, I just snapped. I was so angry at her and… and jealous." She sighed, closing her eyes for a moment, knowing that her cheeks were flushing slightly. "That’s so embarrassing to admit. Like, normally I wouldn’t have been that threatened, but then she's also more experienced than I am, and my guess is that if she wanted to sleep with you, she wouldn't be batting you away at every opportunity like I am."
Kitty looked up to meet his eyes, nervous that the admission had been a step too far in the direction of unimpressing him rather than apologising, but feeling compelled to say it regardless. “And I lost it.” She shrugged, her brows knit together. “But I meant what I said before, I’m not that person. Or maybe I am, but I don’t want to be. I don’t know why, but you make me want to not be a total bitch all the time. So it makes it so much worse that I was a bitch to you, and I’m sorry. Like, genuinely sorry. I’m not saying this so you’ll want to get back to what we were doing before, I get it if you don’t. Lord knows I wouldn’t. I just don’t want you to think of me as the person who steps in the shit and doesn’t own up to it. I care about the fact that I hurt you. And I’m sorry.”
She exhaled as she finished, watching him for a moment, relieved to have gotten it off her chest. Taking a deep breath, she nodded quickly, clearing her throat. “So, uh, that’s it. I’ll go now.” She murmured, turning on her heel and taking a step back towards the front door.
Hunter The shock in Kitty's face at him slipping the jacket on her wasn't lost on Hunter, and whilst he was definitely annoyed with her, he wasn't a total asshole. He had sleeves on underneath, there was no way he was going to let her freeze. He still cared about her after all. That didn't just vanish because they were in an awkward place. She looked tiny all wrapped up in it, and for a moment he let himself get lost in the view and he wondered what she'd look like swimming in his shirt instead. He was quick to snap himself out of any thoughts along those lines though as her voice once again broke his mini reverie.
Hunter was fully prepared to be bombarded with a bunch of reason why he had messed up, that Kitty wasn't going to be phased or bothered by what had transpired. So it was his mouth that fell open in surprise this time around. There were multiple points in her apology where he wanted to interject in some way - to ask what made her feel jealous, why she thought her experience (or more so lack of) mattered to him at all, that he noticed she mentioned considering it - but instead he let her finish. It was clear that if he stopped her in any way, that it would've been the end of her brief act of courage. His features softened as he looked at her, processing everything that was said, a huge rush of emotion coursing through his chest with every word.
It still wasn't great, the way that she handled things. But it was clear that she wasn't proud of them. And what stood out the most was that he was important enough to her in some way for her to step out of her comfort zone in order to try and mend it in some way. It was endearing, and Hunter was well aware how big a deal it was. Things were happening too quickly though, and as quickly as she'd appeared in front of him, she was disappearing.
Without taking a moment's thought, Hunter was desperately stepping forward to stop her. "Kit..." He began, his hand reaching to take hers and halt her movements to retreat. "Wait.." He all but pleaded as he tugged gently to try and get her to turn back around and face him again. At the same time, he closed the gap between them some by taking his own step forward. "I don't care about experience. And I'm not looking anywhere else. What I do care about is the way you make me look forward to the next time I see you, or speak to you. The rush of excitement I get when you tease to the point that I want to explode, but am so goddamn willing to do it again the next day, no hesitation." Taking a deep breath, he willed himself to say what he truly meant. "I don't want it easy and assured, I want you."
Kitty Kitty's heart momentarily stopped when she felt Hunter's hand in hers, a wholly alien feeling. She allowed him to tug her and her breath hitched as she turned around to face him, eyes wide at his sudden proximity. His hand was much larger than hers and slightly rougher, but so warm, and she couldn't help the way she felt her fingers curl around his, not even having the capacity to worry about him noticing. She had expected to return to the party, to make some excuse to Dottie and everyone else about needing to be up for some event the next day, and gone home to agonise over this situation once again. She hadn't expected Hunter to stop her and say all of this.
As she listened, she pressed her lips together, the rushing feeling in her veins highlighting how anxious she felt, yet how exhilarating this all was. Every word he said made her heart hammer in her chest, and she had to steady herself to stop from sighing in relief at certain points. To hear that he wasn't looking anywhere else was staggering, and she struggled to think of what to make of that. This was a far cry from the detached guy who just wanted to get into her pants that she'd convinced herself that he was, and it was so good. As he explained himself further, she involuntarily leaned into him slightly, wanting to hear more, wanting to be closer to him, even if she couldn't totally explain it herself.
At his final admission, she paused for a moment, head tilted up to watch him as she took it all in. She hadn't even realised that this was everything she'd been wanting to hear from him this whole time. Taking a deep breath, she looked down at their hands, still entwined together, her thumb absent-mindedly drifting over his fingers. "I want you too." She surprised herself at the words murmured, and looked back up to meet his eyes. "As much as I hate to admit it, I really do."
Hunter If Hunter had stopped for even a second longer, he would've found a way to convince himself not to be so vulnerable. He would've shut down and closed himself off the same way that he had so many times before. As soon as it was no longer a fun game of chase and catch, he would leave. It would've been safe, and he wouldn't have felt so raw - like the entire curtain could be pulled down at any moment leaving him completely in the lurch. It was still completely plausible for Kitty to turn around and say that she was kidding, yet here he was regardless, throwing any and all caution to the wind. It was terrifying, yet exhilarating all at once and he'd never before been so prepared to just do it anyway.
A flicker of a smile washed over Hunter's feature's in relief at Kitty's response, though he was quick to compose himself from the momentary slip. He still wasn't desperate at the end of the day, he needed to maintain his composure, even if in reality Kitty most certainly had him anywhere that she wanted him. He was so far gone already it was crazy, yet he welcomed it all the same. The reassurance had him releasing a breath he wasn't even aware he was holding. She wanted it too.
In another rush of emotion at the confirmation he wasn't the only one who wanted this, Hunter couldn't help but find himself lurching forward. Any other point he would've hesitated, ensured that he wasn't being hasty in a choice. A non-consentual kiss was never the right move to make, and maybe this still wasn't, but he moved as if on autopilot as he lips crashed against hers - his free hand moving to cup her cheek at the same time. It had been a long time coming, something that he had thought about many times before now and just hadn't ever had the courage to do. But boy did it feel good.
Kitty Her last admission had been something of a shock to herself, so she couldn't imagine how it had been to Hunter, despite the fact that he had made the very same admission moments before. This was uncharted territory; sure, these weren't exactly declarations of love, but they held an intensity that the two had never shared before. It was a stark contrast to teasing fingers on arms and whispered innuendos and unacknowledged sexual tension. Suddenly, she felt so exposed, unable to hide behind the façade of this being a game, the façade that she just liked the attention and was humouring him because he was attractive. He now understood how much she wanted him back; the rules had forever changed.
The vulnerability was overwhelming as she looked up at him, her eyes tracing each one of his strong features in the dim light. They'd been this close before, but this felt different. Maybe it was the apology, maybe it was the shared confessions, maybe it was the leather jacket that hung on her shoulders like she wished his arms would. But when he leaned down and pressed his lips against hers, it seemed to her that it was the most inevitable thing that could've possibly happened in that moment. Not to say that it didn't sweep her off her feet; her heart raced and her eyes immediately flew shut as she revelled in the feeling that she'd wanted for weeks. Every time he'd come close to her, every time he'd leaned in, every time his hand had touched any part of her, this is what she'd wanted. It was dizzying to have it now.
As his hand came to cradle her cheek, she leaned up into the kiss, grateful for the little bit of extra height that her shoes gave her in this instance, although it was hardly enough to make them level with each other. Without much instruction from her mind, one hand fell on his arm, her other hand reaching forward and her fingers drifting over the fabric of his shirt at the top of his stomach. She had never had the courage to touch someone else like this before, even if her touch was light and tentative, but it felt so right. Sighing into the kiss, she felt emboldened, and let her fingers grip onto his shirt and slowly pull him forward, bringing him closer to her, her brain working on autopilot, just wanting to disappear into him.
Hunter There was no going back now, not to the harmless flirting and teasing comments to see if the which party was going to crack first. They had their answer, though at the same time there wasn’t really any telling of which one it was still. Was it the apology from Kitty that sent things over the edge? Was it the fact that Hunter had blurted out feelings he never would have dreamed of in the past? Was it the reciprocation of Hunter’s words from Kitty? Or was it the fact that Hunter couldn’t help but lean in for the first kiss? There were many ways to paint the situation, but however either would try, there’d be no knowing for certain. It was just as important to Hunter, and just as special all the same though. Had he thought about this moment? Absolutely, many times. Was it as breathtaking as he pictured? Without a doubt. It made him question why he’d waited so long to in the first place. Deep down he already knew that answer though; this was never really a game that ended any other way. He welcomed it with open arms.
If Hunter took a moment, he could taste the remnants of the alcohol she drank just minutes ago before coming outside. The taste being his new favourite thing. Her lips were pillow soft, just as he expected them to be and he already knew that he was hooked. Hunter refused to pull back, doing what he could to keep Kitty as close as he possibly could by wrapping his now free arm around her waist to pull her that ever closer. Hunter knew that close would never be close enough the longer he was in her proximity, and the desire for more didn’t dissipate in the slightest. There was a need to take a breath though, so when the urge grew too strong, Hunter pulled back. Not all of the way, but enough to take a second to catch it before he missed the feeling. When he closed the small gap this time, it was softer, allowing him to really take in the moment before distancing once again, his forehead pressed to hers tentatively.
“You win this round, Wilde.” He mumbled with a soft chuckle, his eyes closed as if opening them would break the moment. He still didn’t step away, or release the grip he had on her waist though. All he wanted to do was lean in once more, but he refrained this time; if he started once more, he wasn’t sure he was able to stop and even though that thought alone was terrifying, he was more than aware of just how true it was. “I missed you.” He admitted softly, finally opening his eyes to look down into the eyes that he could so willingly get lost in. This time when he took in how she’d dressed tonight, he drew his bottom lip between his teeth. “If you wore that to show me what I was missing-“ he began, eyes wandering a little more freely again, “-I sure as shit knew what I was already.” It was intended as a light hearted humour, though there was most certainly a truth to his words.
Kitty The dull thud of music from inside the party that had followed Kitty outside had faded into silence, and she was so grateful to the almost complete darkness for eliminating any visual distractions too. She could sense everything to its fullest, from the feeling of his warm lips against hers, as thrillingly unfamiliar as they were comforting, and his smell, not easily attributed to one thing in particular but so potent and familiar from the hours she had spent around it without touching. He was everywhere around her, his arm strong as it held her to him, and she couldn't help but run her fingers over it, trying to memorise every inch of it. She didn't know what was going to come next, whether this would be their last kiss or, as she hoped, the first of many. She didn't know if this would be the most they would ever do, or if there would be more of something in the future. Being this close to Hunter, feeling the rush of desire to be even closer, had reawakened this question in her mind, one that didn't need much thought right now, but would probably demand an answer eventually.
As Hunter pulled away, Kitty had to snap herself out of the instinct to follow him, suddenly realising that she needed a breath as well. It was so easy to forget herself in him. As he drew closer to her again, she greeted his second kiss with a soft smile, melting into it as her hand tentatively moved upwards over his chest and landed on his neck, holding him there for a moment. As the kiss ended, her eyes opened slowly, and she looked up at him, her smile widening slightly at his words. She took advantage of this moment with his eyes closed to take in all of his features, allowing herself to revel in how mind-bendingly gorgeous he was. At his whispered confession, she felt her stomach flutter with butterflies, the familiar nauseous feeling she felt whenever he said things like that returning to her. It was also just such a relief. To know that he had wanted to see her as much as she'd wanted to see him. "I missed you too." She breathed back, leaning her forehead against his, finding it just a little bit easier to be candid than she had before.
She couldn't help the grin that graced her face at his comment, leaning back slightly to give him a better view of the outfit. She rolled her eyes playfully, moving her hands up to his shoulders. "And if I told you that I picked this dress right after Dottie let slip that you'd be here, would that go to your head too much?" Her voice was teasing, a faux-innocent look on her face. She was revelling in the glow of the moment, and if she were less cool, less composed of a person, she'd almost certainly be giggling like a schoolgirl. "I hope not, Lord knows your ego's already too big after that kiss.
Hunter If anyone has asked Hunter how he thought the night was going to be before he left for Dottie’s party, there was no way in hell that he was ever guessing it was going to pan out so well. He’d expected to attend for Dottie’s sake, get drunk and then bail at the first chance. Whilst he didn’t know the other girl overly well, she was nice and he believed everyone deserved to be special on their special day, but he was also well aware of the people who were likely to be in attendance. Maybe that was really the reason he’d been so happy to provide all of the alcohol for the evening, to force himself to go. Whatever it was, it had turned out to be a smart goddamn decision. She missed him too. He was absolutely beaming on the inside, there was nothing that could’ve happened, or been said or done to throw the night off from here on out; and he was incredibly grateful for that. Never in a million years had he thought that Kitty actually cared whether or not he was present in her life, and yet here she was admitting it. Hunter held on a little tighter, not out of being afraid to. But he simply didn’t want to.
It felt good being able to tease her again, without worrying about her coming back with something that would shut him down immediately, and kind of hurt. “But you know the ego is well deserved, don’t deny it now. I got you out here all to myself.” Moment by moment, bit by bit, he was breaking through the layers of Kitty and each new thing was just as thrilling and exciting as the last. He knew their little bubble would have to be broken again very soon when she’d have to go back to her obligations of performing, but for now he was perfectly content right where they were.
Hunter’s mouth fell agape in pleasant surprise upon hearing that she’d still sought out ways to grab his attention even when they hadn’t exactly been in the best place. The fact that she’d chosen an outfit with him in mind; even if it were specifically to torture him, was one that had his ego inflating like a helium balloon. “I would say it absolutely would,” he began with a small nod of his head, “if it weren’t for the fact that I was already well aware I’m a pretty big deal.” Once again checking her out, he hummed playfully. “Mm, I’m not sure if this is your color. I much prefer what you had on at dinner.”
Kitty Kitty couldn't and wouldn't hide the grin on her face, all notions of being unbothered and 'hard to get' gone in an instant. He'd gotten her, they both knew that. Whatever that actually meant remained to be seen, but there was no use pretending that she wasn't here for any reason other than the fact that this was something that she wanted. The butterflies in her stomach showed no signs of slowing down, and she figured she'd have to get used to them pretty quickly if she were going to be around Hunter a lot more. His words rang in her ears. All to himself. If that didn't encapsulate what was going on in that moment, she didn't know what would.
"Mmm, there it is. That ego." She shook her head disapprovingly. "Honestly, you're acting like a super hot girl in a red dress with a celibacy vow just admitted she wants you in a way she absolutely shouldn't." Her voice was low, her eyes sparkling in the dim light, her head tilted so that her lips just drifted over his as she spoke. Now that it was out in the open, there was no point in denying the fact, even if she still felt the pull of anxiety in her chest. She was still confident in her ability to hold her own, and in Hunter's gentleness; something told her that he was a safe person to be around in that regard, which meant that it was safe to talk about. She knew that she couldn't guarantee anything to him; her relationship with intimacy was tumultuous at best, no matter how much she was discovering she actually craved it. Yet it occurred to her all the same that maybe it wouldn't matter to him so much.
At his mention of the dinner, she shook her head, letting out a laugh as one hand flew up from his shoulder and rested a couple of fingers gently on his lips. "No, we don't talk about that God-awful dress. Or that God-awful dinner." She took a deep breath, pulling her fingers away from his lips, loving the way they tingled slightly at the intimacy of the touch, letting her hand fall flat on his chest. "I've made it my life's mission to protect my peace from my parents' bullshit, and I'm extending that to this." She emphasized the last word by tapping her fingers on his chest, shrugging a shoulder. "Whatever this is."
Hunter There it was again, the back and forth that he had missed so greatly over the last few weeks. The flirtatious banter that was equal parts thrilling, and terrifying in the way he was addicted to it. He'd seen her since, of course; at that god awful dinner that couldn't have gone worse if they tried. But this? This was different. It was better. "An admission that was long overdue if you ask me." With her lips so close to his own, it would've been so easy to lean in once more, and a part of him wanted to. But he'd already been the one to make that move once tonight, now it was his turn to find some sort of way to get her to instead... even if he was failing miraculously in the moment.
Hunter couldn't help the smile that played on his lips at Kitty's laugh. It was a sound that he knew he would never grow tired of, especially when he was the cause of it. The young man didn't think he was funny in a general sense, but that just made it all the more special that he could do that for her. At being told not to bring up the dinner again, Hunter put on a playful pout, "So you don't want to talk about the fact that I was the first boy in your bedroom?" That was still something that had been on his mind. How she could be so open to him and yet so cold at the same time. "I would've been far happier if we'd been some place alone and not in a house with both of our parents. But I guess beggar's can't be choosers."
It did lead to the question of how they would manage things in the future. If anything continued at all, of course. There was no telling that right now, but it was definitely going to be something to work on and navigate. Hunter was in no denial that it was his father that had messed things up astronomically, yet he would still always be in the middle of any of the businesses mess, there wasn't really any avoiding it. Still, he did his best not to dwell on it in the moment. He was there, with Kitty, and he was happy. They were at a party and they were having fun, all of the serious stuff could wait for a later date. Right now all he wanted to focus on was the feeling of her hands on him, and the way she felt wrapped up in his arms, free of anything else in the moment. "Protecting our peace." He hummed, letting out a content breath. "Whatever this is."
Kitty She knew he was right. Not only had she been awful at hiding it, but hiding it was starting to feel more and more obsolete. Part of it, of course, was her own pigheadedness and pride, a refusal to admit that he'd gotten so deep under her skin, but there was also a personal tentativeness to admit that this was ever something that she could explore. "And if we're honest, I never really needed to say it for you to know it's true." She replied back in a whisper, feeling her pulse hammer against her neck, feeling sparks all throughout her body at her candidness. This new territory was still somewhat intimidating, but so thrilling nonetheless.
At his mention of her bedroom, she grinned despite herself, chuckling slightly. "You should know, my mom chewed my ear off for that for an hour after dinner. I had to come up with some excuse about you wanting to see the backyard from my window. She didn't buy it." She shrugged nonetheless. "But it's true, you were. It's a shame I couldn't give you a proper tour." She murmured, a smirk creeping onto her face. At his mention of being alone, she felt giddy. They'd spent time together without other people there, but never truly alone. Aside from those few minutes in her childhood bedroom, but nobody was going to count that as a meaningfully intimate moment. She took a deep breath, running her hands back up to the back of his neck. "We will be." She replied simply.
At his words, she let a genuine smile wash over her face; not a grin or a smirk, but one that reached her eyes. The stuff with her dads was so complicated and, in some ways, ridiculous, but it was so far away and faded into the back of what was happening now. He was there with her, and he was holding her, and it was so perfect. The way he said 'our' made her exhale in a rush of emotion, and she slowly leaned up, tentatively pressing her lips against his again. She held him to her by the back of his neck, kissing him slowly and softly. Feeling a little bit bolder, she deepened the kiss, her fingers reaching up to bury themselves in the hair above his neck, her body flushed so warm against his. Every sense was so heightened, her eyes closed as she took in every way she could feel him. In a daze, she pulled away after a moment, keeping her face close to his, pushing the boundaries of her ability to be on her tip-toes to do so. "I should go." She breathed reluctantly. "The break was only supposed to be ten minutes, it's been at least half an hour." Despite her words, she didn't move straight away, instead looking up at him in the dim light, trying to hide a smile at the scarlet lipstick that now streaked across his lips, wanting to laugh out loud at how endearing she found it.
Hunter There was no doubt that Hunter was a little shocked by the fact that her mother had known that he had been in her room, and he admittedly did a poor job at hiding it. It made the young man wonder if Alyssa had put some sort of camera or something in the room to be privy to whatever was going on in there at all times, especially given the way things had been when they had come back to the dining room. It was chaos, there'd hardly been any time to even say goodbye as he'd been dragged out the door by his parents. Not that he was really sure he would've gone out of his way to at the time, things had been awkward at best, and Brock hadn't elaborated any further on why there had been such a turn of events. Still, he couldn't help but lift a brow at the excuse she'd given. He'd thought she would've come up with something better than that.
He didn't have much time to say anything back though as Kitty leaned in for another kiss. It was nice to have her be the one to instigate this time around, knowing that for sure it was something that she wanted just as much as he did, and he couldn't help but smile against her lips. As she deepened the the kiss, Hunter happily obliged, the hold he had on her tightening some in the need to have her closer. There was something that told him that close wasn't ever going to be close enough, but he still tried anyway. He paid attention to everything, the feeling of having her in his arms, how she seemed to fit perfectly right there in that moment. The feel of hers lips on his and the way they moved as if completely in sync. Almost as if practiced a hundred times before. It was euphoric, and Hunter had to fight the urge to complain when she inevitably pulled away once again.
He knew that she'd need to go back inside eventually, but that didn't stop the disappointment that washed over him nonetheless. Physically fighting back a pout, Hunter nodded his head. "Jeff will be going crazy inside no doubt." He sighed, knowing the fellow Warbler took things like this incredibly seriously, despite generally being a little too care free. Leaning down once more, he pressed a gentle kiss to Kitty's cheek before dropping his arms to let her go. "I'll be watching in the crowd." He smiled. "You know, the super sexy guy in the back." As he watched her disappear back inside the house, he noticed his jacket still slung around her shoulders. Had she taken it on purpose, or simply forgotten that she had it on? Either way, a smirk found his features. She could keep it.
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inkedmyths · 2 years ago
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S2: E4 "Children Shouldn't Play With Dead Things"
Brought to you by I FINISHED THE QUARTER I'M ALIVE THANK GOD
This episode featuring: Don't cry and drive, interrogating the grieving, stupid men making bad decisions, and lessons that I'm SURE will be taken to heart
Ohhh this chick having a breakup or a death or something and this guy gets her alcohol and chocolate and emo rock. Thats so nice
Whshsgsg did she climb out the window
DONT TEXT AND DRIVE
Or call and drive and yeaaaah thats what I thought
[ Kayla inquires about this, and I amend it to being a sobbing mess while at the wheel. Kayla then goes on a continuous tangent about how much she's cried while driving. Friends, if you're reading this, please be aware that Kayla is not a model for any behavior you should be exhibiting. ]
Oh their dad's necklace on their mom's grave. Ah :(
Ohhh its a dead tree so spooky. What are you looking at Dean
Ooookay the dead grass circle is actually spooky. Uh?
Sam neither you or Dean are doing any kind of coping
[ Kayla says that if they were, we wouldn't have a show. ]
NOOOO GOD NOT THE HARASSING PEOPLE WHO JUST HAD SOMEBODY DIE
I get its for the job but :(
GOD THIS POOR DUDE IS LIKE. HES SO SO SAD BC HIS DAUGHTER DIED and then Dean's like "Yeah yeah so do you ever feel like she's still ~present~ orrrr" and Sam's clearly glaring at him to STFU
Traumedy at its finest
[ Theres some discussion now on Dean and how he handles things, due to how he was raised and his position as the Older Brother. Basically, he handles things badly, for a variety of fucked up reasons. This isn't news. ]
Sam is, in this case, right. But Dean is going to continue repressing!
Oh hey is this the best friend guy?
Or the bf?
OH THAT PLANT JUST DIED
Boi you're so dead
Ohhh spooky reflection
Oh he deeaaaad shooocker
Dean. What are you doing.
IDIOT
Dean has now ended up with a sad crying girl and he's sitting there with the clear expression of someone SO not equipped with what's happening
This is why you don't break and enter. You end up being faced with emotions.
Dean being such a brat but when is he not
COLLEGE EMPLOYED GRIEF COUNCILORS
Every new thing they impersonate is funnier than the last
Except maybe the priests. Idk if anything will top that
[ Kayla says it will. I am delighted by this. ]
Ok I was right the guy was her bf and was cheating
Grave digging. Of course. I get it but also Why
[ Kayla says something in spoiler text, and Aspen says to stop posting easy to click spoilers. Kayla says to stop clicking the spoilers. How do you think I feel? You people will have paragraphs of spoiler discussion. Right in front of my salad. ]
EMPTY COFFIN??
Oh shit there she is
Wh
I mean. Ok. Make out with a dead girl. Yeah. I mean I guess I would assume I'm dreaming but also man doesn't that raise any red flags my dude.
Also Sam yelling at Dean so true
Zombie??
Dude? Red flags?
OHHH
OHHHHHH THIS MOTHERFUCKER
I seeeeeeeee I seeeeeeee
He resurrected her bc he wanted her back
[ Kayla and Melon discuss the existence of zombies in SPN. I mostly ignore it. ]
Ohhhh oh the roommate
Uh oh girl!!
UH OH GIIIIRL
Ohhh thats scary as shit but epic
"Damn that dead chick can run"
[ Melon asks if I'm going to watch another episode, even though I'm in the middle of this one. Heathen. ]
[ Mom then interrupts to try and get me to try some foundation. I protest. Kayla says the phrase "dolled up for Dean", and Melon follows it up with "dressed up for daddy", and I immediately begin planning on ways to send them both to an early grave. Why am I friends with these people. ]
WHATS IN THE BAG BITCH
Ooooh bitch you did this you resurrected her
Ohhh you're so dead you're so stupid
OHHH SHE JUST STRAIGHT UP SNAPPED HIS NECK
Luring her in I see
Not a vengeful spirit but something turned angry and dangerous because someone decided to fuck around and find out
WHSHSHS something a little funny about Sam running from some chick in a nightgown
What's dead should stay dead! Correct Dean! Hope you all take that to heart
Don't tell me anything bc I'm already so sure they don't
There's 15 seasons and these guys love to fuck around and find out. What's a little necromancy
Pulling over? Whatcha doing. Getting out to yell at the void
Oh shit is Dean Winchester APOLOGIZING? (gasp)
[ Kayla says he actually does that quite frequently, due to generally being apologetic for committing the crime of existing. This is a fair assessment. ]
Its not your fault buddy... you couldn't have controlled what your dad did. You never could.
Oh my god men crying
---
Dean continues to do bad at feelings. Sam is only marginally better because at least he's addressing that there are feeling being had. Anyways, don't resurrect people, they come back Wrong, and I'm suuuure this is so totally a lesson that the Winchesters are taking to heart and therefore will definitely not be attempting any necromancy at all in the future.
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soulmate-game · 3 years ago
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Daughter of wonderwoman au where marinette finds out her mother is actually Diana and somehow it ends up with her meeting/being introduced to the batfam maybe because she has super strength and is seen yeeting some bad guys who tried to mug her... Or something.
“... you are running from your problems, Mari,” Adrien’s exasperated voice reminded his best friend. Again. She ignored him, and he threw his hands up in exasperation. “Look, you don’t have to do anything about it! Nobody would hold it against you if you decided to just, ignore that you found anything out at all. But you need to actually think about what we just found out and decide whether or not you’re gonna do anything—“ he side-stepped a piece of trash that went flying in his direction. “—or if you’re gonna move on and pretend nothing happened.”
“Isn’t that what I’m doing?” Marinette shot back, pushing her bangs out of her face and tying her hair back with one hand.
“No, you’re currently hiding away in Gotham to avoid your parents while you beat up every random group of idiots who thinks you’re an easy mark,” he retorted. Another wannabe kidnapper went flying in his direction, making him sigh and side step again. She had thrown that one with only her one free hand, showing just how upset she was. “You’re ignoring everything in your life, which is not what we meant we said you should get a little space.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Marinette dropkicked the last criminal into unconsciousness before stepping back and putting her hands on her hips. She looked over at the now seven passed out men in the alleyway, and the one very frustrated ex-model pinching the bride of his nose. “I think I’m coping just fine.”
“It’s better than being forced to suppress all of your emotions, sure,” Adrien reluctantly agreed. “But not by much. Your angry rampage through Gotham has already attracted more attention,” he raised his hand to point at a nearby rooftop. Several shadows lurked there, looming over the building’s edge. “Which, might I add, is exactly why I told you not to come to Gotham.”
“You’re the one who followed me here,” she shot back before turning to the shadowy figures above them. “Go ahead and come down! But it was self defense, and you can’t arrest or beat me up for defending myself!”
The first figure to drop down straightened your just as quickly, revealing the imposing figure of none other than Batman himself. The little white eyes on his cowl seemed to narrow on their own as he looked down at her.
“That might be true, but I’m sure you know my policy on metas in my city,” he grumbled back at her. He wasn’t necessarily threatening, but he definitely wasn’t welcoming either. With all of his limbs hidden behind the cocoon that was his cape, Marinette would never be able to predict his next move if he did decide to fight. Not that she seemed particularly worried about that as she crossed her arms over her chest and met his glare evenly.
“Oh, do you own this city now? I wasn’t given the memo,” she retorted. “And considering I didn’t even know I was a meta until last week? I think I deserve a little slack. I’m angry and if people think the tiny little girl in pink is an easy kidnapping target, then it’s their fault for making themselves into the perfect practice dummies for me to try out my newly discovered strength on.”
Adrien saw the eyes on Batman’s mask narrow even further. Marinette wasn’t exactly at her most charismatic at the moment, and Adrien didn’t wanna get the both of them into a bad relationship with the experienced superhero who always seemed to know things he shouldn’t know. So he stepped up quickly, getting in between Marinette and the Bat and holding his hands up in a placating gesture.
“Okay, Monsieur Batman,” Adrien started slowly, making sure his posture was impeccable and his smile bright. “She’s telling the truth, even if she’s not... the most tactful about it right now. She just found out some very concerning things about her origin and Gotham is the best place for her to hide from her problems and let loose a little pent up aggression. But— well,” he grimaced. “We didn’t intend to run into you guys, but maybe it’s a good thing we did.”
“How so?” Batman was clearly still incredibly suspicious of the both of them and wasn’t giving an inch. So Marinette rolled her eyes (she was still very moody) and leaned around Adrien so she could get a good look at the monochromatic hero.
“I thank my lucky spots that we ran into you, Batman!” She said monotonously. “Me and Adrien are paw-sitively excited at this opportunity.”
Batman. Froze.
Not only were those two lines the very first lines ever spoken to him by two foreign heroes a few years ago (with a few key words changed to protect identities), but they had become their code phrase for whenever they made calls to one another outside of their costumes. All at once it seemed to hit him— the golden hair and bright green eyes on the boy, the blue-black hair and normally super-focused bluebell eyes on the girl that were currently sporting very uncharacteristic frustration. Their heights. Their builds. All of this info flowed through his mind and compared to the information stored in his memory, and it only took the span of two seconds for everything to click.
Suddenly Batman was at full attention, back straight instead of looming over them and eyebrows clearly raised high under his cowl.
He knew Chat Noir and Ladybug would never take a random vacation to Gotham. Ladybug herself had nearly waxed poetic about how much the city depressed her just from the pictures she saw online. If she had willingly come to visit, it was more than to just blow off some steam.
“Batcave?” He asked, earning a relieved look from Adrien and a moody silence from Marinette.
“Please,” Adrien agreed. “You can probably help us, actually.”
—*—*—*—*—*
Marinette leaned back in the metal debriefing chair, legs up on the table and looking for all the world as the picture of pure teenage rebellion and angst. Coincidentally, Red Hood was in the exact same position in the chair next to her.
Batman and all of his other bats and birds were in the cave with the two off-duty Parisian heroes. Everyone except Adrien and Marinette still had their masks on, since the two Parisians were still not privy to their identities. Yet.
To be fair, the bats hadn’t known the identities of the two miraculous users either before today.
“Cha Noir,” Batman started, only to get a head shake from the blond boy.
“Just call me Adrien. Chat’s out of the bag—“ he ignored the groans at the pun and soldiered on, “—so might as well use my real name.”
Batman nodded. “Adrien, then,” he amended. “Why are you and Ladybug really in Gotham?”
Adrien sighed. “I wasn’t lying, before. Marinette,” he gestured to his hero partner. “Just found out some distressing family news. Since HawkMoth is gone, she doesn’t need to repress her negative emotions anymore. But she also didn’t want to be around her parents while she processed everything. I told her to choose any other city— really, I begged— but she insisted on coming to Gotham.”
“The never ending cloud cover and constant rain seem thematic,” she finally spoke up, reaching into her big over-the-shoulder bag and pulling out a large envelope. She threw it to Batman, making the thin package slice through the air like a knife. To nobody’s surprise the seasoned hero easily caught the projectile between two fingers. He looked at the envelope and back to Marinette, silent questions floating in the air between them. Marinette decided to answer at her own pace.
“That’s what we found out. You see, one of my friends is a huge science nerd. A genius. And he wanted to compare DNA samples between us to see if there were any genetic components that determined a person’s suitability towards certain Miraculous or other magical artifacts over others. It was supposed to just be a fun side project that he didn’t expect any breakthroughs on. He mostly just wanted to satisfy his own curiosity. But instead of finding out if our DNA was linked to the miraculous, he found out that my parents are not biologically my parents.”
“Hence the whole just finding out that you’re a meta thing, right?” Nightwing spoke up, fully invested in the story. “Did they never say you were adopted before?”
“It’s not in the system,” she replied easily. “My parents have all the documentation to prove that I’m their biological child, except I’m not. When I confronted them about it, they caved and admitted that they had adopted me in secret and covered it up. Apparently a friend of theirs was involved in something illegal, and,” she waved at the envelope that Batman was now opening. “The details of what we were able to dig up are in there. The summary is this; their friend was part of a secret, illegal experimentation to create clones that could defeat the Justice League—“ the air seemed to get sucked out of the room as soon as those words left Marinette’s mouth. Everyone seemed to know exactly what she was talking about. “—a group called CADMUS. They made me, as apparently one of their early attempts. But I didn’t exhibit any of the powers they were looking for, or any meta traits at all, and my body refused to mature at the rate they wanted. They had no use for a seemingly normal human baby that they managed to clone, so they were preparing to kill me and start over. That’s when my parent’s friend stole me, not wanting to kill an infant, and begged my parents to take me in and pretend I was theirs. Low and behold, it turns out that my DNA just needed a very specific series of emotions to unlock it’s latent abilities.”
“Those emotions being..?” Red hood trailed off, earning a wolfish smile from Marinette.
“Intense anger, betrayal, and confused frustration closely followed by the desire to punch other people’s faces in.”
“That last one is just an assumption,” Adrien chimed in. “And maybe not accurate. But the first three, our scientist friend was able to confirm. The rapid experience of a lot of negative but action-oriented emotions released whatever had been holding back the powers in her DNA from expressing themselves,” he had switched to French so that he could explain everything exactly as Max had told it to them, but he knew all of them were fluent anyway so it was fine. They nodded along, processing the information.
The crinkling of paper drew everyone’s attention back to Batman, who had been flipping through the detailed break down of everything they had found about Marinette’s situation and how she was made by CADMUS.
“Uh,” Red Robin nervously spoke up. “What’s up, Batman?”
“Your genetic donors...” Batman breathed, getting a wink and finger guns from Marinette.
“Yup. Isn’t that just the most fucked up thing you’ve ever seen? They were clearly trying to make someone who could destroy the world.”
“That makes me nervous,” Nightwing admitted, getting up and going to get a look at the papers himself. “It can’t be that ba—“
When even Nightwing was left agape, everyone else who wasn’t in on it found themselves squirming.
“Just tell the rest of us, already!” Robin demanded after the silence stretched just a bit too long.
“The unknowing genetic donors that CADMUS used to make me,” Marinette spoke up, still with her legs up on the table. “Are a very mad-scientist’s-wet-dream combination of Lex Luthor, Bruce Wayne, and Wonder Woman.”
“We don’t even know why they added Bruce Wayne’s DNA,” Adrien admitted. “Although our scientist friend thinks it’s because of physique. His hypothesis is that, in order to support the genes of Wonder Woman, they had to add male genetics that could support the production of a very high muscle mass and would lean towards easy development of a very athletic body. Lex might be evil-scientist smart, but he’s a string bean. But if he added the DNA of another multi millionaire who just so happens to maintain a ridiculously fit body without putting any obvious work into it,” Adrien shrugged. “Then maybe the clone would be able to support Wonder Woman’s genetics and that of two human donors without falling apart.”
“So I’m ‘the clone’ now, huh?” Marinette snarked, earning an exasperated eye roll from her friend.
Batman just stared at the both of them for a moment. He walked away without a word, and came back with a fresh needle and a box. He placed it on the debriefing table.
“Can I do a paternity test myself?” He asked, his voice suspiciously less gruff than normal. “I trust the both of you, but I rather be safe than sorry with something like this.”
The both of them just stared at him in confusion. They traded a glance, and finally Marinette shrugged and moved to sit in her chair properly. Her shirt was already short sleeved, so she just held her arm out so Batman could easily get a blood sample.
“Sure, why not. But do you just have Lex Luthor or Bruce Wayne’s DNA sitting around to compare, or—“ she shut up when she watched Batman take off his glove and roll his own sleeve up. Realization slowly sunk in as he asked Nightwing to take a blood sample from him.
“Holy shit,” she breathed, eyes wide. “You’re— and Luthor doesn’t know— holy shit this is even worse than I thought,” Marinette rambled, not even noticing as Red Hood moved forward and took a small blood sample from her.
Adrien put a hand over his face and just laughed for a moment hysterically. “Oh my god,” he looked over at Marinette. “You could take over the world.”
“I have the blood of Batman AND Wonder Woman on MY side,” Marinette joked back, also hysterical.
When the bat’s high tech equipment was able to come back with a positive result only a few minutes later, Marinette and Adrien had to sit on the floor and just let it all sink in. Which Batman did not at all help by immediately unmasking himself and trying to make a proper introduction.
“I wanna go beat up random thugs again,” Marinette whined, pulling at her hair. “I’ll put on a mask, whatever, but just please let me punch people. I need to punch people right now.”
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enhyqenn · 3 years ago
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❝ ...you’re my best friend, i’ll love you forever ❞
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pairing : jake x fem!reader
song inspiration : you get me so high - the neighbourhood
wc : 0.9k | warnings : incredibly angsty !
“ strictly the neighbourhood ” m.list
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“ya know, even after all that we’ve been through, i don’t think i ever once stopped loving you,” jake confessed, watching the waves that crashed into the cliffside. “you were always in the back of my mind, whether i realized it or not.”
blinking at his words, you stared down at your lap, feet dangling over the ledge, right thigh pressed against jake’s. after using the silence to come up with the right response, you said, “and you were always in mine, too. you consumed my mind, jake, and i hated every second of it.”
the boy next to you tipped his head back, sighing through his nose as he did. “yeah. yeah, me too.”
“why did you even come back?” the words slipped out before you could stop them, and you faced jake with a pained look, tears of frustration already beginning to well in your eyes. “you broke my heart.”
jake took his bottom lip between his teeth before he answered, reluctant to meet your gaze. “i know. and for that, i’m truly sorry, i really am. i honestly don’t know why i came back. i set foot in town and my immediate instinct was to find you. i think maybe my body knew that i wanted to make amends.”
“that’s a really shitty explanation,” you laughed, shaking your head with a disbelieving smile. “if you’re going to lie, at least come up with something plausible.”
“it’s the honest truth!” jake exclaimed, grabbing your shoulder and turning you towards him desperately. “i swear it. i don’t want to lose you, or what we had.”
your smile dropped as you looked at him, shrugging his hand off with a sour expression. “you lost me the day you decided i was no longer your number one person - the moment you left me on the side of the fucking road ‘cause i said your ‘new girl’ was using you. that was the shittiest thing to do, honestly. and all over a someone who never even looked your way, too.”
jake was silent. he knew what he had done was fucked-up, and he still didn’t know why he hadn’t turned his car around a year ago even though he desperately wanted to. well, he did know why; he wanted to impress the girl he had been crushing on for years, and the cost of dating her was you.
after he had kicked you out of the car, he had gotten a mouthful about how understanding he was, getting rid of the girl that stopped his crush from fully pursuing him. looking back, it made him sick. and long after night had fallen, you had come stomping in his house, barely passing his mother a wave before you slammed his bedroom door open and the screaming started.
somewhere in the argument you confessed your feelings for him, and he didn’t know how to properly communicate the fact that he didn’t like you the way you liked him. so he panicked, and the words came out harsher than they should have. a lot harsher.
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jake stared at you, eyes large as he processed what you meant.
blood rushed in your ears as you waited for him to respond, to tell you that he loved you too. but when he just stared at you wordlessly, eyes so clearly stating what he wasn’t, your expression warped into something different.
“forget it,” you snapped, turning to walk out of his room, but paused stiffly when he grabbed your wrist.
“‘forget it?’ you confess your feelings to me and then tell me to forget it?” jake said, his voice rising as his grip on you grew even tighter.
you glared up at him. “well you clearly don’t feel the same way, so i’m saving myself from whatever despicable rejection you’ve got in your head. now let me go.”
“fine,” jake ticked, releasing your wrist with a push. he moved around you to block the door, jabbing a finger at your chest. “but you’re going to listen to what i have to say.”
a muscle in your jaw fluttered as it locked.
“first of all, you don’t get a say in my love life. i can date whoever the fuck i want, understand? secondly, i don’t love you. never have, never will. so get over whatever feelings you have for me because i’m not returning them,” jake said, glowering at you.
teeth clenched and fists balled up at your side, you couldn’t find anything to say. if you tried to speak you were afraid of what would come out. you feared that this argument would somehow end up worse than it already was. so, exhaling, you took a step back from your supposed friend, head shaking in absolute defeat. “what is wrong with you?” the words came out with a sting.
“get out of my house,” jake said, his eyes practically blazing. “there’s no more room for you in my life.”
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“it was a mistake,” jake claimed, finally breaking the silence between you both. “i shouldn’t have done what i did.”
“there were a lot of things you shouldn’t have done,” you said plainly, lips pointed downwards as you watched a large wave crash into rock.
jake sighed, starting to get impatient with your indifferent tone. he expected you to accept his apology much quicker than this. “i’m sorry, okay? you’re still my number one person; i love you. but i’m sorry that i can’t love you the way you want me to.”
a laugh escaped your person. “are you serious? i moved on, jake. you may have been in the back of my mind, but don’t assume that the thoughts associated with you were good.”
“it was a mistake―all of it,” jake insisted again. and as he said the words he hoped that you realized that he had never meant for you to disappear from his life. it wasn’t his intention.
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tag list (open) : @hoonstrology @kawaiisharkcopjudge (couldn't tag @wonclusion )
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joaquinwhorres · 4 years ago
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Blank Out (Bucky Barnes x Reader)
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SUMMARY ››››› Bucky Barnes has a list of names–amends he needs to make. When he gets to yours, he finds the amends process a bit more…difficult than it should be.
WORD COUNT ››››› 1,700-ish
WARNINGS ››››› language
A/N ››››› Oh hey, look at me jumping on that Falcon and the Winter Soldier trend. This is the Y/N version of my OC fic. Exactly the same but for people who prefer Y/N. Lemme know if you want to join the tag list!
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Bucky stood outside of the door, staring at the wreath of brightly colored fabric leaves, a small wooden sign hanging in the center with the words Give Thanks looping across it. 
He doubted there was going to be much thankfulness for him on the other side of the door. 
He shifted his weight from one foot to the other.
This was supposed to be getting easier. Dr. Raynor told him it would get easier. 
But for someone who hated bullshit so much, she really spent far too much time talking out of her ass. Because this wasn't easy. 
Easy would be surreptitiously wiring a million dollars into each of their bank accounts from the HYDRA accounts he still had access to.
Easy would be taking out anyone who had been involved in the decision to give him the order. 
Easy would be breaking the damn rules. 
The rules aren't meant to make your life easy, James. They're meant to disconnect you from the Winter Soldier. That's the whole point of making amends, isn't it? 
He'd give anything to get her damn voice out of his head. 
Bucky propelled himself up the front porch steps before he could change his mind. Like he had last yesterday. 
He rapped on the front door, accidentally knocking the wreath sideways as he went to pull his hand away. Instinctively, he reached out to right it, centering the sign and taking his hands away slowly to avoid a repeat of the situation. Bucky checked over his shoulder, half expecting Sam's stupid little robot to Zoom into view with Sam cackling and making some dumb quip about metal butterfingers. But Redwing wasn't there. The only other person outside was an old man mowing his lawn in a dingy white undershirt and grey sweatshorts. Bucky's lip curled in disgust before turning back to the door--the sound of locks clicking out of place putting him on alert. 
"Hello?" 
Bucky blinked, his eyes meeting those of the woman before him. Her eyes were striking, pinning him to the spot and pushing all semblance of thought out of his head. 
"Can I help you?"
Bucky blinked, nodding at her. Right. He was here for a reason. Not to stand like some teenage boy who'd just seen the girl next door for the first time. 
"I'm looking for Y/N Y/L/N."
"You found her." 
He blanched. "You're Y/N Y/L/N?" 
The look of vague curiosity that had been gracing features markedly shifted into a look of annoyance. "Believe it or not, Y/N’s come in all shapes, sizes, and colors." 
Fuck this. He needed to get out of here. There was no way he could have this conversation now. 
"Still want to talk to me?" She asked, eyebrows arched and arms folded across her chest. 
No. 
Sam's laughter echoed in his head, as if he'd been here to witness the exchange. And that's why he stayed. Out of spite. 
He nodded. "My name is James "Bucky" Barnes and--"
"Wait a second," she held out a hand and raised an eyebrow on him. He did as she asked, stopping mid-sentence with a sinking feeling in his gut. "You're the Bucky Barnes?"
He nodded, resigned to the fact that this was going to be his worst attempt at amends yet. "Yeah." 
"Well," she breathed, dropping her arms. "If I'd known I was meeting an Avenger at my door, I might have put on some pants." 
His eyes ran down from her face, noticing for the first time that she wore a dressing robe that barely swept the tops of her knees. Her bare knees.
His mouth opened as if he had even the faintest clue how to respond to this and then his jaw moved up and down for a new second as if the motion of talking would bring words. While it didn't muster an apology or some other decent thing to say, he did manage to utter a single word: "Shit."
She snorted at the reaction before smiling for the first time and shaking her head. "If you want to come in and wait, I'll go get changed."
He shook his head. "I can wait out here."
She was still smiling. Probably because she realized he was far more pathetic up close. "Suit yourself, but there's eggs inside."
"I'm good," he said, forcing himself to give a tight smile that didn't reach his eyes. She nodded, leaving the door open behind her as she disappeared inside the house--as if he'd change his mind.
He should leave right now. Turn around and come back a different day when he could at least function like a mostly human being. Bucky ran a hand through his hair, scratching the back of his head. 
The quick, sharp sound of pattering bare feet broke his stream of thought, as another girl came to the door, standing before him with her hands on her hips. "We were having breakfast, you know," the girl announced, her voice dripping with sass. "Now we have to wait until she's done talking to you. And I'm starving." 
Bucky raised an eyebrow. "Shouldn't you be….not talking to strangers?"
"Shouldn't you be eating breakfast?" she countered.
"It's ten in the morning; I ate already."
"We were supposed to have breakfast an hour ago. But Ravi--"
"Rocio, leave Bucky Barnes alone," Y/N's voice called from elsewhere. 
Before he could fully process how odd it was for him to use his name, the little girl's hands dropped from her hips and she stared up at him, mouth agape and eyes comically wide. 
"You're Bucky Barnes?" she asked, her small voice awed. 
He nodded with a deep sigh and another forced smile. 
"What happened to your hair?"
"Got a haircut," he shrugged.
She furrowed her brow at him, her little eyes peering intently at his face. He wasn't sure the last time someone had looked him in the eyes this long. Nobody except Steve had looked him in the eyes since he made it out. The corner of his mouth twitched up. She nodded at him, having composed herself so her little face was serious once more. "I like this better."
"Thanks." He couldn't keep the amusement from his voice. He didn't even really try. 
A thought seemed to hit her, lighting up her whole face with excitement. "Wait right here. Don't move. Promise."  He nodded again and she raised her eyebrows at him, giving him a stern look. 
"I promise," he said, clearly stating each word.
She nodded at him. "Ok. Good." And then she turned and ran into the house, her feet making far more sound than they should for someone of her size.
Y/N reappeared shortly thereafter with a faint smile on her lips, dressed in a copper colored sweater and jeans. "Sorry. You're her favorite."
"She's cute." 
What an idiotic thing to say. 
"Wish I could take credit," Y/N said, shaking her head. "She's my sister's. I'm just the babysitter on duty."
There were some more sounds of scampering and Rocio was back at the door wearing a long black satin glove, reaching about halfway up her bicep. There were lines streaked across it in gold marker to make it look like it was made of metal plates. 
"I made an arm like yours!" she announced, almost whacking Y/N in the stomach as she extended her arm out for him to see. 
He couldn't believe what he was seeing. He'd seen Halloween costumes for sale and shirts with one of the sleeves modeled after his arm, and pictures of guys with an arm wrapped in tinfoil. All of them had been with his old arm--his silver one with the red star. The arm that belonged to Him. An arm made to invoke fear. 
This was the arm of a protector. 
She deserved more of a reaction than a small, breathy, "Wow." 
"Will you sign it?" Her eyes got even bigger if possible, and Y/N started to shake her head, bending over to talk to the little girl,  but Bucky stopped her. 
"You got a marker?"
"I'll go find one!" Rocio disappeared again, leaving him and Y/N alone on the doorstep. She was closer this time, and he could hear her talking to herself and rustling through different drawers. 
Y/N turned her attention from her niece back onto Bucky. "So, why is Bucky Barnes on my doorstep?"
"I uh--when does your sister get home?" he asked, eyes focused in the direction of Rocio's sounds. He swallowed, tearing his eyes away and back up to hers. "I should probably tell both of you...together."
The playful amusement that had been on her face disappeared as she stared at him, as if trying to see inside his head. Like she would want to see what was inside of his head. 
"She'll be here around three." 
He nodded, saved from a response by Rocio's re-appearance, waving a silver sharpie in the air. She offered it to him, and he plucked it out of her hand, taking hold of her toothpick of an arm in one hand and signing his name on the inside of her bicep. Where she could hide the signature if she wanted to.
Bucky handed the marker back to her as Rocio held her arm out, trying to catch sight of his name. 
"Rocio," Y/N prodded, gently. 
"Thank you!"  she chirped, before turning and literally skipping back inside. "Ravi--look!"
He liked her.
"That was really kind of you," Y/N said, warmly. "I think you just made her year." 
He shrugged. 
"Although, I have a feeling that this is all she's going to talk about for the next week," Y/N sighed, shaking her head. "Anyway, Lilly will be back around three if you want to come back then and share whatever secret serious news is it that you need to tell us together." Her voice was teasing, and Bucky's mouth lifted into a smirk.
"I'll be back then." 
"Great," she smiled politely. "See you then." 
He nodded, wishing her goodbye before turning down the stairs.
So much for getting easier.
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cobrakaisb · 4 years ago
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modern day romeo and juliet part 2
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read part one here!
a/n: here is the largely anticpated part two of the imagine! after getting numerous asks begging for a part two, i decided to finally publish it. sorry it took me so long besties but school and softball have been kicking my ass lately. love you all!!! 
summary: you and hawk are going strong but your friendship with sam and demetri has fallen apart, or has it. (also warning: reader gets a bloddy nose in this imagine if that bothers you in anyway don’t read)
word count: 1,711
“so are you and hawk like together now?” moon asked as the two of you walked to the cafeteria. “yeah,” you answered, a light blush coating your cheeks. “oh my gosh yes! i’m so happy for you!” she shouted, wrapping her arms around your shoulders, squeezing tightly. “thanks moon,” you replied half-heartedly. moon immediately picked up on your sad demeanor, “what's wrong?” “nothing,” you answered, giving her a fake smile. moon was going to call your bluff, but she was interrupted by hawk. “hey guys,” he greeted, pulling you into a tight hug. 
“hi hawk,” you replied, arms wrapped around his waist as he swayed you back and forth. “are you sitting with us at lunch?” he asked, looking at you. “yeah probably. your friends won’t mind right?” you asked. hawk immediately shook his head no, the two of you just staring at each other intensely. “you guys are so cute! i’ll see you later y/n,” moon announced, walking away from you and hawk. the two of you pulled apart, hands intertwined as he led you over to the cobra kai table. 
“anything from sam?” hawk asked quietly. you gently shook your head, causing hawk to frown. he placed a gentle kiss on your forehead, “she’ll come around,” he assured. “i hope so,” you mumbled as the two of you sat down at the cobra kai table. your sad mood was immediately lifted however when doug and big red started throwing napkins at you. 
“i can’t believe she’s actually sitting with him,” demetri said, appalled at the fact that you were sitting with hawk at lunch. “why wouldn’t she be sitting with hawk? they’re together now,” moon said, a happy smile on her face as she watched you laugh from your spot next to him at the cobra kai table. “i still can’t believe that. how could y/n even like someone like him?” sam asked, angrily stabbing at her lunch with a fork. moon’s eyes widened as she watched sam. “aren’t you happy for her?” moon asked, confusion clear in her voice. 
sam scoffed at moon’s words. “why would i be happy that she’s fraternizing with the enemy?” sam asked. “the enemy? do you even hear yourself?” moon asked sam, and even demetri looked surprised by sam’s words. sam was silent, shooting a sad look your way. “you regret it don’t you?” demetri accused sam, but she just remained silent, looking down at her lunch. “regret what? what did you guys do?” moon asked. 
“when we caught y/n and hawk kissing at your party a while back, we may have kicked her out of miyagi-do,” demetri mumbled, feeling ashamed by their actions. “are you kidding me!” moon yelled, causing some heads to turn, but she just shooed them off with a wave of her hand. “that’s why y/n has been so down lately? because you kicked her out of karate?” moon asked, while demetri and sam just nodded. “you guys are the worst,” she continued. “thanks for reminding us,” sam mumbled, sparing a glance at you. 
you were laughing at something that doug had said. “that’s too funny,” you mumbled between laughs. the boys just laughed at how funny you found doug’s joke, when in reality it wasn’t meant to be that funny. “i can’t believe that you’re in miyagi-do y/n. you’re nothing like those dorks,” doug said. you tensed up at his words, and hawk took immediate notice. he glared at doug, ready to tell him off, but you beat him to it. “i’m actually not in miyagi-do any more. they kicked me out,” you said sadly. the boys all looked around in embarrassment. “but it’s whatever because i have a boyfriend and all the children we adopted now,” you joked, holding up peace signs.
“what kids did we adopt?” hawk asked, confusion clear in his voice. “literally everyone here. they are all out children,” you explained, gesturing to the table full of boys. the boys all burst into laughter while hawk just wrapped his arm around your shoulders, pulling you into his side. you rest your head on his shoulder, placing a small kiss on his neck. “ew! imagine having to watch your parents do that!” doug shouted jokingly, throwing a fruit snack your way. everyone laughed at him, and soon lunch was over.        
--
“hawk! wait for me!” you shouted, walking out of the locker room dressed for gym class. hawk immediately stopped walking, waiting for you to catch up to him. “hi!” you said, giggling as he peppered small kisses all over your face. “hawk let’s go!” one of his friends yelled from up ahead. hawk grabbed your hand, intertwining your fingers, as he pulled you towards the front of his squad. 
together the group of you walked onto the soccer field. of course the boys were being confident, walking with their heads held high. you just rolled your eyes at them and their cocky behavior. “alright let’s remember to keep the aggression to a minimum due to the school’s new policy,” the gym teacher shouted as she blew the whistle signaling the start of the soccer game. 
almost immediately, sam and the other miyagi-do students were blatantly going for the cobra kai boys. you noticed that doug was about to retaliate but hawk held him back, mumbling something, which clearly calmed him down. the game continued, and hawk scored a goal. you cheered loudly for him, and he just winked at you, causing you to blush. the game went on, and each dojo was getting progressively more aggressive. you were running down the field when someone called you name, causing you to turn around. the next thing you knew, the soccer ball was flying towards your face. you didn’t have anytime to cover your face, and so you got hit in the face with the ball. 
“what the fuck!”  you shouted, hands flying up to your nose which was now gushing blood. “y/n!” hawk called from across the field, running over to you. “baby let me see it,” he demanded, pulling your hands away from your face. he removed your hands, and tilted your head back to help stop the flow of blood. “who did this?” hawk asked loudly, glaring at everyone around him. when nobody answered he shouted even louder, “who did it?” this time sam stepped forwards. “it was an accident, i swear,” she rushed, looking nervously between you and hawk. 
hawk rolled his eyes at sam, his jaw and fists clenching. “yeah i’m sure it was,” he growled, taking a threatening step towards her. “hawk!” you shouted, but he ignored you. “i-” sam started but she was cut off by hawk. “what? kicking her out of karate wasn’t enough? i get it that you guys don’t like me, but just because we’re together doesn’t mean that you should punish her for it. especially since we’re happy. don’t come near her again!” he finished, and you couldn’t help but swoon. he’s defending my honor. that’s so hot, you thought.  
after his conversation with sam, hawk took you to the nurse’s office. she just gave you an ice pack and some paper towels, before sending you back to class. you and hawk were walking to your next class when sam and demetri approached the two of you. “i thought i told you to stay away from her,” hawk said, stepping forward but you stopped him by placing your hand on his chest. hawk huffed, but stayed quiet. it was silent between the four of you, all of you just staring at each other. “was there something you guys needed?” you asked. 
demetri cleared his throat. “yeah we were hoping to talk to you. preferably without your boyfriend,” he said and hawk tried to step forward but you stopped him once again. “yeah that’s fine. i’ll see you in class babe,” you answered, kissing hawk’s cheek before shooing him away. once he walked down the hall, and was far enough away from you, you looked towards demetri and sam. “what was it that you wanted to talk about?” you asked, crossing your arms. 
“we wanted to invite you back to miyagi-do. it was wrong of us to kick you out,” sam said, not making eye contact with you. you scoffed at her words. “why should i even come back? you guys made it pretty clear that you didn’t want me there,” you said. “that’s because you’re dating hawk of all people!” sam shouted at you, and you glared at her. “sam! we came to make amends not cause more problems!” demetri interjected, glaring at the larusso girl. 
“look y/n, i’m sorry, for everything. i know that you really like hawk, and that the two of you are happy together. and,” demetri started, taking a deep breath, “if you’re happy then i’m happy for you. i understand if you don’t want to come back to miyagi-do or even be our friend, but i just want you to know that i’m sorry for everything, nose included.” you smiled at demetri’s apology. “thanks demetri, that means a lot. i don’t think that i’ll come back to karate, but i’d love it if we could try and fix our friendship,” you said, looking at him. “yeah, i’d like that,” demetri answered, a big smile on his face. 
the two of you turned to face sam, who remained silent the whole time. “i’m sorry too y/n. i never should’ve kicked you out of miyagi-do for being with hawk, especially since you guys are great together. and i’m sorry for your nose. i’ve been such a bitch to you, and i understand if you don’t accept my apology, but i would like to be friends again,” sam apologized, looking at you shyly. you smiled softly at the girl, “i’d like that.” sam smiled back at you. you all knew that things were going to be different now, and this isn’t something that you were just going to forgive and forget, but you were all willing to make amends and that’s all that matters. 
you walked into your next class, taking your seat next to hawk, with a smile on your face. “everything okay?” he asked, looking you over. “everything’s perfect,” you answered, kissing him softly.  
341 notes · View notes
liannelara-dracula · 4 years ago
Note
😭 ??
Awesome requests!
Okay, so please remember that in this situation this is towards their gf not their sacrificial bride, that would be a whole other story which I will make prompts about in the future.
This does not include the comfort they give after words
I really tried to target most of the boys past’s here and how the reader is kinda getting under their skin but she has point in doing so. Some are random tho.
Link to prompt---> HERE
Please join my diabolik lovers group chat! Link---> HERE
Read Laito Sakamaki Fanfic [Dark Theme]---> Here
Sakamaki
Shu:
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It was because you encourage him to be active one to many times and he got mad. Which honestly doesn’t happen but you got his nerves for once and he was not happy.
“You honestly shouldn’t care, it’s not your life.” He said, resting on the couch.
“Shu, it’s a good thing. Maybe at least try.” You suggested.
He looked at you only to sigh, “I’d prefer if you’d stay out of my life.” His eyes a dark hue of ocean blue as he seemed to be upset.
“Shu, I was just trying to help.” You said looking at him a bit disappointed.
“I said to stay out of it! Not quit acting like it matters to you.” He glared.
“Fine, do what you want.” You’d say before wiping your tears away and leaving the room.
Reiji:
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Reiji being Reiji, said something rude of course. Probably because you brought up his mother and that he just forgive or at least move because it would put less stress on him.
“Do you view me as foolish?”
“What? Reiji, no. I just think you should relax a bit.”
“You clearly have no business in the matter, do not tell me how I should and should not deal with things.”
“Reiji-“
“You want me to make amends with my dead mother when I revive her. How foolish, only proves you are senseless mortal. You may possess the gift of beauty but you are and forever will be mere distraction for me. Do not try to meddle with my emotions.”
You glared at him with a strong sense of anger. This was not only so insulting but he just implied you were a play thing. Realizing all of this, you had been hit by such pain, you had endured his insults before but this was the last straw. You couldn’t be passive aggressive this time.
Hurt flashed in your eyes as you shook your head, “You’re right, I’m just a pretty distraction for you but at least I’m not heartless.” You mumbled loud enough for him to hear as you pass by him.
Holding your tears in as best as you could you left to your room closing it behind you only to sob in your hands uncontrollably.
Laito:
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You knew a little bit about his past but not completely but you just wanted to understand because he never everything about you.
“Can’t you just tell me?” You say titling your head looking somewhat sad.
“Its none of your business. Please just leave it alone.” He said, his back turned you as he messed with the few picture frames in your bedroom.
“Don’t you think it’s unfair that you don’t let me hide anything from you but you hide everything from me?”
“I don’t want to talk about my mother with you.”
“I’m not asking you too. I’m just saying-“
“Damn it, can’t you just drop this! I’m sick of your concern! It’s irrating.”
“I’m irrating?” You voice cracked as tears fell from your eyes.
“Y/ N.”
“I should go.” You say dryly before leaving.
Kanato:
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You just wanted him to relax and to not throw as many tantrums. He had always been a little bit on the crazy side when something had hit him but you would have never have imagined him to get so worked up about what you said and did. So of course he raised his voice at you and told you were worthless and it didn’t help at all.
“You shouldn’t raise your voice Kanato, it’ll make you stressed.”
“Shut up! You stupid worthless mortal!” He’d say being really upset.
This of course was something you didn’t typically witness and it hurt to say the least. You suddenly felt your cheeks getting wet as you wiped them a few times before running off.
(Because Kanato is of course crazy and I have to portray him here as if he were less crazy since no one could actually did a crazy person. I mean that would just be dis-functional for the both of you.)
Ayato:
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It was at school where he didn’t win a basketball match and he was just so mad. He always wanted to be the best and he hate that you saw that game where he didn’t win.
“Ayato, it’s just a game. You can win next time.” You say, putting a hand on his shoulder, trying to reassure him.
“No it’s not.” He said shaking his head, gritting his teeth.
“Hey, I’m still proud of you.”
“NO! I’m a failure!” His fist hitting the locker next to him shocking you in surprise.
“Ayato calm down.” You say, frowning before reaching out to him.
“No you don’t understand what its like to drown because your not good enough! You think you know what it means but you don’t have a damn clue.” He gritted his teeth, not realizing he had hurt your feelings.
“You always say that but you don’t know how much it hurts to see you like this.” You mumbled before brushing passed him. A tear rolling down your cheek as you say this.
Subaru:
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It was the topic of his insecurities and him feeling like he wasn’t enough.
“You don’t want someone like me. I’m a horrible person.”
“No, no you are not.” You say, cupping his face with your heads. 
“How could you want this! I am not what you want! I am a mistake, y/n!” He moved from your touch, yelling at you in frustration. 
You looked down not knowing what to say. He kept acting like this and you weren’t sure how to reassure him anymore. Seeing him like this hurt you.
“If only you know how much it hurts to see you like this.” Your eyes glassy, a few tears flowing down your face as you felt so hopeless.
Kino:
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“Kino, please.” You pleaded, feeling so distraught.
“I can’t.” He shook his head.
You grit your teeth before losing yourself. “Damn it Kino! For once in your life could you just put me first and not your revenge!”
“You don’t understand what it means!” He ranted, through his hands up.
You glared, tears falling down your face by this point. It felt like everything was spinning. You pointed a finger at him shouting, “I gave up everything for you!”
“Y/n-”
“I-if you l-love me, t-this is the least you c-could do.” You weep before turning to leave him.
Mukami
Ruki:
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You two were both too stubborn to admit that you guys didn’t just like each other but in-fact were at the stage of loving. Even so you both had such rough pasts and things weren’t going so well because you both were digging into each other’s past. And let’s just say neither of you were ready.
“You know you can tell me anything.” He mumbled looking down with a frown.
“Ruki, you wouldn’t understand.” You shook your head.
“Why can’t you tell me?” He asked somewhat annoyed that you weren’t going to open.
“Because!” You through your arms up before continuing. “You want me to open up thinking that it’s easy but why don’t you try being the one to say it all first.”
“I’m a vampire, some of my stories are too much to share with you. You wouldn’t look at me the same.” He frowned.
“How could you say that? You don’t even know how I feel, yet you act like you do and push me away but then come in whenever you want.” Your voice wavering with a knot in your throughout.
“Y/n, I wanna help you.” He held your hand, preventing you from leaving.
You looked up at him a tear rolling down your cheek, “If you wanna help me then just let me go.”
Yuma:
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“I don’t want you to protect me.” You shook your head ignoring his worry.
He looked into your eyes, touching your cheek. “I’m a vampire only because I owe a debt to someone. I can’t burden you as much as I love you.”
“Yuma. You could never burden me.” You say with glassy eyes.
“Y/n, please just go, it’s better for you.” He turned not looking at you, in fear he’d break if he looked at you any second.
You shook your head, placing a hand on his shoulder, “I don’t care if you’re a vampire, I love you.”
“Y/n. Go now.” He gritted his teeth not wanting to deal with your stubbornness.
Tears blurred your vision, a crack in your voice as you couldn’t do this anymore. “No--how can you-”
“GO!”He yelled.
You back away a tear falling down your cheek, your mouth agape as you couldn’t believe your world had come crashing down.
Kou:
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You were being continuously bullied by his fangirls and you didn’t want to keep bothering him about it because he just seemed so busy. And everytime you did he told you it’s just something to ignore and that it’s quite normal. Here he was quite insensitive due to his past because he was used to being abused because of his beauty so he didn’t see the need to protect you. He thought you’d just forget about it.
“How is it so easy for you?” You asked, not understanding how he could do it.
“You just get over it, it’s not really that hard.” He mused, looking at the papers in front of him.
“Get over it? You act like it’s so easy.” Your voice sounding surprised as you looked at him with glassy eyes.
“Why are you getting so upset?” He asked, coming to your side now.
“You mean you haven’t seen the endless harassment at school?” You questioned somewhat upset for his ignorance. This was crushing you and he could care less.
“I have, but it just takes time. Moving on from is it is not so bad.” He shrugged.
“H-how can you say that? D-don’t you c-care at all?” Your shoulders shook as tears ran down your face.
“I do-”
“Y-you don’t know how much it h-hurts.” You stammered with tears still falling. Here he was shocked that such a confident beautiful girl could be so broken, and it was his fault.
Azusa:
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He’d always been sweet and loving but he didn’t want to burden you.
“It’s better...if I leave...you won’t worry.” He smiled weakly feeling like he had put you through to much.
“No, Azusa don’t say that.” You shook your head.
“It’s okay...you should meet...other people.” He said frowning that you didn’t want to listen to him.
“No, you are enough for me. I-I love you.” You break down in tears as you feel like you’ve hurt him.
Tsukinami
Carla:
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You two were having love issues. And opening up wasn’t Carla’s strong suit.
“Carla we can talk about this.” You frowned walking over to him.
“There’s nothing to talk about.” He ignored.
“Yes there is, because I love you and I don’t want you to be so closed like this.” You reassured him.
“Y/n, being a vampire, let alone a founder is a hard thing. You don’t need to be dragged into something like this. It’d only hurt you.” He tried to reason not wanting to burden you.
“I’ve been hurt so many times because our relationship is breaking Carla.” You justified.
“Y/N I can’t drag you into this!” Growing upset he slamed his hand on the counter.
“The only way you’d hurt me is if you didn’t tell me.” You shook your head reassuring him.
“Y/N ENOUGH!” He yelled.
“Fine.” You’re voice went quiet.
“Look it’s-” He tried to justify.
“All I ever did is love you, but I guess it’s not enough.” Your eyes glassy you turned to walk away wiping the tears that fell.
Shin:
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His anger was the reason for all this. And it was a point less argument to be honest.
“Shin please, I barely know the guy.” You reassured him.
“How do I know you’re not lying?” He turned to look at you somewhat angry.
“Oh so you think I’m lying?” Your voice wavered.
“You’re gone a lot of the time!” He shouted enough to make anyone here behind the walls of the room. Your eyes brimmed with tears as you tried to hold them back, only failing to do so.
Shaking your head you replied, “I wouldn’t do that to you.” 
“You say that, but it doesn’t seem that way. You’re just crying to make me stay.” He snarled.
“I do not want anyone but you, why can’t you see it?!” You glared wiping your tears.
“Because everyone betrays me damn it! And you will too!” He approach you pointing his finger at you, his blood boiling.
“I love you! You’re betraying me because you don’t trust me!” You screamed, your cheeks wet and stained with tears. Desperately you tired to wipe them away but it made no difference.
312 notes · View notes
heliads · 4 years ago
Text
Arguments and Abandonment
After a fight causes you to leave Brooklyn and your childhood friend Spot Conlon behind, you decide to trade your old life for Manhattan and try to forget the whole thing. However, your feelings about Spot can’t stay in the past forever, especially when you’re forced to return to Brooklyn once again.
masterlist
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You had known Spot for a very long time. You’d been there with him, back when he wasn’t the King of Brooklyn, when neither of you were newsies at all. You had been much younger then, having to protect each other on the streets when all you two had were the shirts on your backs. You trusted him like no one else, and he felt the same about you.
Then, he had become a newsie. Not content to stay back, you had quickly joined the ranks as well, selling papes just as well as anyone else on the street. It didn’t take long for Spot to rise in the ranks (he’d always had a thing for leadership, people just flocked to him. People like you), and soon after that, anyone who was anyone on the streets of New York knew about Spot Conlon. Even when he had all of Brooklyn looking to him for aid, he still came to you for advice, knocking on your door late at night when he didn’t know what to do.
People came to associate you with him. After all, who’d know a guy better than the girl who’d spent most of her life with him? The two of you were always side by side, talking in hushed voices about anyone and everyone who came in your way. Maybe Spot was the King of Brooklyn, but everyone knew that you didn’t mess with Y/N unless you had a death wish. That’s just how it was, how it would always be.
And then you had the argument. It shouldn’t have been anything, shouldn’t have lasted more than a few seconds before you two made amends and forgot the whole mishap. Yet you can still hear the steel in his voice, the way the two of you had fought like you’d never fought before. Probably would never fight again, actually. You don’t think you’ll ever get close enough to him for that to happen.
You suppose the argument itself had been a long time coming. See, it was easier to get along when it was just you and him, when you were still scrawny kids messing around on the streets and getting into trouble. But Spot had been changing, getting taller, showing off muscles that hadn’t always been there. Dark locks of hair curled around his face, falling in his eyes. You had never noticed that before, never noticed any of the hundreds of details that made the boy before you Spot. Even with all the years behind you, you don’t think you’d ever seen him in the way that you do now.
You suppose you yourself had changed. You were more confident, less afraid of what others might think of you. You knew your worth, you knew what you were capable of, and you knew that you should not be spending this much time thinking about Spot Conlon, even if he was someone you’d known all your life. Especially if he was someone you’d known all your life.
So, to distract yourself, you started changing your paper route to be longer, to take you farther away from the Brooklyn lodging house. You’d get back later, set out earlier. All in all, you spent less time with Spot and more time by yourself, biding your time and pretending you didn’t care about the dark-haired boy you were doing your best to avoid.
However, even if not seeing Spot all the time was doing good things for your little crush, it certainly wasn’t great for him. Spot, who was usually used to meeting up with you after sales were over to talk through rules for the Brooklyn newsies, was suddenly left alone with no idea where you were. As you grew more courageous, venturing out on little trips by yourself to pass the time, he grew more annoyed that you weren’t reporting in to him. Eventually, his smoldering frustration and your overly breezy attitude were bound to clash in a thunderstorm of the century.
Stormy couldn’t even begin to describe it. At first, you had both been civil. He had pulled you aside into a separate room. He had asked you why you weren’t showing up at the lodging house as much, why you were suddenly skipping newsie discussions. You suppose something in his tone had bothered you, something about the fact that he seemed to feel that he could control you, and you had answered him with some sort of snarky retort. This, when Spot had been wanting a legitimate response, was the last straw.
It quickly escalated from there until you were practically shouting at each other. Why were you so afraid of responsibility? Why did Spot think he could order you around like a doll? Why were you making such a big deal out of this? Why was he? Everything came to a peak when Spot had raked his hand through his hair, clearly vexed. “You know, you’re skipping out on us so much I don’t even think we need you here.” He had said, and you had frozen mid-pace. 
“Are you telling me to leave?” You had asked, voice icy calm. Spot had looked over at you, and even from across the room you could sense the regret already building in him, the knowledge that he had gone too far. But Spot was still Spot Conlon, King of Brooklyn, and so he would never back down. “I guess I am.” He had stared at you, chin held high, issuing a silent challenge. He wasn’t the only one with a Brooklyn temper, so you returned his gaze. “Then this is goodbye.” You had jerked your chin at him in a silent farewell, then spun around and headed for the door. Just as you were about to disappear completely, you saw his hand reach out to stop you, but it was too late, and you hurried away from him.
You had left Brooklyn that night, gathering up your few belongings in a fit of fury and leaving the lodging house behind. You had whispered a couple of last-minute goodbyes to your newsie friends in Brooklyn, then disappeared into the streets. You weren’t quite sure where you were going, only that it had to be away. Somewhere Spot wouldn’t find you, although you knew that the chances of him searching for you were slim to none. So, you suppose that you weren’t quite surprised when you looked up and found yourself walking through Manhattan- Jack Kelly’s turf. Well, if there’s one place Spot won’t want to go, it is here.
Luckily for you, not many of the Manhattan newsies recognized you. If there were any dealings with Brooklyn, they would usually have met with Spot instead of you, so you were just another stranger to them. You had walked through the door of the Manhattan lodging house, making your way through the throngs of boys to reach Jack Kelly. He had recognized you slightly, judging by his furrowed brow, but you had been quick to assure him that it was only because you used to be a Brooklyn newsie and had left due to a little dispute with Spot. Understatement of the century, but it would keep your cover and explain away any misgivings.
Jack had welcomed you with open arms, and you found a new home with the Manhattan newsies. It was a perfectly fine life, and you still kept selling papes as free as a bird just like you had always wanted, but something was still missing. You noticed it when you headed back to the lodging house and looked for a familiar face that wasn’t there, or when you looked out the window at night and saw a cityscape that just wasn’t quite right. You missed Brooklyn, and there was no way around it.
As much as you missed your home, you knew there was no chance that you’d go back. If there’s one thing you and Spot had in common, it’s that you had a fearsome pride that you would never be able to fully control. You couldn’t imagine walking back through those streets, and to do what? Beg Spot to let you stay? Not in a million years. It’s the same reason why Spot won’t be knocking on the door of the Manhattan lodging house to ask you to come back home with him. He would never admit that he was wrong, and certainly not in front of Jack and all of the ‘Hattan newsies.
So you stay in Manhattan, and watch the sun rise and set over and over again. Days grow old, become weeks. Soon it’s been a month, then two, then half a year. You miss Spot with every sunrise, but it doesn’t matter. You two had always been able to hold a grudge, and that’s exactly what you’ll be doing, probably for the rest of your life. There was just no other way.
You’ve finished selling your papes early. One of the nice things about Manhattan is that they’re not quite used to a girl newsie, and you’re able to get through all of your papers in much shorter time than back home in Brooklyn. So, you wander back through the twisting street corners to the Manhattan lodging house, joined soon after by Race, Elmer, Albert, Specs, and a few other boys.
This mangy group is lying around in the main room of the lodging house when Jack leans in the doorway, pretending to knock on the doorframe. “Hey, Racer, Specs, Y/N, you guys busy? I need a couple of newsies to head down to Spot Conlon’s turf. Them Brooklyn boys are causing some trouble in our zone and I need him to knock it off.” You sit up the second you hear Spot’s name. “I’m not sure that’s such a good idea, Jack. You remember why I came here, right? Spot hates me.”
Jack waves a hand dismissively. “Actually, you said that you were good friends until one measly little argument. I need you there to make sure the other boys don’t get they asses kicked by the Brooklyn guys.” Race and Specs stand up, joining you in the squabble. Their voices ring out over yours, fiercely declaring that they could take a dozen Brooklyn boys ten to one and come out on top. 
You laugh in spite of yourself, and Jack takes that as a cue that you agree with him. “Great to see you so happy, Y/N. Now come on, it’ll be a short trip. See you later.” He ducks out of the room before you can either argue back or hit him with something, so you’re forced to turn to Specs and Race. “So, how do you feel about a walk to Brooklyn?”
It feels strange to be heading back to your old turf. Jack had assured you that you’d only be there briefly to keep the Brooklyn boys off of Race and Specs, and you wouldn’t have to talk to Spot at all. So, you keep your newsie cap wedged firmly down on your head, and do your best to disguise your face. You don’t want to be here, not at all, but you can’t risk getting kicked out of Manhattan as well. You can only join so many turfs before you run out of places to sell your papes. And then what would you do, go transcontinental?
The walk to the Brooklyn lodging house happens without incident, and you’re almost feeling like you didn’t need to come at all until you’re a few blocks away. Race and Specs are walking down the road when a figure melts out of the shadows of an alleyway and comes to stand in front of them, blocking their path. He folds his arms across his chest. “And what would a couple of ‘Hattan newsies be doing in our turf?” Race is about to issue back some sarcastic jibe when three more Brooklyn boys appear out of nowhere.
You can see this is going south, so you walk up to the boys. You’d been trailing Race and Specs by a block or so in the hopes that you wouldn’t be needed, but all eyes turn to you once you approach the gathered newsies. The lead Brooklyn boy squints at you. “Who are you? Another Manhattan kid?” You reach up and pull your hat back, grinning at your friend. “What, you forget me that quickly? I’se only been gone a couple of months.”
He recognizes you at once. “Y/N? That you?” The boy slings an arm around your shoulder. “You should have told us these kids were with you.” You laugh, gesturing for Race and Specs to continue on to the lodging house. “I didn’t think you were that excited for a fight. They’d been here barely a minute.” The two of you break into chuckles, but your laugh dies in your throat when you see a familiar figure approaching from further down the street. He calls out to the Brooklyn boy next to you. “Hey, what’s all this? I’ve said no commotion in the streets.” Then Spot turns to you, and his gaze turns stony from the second his eyes land on you.
Neither of you say a word. Specs, noticing the obvious unease circling between the two of you, steps forward. “We’re here with word from Jack Kelly. There are a few things we’se got to discuss.” Spot looks over at him, distracted, and idly gestures for the three of you to follow him back to the lodging house. You walk over to Specs and whisper a quiet thank-you to the newsie. He just brushes it off. “Trust me, it was more for me than you. I didn’t want to see you get killed this soon into entering Brooklyn.” You force a smile, but inside, your mind is reeling. You had hoped that Spot would at least look a little happy to see you, like he regrets sending you away, but you didn’t see anything but ice in his eyes.
The three of you push through the doors of the lodging house, and head down the hall to Spot’s office of sorts. You already know the way, having been there many times before, and so you’re the first one in the room. Race and Specs are about to follow you through the door, but Spot reaches out an arm and blocks their path. “I’m going to talk with her first. You can wait in the main room.” You trade gazes with the Manhattan newsies, and nod silently to indicate that everything is alright. As you watch them disappear back down the hall, you’re not quite sure whether that was the truth.
Spot waits for them to go, then shuts the door. He walks back to the center of the room, folding his arms over his chest. You’ve seen this movement many times before, but usually the object of his stone-cold stare is some unfortunate newsboy, not the girl he’s known for his entire life. Spot is the first one to speak. “What are you doing here?” His voice is quiet. You’re not used to hearing it so quiet.
You clear your throat. “Jack asked me to go with the boys. He wants to talk about-” Spot cuts you off. “I don’t care about Jack Kelly. Why are you back here?” Despite everything, despite all the time you’ve spent wishing you could be back in Brooklyn, you still feel that familiar burn of annoyance rising in the back of your throat. “Would you prefer I leave? I seem to remember you were the one to kick me out in the first place.” The sounds of the city echo in through an open window. Spot glances out at the city below, then back to you.
“As I recall, you were the one who dared me to make you leave.” Your eyes fly to him. “That’s not true at all! Yeah, we were arguing, but I’m not the one who said that I wasn’t needed. That you didn’t want me here.” Spot takes a step forward, and even this slight closeness makes your breath hitch in your throat. “I never wanted you to go. I know what I said, and I know what happened, but I never wanted you to leave. I regretted it ever since.”
You nod slowly, finding you can’t quite look him in the eyes. You glance away, towards the open window. Anything but the pain clear on Spot’s face, the pain that twists in you like a knife. “I missed it too. All of this.” You wait one moment, two. “I missed you.” Spot reaches out and presses his hand gently to the side of your cheek, forcing you to look back at him. “Come back to me. Please. I never should have said any of that and we both know it.” You look at him for a long time, silently weighing everything, then nod. Instantly, Spot’s face brightens. “Well, if we’re making chancy decisions, I might as well do this.” You tilt your head slightly, confused, then your eyes widen when he presses a kiss to your lips. You smile and kiss him back, but the moment is shattered when one of the Brooklyn newsies yells something from out in the hall.
“Hey, Spot, can you hear out these ‘Hattan guys? One of them keeps stealing Jasper’s cigars.” Spot groans, reluctantly pulling away. “I’m going to kill them before they even start talking.” You laugh at his annoyed expression. “You are not.” Spot raises an eyebrow. “And who’s going to stop me?” You smile at him. “Me.” You lean over, kissing him lightly, then dance away and reach for the door despite Spot’s protests, which you ignore gleefully. You have Spot back, what more could anything else matter?
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Unpopular Euphoria opinion: Yeah, Nate Jacobs is an asshole who should end up in jail but the worst thing he has ever done is physically assault Tyler (And Maddy, which was horrible, but lets be real, he fucked up Tyler way worse + he framed him and literally RUINED his life but no one cares because he is a dude and a minor character) like that and yet most of the fandom doesn't even remember that or the fact Maddy was complicit in the framing of Tyler, instead they focus on petty stuff like Nate being no meaner than any other cliche edgy bad boy in young adult media or even some of the other "Euphoria" heroes in their worst moments for that matter.
Like, it is super hard for me to take the "fuck Nate Jacobs" tag or the fandom morality police complaints about other people "excusing" his actions seriously when half the same fandom doesn't give a shit about his main victim, Tyler, whose story wasn't even resolved, we are just meant to assume he stays in jail as opposed to Jules, whom Nate somewhat tried to make amends to by apologizing and giving her the cd back, for example. All I am saying is that the fandom doesn't give a shit unless it is a main character Nate is hurting and then they go stan Fez who beat a man up in front of his kid in order to rob a house, sells drugs to high schoolers and takes a literal child to his drug deals, which ends up tragically.
But... b-but Fez had no choice, his grandma, he was raised that wayyy
Oh, so trauma is a valid "excuse" depending on how the narrative frames it, I get it, or when it fits you lmao
Anyway Nate is a good villain and an abusive piece of shit, what he did to Rue was disgusting, and both Cassie and Maddy deserve way better but he is overhyped when it comes to how alledgedly unredeemable and evil he is. He is no Bryce Walker I am sorry lol. That is the only thing I am saying.
And speaking of Bryce Walker, can we talk about the ease with which the fandom forgives Cal for raping Jules or doesn't even acknowledge it as rape? And no, I am not talking about not knowing she was 17, which is of course extremely questionable but could indeed have been a simple mistake. I am talking about the fact she was clearly in pain during that whole disturbing scene and Cal couldn't have given less of a fuck. No, Jules probably doesn't see it as rape but she is clearly disturbed by the experience, so much so she detaches herself from it according to Rue. That 👏 is 👏 the 👏 trauma.
It was so unsettling to watch an adult man treating a young girl as nothing more than an object (If you meet a man who wasn't disturbed stay the fuck away), and I don't doubt there were other men and women he treated like Jules (That is without even getting into the whole "filming people without their consent" aspect), but people forgot the moment we were shown Cal's tragic backstory. Am I supposed to feel sorry after Cal's soap opera and not Nate's? Screw you. Also, sorry if I have higher standards for grown ass men than for the teenagers they sucked at raising and keeping from finding their illegal porn (This is for the people commenting that they "feel sorry for Cal for having such an awful son", like, fuck you, you are full of shit, Nate is exactly the kind of son someone like Cal "deserves").
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katnissmellarkkk · 3 years ago
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Chapter Four
“Dang it!” I bellow eight days later, as my body gives way and topples over, having used too great of force to yank a now dead primrose from the ground.
Yesterday morning I had come outside to discover the yellow evening primroses, the flowers Peeta had planted upon his arrival back in Twelve, had all but died.
And I didn’t even notice. I’ve been so distracted with everything else going on in my life—namely Peeta and his blonde companion—that I entirely forgot about the flowers. The flowers that my sister was named for. The flowers meant to represent her when she was no longer alive to represent herself.
The idea that I could forget the plant, that I let myself lag on the simple duty of keeping them alive and watered and healthy, felt as if I had let my little sister down all over again. It felt as if I’d failed Prim a second time.
And it’s more than I can handle. I can’t even endure the thought. The very implication that I am, in any way, dishonoring my sister’s memory is entirely unbearable. Even if it is just me implying it, inside my head.
But in any case, it looks like the primroses are too far gone and I don’t have even a chance at resurrecting them back to life. I took too long to notice their wilting, I was too caught up in other things, that I let the plants die and now there’s no going back.
For a split second I consider returning one of my mother’s many calls to ask for gardening advice. She has always had a green thumb and been able to grow whatever she set her mind to. I never had any of those skills. I was a hunter by nature, not a nurturer.
No, that was Prim. The soft and gentle one, who loved animals, who could heal any wound she could identify, who could garden and grow herbs just as well as our mother.
And I miss her so much. I miss my little sister so very much that I almost breakdown into tears right then and there, right in front of the dead primrose bush outside my house.
“Katniss?” I hear someone call in the distance. I recognize the voice instantly.
And rapidly get up and make a beeline towards my front door.
Unfortunately he’s determined to catch me. After eight solid days of evasion, Peeta is dead set on catching me at any given opportunity before him.
It’s almost funny how once upon a time it was him who wished to avoid me. It was him who craved distance between us, who acted icy and detached at every encounter, whether forced or by chance.
Now it’s him trying to force an encounter between us, trying desperately to make up for hurting me, trying to still be a part of my life, even after I pronounced our relationship finished.
The bread he left on my doorstep—that I immediately tossed in the garbage—is proof of that. The cheesebuns he left on my counter who met their demise to a flock of birds on my back porch is proof of that. The cookies he baked and passed through Greasy Sae when I went to trade at the new, rebuilt Hob is glaring proof of his efforts.
I did actually eat those but I made sure to do it in private, where Peeta would never know if his token was accepted or not.
Because I don’t want him to think we’re okay. I don’t want Peeta to believe me and him can still be friends, with Bailey Robyn, the uptight, controlling blonde still lingering over his every move.
Okay, maybe I’m being a bit overdramatic. Bailey isn’t residing over Peeta’s every action. She probably doesn’t even know he’s made all these treats for me. And she surely wasn’t sitting by his side in the corner of Greasy Sae’s booth when our eyes briefly met before I stubbornly stormed out.
But I feel like she is. I feel her presence overcast in every one of Peeta’s actions, in every deed he partakes in, in every moment I run into him. Maybe it’s only inside my head but it’s enough reason for me to avoid Peeta. It’s enough reason that I wish to stand by my words eight days ago and cut him directly out of my life. With a chainsaw if necessary, I wish to cut the invisible cord that has tied me and him together for so long now.
“Katniss!” Peeta calls again, his arms grasping my waist just in time to prevent my escape into the house.
“Go away,” I mutter under my breath, ire and ache still seeping off me even after a week separating this moment here with our last interaction.
“Why are you upset?” He asks, a little breathless now from the race to my front door. But even tired, concern still manages to leak into his tone. His blue eyes still show anxiety for my well-being.
And it’s still not enough to thaw me.
“You know why,” I say rigidly, pulling my front door open and shoving his hands away from me.
“No, no, I mean,” he quickly tries to correct his question. “I meant, what’s happened out here that has you upset?”
I audibly huff, my eyes about as warm as a popsicle in a snowstorm. The last thing I want to do is stand here and recount just about anything to Peeta, especially in regards to the way I’m currently feeling.
Especially after the last time we spoke about our feelings, when I chose to let him in and allowed him to see the vulnerable parts of me that I never trust anyone with.
Only for him to turn around and side with Bailey over me.
But knowing how persistent Peeta can be when properly determined—his intensity to train like a Career, Brutus’ murder and him warning District Thirteen about Snow’s incoming attack all fly to the top of that list—I merely gesture widely to my backyard, where the dead flowers lie.
It only takes Peeta a moment to click it all together, to his credit. Though I’m hesitant to even offer him that right now.
“I’ll replant them,” he instantly offers, like a dog begging to fetch his owner a carcass bone.
“Don’t bother,” I say, about as rude and uninviting as humanly possible. “It’s not your responsibility.”
I’m just stepping into the house when Peeta’s hand shoves on the door, hard enough to keep it open. For a split second, I contemplate putting all my strength behind it and slamming his fingers in the door. But even as mad as I am—even as wounded as I am—I won’t physically harm Peeta.
After all, he already lost his leg once about I tied it in a tourniquet. I may have saved his life but I also cost him half a limb and that thought alone stops me from nearly taking his fingers off too.
“Katniss, I want to,” he pleads and his eyes are so big and blue and I feel my heart involuntarily melt a bit upon at the sight. “I want to replant them.”
I release an unconscious breath, for the first time in over a week not completely hostile towards the boy with the bread, who in my eyes, completely turned his back on me. Or so it feels. “I’ll just end up killing them again, Peeta. I’m serious. Don’t even bother.”
“Then I’ll tend to them,” Peeta throws out, getting more and more desperate the more I refuse, it seems.
I’m about to brush off his offer once again when another voice joins us. “Oh, let him do it, sweetheart. The boy needs a hobby besides baking,” Haymitch chimes in, standing at the bottom of my porch, looking drunk as ever.
“You love that baking is his only hobby,” I shoot back at the paunchy, old man.
“Well, not anymore. Since you two started fighting he’s been making me fat. I need a break.”
I’m about to come back with another comment, probably one to suggest Haymitch doesn’t have to eat everything Peeta brings, when we’re joined by a third presence.
Of course, she has to join us. Bailey can’t seem to let Peeta go anywhere without her nowadays.
“What’s going on?” She murmurs, looking around at all our tense body language. Well, at mine and Peeta’s tense body language. Haymitch is currently sitting on the bottom step of my porch now, as relaxed as Buttercup is in the window.
Peeta opens his mouth to respond but then shuts it again, glancing back at me. I don’t know if it’s the fact that he doesn’t wish to discuss his offer to help me with his girlfriend or if it’s the fact that he clearly knows I dislike the notion of Bailey in my business, but either way I’m a little pleased when he closes his mouth and adverts eye contact away from the blonde.
Instead it’s my drunken mentor who elaborates. “The girl’s flowers died. Your boyfriend just wants to replant them.”
To my utter astonishment, Bailey seems amendable to the idea. “The flowers for your sister?” She inquires, looking right at me. I shoot her a quizzical—and perhaps slightly unfriendly—look out of the corner of my eye but she continues on anyway. “Peeta, you should help her plant them again. Especially since you let them die-“
But I’ve heard enough from her—and everyone else here, for that matter—and I turn to Peeta, my hand still holding the doorknob tightly, ready to slam it shut. “Fine,” I cave, my tone anything but grateful. “Go ahead and replant the primroses. If that’s going to help you, then go for it.”
I don’t wait to hear a response from any of the parties now camped out on my property. Instead I shove Peeta’s fingers off my door—first time I’ve touched him in eight days—and throw it shut with such a force I feel the walls in my entryway shake.
“She’s always been a spitfire,” I hear Haymitch mumble as three sets of footsteps make their way further from my porch.
I barely catch Peeta’s response. If I hadn’t been standing by the door, unintentionally listening to hear what they may be saying, I would have missed it altogether.
“That’s the best thing about her.”
/
It’s just mere hours later before I’m disturbed once again. This time not by a crew of three but by one solo intruder.
“Sweetheart?” Haymitch barks, evidently not too keen on the fact that I decided to turn every light in my house off after returning home from the Hob.
“Go away,” I mumble out, knowing well and clear that he can’t hear me from upstairs. I’m in my bedroom, lying in the safety of my own bed, in my own private sanctuary, where I do not wish to be disturbed by anyone at any cost.
Of course, it only takes a few minutes of bumping into things and cursing for Haymitch to track me down. “Girl, it’s six at night?” He says incredulously.
“So?” I snap, as he turns my light on, effectively blinding me.
“Did you just forget about dinner tonight?” He asks, his voice neither kind nor hostile. In all honesty, he just sounds puzzled.
“Why are you in my room, Haymitch?” I murmur, rubbing my eyes until they adjust to the beaming brightness and pulling myself upwards now. Off his dismissive glance, I let out a deep sigh. “I wasn’t hungry.”
Of course, we’re not really talking about me skipping a meal. I highly doubt Haymitch truly cares if I miss dinner by my own accord. He surely wasn’t too interested in my meal intake when he brought me home from the Capitol and dropped me off on my doorstep.
No, we’re referring to the weekly dinners me, Peeta and Haymitch have at the old man’s pig sty. The same dinners I’ve brought Delly along to, that Haymitch is constantly passing out drunk during, that Bailey has been crashing nonstop since arriving here in Twelve.
When I came home from trading at the Hob tonight, I decided I was done with those dinners. I don’t need to subject myself to bossy Bailey any longer, and my resolve to keep Peeta out of my life as much as humanly possible is still strong. Despite the fact that I agreed to let him plant the primroses in my garden again and tend to their growth, I still don’t wish for us to be friends. I still don’t want to subject myself any further to him and Bailey’s exhibits.
And I figured no one would mind my absence anyways. At least not for a few dinners. I knew eventually Haymitch would try to push me to come back and Peeta would probably ask me very sweetly to join again, but I didn’t think the first night I skipped would be a huge production.
And okay, maybe there is a small part of me who deep down hopes if I refuse to come, Bailey may be disinvited in order to make me feel welcome again. It’s a long shot and not one I’d consciously admit to counting on, but I’d be lying if I said there wasn’t a small, minuscule part of me wishing for that to happen just the same.
Haymitch glances at me suspiciously now. “You’re always hungry, kid.”
“I am not.”
“Yes, you are. You’re the most enthusiastic eater I know.”
Okay, he is blatantly confused apparently. His drunken goggles are blurring his perspective of reality, it would seem.
In any case, I flop backwards on my bed and roll away, hoping if I ignore my mentor long enough he’ll just evaporate into thin air.
But for some reason, Haymitch is weirdly dogged tonight. “Come on,” he urges, shaking my shoulder a bit too roughly. “I know the boy always says you’re just like me, but this little display is over the top, Katniss.”
I roll my eyes. “Why do you even want me at those dinners, Haymitch? You have Peeta and Bailey there.” I can’t stop myself from throwing the extra emphasis on Bailey, as immature as it may be.
However, the old man isn’t interested in dignifying me with a response. “And Delly. And Johanna. And Annie Cresta.”
That catches me completely off-guard. “What?”
In the time since the war ended and I returned to Twelve—or rather, was exiled to Twelve—no one from the other districts have visited. I have barely seen anyone I know in the last few months, outside Haymitch, Peeta and Delly.
“Some of which are anxious to see you at dinner,” he adds, gesturing for me to get up.
I shoot him a mordant glance. “Johanna’s anxious to see me?”
“I said some. Meaning Delly and Annie,” he clarifies. Off my still hesitant expression, he reaches down and tugs on my wrist, trying to get me out of bed.
“Fine!” I exclaim, feeling strangely embarrassed now as I realize that our roles are suddenly being reversed. I’m the one who always forced him out of bed, who made him come to meals, who fought with him to hurry up and get moving.
In the end, I don’t bother cleaning myself up or trying to appear presentable. Johanna and Annie won’t care and Peeta doesn’t get to care anymore.
And it wouldn’t matter anyway. Even if Effie Trinket or my entire prep team were here, I’d never stand a chance of looking anything but plain next to Bailey.
It’s not that I care that she’s so blatantly pretty. It’s just that her looks are one more thing about her presence to be bothered by, and that list is getting long and extensive. Even after her apparent approval of Peeta gardening my primroses, even after no negative interactions in eight days, I still sense hostility with her. And I still can’t stare at her without feeling my stomach churn.
Because every time she’s around, I know I’m about to be the odd one out. For whatever reason, outside of Delly, the people I care for, hold a deep affinity for Bailey Robyn.
And it bothers me above anything I can express. It bothers me beyond words, beyond measure, beyond any sense of feeling.
“Look who I found,” Haymitch announces as we enter through the threshold of his filthy residence.
“Katniss!” Annie exclaims and tosses her arms around my neck, despite the fact that we’ve never been too close. I can’t even remember the last time we had a conversation in person. The only true communication between me and Annie is the letters she sends, the ones filled with details of her life in Four and Finnick’s son. The ones I rarely respond to, but always read just the same.
Still, despite the fact that Annie might as well be a glorified stranger to me, I return the embrace, instinctively at first and then, simply because I want to. Because no one besides Peeta has given me any sort of affection in months and I miss it. Now that Peeta has put conditions on our relationship, I am hungry for any physical touch at all.
It shocks me to realize, in that moment, just how completely starved I am, for closeness.
I hug Annie for far longer than I think anyone watching anticipated but she doesn’t seem to mind. In fact, she seems to welcome it too.
Then again, her husband died and left her with seemingly no family at all to help raise their baby. So perhaps she’s just as desperate for a human touch—I suppose besides her son—as I am.
I don’t receive the same welcome from Johanna, unsurprisingly, but as soon as me and Annie break apart, she shoots me a satirical glance and pulls on a piece of my hair.
“Ow!” I exclaim, my thick brows furrowing in confusion. “What was that for?”
“It was sticking up,” she explains with a shrug and then smirks. “Did you just roll out of bed and come here?”
“Did you?” Her outfit is just denim pants and a low cut t-shirt. Not that different from my attire.
“Yes. And I’m not ashamed of it.” She runs a hand over her hair which has grown out to about length with her shoulders. “But I know how to use a hairbrush, at least.”
I roll my eyes as she nudges me. “This is dinner,” Haymitch deadpans as he makes his way to the table. “Not a Capitol Beauty Contest.”
Jo examines the unwashed table as we follow the grumpy man’s lead. As of right now, the table is completely void of substance. “Doesn’t dinner imply food?” She asks and Annie laughs lightly, suggesting she was thinking along the same lines.
“Haymitch doesn’t believe in cooking himself,” I retort, earning a look from the old man. “He’s waiting for Peeta to arrive with food.”
“You’re more than welcome to provide the meal, sweetheart.”
“And what are you providing?”
“The residence the meal is served at.”
“And what a residence it is!” Exclaims a completely different voice, a higher pitched soprano.
And like clockwork, three blonde heads round the corner of the dining room, abruptly joining the party.
Delly looks as enthusiastic to be walking with Peeta and Bailey as I am to be in their company right now. Which she further evidences by hurrying to the seat at my right.
“Don’t think I’ve ever seen you without a grin,” Haymitch remarks as he pulls out a bottle of white liquor and pours it into a half-clean glass.
“Wonder why that is,” I murmur out loud before thinking better of it. After all, Haymitch seems to care for Bailey more than me nowadays. I should probably not stir the pot before the food is even presented before me.
But he doesn’t reply back. Even if he did, I doubt I’d notice anyway.
Because, in the flash of a second, the attention of the room is completely shifted.
I knew Bailey was coming with Peeta. She’s practically glued to his hip at all times of day, almost as if she’s afraid to let him out of her sight. But it would seem that Haymitch did not inform Johanna or Annie about Peeta’s new relationship, effectively catching them both by surprise at the additional dinner guest.
And there’s little room for doubt to anyone with eyes that they’re together. Their hands are practically singed as one, in an airtight grasp, her manicured nails intertwined with his long fingers.
For a split second I wonder if that’s what my hand looked like inside Peeta’s last week. I wonder if this is what Bailey saw before her, when she caught us roaming through town at the crack of dawn.
“Barley?” Johanna says in a shocked voice.
It takes a moment for her comment to compute in my brain. “Bailey,” I correct, trying to be helpful. Though I’m unsure where she even managed to get the name Barley at all. Especially if Haymitch didn’t warn her about the girl Peeta was bringing and I strongly suspect he didn’t.
Jo looks at me like I’m insane for the amendment before turning back to Bailey and Peeta. “You’re dating Bailey Barley?” She say incredulously.
Bailey Barley? Is that a nickname? Now I’m the one who’s completely lost at sea, feeling like there was a good chunk of time I somehow missed.
Bailey’s blue eyes stare into Jo’s now, not exactly friendly but not as belligerent as I’ve seen her before. As I saw her last week.
I don’t know nor do I understand what they’re silently communicating, but I do comprehend one thing without a doubt.
Johanna knows Bailey. Somehow, someway, Johanna knows Bailey even more than I do.
Peeta doesn’t seem too confused though. He doesn’t even seem fazed by the exchange at all. Instead he drops Bailey’s hand—not soon enough, in my opinion—and moves to set some kind of meat and potato meal down on the table.
“Where did you get the meat?” I ask abruptly, recognizing it as deer. I just shot my first in a long time only the other day. How on Earth did Peeta get deer meat around the same time I did.
“I traded a cake for it. At the Hob,” he explains nonchalantly, avoiding my bewildered eyes now.
I just stare at him for a second, debating on even further commenting.
The Hob is where I traded the deer after killing it. Peeta literally baked a cake and traded it for meat, just because I wouldn’t speak to him.
He literally traded a cake so I could eat the meat that I hunted myself.
Something about that scenario vindicates me slightly. And I have to wonder if I’ve become sadistic with time and solitude.
My attention though is pulled back to Johanna and Bailey now. “What’re you doing in Twelve?”
Bailey takes her seat, between Haymitch and Peeta, with grace. “Peeta and I met in the Capitol,” she states simply. “I decided to come here and spend some more time with him. Get to know him a little better.”
As if to punctuate her words, she places one dainty hand on top of Peeta’s and gives it a squeeze.
I can’t even fight my eye roll.
“I see,” Jo murmurs, casting a sideway glance at me, none too subtle. “Well, it looks like you did... that.”
Delly snickers into her water glass and I don’t miss the way Bailey shoots her an irritated glance. Peeta seemingly does though. Haymitch is already too tipsy to care if an actual fight breaks out among us, his white liquor kicking in quick.
Annie on the other hand, who I’ve always believed to often be oblivious to all those around her, decidedly cuts the tension here. “Well, I’m hungry. Peeta, pass me a plate.”
And just like that, we’re having one of the most awkward meals I’ve ever had to endure.
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