hellishfm

[hellishfm]

ncxicus​:

          she  doesn’t  care  for  the  divulgence,  though  she  can’t  act  as  if  she’s  disappointed  in  the  all - talk - no - show  again   —   it’s  blair,  it  would’ve  been  shocking  to  get  action  minjeong  won’t  have  to  initiate  herself.  if  she  wanted  her  to  turn  around,  maybe  she  would’ve  laughed  at  the  words.  maybe  she  would’ve  given  advice  on  how  the  other  should  grow  a  spine  and  stop  the  self  martyrisms.  but  that  would  be  counter - productive,  hades  daughter  haven’t  been  in  her  sheets  for  a  while,  it  has  potential  to  be  a  worth  last  time.    ❛   you’ll  have  to.  i’m  not  fucking  you  in  my  office,  blair.   ❜    that  much  sure  is  clear,  however.  she’s  no  romantic,  but  come  on  now,  a  bit  of  decorum.  if  blair  needs  her  like  she’s  claiming,  a  few  minutes  to  walk  back  isn’t  much  of  a  chore.  minjeong  takes  a  second  to  look  her  up,  down,  up  again.  it’s  easy  to  finally  get  up  and  walk  around  the  table,  stroking  back  blonde  hair  behind  an  ear  and  slowly,  deliberately  plucking  the  lollipop  that’s  been  distractively  moving  from  the  pleading  mouth  and  into  hers.    ❛   so  you  know  we  taste  the  same.   ❜    consolation  to  the  burden  of  a  power  the  girl’s  got.  better  blair  than  her,  minjeong’s  always  thought.  would’ve  added  to  a  whole  other  body  count  if  not.

               a  forceful  beckon  of  gravity  has  her  taking  a  step  forward,    steadying  herself  against  the  realization  of  what  she’s  about  to  do.    her  friendships  feel  like  quicksand  between  her  fingers,    her  grip  on  her  reputation  slipping      —      with  nothing  left  to  lose,    is  it  really  so  bad  that  she’s  found  herself  here  ?      ❛      i  didn’t  come  here  so  we  could  .  .  .      fuck  in  your  office.    you  thought  it.    not  me.      ❜      wordlessly,    she  picks  at  the  edge  of  her  cuticle    ;    a  few  weeks  ago,    she  might  have  recoiled  at  minjeong’s  touch,    drawn  back  in  on  herself,    retreating  into  her  shell.    now,    she  preens  under  the  attention,    drawing  herself  just  a  hair  taller,    careful  to  level  her  gaze  to  look  minjeong  in  the  eye.    where  mingjeong  goes,    blair  follows,    a  willing  participant  in  the  game.    if  she’s  playing  a  losing  hand,    chips  pressed  to  the  middle  of  the  table,    she  might  as  well  go  in  knowing  the  stakes.    her  mouth  tastes  like  cherry,    artificial  in  its  sweetness,    and  instinctively,    she  chases  the  lollipop  with  her  mouth,    stopping  just  a  hair’s  width  from  minjeong’s  lips.      ❛      my  room  or  yours  ?      ❜

[hellishfm]

ncxicus​:

          ❛   that’s  an  awful  lot  of  time  to  blame  on  karma,  blair.   ❜    but  she’ll  digress,  one’s  misfortunes  do  make  her  good  ones.  the  results  are  there,  she  doesn’t  care  much  if  she’s  won  them  by  an  inch  or  a  mile.    ❛   why  not,  you  wear  red  so  well  on  your  cheeks.   ❜    she  won’t  miss  an  opportunity  if  offered  on  a  silver  platter.  blair  is  there,  after  all.  sought  her  out,  knew  what  to  expect  ;  at  least  minjeong  offers  her  consistency  through  the  evident  change  phasing  her.  crosses  one  leg  over  the  other,  leaning  back  against  the  back  of  her  chair,  twirling  her  pen  between  her  fingers,  knowing  grin  sitting  like  an  insult  on  her  lips.  minjeong’s  enjoying  this,  that  even  in  her  position,  blair  came  to  her  of  all  people  to  help.  sure,  it’s  min’s  brand  of  help,  but  she’s  not  the  only  willing  and  able  to  break  her  back  if  asked.  no  matter  what  the  new  blonde  tries  to  say,  minjeong  doesn’t  have  to  do  anything  to  tighten  her  hold,  blair  does  it  for  her.      ❛   show  me,   ❜    she  is  curious  as  to  how  far  blair  can  go  when  asked,  how  badly  does  she  mean  it  when  she  wants  to  stop  being  that  good  girl  minjeong  knows  she’ll  always  be.  but  it’s  no  fun  to  spoil  the  ending,  blair  will  figure  it  out  through  another  failure.    ❛   one  good  reason  why  i  should  help  you.   ❜

               the  turn  of  conversation  is  quick,    fingers  tapping  deftly  on  the  table.    she  wears  a  feigned  look  of  boredom,    like  she  can’t  be  bothered  to  find  a  retort  for  minjeong’s  careful  needlings.    it’s  nothing  she  isn’t  already  used  to,    having  borne  the  burden  and  brunt  of  far  worse.    it’s  too  simple  to  say  that  she  hates  minjeong.    no,    it’s  something  far  deeper  than  a  surface  -  level  loathing,    more  complex  than  one  -  layered  resentment.    it  takes  root  in  the  pit  of  her  stomach,    spreading  like  venom  through  her  veins    ;    her  lips  tingle  with  it,    like  static  under  the  surface,    an  urge  she  aches  to  touch.    it’d  be  nice  to  know  what  it  feels  like,    just  once.      ❛      i  don’t  know  where  else  to  go,    minjeong.      ❜      a  confession  in  lieu  of  an  answer,    honest  all  the  same.    she  wouldn’t  be  here  if  she  had  somewhere  else  to  go,    if  there  was  another  means  to  the  end.    then  again,    maybe  it  was  always  meant  to  happen  like  this.    maybe  the  game  was  always  supposed  to  stop  here.      ❛      and  i  don’t  want  to  go  anywhere  else,    either.      ❜

[hellishfm]

ncxicus​:​

          one  thing  about  blair  is  that  she’ll  crawl  back  to  her.  she  begs  minjeong  to  leave  her  be,  yet  the  nemesis  daughter  doesn’t  remember  twisting  her  arm  to  be  interrupted  by  the  accustomed  drag  in  the  steps  against  the  floor.    ❛   sweetheart,  i  could  be  anywhere,  you’d  find  me.   ❜    the  missing  tears  at  the  throat  is  the  most  significant  difference  in  the  all  too  familiar  scenario,  that  brings  her  head  up  in  curiosity.  minjeong  doesn’t  grow  tired  of  that  game,  but  some  variety  is  making  this  indefinitely  more  interesting  already.  it’s  not  everyday,  or  any  day,  that  she’ll  hear  blair  come  to  an  agreement  with  her.  to  most  people’s  shock,  minjeong  knows  how  to  tell  a  truth  or  two.  shameless  eyes  study  once  again  the  hair,  the  edge,  the  demeanor.  bitterness  isn’t  for  everyone,  especially  for  someone  as  sugary  as  the  hades  offspring,  but  blair  wears  it  well.    ❛   i  doubt  it’s  only  to  talk  about  how  pretty  you  look.   ❜    no  matter  the  changes,  nothing  could  turn  blair  a  drastic  narcissist.    ❛   i’ve  got  my  idea,  but  i  want  to  hear  you  say  it.   ❜    there’s  two  options,  but  minjeong  isn’t  feeling  like  guessing.

               ❛      you  do  realize  that  half  the  time,    i’m  not  actually  looking  for  you,    right  ?    you  just  happen  to  be  there.      ❜      the  wrong  place  at  the  wrong  time.    wrong  girl,    wrong  time.    lips  press  to  a  thin  line,    her  unamusement  palpable.    the  absence  of  care  leaves  her  feeling  cold,    chilled  to  the  very  bone,    yet  she  doesn’t  falter  under  the  weight  of  minjeong’s  stare.      ❛      i’m  already  here,    minjeong.    you  don’t  need  to  butter  me  up.      ❜      yet,    it’s  an  accurate  summation.    she  knows  how  this  looks,    a  flower  having  grown  a  thorn  or  two,    a  girl  with  sharp  teeth.    it’s  pretty,    she  supposes.      ❛      i’m  tired  of  being  the  .  .  .      good  girl.    it’s  overrated,    okay  ?      and  what  do  i  have  to  show  for  it  ?      ❜      she  turns  from  minjeong  for  a  moment,    lazily  dragging  her  finger  across  the  table  that  separates  them.    there’s  something  dangerous  about  a  girl  with  nothing  left  to  lose,    nothing  more  to  gain.    innocently,    she  lifts  her  chin.      ❛      i  want  to  stop  thinking  for  a  bit.    stop  .  .  .    feeling  all  of  this  for  a  bit.    i  thought  you  could  help.      ❜

[hellishfm]

astridthejohnson​:

“At that point, I’ll be Super Team Super Blair,” Astrid corrects, almost wanting to add a third super for emphasis. “But you don’t need to be a hero for me to be rooting for you, alright? I’ll make a Blair T-shirt of you sitting on the couch, don’t tempt me.” She smiles wide at her best friend, toothy and goofy, the kind she’s never afraid to brandish around her because she’s never felt the need to hide any piece of just what a loser she really is. Blair loves her for it anyway. So it’s Astrid’s job to make sure that she understand that sentiment goes both ways. “See? You hype me up for putting band-aids on inexperienced trainees, this is simply what friends do,” she explains, then sighs a touch at her question. “It didn’t used to be,” she answers truthfully, “Every single time I healed someone, no matter how small, no matter how routine, it felt good. Right. And ever since… I dunno, it’s just… harder.” Astrid lets out a small chuckled, trying to shake off the pressure on her ribcage. What really snaps her out of it, though, is Blair’s quiet confession. “Wait, you what? A fight?” she chirps back, stopping them in their tracks along the sidewalk to process, her eyes wide with disbelief as she tries and fails to even picture that in her head. “What? No, no, you definitely have nothing to apologize for!” Astrid exclaims without even hearing what went down. “You’re not a bad person, Blair, who do I have to go beat up? What happened?”

               ❛      you’re  ridiculous,    you  know  that,    right  ?      ❜      her  heart  protests  the  fondness  that  clings  to  every  word,    tone  exasperated  even  as  she  offers  astrid  the  faintest  hint  of  a  smile.    whatever  souls  are  made  of,    she  likes  to  think  that  hers  and  astrid’s  are  the  same    —    cut  from  the  same  cloth,    pulled  from  the  same  mold.      ❛      but  .  .  .      it’s  okay  that  it’s  hard,    isn’t  it  ?    i  mean,    if  it’s  hard,    that  means  that  you  care.    if  you  didn’t  care,    it’d  probably  be  time  for  you  to  find  something  else  to  do.      ❜      it’s  all  a  bit  sullen,    the  way  her  words  hang  between  them,    a  casual  reminder  of  the  emotional  tax  they  pay.    she  doesn’t  know  what  it’s  like,    not  really,    to  be  in  astrid’s  shoes,    to  have  her  power  at  the  crux  of  all  that  she  does.    it  isn’t  hard  to  imagine  that  it’s  not  easy,    that  it’s  difficult  beyond  the  pale    —    at  least  she  doesn’t  have  to  use  hers  to  do  her  job,    she  figures.    blair  looks  up  as  they  come  to  a  stop  in  the  hallway,    mapping  the  stucco  ceiling  with  weary  eyes.    maybe  she  shouldn’t  have  said  anything  after  all.      ❛      it  was  with  nick,    actually,      ❜      she  confesses,    rubbing  a  palm  over  the  bottom  half  of  her  face.      ❛      and  it  was  .  .  .    stupid.    we  both  said  things  we  shouldn’t  have  said,    we  both  did  things  that  we  shouldn’t  have  done.    i  can’t  believe  we  were  fighting  about  someone  who  wasn’t  even  there.      ❜      it  feels  freeing  to  get  it  off  her  chest,    to  have  it  out  in  the  open  instead  of  held  tightly  against  her  ribcage.      ❛      not  that  minjeong  would  have  cared  that  anyone  was  arguing  about  her,    but  in  hindsight,    we  both  looked  foolish.    i  just  .  .  .    don’t  want  to  apologize.      ❜

[hellishfm]

nickspencer​:

There’s a satisfaction that sits in his chest to watch her turn back around, to see her be caught in the vines of barbed words so badly that she can’t help but come back to try her hand again at being the big bad wolf. The hollow smile doesn’t leave his face as piercing dark eyes flit back to him, and he catches something unrecognizable in them, blissfully unaware just how close he is to danger. A part of him wants to reach out and pluck it, find out just what it is bubbling underneath the surface of her usually golden exterior, to find the inky blackness beneath it. He’s not the only one with a bad side, it seems. But that’s not what he cares the most to discover, not when he can pick out anything he wants, after all. “You’re having too much fun to quit now, Blair,” Nick replies, and something dark flashes in his eyes. Fuck whatever headache will come from this, he’ll endure it if she wants to play this game and think she can get away clean. He won’t think about the last time he used his power— in fact he’ll take this opportunity to slap a new memory on top of it now that Blair’s decided to put them both in the arena. He concentrates as he stares her down this time, blue eyes turning the color of the deep sea. After spending so long barely even picking up a sword, it almost feels good to stretch this muscle, to know that it still works, that despite having nothing in his life, he could still pretend to get what he wants. “Doesn’t matter what explanations you do or don’t owe— I think you still got somethin’ to get off your chest,” Nick starts, assessing her again. “I’m obsessed with her, huh? That’s a little rich coming from you, Blair, when all that new bleach and venom you’re wearing sure looks like a costume of your favorite villain. You wanna tell me you didn’t get the idea from Minjeong?” He raises a brow, cool and clinical, zeroing in on the target, feeling the unseen hands of his power stretch from his mind until he has a grasp on hers. “You want to be just like her don’t you? Tell the truth.”

               ❛      yes.      ❜      inexplicably,    the  answer  is  plucked  from  her  lips,    earnest  in  its  sincerity.    it  crawls  out  of  her  mouth  and  sits  in  the  light  of  day,    the  edge  of  her  honesty  glinting  in  the  sun.    one  word,    three  letters,    and  it  doesn’t  even  have  the  decency  to  catch  on  the  lump  that’s  formed  in  her  throat,    the  barrage  of  words  she’d  rather  leave  left  unsaid  preparing  to  surface.      ❛      i’m  so  tired,    nick.    i’m  just  .  .  .      so  tired  of  hurting,    and  being  sad,    and  being  weak.      and  every  single  time  i  see  her,    it’s  like  she  doesn’t  care.    she  doesn’t  care  about  anything.    not  about  me,    not  about  this  place,    not  about  what  anyone  says,    and  i  keep  thinking  .  .  .      wouldn’t  it  be  so  nice  ?    wouldn’t  it  be  so  nice  to  just  not  care  about  anything  ?      to  not  have  to  feel  anything  for  a  while  ?      ❜      there’s  a  tremor  in  her  voice,    a  falter  in  her  words,    and  the  wetness  that  gathers  on  the  fullness  of  her  cheeks  is  a  burning  that’s  all  too  familiar.      ❛      and  i  don’t  know  what  i  did  to  deserve  any  of  this.    i  wish  i  did,    you  know  ?      i’ve  spent  .  .  .      so  many  nights  trying  to  figure  it  out.    to  figure  out  why  me.    i  keep  thinking  that  maybe  if  i  knew,    maybe  if  i  could  wrap  my  head  around  it,    it’d  stop  hurting  because  maybe  i  deserved  it.    maybe  it  was  something  i  did,    and  if  that’s  the  case,    i  don’t  have  anyone  to  blame  but  myself.    and  i  can’t  .  .  .    figure  it  out.    i  don’t  know,    and  that  just  makes  it  hurt  more,    and  i’m  so  tired.      ❜      her  vulnerability  strips  her  bare,    leaving  her  naked  and  exposed,    standing  as  an  open  wound    ;    in  a  crowded  room,    she’s  never  been  more  alone.      ❛      so  i  do.    i  do  want  to  be  like  her.    i  want  to  know  what  it’s  like  .  .  .    to  do  the  hurting  instead  of  being  hurt  for  a  change.    to  not  feel  anything  for  a  little  while.    to  not  have  to  answer  to  anyone  for  anything,    because  no  one  would  expect  anything  from  me  anyway.    doesn’t  that  sound  nice  ?    and  is  that  really  so  bad  ?      ❜      and  as  quickly  as  the  honesty  comes,    there’s  a  pause,    a  shift  in  the  room  when  the  world  seems  to  come  back  into  focus.    she  blinks,    once,    twice.    there’s  realization  in  his  subtle  movements,    what  she  assumes  is  the  beginnings  of  what  will  become  a  terrible  headache.    there’s  no  reason  she  would  ever  .  .  .    not  to  him,    not  like  this.    her  stomach  lurches,    heart  thudding  against  the  confines  of  her  ribcage,    and  the  bile  comes  up  before  she  can  tamp  it  down.      he  didn’t  need  to  know  any  of  that.    she  should  have  never  said  any  of  that.      ❛      i  can’t  .  .  .    i  can’t  believe  you  did  that  to  me.      ❜

[hellishfm]

it’s  almost  poetic,    she  thinks,    the  way  she  walks  into  the  fire  without  a  care  for  being  burned,    a  phoenix  rising  from  the  smoldering  of  ashes.    it’s  daniel  in  the  lion’s  den,    defenseless.      she  scoffs,    cherry  lollipop  settled  in  the  puffed  -  out   side  of  her  cheek    ;    if  she  gets  burned,    it’s  not  as  though  it  matters.    what  else  does  she  have  to  lose  ?      with  her  history  of  unchecked  naivety  in  tow,    her  sympathetic  nature  bled  dry,    she  finds  herself  sinking,    a  chip  on  her  shoulder  ever  -  present  and  a  weariness  clinging  to  her  bones.      ❛      i  thought  i’d  find  you  here,      ❜      the  edge  to  her  voice  sounds  foreign  to  her  own  ears,    no  longer  meek  and  mild.    she  wonders  if  minjeong  will  even  recognize  her.      ❛      and  i  thought  about  what  you  said.    a  lot  about  what  you  said,    actually.    blonde  does  suit  me.    i  think  i’m  going  to  .  .  .      keep   it  for  a  while.    see  how  it  goes.      ❜      contempt  manifests  in  the  slight  raise  of  her  brow,    the  single  tap  of  her  heel.    yet  she  found  her  way  here  for  a  reason.    there’s  no  one  else  she’d  rather  see.      ❛      you  know  why  i’m  here,    minjeong.      ❜               /               @ncxicus​

[hellishfm]

nickspencer​:

Nick can’t deny the utter surprise that comes over him the minute something in Blair’s expression shifts and she’s spitting venom at him like the bleach in her hair had stripped away her tender-hearted, mousy disposition along with the black color. Her words are admittedly painful, and he hates the way she throws the word hero in his face, what it makes him of, but strangely, beneath it all he finds himself impressed. He’d never had guessed she had it in her. However, any bit of awe or humor is gone the second Blair bring up Minjeong. Nick’s nerves steel, feeling his jaw set, the blood in his veins too hot. Now she’s gone and done it, he thinks, crossed an imaginary line in the sand whether she knows it or not, but when it comes to her, he suddenly doesn’t feel like cutting any slack. Nick’s eyes are set on that blonde hair as she turns away from him, his own expression cold. “I bet that felt good, didn’t it?” he calls after her, letting the space between them carry his words to her, a humorless grin appearing on his face, the taste of something sour on his tongue. “Congrats— I mean, it’s nice to see you finally grow a spine. I bet it’s gonna feel really good marching yourself home after all of that, feeling like you finally overcame being such a pushover. …Until you’re back alone in your apartment and you remember it doesn’t really matter, does it?” Nick drawls on, not caring that he can’t see her face or her reaction, only that he can imagine it. “It doesn’t matter what you get off your chest to me, because you didn’t say it to her. And you won’t. So just how brave are you, really?” If he were looking in a mirror he’d see an expression he recognizes, one that he used to see daily. Maybe he’d learned a thing or two watching his old best friend all this time. Nick hates that it crosses his mind, but when the satisfaction of taking an eye for eye can feel like armor over a wound, he thinks maybe he could be just like her.

               it  would  be  so  easy  to  walk  away.      his  words  seem  to  swelter,    tearing  at  every  nerve  -  ending,    slicing  her  from  root  to  tip      ;      it  would  be  so  easy,    heel  to  toe,    one  foot  in  front  of  the  other.      her  teeth  press  together,    an  uncomfortable  tightness  taking  hold  in  her  jaw.      the  sliver  glint  of  the  knife  was  in  his  hand,    and  now  it’s  buried  somewhere  deep  in  the  pit  of  her,    the  crimson  stain  of  her  own  sorrow  pouring  out  between  the  tips  of  her  fingers,    and  she  knows  .  .  .      she  knows  how  it  got  there,    how  she  should  have  left  well  enough  alone,    how  she  should  have  known  better  than  to  back  herself  into  the  same  corner  time  and  time  again,    prey  sitting  pretty  for  the  next  predator  in  line.      and  it  would  be  so  easy,    so  painfully  easy,    heel  to  toe,    one  foot  in  front  of  the  other.    until  she  stands  close  enough  to  reach  out,    fist  her  hands  in  the  softness  of  his  shirt,    draw  him  close  enough  to  end  things  once  and  for  all.      she  thinks  she  could  do  it.      she  knows  she  could  do  it.      she  wheels  around  on  shaky  legs,    stalks  across  the  room,    pointedly  ignoring  the  crowd  that’s  gathered  to  watch.    after  all,    it  isn’t  every  day  you  see  two  people  on  the  same  side  duke  it  out.      ❛      you  think  you  know  everything,    don’t  you  ?      and  you  know  nothing.      my  god,    you  think  everyone’s  just  as  obsessed  with  her  as  you  are.      ❜      a  giggle  bubbles  up,    ghastly  and  dissonant.    because  it’s  almost  funny  that  they  have  the  same  weakness,    the  same  vulnerability.    his  makes  more  sense,    but  that’s  neither  here  nor  there.      ❛      how  brave  are  you,    nick  ?      lashing  out  at  everyone  who  tries  to  give  you  the  time  of  day  because  .  .  .      what  ?      does  she  not  give  you enough  attention anymore  and  now  you’re  sulking  about  it  ?      i  don’t  owe  you  an  explanation.      i  don’t  owe  anyone  an  explanation.      and  i  sure  don’t  owe  minjeong  an  explanation,    so  why  do  you  think  i  have  anything  to  say  to  her  ?      i’ve  said  all  that  i  need  to  say  right  here  and  right  now.      you,    on  the  other  hand  .  .  .      you  look  like  you  have  a  lot  you  need  to  express,    but  find  yourself  another  punching  bag,    nick.      ❜

[hellishfm]

astridthejohnson​:

“Hey, no need to convince me, okay? Remember, I’m Team Blair til we die,” Astrid responds out of pure habit, and kind of hates her choice of words once they’re already spilling out of her foolish mouth. It matters to her that Blair sees her own self worth, but it’s not something she would ever hold against her. What’s she gonna do, punish her for feeling insecure? Her siblings had always given her grace to grow out of that, and she would extend that her best friend any day of the week. She lets out a nervous laugh, not trying to hide her anxiety in any way, not in front of Blair. “I feel like I’ve been going out of my way to not have anything going on,” she sighs, aside from work that is. “Oh, today I healed a fever. That was a nice change of pace from training injuries. What about you?”

               ❛      come  on,    there’s  nothing  to  be  team  blair  about  until  i’m  out  there  saving  the  world.    hero  stuff    &    all  that.      ❜      the  lilt  of  her  words  is  nothing  more  than  an  innocuous  joke,    but  it  sours  quickly  on  her  tongue,    eyebrows  drawing  together.      who’s  to  say  that  she’ll  ever  be  out  there  saving  the  world  ?      who’s  to  say  that  she’ll  ever  be  any  good  at  it  ?      not  that  it  matters,    because  that  isn’t  what  astrid  means,    but  she  shakes  her  head  all  the  same,    plastering  a  smile  on  her  lips  to  show  her  best  friend  that  she’s  more  than  fine.    she’s  cool,    calm,    collected      —————      never  better    ;    as  expected.      ❛      and  i’m  proud  of  you  for  that  !      i  can’t  imagine  seeing  the  same  injuries  every  single  day.      i  know  it’s  never  boring,    but  it  has  to  be  monotonous,    no  ?      ❜      she  picks  at  the  skin  of  her  cuticle,    considering.      astrid  has  been  an  open  book  their  entire  friendship,    while  she  herself  has  been  closed  off  to  the  world.    it  isn’t  fair.    astrid  deserves  better,    more  honesty.      and  there’s  no  time  like  the  present  to  start,    before  she  chickens  out  and  shoves  her  head  back  into  the  sand.      ❛      i  .  .  .      got  into  a  fight  with  someone,    actually.    not  a  physical  fight  !      just  .  .  .    an  argument.    i  should  probably  apologize  to  him,    but  truthfully,    i  don’t  want  to.    does  that  make  me  a  bad  person  ?      ❜

[hellishfm]

petalshields​:​

“None taken,” Kane sighs through a thin huff of smoke. Laziness pins his body to the ground, but acknowledges Blair with a lull of his head. The sunglasses resting on the bridge of his nose hide pretty damning evidence that he’s baked, but it doesn’t take Sherlock Holmes to figure out the smell. He holds back a laugh. Busted. “Usually no one notices. ‘Cause no one else is…here.” He’s pretty sure they’re the only two demigods around. What’s he gonna do, check? No way. He outstretches an arm in Blair’s direction, not high enough to forget his manners, joint in hand. “You smoke?” Kane offers. “No pressure if not.”

               ❛      truthfully,    i  thought  this  spot  was  my  best  kept  secret.    you’re  the  first  person  i’ve  ever  seen  hanging  around  here.      ❜      it’s  one  of  her  favorite  places  to  escape  to,    really,    when  everything  starts  to  feel  like  it’s  all  too  much.    she  pauses  at  his  question,    silent  in  her  deliberation,    taking  the  time  to  examine  the  question  both  inside    &    out.    the  simple  answer  is  that  she  doesn’t,    had  never  thought  about  it,    would  never  be  caught  dead.    she  doesn’t  judge,    of  course,    but  it’s  hardly  her  thing.    the  complicated  answer  on  the  other  hand  .  .  .      her  head  cocks  to  the  side,    curiosity  shining  in  her  eyes.      ❛      don’t  laugh  but  i’ve  never  .  .  .      it’s  never  appealed  to  me.      ❜      she  winces  at  the  way  it  sounds  to  her  own  ears,    the  air  of  moral  superiority  she’s  tried  to  stamp  down,    and  she  rushes  to  explain,    tripping  over  her  words  as  she  goes.      ❛      not  that  i  judge  anyone  who  does,    because  i  don’t.    it’s  just  never  been  something  that  i’ve  considered  doing.    but  i  respect  people  who  do  and  .  .  .            ———      what  i’m  trying  to  say  is  that  i  don’t,    but  maybe  i’d  .  .  .      like  to  try  ?      what’s  it  like  ?      ❜

[hellishfm]

nickspencer​:

His eyes narrow as he looks over at her, a touch of disbelief coloring his eyes. Maybe he’s too jaded at this moment in time to believe words of goodwill, or maybe he just knows if he were in her position, he’d hate him too. “You don’t have to lie just to be polite, kid,” he mutters, “I’m not gonna go telling on you to her.” A larger than small part of him hates that he feels like he can’t get Min’s name out of his mouth. He wonders if his best friend feels the same. Nick can’t remember a time he’s ever really seen Blair be this stern, which is saying something considering she’s not really doing all that much, and he wonders where it comes for her. It’s puzzling, a bit of intrigue in his otherwise dreary and boring week. He tilts his head to the side, raising a brow. “You study me often or something? What, have you been trying to get me alone this whole time?” he asks, slipping into the comfortable familiarity of senseless flirting, devoid of any real connection this time, saying shit just to say it, watching her reaction just to try to read her.

               protest  rises  in  her  throat  like  bile,    cheeks  reddening  and  warming  with  shame.    she  detests  being  thought  of  as  a  kid,    a  child,    this  innocent  little  thing      —      she’s  not.    the  reality  is  that  she  hasn’t  been  in  quite  some  time,    not  with  the  way  the  world  seemingly  enjoys  swallowing  her  whole    &    regurgitating  her  all  the  same,    taking  bits  and  pieces  of  her  with  it  each  time,    over  and  over  again.    she  doesn’t  know  where  the  old blair  ends  and  the  new  blair  begins,    the  one  stripped  of  her  naivety,    her  ignorance.      all  she  knows  is  that  she’s  tired,    so  very  tired,    of  being  assumed  to  be  gentle,    pure,    soft.    her  hand  rises  to  stop  his  spiel,    theatric  and  exasperated.    at  least  she  tried  to  be  nice,    handle  him  with  the  kid  gloves  she  so  desperately  wishes  someone  would  use  towards  her.    and  just  like  that  .  .  .    something  inside  her  cracks,    the  remnants  of  her  resolve  shattering,    ragged    &    sharp,    slicing  through  the  one  last  tender  place  she  had  concealed.      ❛      you  know  what  ?      who  do  you  even  think  you  are  ?      don’t  call  me  ‘  kid,  ’    nick.    i’m  not  a  kid.    i’m  here,    just  like  you,    and  judging  by  the  level  -  five  pity  party  of  one  that  you’re  throwing  for  yourself,    i’m  doing  a  far  better  job  at  being  a  hero  than  you  could  ever  hope  to  be.    maybe  if  you  stopped  feeling  sorry  for  yourself  and  walking  around  with  your  tail  between  your  legs  only  to  lash  out  at  anyone  who  makes  the  mistake  of  being  nice  to  you  when  you’re  clearly  the  last  person  who  deserves  it  right  now,    you’d  feel  better.      ❜      her  chest  heaves,    outburst  startling  even  herself,    but  the  words  keep  coming.    the  flood  -  gates  have  opened,    they’re  past  the  point  of  no  return,    and  she  wonders  for  a  moment  so  brief  if  there’s  ever  going  to  be  any  coming  back  from  this.      ❛      i’m  not  going  to  lie  to  you,    nick.    from  afar,    i  actually  thought  that  you  were  salvageable.    even  when  minjeong  was  making  my  life  a living  hell  day  in  and  day  out  .  .  .    you  didn’t  do  anything  to  stop  her  of  course,    and  please  don’t  think  i  was  ever  expecting  you  to,    but  you  never  made  it  worse.    but  i  was  wrong.    you  two  deserve  each  other.    you’re  a  perfect  match.    birds  of  a  feather.      ❜      she  doesn’t  know  what  happened  between  the  two,    and  truthfully,    she  doesn’t  want  to.    it’s  far  from  being  her  circus  and  far  from  being  her  monkeys.    once  upon  a  time,    her  mother  had  told  her  to  be  careful,    that  sympathy  fell  somewhere  between  shit  and  syphilis  in  the  dictionary.    she’d  laughed  and  told  her  mother  that  she’d  never  feel  that  way,    that  she  could  never  be  so  cold.      now,    the  tips  of  her  fingers  feel  like  ice  where  she  clenches  her  hands  into  fists  at  her  side.      ❛      and  of  course  you’d  be  so  shallow  and  self  -  absorbed  to  think  that  i’d  want  to  be  alone  with  you.    i  was  here  because  i  felt  sorry  for  you.    contrary  to  popular  belief,    i  have  standards  now.    you  can  have  your  table  all  to  yourself.    i’m  done  trying  to  be  nice  to  you.      ❜      in  the  end,    it’s  almost  poetic    ;    the  girls  always  say  ‘  new  hair,    new  me,  ’    and  as  she  turns  on  her  heel  and  walks  away,    blonde  ponytail  swinging  tall  behind  her,    she  can’t  help  but  feel  that’s true.

[hellishfm]

moonsprks​:

open starter ig but it’s wack as hell so gl || @nlupdates​

“i just think that if we had more milfs on campus, it’d solve most of our problems. don’t you think?”

               ❛      i  don’t  know  .  .  .      don’t  you  think  it  would  cause  more  problems  ?      with  everyone  fighting  over  the  limited  amount  of  milfs,    i  mean.    unless  you’re  suggesting  we  find  an  abundance  of  milfs  ?      ❜

[hellishfm]

          ❛      i  don’t  mean  this  as  an  insult,    but  do  you  .  .  .      usually  sprawl  out  in  the  middle  of  the  floor  like  that,    or  should  i  call  for  help  ?      ❜      truth  be  told,    she  nearly  launched  herself  into  the  next  millennia  by  almost  tripping  over  him,    nose  buried  deep  in  the  spine  of  her  textbook.    then  again,    it’s  not  like  she  ever  expects  to  come  across  a  fellow  demigod  star  -  fished  out  in  the  middle  of  the  floor,    limbs  every  which  way,    oblivious  to  the  world.    she  almost  wishes  she  had  that  confidence.      ❛      if  you  do,    i  don’t  judge.    there’s  days  that  i  wish  i  could  do  that  too.    but  .  .  .      i’m  also  short,    and  not  nearly  as  lanky,    so  .  .  .    i’d  probably  get  stepped  on.      ❜          /          @petalshields​

[hellishfm]

solarstcrms​:​

“oh, for real? thanks, you’re the best! i’m gonna bother you all the time, just you wait. you’re easily my favorite person here by far.”  blair seems really nice, so they hope she doesn’t get annoyed easily. she’s the first person that’s really gone out of their way to help them out and now dylan knows they’ll constantly seek her out. but they can’t help it. they’ve never known other demigods beside their brother. and blair has the cutest palettes. their nose scrunches in thought and they let out a little laugh.  “super weird. nemean lion, not the makeup. but i like it so far. i’ve never been around this many demigods before. like, there’s people who see ghosts or set things on fire with their mind. and they create things or save people? crazy stuff. i just make tiktoks. this place is really gonna boost my numbers though.”  he grins, cheeky, then checks himself out in the mirror, observing all the angles giddily.  “it’s good! i always look sick when i try to wear pink but you made me so pretty.”  the gardens are gonna be so jealous today. they perk up at the thought, struck with an idea.  “wait, it’s missing something. what’s your favorite plant? quick!”

               ❛      hey,    it’s  not  a  bother  if  i  want  you  to  !      —      i  won’t  pass  up  the  compliment,    though  .  .  .      but  isn’t  your  brother  also  here  ?      how  would  he  feel  if  i’m  your  favorite  person  here  ?      ❜      laughter  accompanies  the  gentle  tease,    and  the  ease  at  which  it  comes  almost  surprises  her,    a  comfortability  taking  hold  that  she  welcomes.    they’re  far  nicer  than  most  of  the  people  she’s  run  into,    a  better  match  for  her  energy  than  the  dreary  sticks  in  the  mud  she  often  runs  into.      (    to  be  fair,    minjeong  and  her  crew  aren’t  so  much  sticks  in  the  mud  as  they  are  a  raging  conglomerate  of  bitches,    but  it’s  all  one  and  the  same,    blair  figures.    )      she  listens  to  dylan  even  as  she  packs  her  makeup  back  into  her  bag,    humming  empathetically  to  let  them  know  she’s  still  listening.    a  pang  hits  her,    but  she  does  her  best  to  swallow  around  it.    if  ghosts  and  lighting  things  ablaze  is  enough  to  give  dylan  pause,    they  don’t  need  to  know  about  her  .  .  .      ability.      some  things  are  better  left  unsaid.      ❛      it  takes  a  lot  of  getting  used  to,    but  before  you  know  it  .  .  .    it’ll  be  like  you’ve  been  here  the  whole  time.    it’s  nice  to  have  people  who  just    —    get  what  you’re  going  through.    it’s  also  nice  to  have  a  new  built  -  in  audience  for  your  channel  too,    i’m  sure.      ❜      she  remembers  how  jarring  it  was  when  she  arrived  at  nemean  lion.    they’re  already  adjusting  better  than  she  initially  expected,    and  the  thought  makes  her  smile.      ❛      oh  !      favorite  plant  ?      hm  .  .  .      is  it  weird  if  i  say  oleander  ?    it’s  really  pretty.    but  people  mistake  it  and  don’t  realize  that  it’s  dangerous  because  it’s  so  beautiful.    but  only  if  you  bother  it.    otherwise,    you  can  just  admire  it’s  beauty.    .  .  .      i’m  sorry,    that’s  really  weird,    isn’t  it  ?    what’s  your  favorite  plant  ?    it  has  to  be  more  interesting  than  mine.          ❜

[hellishfm]

astridthejohnson​:

Astrid can’t help but smile at her best friend’s complexion, easing with happiness to see the warmth in Blair’s shy expression. “I know you have a hard time with confidence so I’ll just be confident enough for the both of us, you look great,” she beams, tugging on her elbow. “Right!” Astrid responds back, and she tries to believe as she says it, like maybe saying it with conviction will force it to be true. “I was craving one, honestly,” she chuckles, already imagining how good the mango-pineapple one from The Boost Bar. “Definitely, uhhh…” Astrid starts, trying to remember anything going on in her life that she hasn’t already told Blair or isn’t horribly sad.

               ❛      i  don’t  have  a  hard  time  with  confidence  !    i  just    .  .  .      ❜      protest  dies  on  the  tip  of  her  tongue,    the  staccato  exhale  of  a  sigh  punctuating  her  unfinished  thought.    she  can’t  lie,    not  to  astrid    ;    at  least,    not  about  this      —      not  about  something  she's  so  easily  called  out  on.    her  jaw  snaps  shut    &    instead  she  hums,    allowing  herself  to  bask  in  the  compliment  if  only  for  a  moment.    it’s  funny,    in  a  way,    how  the  same  compliment  she’s  received  from  many  feels  like  a  gut  -  punch  from  astrid.    she  forces  a  smile  onto  glossed  lips    &    wills  away  the  gnawing  feeling  in  the  pit  of  her  stomach,    the  smolderings  of  something  she’s  gotten  far  too  good  at  tamping  down,    extinguishing  with  a  cold  wave  of  reality.    best  friends.    they’re  best  friends.      ❛      come  on,    there  has  to  be  something  !    what’s  going  on  in  that  pretty  little  head  of  yours  ?    it  feels  like  it’s  been  so  long  since  we’ve  done  this.      ❜      sure,    it’s  only  been  a  few  weeks  at  most,    but  blair  has  always  been  greedy.      ❛      i  live  vicariously  through  you,    you  know      —      you  always  have  something  fun  going  on.      ❜

[hellishfm]

                ❛      seriously,    any  time  you  need  to  borrow  something  or  look  through  what  i  have,    my  door  is  always  open.    i’m  happy  to  help  !      ❜      her  brightness  is  almost  infectious,    a  smile  tugging  at  the  corners  of  her  mouth,    and  she  can’t  help  it    —    it’s  nice  to  have  someone  new  around,    someone  without  the  baggage,    without  the  knowledge.    to  blair,    dylan  is  nothing  more  than  a  boy  with  dimples  and  an  affinity  for  botany.    to  dylan,    blair  is  certain  she’s  nothing  more  than  a  friendly  face  willing  to  be  nice.    and  that  in  and  of  itself  is  nice    —    no  expectations,    no  preconceived  notions,    no  drama  .  .  .      yet.    she  busies  herself  with  dusting  blush  onto  the  high  points  of  their  cheeks,    a  pink  hue  blooming  in  her  wake,    and  she  stands  back  to  admire  her  handiwork.    he  has  potential,    and  she  can  work  with  that.      ❛      how  are  you  liking  it  so  far  ?    nemean  lion,    i  mean.    not  your  makeup,    but  .  .  .    if  you  want  to  give  me  feedback  on  how  it’s  turning  out,    i  won’t  be  mad.    promise.      ❜     /     @solarstcrms​

[hellishfm]

ncxicus​:

          ❛    because  i  can  use  so  much  more  than  a  name,  blair - bear.    ❜    here,  she’ll  indulge  in  her  little  demand,  sort  of.  it’s  very  petty,  but  she’s  in  no  mood  to  be  merciful  when  she’s  actually  been  giving  some  slack  in  the  past  minutes.  blair  just  had  to  push,  had  to  stick  and  see  instead  of  walking  away.  minjeong  doesn’t  ask  so  much  from  her,  but  if  the  blonde  wants  to  give  the  attention  on  a  silver  plater,  she’ll  eat  from  it.  turns  to  fully  face  her  for  the  first  time  in  this  little  meeting,  bottle  in  one  hand,  lets  her  other  reach  over  to  tuck  a  few  strays  behind  blair’s  ear.    ❛    i  do  mean  it.    ❜    there’s  a  certain  aura  about  this  change,  it  seems  to  give  the  girl  an  edge  she’s  always  been  lacking  in  minjeong’s  eyes.  now,  of  course  she  won’t  believe  her  words,  but  the  twisted  enjoyment  minjeong  gets  from  making  the  other  squirm  in  doubt  pushes  her  to  give  a  piece  of  mind  nonetheless.    ❛   you  should  keep  it  longer  than  you  intended  to,  it  suits  your  angel  face.    ❜    her  way  to  ask  why  only  temporary,  knowing  well  the  other  might  find  some  issues  in  making  anything  permanent.  

a  touch  so  gentle,    so  unassuming  .  .  .      minjeong  might  as  well  have  reached  out  and  slapped  her  with  the  way  her  skin  crawls,    shrinking  away  from  the  hovering  hand,    diverting  her  gaze  downward.    she  makes  herself  smaller,    almost  impossibly  so    ;    she’s  the  perfect  prey,    all  soft  edges  and  careful  hesitation,    painfully  still  under  the  watchful  eye  of  a  predator.      ❛      it  wasn’t  supposed  to  be  a  permanent  thing.      ❜      it’s  nothing  more  than  a  whisper,    doe  -  eyes  still  refusing  to  meet  those  of  the  girl  in  front  of  her.    she  knows  this  game,    yet  she  still  finds  herself  a  step  or  three  behind  despite  knowing  the  rules.    minjeong  has  always  been  a  gamble  and  the  dealer  has  never  been  fair,    but  the  softness  here  somehow  seems  too  cruel  even  for  her,    the  twisting  of  the  knife  buried  between  the  curve  of  her  shoulder  blades.    she  wants  off  this  ride.      ❛      have  you  ever  thought  that  being  an  angel  is  a  little  bit  overrated ?    if  it  suits  the  angel  image  so  much,    maybe  i’m  not  all  that  interested  in  keeping  it  around  for  long.    this  conversation  really  had  the  opposite  effect.      ❜      it’s  nothing  more  than  posturing,    they  both  know,    all  talk  with  nothing  to  back  it  up.    she  takes  a  step  back,    putting  enough  distance  between  them  so  she  can  take  a  deep  inhale  and  finally  breathe.      ❛      can  you  move  this  time,    actually  ?    i’d  like  to  get  something  to  drink  before  training.      ❜

[hellishfm]

nickspencer​:

“Yeah,” he answers, curt, not really bothering to be offended or sorry for offending her. He gets why, he knows the only times he ever really sees her on campus, Minjeong is always there, always cutting into her defenses. “Like you want my company,” he laughs, but it’s small and quiet and dry and clearly devoid of any real amusement other than to imagine the two of them actually having a nice conversation. “You’re better off having some peace and quiet, right? No big bad monsters to bother you,” Nick gripes as he stands and instantly regrets his choice of words. Whatever.

               ❛      who’s  to  say  that  i  don’t  ?      —      i  don’t  have  a  problem  with  you,    you  know.    i’m  .  .  .      sorry  if  my  approach  led  you  to  think  that.      ❜      perhaps  she’s  soft  to  a  fault,    an  open  canvas  for  the  world  to  sink  its  teeth  into.    perhaps  she’s  more  of  a  lesson  to  learn  from,    an  example  of  what  not  to  do  and  how  not  to  be,    than  she  is  a  creature  of  goodwill  .  .  .    trusting  too  much,    feeling  too  much,    caring  too  much.    always  too  much.    still,    despite  digging  deep,    she  can’t  find  it  in  herself  to  be  cold  towards  him,    gaze  following  his  rising  figure  curiously.    he  looks  worn,    frayed  at  the  edges,    like  the  last  of  his  resolve  is  seconds  away  from  crumbling  right  out  from  underneath  him.    it  isn’t  a  sight  she  relishes  in,    isn’t  something  she  feels  gleeful  about.    instead,    it’s  pity.    she  pointedly  ignores  the  bark  and  bite  behind  his  words.    he  and  minjeong  might  be  one  and  the  same,    and  that’s  not  really  her  business,    but  she’s  exhausted  with  stooping  to  that  level  and  trying  to  pick  herself  up  from  the  ground  floor  in  the  end.    whatever  game  it  is  they  like  to  play,    she’s  no  longer  player  one.      ❛      you’re  right.    i  don’t  get  a  lot  of  it.    and  i  really  don’t  mean  this  harshly,    but  you  look  like  you  could  use  some  yourself.    so  the  offer  is  there  if  you  want  to  sit  and  enjoy  it  with  me.    if  you  don’t,    i’ll  see  you  around  campus.      ❜