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#I guess the writers knew they couldn’t get rid of her permanently
fantasystar14 · 7 months
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SHE’S COMING BACK!!!!
My girl is BACK reluctantly!
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oitommothetease · 3 years
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Invisible String (15/15)
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female reader (Modern AU)
Word Count: 3.2k words
Warning : fluff, smut, Steve being nice for once, mention of assault, healthy communication, drinking, Bec is Bucky’s sister - Rebecca, talk about therapy, fucking on a dressing table, I added the link for the dressing table so it could be easier to imagine lol
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Both of you were far from okay, Bucky knew that. You needed time and energy to put in this relationship, and Bucky would patiently wait and giddily put in the work required. 
Just like last time all those months ago, Bucky prepared a plate of fruits with juice for you. If you'd let him in your life, then one thing was sure — you were never having that damn coffee for breakfast. How did you even survive? Breakfast is the most important meal of the day, and Bucky was baffled when he found out you functioned on nothing but caffeine.
 “Good Morning!” he greeted, you were awake and seated on the couch. “I got you breakfast that isn't caffeine.”
You didn't meet his eyes, but smiled timidly nevertheless. You cringed at your immaturity. Getting drunk instead of having a proper conversation like adults was not your wisest decision. Your last conversation was horrid. What was worse was that he was still being so nice to you when all you wanted was for the ground to open and swallow you whole. It was embarrassing.
You avoided his gaze, and Bucky didn't press the matter any further.
You exhaled loudly and requested, “We need to talk.”
Here it was, Bucky thought. He hoped you both could at least have breakfast blissfully, ignoring the elephant in the room. But he assumed the sooner, the better. Bucky took a seat beside you on the office couch.
“I’m sorry.”
 “I’m sorry.”
Both of you apologized at the same time. Bucky continued, “What I did was a fucked up thing to do. I had no right to decide for you. I'm sorry for hurting you.”
 “I’m sorry for handling the situation immaturely. It was dumb to get drunk and act like that.”
Bucky nodded, he didn't need your apology. He was the one who was at fault here. Although, he would never acknowledge this, but he was glad you got drunk and came to him. He wasn’t smart enough to realize his mistake and if he continued with his stubbornness, then he would have lost you.
Instinctively, he took your palm in his, lacing your fingers with his and placing the entwined hands on his lap. “I — The incident with Rumlow and the kidnapping affected me a lot. More than I would like to admit,” you acknowledged, “And I don't think I’m dealing with everything healthily.”
“What do you need me to do?”
You sighed and propped your head on his shoulder. “Just be there for me.”
Bucky raised your intertwined hands, pressing a kiss on your knuckles, “Always.”
“I don't want our bakery to be just a dream,” he sounded so unsure that you raised your head to look at him. “I want to get out of this life — of the club.” 
“Can you even do that?” You weren’t very knowledgeable about his business, but from what you've gathered getting out wasn't an option.
“I talked with Sam and Steve, and it would take a while, but it's not impossible. I’d have to put in a lot of money, and it will take time, maybe even years, but it can be done.”
For the millionth time, Bucky left you speechless. You didn't want him to change his entire life because of you. You loved Bucky and you would take him just the way he was. With his good and bad, albeit there wasn't anything bad. “Do you want that?”
He looked at you in offense. To him, you sounded insane. Of course, he wanted that. All he ever wanted was a serene life, and now he could have that life with you in it, you were double guessing your worth. Maybe he didn't think this through, but there was no need to question his choice. Bucky was sure of one thing in his life. “I want you. I want you in my life and I want my ma and Bec. And I can't have the most important people in my life if I don’t leave this behind. So yes, this is what I want.”
You smiled at him, and he would kill to make that smile a permanent residence on your face, you didn’t want him to make this crucial decision in his life because of you.
“Plus, maybe some chocolate essence would finally break you out of your writer's block,” Bucky teased, quoting the words you said to him all those days ago and you giggled.
The rest of the morning was spent in comfortable silence as you both ate breakfast.
Bucky wanted to tell his friends about his decision, and he wanted you there beside him. You were terrified, you finally made friends with someone, and now they were going to hate you because you were taking their friend away from him. And Steve already hated you, that wasn't the impression you were planning on forming on his best friend.
To your dismay, everyone looked pleased with the verdict. Turns out, all of them hated hiding their families too. You should have known — worrying every second about your loved ones could make one very restless. 
It was finally decided that the club would just be that — a club. No more side businesses or illegal deals or enemies like Rumlow — it would just be a normal club. The club would go to Sam and Steve, and Wanda would take Clint’s place as the manager. It was also collectively decided that Peter had to go. He was just a kid who wanted to make money for his college tuition. Which now would be paid fully by Bucky. Peter could still work at the club as a part-time job, but he had to go to college too.
It was satisfying to see all of them so content with this decision. You expected at least Steve to interject, but he looked pleased too. What you did not expect was for Steve to approach you and start a conversation with you. You were just standing on the balcony while everyone was celebrating. You told Bucky you needed some air when he asked you what was wrong.
“He really likes you, you know.” 
“I hope so,” you joked, and you saw a smile forming on Steve's lips. Progress, you thought to yourself.
“I haven't been the nicest person to you and I’m sorry for that.”
You looked at Steve in disbelief. Okay, you weren't expecting that. “I don’t know why you hate me. I mean, we barely know each other,” you replied, honestly.
Steve inhaled sharply as he said, “I knew Buck since we were kids. He never hid anything from me until a few months ago.”
What has that to do with you? You looked at him puzzled and he continued, “He attacked Rumlow. Around 3 months ago, he attacked him and we never attack first — always retaliate. That's why Rumlow came after you because Bucky started the fight. I knew it had something to do with you, but he just wouldn't tell me.”
And just like that, you knew exactly what he was talking about. The timing matched with Rumlow’s attempt to inappropriately touch you without consent. 
“I — Rumlow came here during my shift,” you stammered, you didn't know how to tell him. You wanted to heal, you wanted people to know on your accord with your permission. And you wanted Steve to know. “I told him no - several times, but he just wouldn’t stop touching.”
You wanted to be able to talk about this without breaking down every time. And that was a good enough start, you knew Bucky would be proud of you.
Steve's expression morphed into one of guilt immediately. He was smart enough to join the dots, and he felt like an idiot for blaming you and Bucky. “I’m so sorry.”
 “Don't be,” you smiled at him, “You didn't know.”
Steve didn’t know how to react. He felt like a dick — he was a dick for not even considering your point of view. Bucky kept saying that he couldn't tell and Steve should have understood or taken the hint, but he was so mad at you that it blinded his judgement.
The conversation turned uneasy, so you quickly changed the topic and retorted to a joke. “Did you know that Bucky owns a customized t-shirt that says ‘I heart Y/N’?”
Steve chortled a laugh and said, “Now that I do, I’m never gonna stop teasing him about it.”
“It was cute, okay?” you defended.
“Sure it was,” he huffed, “Would you and Bucky like to come for dinner this weekend? Sarah misses her Uncle Bucky and to date Bucky for real you would definitely need her approval.”
***
You examined yourself in the mirror as you straightened the outfit you decided to wear for dinner. You wondered whether it would impress a four-year-old.
Bucky stood behind you, fixing the collar of his shirt.
“I’m kinda nervous,” you confessed.
He furrowed his brows in bewilderment, snaking his arms around you from behind, pulling you against his chest. He whispered in your ears, sending a chill down your spine. “You look gorgeous, doll.”
You sighed, resting your head on his shoulder. He gently rubbed his thumbs along your clothed stomach, and you felt calmer. His touch had that effect on you. His touch and presence was enough to make you feel content and for the first time in your life, you weren’t scared. You weren't running away from your vulnerabilities — no, you were swimming into it. And you weren't scared of drowning because you knew Bucky was holding you.
 “I love you,” you breathed, “I love you so much, Buck.”
Bucky extended one of his hands towards your face and gently held your chin between his fingers. Lightly, he rubbed his thumb across your lower lip before lifting your face sideways, claiming your lips with his in a tender and slow kiss. “I love you so much, doll. More than humanly possible.”
Your eyes brimmed with tears and you kissed him again reverently, “Do we have time to spare?” 
“We always have time,” Bucky mumbled against your lips, turning you in his arms to face him. 
Both of you were so eager to feel each other that you didn't even get rid of your clothes completely — just enough to feel the other. He held your hips and lifted you on the dressing table, and you facilitated by spreading your legs open.
Bucky didn't waste a second before diving his tongue inside your mouth, making you feel dizzy with just the intensity of the kiss. One hand in your hair, the other running up your back to hold your neck, craning your skull to give him better access to your mouth. He devoured you like you were a delicious meal that he was starving to taste. 
The hand in your hair hastened towards your breast, squeezing your covered nipple enough to make you gasp into his mouth and get your core wet. He did the same with the other before his hand continued its journey towards your cunt.
Bucky didn't waste any time — quickly, he pushed your dripped panties out of his way and his fingers teased your slit before one digit made its way inside you. His mouth left yours, and he nibbled your jaw and reached the lobe of your ear before whispering, “I’ve barely touched you and you're already so wet for me, pretty girl.”
Before you could react to his lewd words, another finger entered your willing cunt and you clenched around him. “Bucky,” you breathed, your voice barely audible with the intensity of your oncoming orgasm. “Want you now, baby.”
Suddenly, his digits retreated, leaving you empty, whimpering and clenching around nothing. He gave a few quick strokes to his already hard cock before plunging inside you and muffling your cries by crashing his lips with yours. 
He gave you time to adjust to his length and when you nodded, he started thrusting in an enticing speed that had you grasping him around your cunt. Every push of his cock had you seeing stars. All that pent-up anticipation and sexual frustration had you coming in no time, but Bucky didn't relent. “Give me one more, sweet girl.”
His hand reached in between your bodies, instantly locating your clit, and you moaned loudly against his shoulder. Bucky toyed with your ear lobe, gently biting then moving downwards to the spot between your neck and clavicle. He licked before sucking harshly and then licking again to soothe the pain. You held his back so tightly that you were sure it must be hurting him, but he didn't complain, instead he growled in your ear as you tried to hold him inside you — tighter than before.
His hand was running calculated circles on your clit combined with his ruthless pace, and you were reaching your second orgasm faster than you imagined. “Bucky, I’m gonna —”
“I know, baby,” he groaned in your ear, increasing his pace, and a moment ago you didn't think that was possible.
You both reached your high together as he released his seed inside you, and that solely had you nearing your third orgasm. Bucky noticed and smirked before his still hand started running circles on your bundle of nerves again and gave you a few languid thrusts that made you reach the euphoria where you hadn't been before.
He held you, brushing your hair off your face, rubbing his thumb across your forehead to rid you of the sweat, praising you for being such a good girl for him. Once you were back from the land of bliss, he cleaned you both up before straightening your dress out — making you appear like he didn't fuck your brains out on a dressing table.
***
“Traffic,” you lied while Bucky smirked as he placed his hand on the small of your back.
Sam looked at you - both of you with a playful look in his eyes and Steve bought your lie without a second question.
As you entered the living room, you were met with a kid that reminded you a lot of Alec and Izzy. “Uncle Bucky,” she squealed before jumping in the arms of a bent down Bucky.
She stretched a hand towards you and said, “Sarah.”
You smiled at her and took her hand in yours before giving her your name. She looked at you with so much delight in her eyes that had you melting in a second. Oh, that reminded you, “Babe, the cake.”
“Oh, right,” Bucky scrambled to his feet and made his way towards the car to bring the gift you two brought for the family.
“Did you make it, Uncle Bucky,” Sarah asked as Bucky handed her the cake. She grinned when he nodded, “I’m gonna eat all of this myself.”
Bucky smiled, “It's all for you, sweetie.”
She held the cake in one hand and your hand in another before rushing into the kitchen with you.
Sam handed Bucky a glass of a drink that he didn't even notice because his gaze was fixed on you helping Steve and Sarah. You said something to Steve and he laughed loudly. When did you and Steve become friends? He wondered.
“Traffic, huh?” Sam teased Bucky once his daughter was out of their hearing range. Bucky nearly choked on the drink and coughed in embarrassment.
Sam eyed Bucky mischievously and told him to take a seat on the table. Bucky didn't listen and if he did then he pretended to ignore Sam’s words and made his way to the kitchen - to you.
You yelped when you felt two strong hands engulf you from behind, calming down only when Bucky chuckled and whispered in your ear, “Hey, it's only me, doll.”
Eventually, everyone made their way to the dinner table. The food was amazing, some of it was made by Sam - some of it by Steve. Sam’s cooking was clearly better, but Bucky told you not to tell him that because then Sam would get all smug about it. Bucky’s hand rested on your upper thigh for the entirety of the meal.
It brought you back to the time when you both were at your parents’ place and even then the gesture was so welcomed by your body and you. Although you always told him about how inappropriate a relationship with him would be, you secretly hoped that he would call you out on your bullshit. Anyone with eyes could see that you wanted him since the very beginning. Well, anyone except Bucky.
After dinner, Sarah went to bed and it was just you, Bucky, Sam and Steve situated in their living room with a drink in everyone’s hand. 
“The cake was amazing,” you told Bucky when he took a seat beside you on the sofa. Bucky wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you closer and held your outer thighs with his other before placing you on his lap. You wrapped your hands around his shoulder and awkwardly looked around at Sam and Steve, exhaling in relief when you found them busy in their own conversation, oblivious to their friend’s antics.
“I can make cakes forever for you, doll.”
“Well, you'd have to make cakes forever if you wanna open a bakery,” you sassed and he laughed before pressing a kiss to your cheek.
You beamed at him, placing your head against his shoulder, “I’ve been thinking. With everything that has happened with Rumlow and my family. I think I’ve not dealt with all of it and it still bothers me.”
Nervously, you looked at him and found him already gazing at you with a look so patient and intense. You could see his adoration for you swirl around his eyes and you hoped he could see that same emotion reflecting in your eyes.
“And I don’t want to burden you with my shit, I think I’m gonna start therapy.”
He cupped your face in his palms and you looked at him anxiously. It was a big step - your relationship with him - finally acknowledging that you carried trauma that is affecting your life in more ways that you would like to admit. “Whatever you need, honey. I will be there for you.”
You leaned into his touch, craning your neck before pressing a kiss on his palm. “Did you think you'd be crazy for me when I walked in for the bartender's job?”
He laughed at your teasing words, holding your chin between his fingers and dipped his head down to kiss you. “I love you,” he mumbled against your lips, “And I have a feeling that we’ll be alright.” 
“We’ll be alright,” you repeated his words. It was a promise of a happy and hopeful future - a future you were going to have with him. ”I love you.” You sealed the promise with your lips on his.
TAGS: @bananapipedreams​ @akkinda10​ @rivers-rambles21​ @emmabarnes​ @valsworldofcreativity​ @boofy1998​ @marvel-3407​ @mybuck​ @priii​ @coffeebooksandfandom​ @ladydmalfoy​ @shaking-a-jar-of-bees @elizamalfoyy​ @maladaptivexxdaydreaming​ @sabrinathesimp @realgaytrash​ 
Taglist for future stuff. 
A/N - I had an epilogue planned but idk - this feels very complete to me and I'm scared that if I add anything then it'll ruin the end. I think I'll take a day, think it through, try writing the epilogue and if I ended up liking it. Then of course, you'll get it. Bye Take care!! 
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thereallordgrape · 3 years
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I FINISHED THE LAST SEASON OF STAR VS.
Lowkey proud of myself since it’s not often I finish shows that fast.
A few things:
1. I’m happy Eclipsa and her family are permanently together now. Seeing them together makes me happy, and I can see why Eclipsa loves Globgor😏 lol.
2. I’m sad the magic is ‘gone’ but is it truly gone since all the dimensions are combined???
3. At some point they mentioned Earth people might have been the actual first Mewmans and they could have touched on that, but I guess it’s fine they didn’t. 🙃
4. Mina literally gets to walk away after all the terror she caused??? I guess they threw in a little of her background to make us understand why she’s so dedicated, but she’s so annoying. Not to mention a nuisance, how come she wasn’t kept somewhere she couldn’t wonder amock? Who threw her into Earth in the first place?? (I don’t remember them saying anything about it). Moon should have known better than to setup a plan with someone who’s clearly lost their marbles. She’s quick to distrust Eclipsa who’s been frozen for centuries and had her history tampered with in the books by the High Comission, but not the ex soldier they clearly banished for obvious reasons??
5. Speaking of, I’m surprised Star forgave her mother so easily when it’s kind of her fault they had to get rid of magic. Also the High Comission, which are an annoying group as well. They should be held accountable for their actions (I know Rombulus (?) and that space dude are no longer operating but what about Hekapoo? Marco knows how heavily they were involved with Queen Moon’s plan how come he didn’t say anything?
6. Now about Marco, he was alright. I like how he was with Mariposa and I think he will be a good older brother. I really like his relationship with Tom, and his relationship with Star was alright. Like I didn’t hate it, but when he said he loved her at first sight I call bullshit. Maybe he thought Star was cute but not in love at first sight. Not that I don’t believe in the concept, but Marco for two whole seasons was all over Jackie. It wasn’t until Star said she had a crush on him at the end of season 2 did he start to get conflicted, and I think the Blood Moon Ball any have affected those feelings as well. But once they broke the curse, he seemed fine with the idea of not being with Star.
7. About Star, I don’t entirely agree with why Tom broke up with her. He said he did soul searching and just needed to let her go, but he has a lot of moments where he had the opportunity to‘soul search’ early on in the previous seasons. I think it was just a reason for Star to get with Marco and have both of their exes push it. Even Jackie said Marco should be with Star, but I just feel as though they (the writers) are trying to push their relationship. Again I don’t have issue with Starco, but they are just as fine as friends. Besides Star should be the main one doing some soul searching after the topsy turvy, life-changing events she’s been through. I still think she hasn’t completely figured out what she’s going to do with herself anyway. And that’s fine! She’s only 15(?) so she has enough time.
8. Tom is still cool to me, he has definitely come far by the end of the show and he became more than the ‘ex boyfriend’ trope which I appreciate. I like how he bonded with Marco too as the story progressed. Janna is alright, she didn’t do much accept be quirky and help Star and the others find loopholes, which is alright. Ponyhead is alright, I wasn’t a big fan of her character anyway (although I’m confused about her relationship with Seahorse. Are they together or is it a one-sided thing)? River had his annoying moments but I respect him for doing what he could to help out Globgor. I doubt he knew what Moon was up to but I think he would’ve been disappointed if he found out. I think the Spiderbite princess and that Slime Monster are cute. I’m also happy about Buff Frog and his family, same for Ludo and his siblings.
9. Overall, not bad but I wonder how everything will pan out since all these worlds are mashed together. That’s what fanfic is for I guess!
I’ll probably start watching HxH or catch up on BNHA next.
(If you read this far, thanks 😅 and sorry for rambling I typed all of this on my phone🙃)
@laylaylamode
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mrsgreenworld · 4 years
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Whoo-hoo!!! Finally! The second chapter of "A Technicality" is here. Hope you enjoy it as much as the first part 🤞
I don't own the show or any of the characters. All of them belong to the writers, production company and FOX channel. This is only fanfiction.
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A Technicality. Chapter 2
Serkan tried really hard to blink through the fog before his eyes. There was a strange noise ringing in his ears. The sound of a familiar voice got to him through the noise:
"Serkan, canım benim, can you hear me?..."
And then:
"How long is he gonna be like this?"
He squeezed his eyes shut.
"Look! He closed his eyes! Serkan? Dear? Can you hear me? Please, look at me!"
Serkan opened his eyes slowly, blinking a couple of times, before he finally managed to focus on the first thing in his line of vision - his mother's worried face.
Aydan Bolat looked distressed to say the least. She also looked like someone with no tears left to cry. Serkan's heart squeezed painfully at the thought. He dragged his eyes from his mother to glance around. It seemed like he was in a hospital room, with him half-sitting, half-lying on a hospital bed, an IV attached to his left arm.
"Mom? What's going on? How did I get here?" he croaked out.
His voice sounded strangely dry and rough, even to his own ears.
"Hold on a second, I will get you some water," Aydan Hanım grabbed a water cup with a straw from a nightstand near the bed.
Serkan took the cup from his mother's hands and started gulping down a chilly liquid, foregoing the straw.
"Careful, dear! You're gonna choke like that!"
Serkan didn't really seem to care. He greedily emptied the cup and then just blindly handed it back to his mother. Upon looking around once again, Serkan noticed a nurse, who was checking something in his medical chart.
"I will let the doctor know your son came around," the nurse addressed his mother and left the room.
"Mom, can you tell me what's happening? Why am I here?" Serkan inquired yet again.
"Well, you went into shock. You just froze and were completely unresponsive so Engin had to bring you to the hospital".
"I went into shock?" Serkan repeated dumbly.
His mother just nodded mutely and a shadow fell over her face.
"You called me. You called me and you said..."
Serkan felt all of it coming back to him - the overwhelming fear and crippling pain brought by his mother's words, the words she had said to him over the phone - "I am so sorry, dear".
"You said you were sorry. Why? Why were you sorry?"
"Canım benim, please, you need to calm down!"
"What's happening? Where is she? Where is Eda?" he almost yelled the last question.
"She's alive!" his mother did yell the words, grabbing Serkan by the shoulders and making him look at her.
"She's alive," Aydan Hanım repeated, lowering her voice.
Serkan nodded and exhaled loudly.
"But..."
"But?"
Aydan Hanım cupped one of Serkan's cheeks, while tears started running down her own.
"There was a car accident. She was driving. Then something broke down, I guess. She crossed to the oncoming traffic lane. Her car crashed head-on into a truck".
"Her car? Her car broke down?" Serkan mumbled.
A hysterical laughter bubbled up in his throat. Her car. God, he hated it with passion. How many times had it broken down before? How many times had he told her to fix it? Why hadn't she done it? Why hadn't he insisted on just getting rid of the damn thing and buying her a new car?
Serkan rubbed at one of his temples, where he felt a splitting headache had started to form.
"How do you... How do you know all of this?"
"Me and Seyfi, we were visiting Ayfer Hanım, when she got a phone call from the hospital. When they managed to get Eda out of the car, they checked her phone for the emergency contacts. Obviously, her aunt was the first one," Aydan Hanım explained.
Serkan nodded in understanding.
"Where is she now? You said she is alive. So everything is fine. She's gonna be fine, right?"
Aydan Bolat gave her son a look that he didn't like one bit.
"Canım, her heart was not beating when the ambulance came. They managed to bring her back, but... she flatlined twice on the way to the hospital. And now she's still in the surgery".
"No... no-no-no... what... what are you saying? What do you mean she flatlined? And how... why is she still in the surgery?"
Serkan knew he was rambling and spiralling and basically not making any sense. But what his mother had told him was making even less sense. No, it was - all of it - just one big cosmic joke. None of it was real.
Serkan grabbed at the needle, attaching his arm to the IV, just ripped the thing out and hustily got up from the bed.
"Serkan, baby, what are you doing? Where are you going? You need to rest, to calm down. You cannot go anywhere in such a state!" his mother tried to reason with him.
"I need to see Eda. Where is she?"
"I told, you, canım, she's in the surgery. They won't let you see her".
"Where is the surgery?"
"Darling..."
"Where is it, Mom???!!!" Serkan yelled, making his mother jump and yelp quietly.
"Sorry. I am sorry, Mom," Serkan apologized immediately for his outburst. "But I need to get there. Please, show me which surgery she is in. I need to be as close to her as I can get".
"Tamam, canım," his mother relented.
They left the hospital room and Serkan saw Engin, Pırıl as well as Leyla and Seyfi waiting at the door.
"Are you ok, Abi? We were worried about you," Engin said, his voice strained with concern.
"I am not the one you should be worried about," Serkan dropped, striding with purpose.
When all of them got to the surgery Aydan Hanım said Eda was in, Serkan saw the girls - all in various state of distress. Ayfer Hanım was restless, pacing in front of the sliding doors, leading to the surgery room. When she noticed Serkan and all the others approaching, she stopped.
"And what are you doing here?"
"You know what we are doing here. We are all worried about Eda," Serkan responded calmly, trying to remain understanding. "Do you have any news? Has the doctor come out to talk to you?"
"And who are you to ask me that?" Ayfer Hanım scoffed right into his face.
It was the contempt she said the words with that got to Serkan.
"Who am I? You want to know who I am? I am the man whose whole damn life is right there now, behind these doors!"
Serkan felt his mother touch his arm.
"Canım, please, calm down".
"Calm down? You want me to calm down? When I might very well be losing everything?!"
"All of us here are losing her, you know," Ayfer Hanım's resigned voice pulled Serkan's attention back to her.
"Well, I am the only one who won't survive it," Serkan told with raw honesty, looking her dead in the eye.
He wondered what exactly Ayfer Yıldız saw in his eyes in that moment. What was it exactly that made her nod mutely? Was it a primal terror? Or hot agony? Cold desperation? Maybe his bleeding loving heart? Or, perhaps, all of it, all at once?...
Whatever that was, it allowed Serkan and his mother, along with all the others, to stay and wait. Wait for any scrap of news, any sign that Eda was gonna be ok.
Two hours later the doors, keeping Eda from Serkan and everyone else, finally opened and a completely run down doctor came out. Everyone got into motion, surrounding the doctor and talking over each other, bombarding a poor man with questions.
"Friends, please, calm down. I will answer all the questions to Eda Hanım's immediate family. Who's her next of kin?" the doctor asked.
"I am. I am her aunt," Ayfer Hanım said.
The doctor looked at everyone else, who had formed quite a crowd.
"These are all close friends, some are pretty much family. You can say whatever you have to say with everyone present," Ayfer Hanım commented.
The doctor nodded.
"Ok, then. Eda Hanım received some very serious injuries in the accident. There's head trauma, a punctured lung, fractured and broken bones. There is a chance of permanent damage to her musculoskeletal system. The next few hours will be critical".
"So, what... what do we do now?" Serkan asked nervously.
"I suggest you pray," the doctor said with a morbid expression on his face.
Ayfer Hanım let out a loud sob. All Serkan could hear were cries, sobs and pained whines of various volume and intensity.
"What... what do you mean pray? That's your advice? What kind of doctor are you?" Serkan started attacking the man in white.
"Tamam, canım, calm down. It's not the doctor's fault. I am sure he's done everything he could," his mother tried to placate him.
"Well, it's not enough, obviously! We need another doctor! We have to find the best doctors!"
"Ok, we will. We will," his mother said soothingly.
She mouthed an apology to the doctor and took Serkan by the arm to drag him aside.
"You're not going to help Eda by attacking her doctor. We need to stay calm and strong, for her sake. Okay?" Aydan Bolat addressed her son.
Serkan exhaled loudly, all anger and frustration leaving him along with breath.
"Okay, canım?" his mother asked, peering at him intently.
"Okay. But I want to hear what other doctors have to say. We need to find the best ones".
"We will. Leave it to me. I will take care of it".
Serkan nodded and in that very moment the doors to the surgery slid open once again and two nurses rolled out a gurney with Eda.
Everyone moved, trying to get closer to Eda, while the nurses told to stay away and let them take her to a room in intensive care unit. Serkan was looking at the scene, transfixed, rooted to the spot. He couldn't bring himself to move closer. Because it wasn't Eda over there, it couldn't be. So small, her head bandaged, face littered with cuts and scratches.
Serkan felt someone squeeze his hand and turned his head, only to see his mother's face, wet from tears and shadowed by grief.
"I will start making calls now. We'll get the best doctors for Eda. She's gonna be okay," despite the tears, Aydan Bolat's voice didn't waver.
Serkan could only nod mutely, willing his mother's words to come true.
Please, let her be okay.
___________________________________________
The next few days were filled with torturous wait and useless doctors. None of the ones his mother had found were any good. All of them said the same things. So Serkan took it upon himself to find the best of the best. He organised a private flight on his jet for a surgeon from America. The surgeon was said to be one of his kind, the best in the world. If he wasn't able to help, then no one would.
However, the prodigy doctor told pretty much what all other doctors had said. How there was only so much medicine could do, how they had to just wait, hope for a miracle and pray.
After the talk with the doctor Serkan just couldn't stand being inside the hospital anymore, so he went out for some fresh air. That's how his mother found him - pacing in front of the main entrance, rubbing at his temples, contemplating what to do next.
Aydan Bolat approached her son carefully, as one would a wild and wounded animal.
"Canım..."
"Not now, Mom! I want to be left alone. I need to think. I need to find a way, find the best doctor who will help us".
"Serkan, my baby boy, that is the best doctor. And he said..."
"I don't care what he said! We'll find another one, a better one. He's not the best if he cannot help".
"Canım, sometimes no one can help. Even the best. There's nothing anyone can do..."
"Stop it! I don't wanna hear it! If you cannot help, then just... Don't say anything at all".
Aydan Hanım put her hands up in surrender.
"Okay, as you wish".
"Just... Don't ask me to give up".
"I am not asking you to give up. I will never ask you to give up. And I will never, ever, do it myself. But I need you to accept the reality of what's happening".
Serkan stopped his mad pacing and turned to his mother. Aydan Bolat saw the look of absolute defeat on her son's face.
"How did I allow this to happen? Why did I allow it?" Serkan muttered dejectedly.
"What?... Darling, it was an accident, you couldn't have possibly..."
"I am not talking about the accident, Mom".
Aydan Hanım furrowed her brows in confusion.
"How did I allow myself to become so dependent on her? I haven't even noticed when I completely lost myself in her. And now... Oh god, Mom... I cannot breathe".
Serkan rubbed at his chest, where he had been feeling tightness for days, ever since he woke up on the day of Eda's accident. It felt as if he had a steel band around his sternum and it was getting tighter with every new day Eda remained unconscious.
"Oh, my dear boy..." Aydan Hanım uttered with a sob and pulled Serkan into a tight hug.
"That's the thing about love... It's completely out of our control. It takes over us, over our minds, bodies and souls... But it's not necessarily a weakness. You can turn it into your strength. Because, while you feel like you're dependent on Eda, she's also dependent on you, she's connected to you. So you have to stay strong, for her. This way she will be able to draw that strength from you".
Aydan Hanım rubbed at Serkan's back, then squeezed him and moved away, in order to look into his eyes.
"Okay?"
Feeling slightly better and stronger, Serkan nodded.
"Okay".
"Great! And now go home, you've been here for days".
"What? No, I..."
"Go home! Because, honestly, dear, you need a shower. It won't be very nice if Eda wakes up and you stink, will it?"
Serkan let out a small chuckle, even if it lacked any real joy.
"Go. Even Ayfer Hanım went home to get changed. We will be here. Me and Seyfi. The girls are here".
"Okay. But if anything, and I mean anything, changes - you call me".
"I will, I promise".
Serkan glanced at the hospital entrance and reluctantly moved to his car.
___________________________________________
Serkan felt sunlight on his face and warm breath on his neck. He peered his eyes open. She was here - alive, breathing and smiling at him. He brushed his hand over her dark hair, then over her smooth shoulder and down her bare back. He let his eyes wander over her face, trying to commit every tiny detail to his memory. The flutter of her long lashes, the buzzing energy in her deep chocolate eyes, the perfect curve of her mouth, the dimples that revealed themselves every time she rewarded him with one of her pearly smiles.
"What are you thinking about?" her quiet voice reached him.
"You. Always you. And what are you thinking about?"
Her smile got impossibly wide and painfully happy.
"Us".
He wanted to say something but a strange noise got his attention. And Eda's face turned blurry, as if she was a mirage that started dissolving.
"No-no-no... Please, stay..."
... A loud knock pulled Serkan from his dream, constructed by his memories and partially - by his wishful thinking. He was alone, the space near him empty and his arms Edaless. Serkan pulled himself up with a groan. He didn't remember falling asleep. He must have been more tired than he thought.
Another loud knock echoed in the big living space and Serkan had to leave the couch and move to the door. Once he reached it, he saw Balca through the glass, smiling at him cautiously. Serkan pulled the door open.
"Balca? What are you doing here?"
"Hello! Sorry for coming unannounced but you weren't answering your phone. So I got worried. And there are some issues at the office, actually. That's why I was calling in the first place".
Work issues sounded like a great way to take his mind off things. So Serkan moved to let Balca in. She came inside and closed the door. He motioned with his hand towards the couches.
"Take a sit. Can I get you something?"
"Well, actually, I brought you a special tea. It really helps in situations like... Well, it helps me in stressful situations. I thought I could brew it for you?"
"Well, that's very... thoughtful of you, thank you".
Serkan felt confused and a little uneasy but brushed it off. So what if it was something he would never do? People were different, there were different ways of helping someone. Eda had taught him that much. So he showed Balca to the kitchen area and told where to find cups and everything else she needed. While Balca was preparing her magical tea, Serkan was studying the files that she had brought.
"Okay... ready," Balca's voice pulled him from his work.
Serkan lifted his head from the files. Balca took two steaming cups in her hands and motioned behind him, to the couches.
"Maybe we should sit over there? You will be more comfortable".
Serkan shrugged indifferently but collected the papers and followed Balca to one of the couches. He took one of the cups that she offered to him with a muttered "Thank you".
They started looking through the documents together. Serkan sipped at his tea every now and then, and after a while he felt his body relax. Maybe Balca's tea was indeed magical.
"Thank you," Serkan said, once they discussed everything and Balca put all the papers away.
"I mean, for keeping me updated about what's going on in the office. And the tea. And for... for not asking me if I am ok".
"Well, I hate it myself. I mean, people asking if I am okay, when being okay is so clearly impossible," Balca told him with a small smile.
Serkan nodded and rubbed a hand over his eyes, that suddenly started feeling heavy.
"Let me get these cups," he heard Balca say.
The next moment he felt himself drift, his head pulling him down, eyes drooping. The last thing he registered was a warm hand on his face and a light kiss.
"Eda..." he muttered.
"Sweet dreams, my love".
(to be continued...)
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jacmyheroacademia · 5 years
Text
Hanahaki Bakugo X FemReader Part Two
Writers: Jac and Zeptikye Warnings: Mentions of blood, sickness, and medication Pairing: Bakugo X Female Character All Chapters
“I’m what?” Katsuki demanded with a growl, holding a handful of crumpled peony petals.
“In love dear.” Recovery girl said politely as if it was a very simple thing. He curled his lip at her, wondering if the old woman had finally gone senile. “How does that- what- what does that have to do with anything?!” he demanded, “I’m freaking coughing up plants! No love involved.” he said angrily before being interrupted by another cough.
Recovery girl walked to her desk, and up onto a step ladder, taking down a very old looking book. “It’s called Hanahaki,  a bit of an older disease, with only a few recorded cases every year, but it’s a disease born out of unrequited and unexplored emotions.” she said, stepping back down the step ladder and walking to Katsuki.
Katsuki huffed as he crossed his arms, glaring at her and still thinking she was rather crazy... Despite her pointed jab at how his brain usually handled emotions as almost all of his emotions were either unexplored or unrequited.  Recovery girl sighed as she opened the book and handed it to him. “Sadly there is very little cure for it.”
The page was open to a diagram of the human body, long paragraphs of explanation on either side of the human form that had flowers twisting from the base of his lungs up through his throat … the image was unpleasant to say the least.
He grunted trying not to show the small amount of fear that had entered him as he realized the magnitude of his apparent sickness.. “Well how do I fix it, then?”
Recovery girl nodded quietly, “Well there is a surgery- a way to get rid of the flowers permanently, but it is very invasive and comes with its own risks.” she said morosely.”It involves open heart and lung surgery and even then the results are not always conclusive, if not done correctly the flowers could come back.” she explained.
“Then there’s medication- a way to slowly poison the flowers and dampen their growth, through small doses. Or there is the  easiest way- you can confess your feelings to the one you love and hope they return your admiration.” she suggested. “This dampens the unresolved feelings and the flowers then die on their own.” she told him logically.
Katsuki grunted. “ ‘Hope’? What happens if they don’t?” he demanded, a blush rising to his cheeks, “Don’t return your crappy feelings or whatever, I mean …” he clarified.
Recovery girl frowned, “Then nothing. The flowers keep growing through the painful emotions of rejection.” she explained sadly.
Katsuki felt the flower stems in his chest twist viciously at that thought, Katsuki thinning his lips and snarling quietly, that option didn’t sound worth the risk at all. “Then how soon can I get the d*mned surgery?”
Recovery girl frowned, “Well … if that is what you choose we can get it scheduled as soon as possible, but the flowers won't be the only thing you lose Bakugo.” she told him seriously. Katsuki arched a brow at her vague nature, huffing and choking back another cough. “What?”
“Your emotions for the person you have feelings for would all be gone. Good, bad, indifferent- you wouldn’t feel anything towards them anymore.” she expressed.”It is not a decision to be made lightly- it is something that will greatly affect your relationship with the person forever.”
The words made Katsuki pause, his jaw tightening. “S-so?” he tried. “We develop our own emotions in our freaking brain- that doesn’t have anything to do with the sh*tty flowers...” he tried to defend- so what if the surgery got rid of his emotions? Who needed them anyway- there were more important things to be concerned about, and it wasn’t like they couldn’t still be friends.
“ I wish that was the case Bakugo- …” Recovery girl said sadly  “But the medical side of it hasn’t all been figured out yet. There’s so few cases every year and even then even fewer people choose to actually go through with the surgery. Some people even believe it to be the side effect of someone’s quirk that has just gotten passed down long long ago, in which case there wouldn’t even really be a scientific explanation.” she told him, “But either way- past cases show that there is a one-hundred percent rate of people losing their emotions for the person.”
He thinned his lips, his scowl falling as he leaned back against the wall. “Oh..” he said thoughtfully ...
Recovery girl nodded, “Do you have any idea of who the flowers may be for dear? Confessing really is the least painful and easiest of the options in most cases.” Katsuki’s crossed arms tightened, biting his cheek as they flushed a dull pink. “Yeah… I think.”
Recovery girl raised a brow as if asking him to acknowledge it out loud. He narrowed his eyes at her as his lips twisted, huffing and looking away. Recovery girl sighed, tilting her head. “Do I have to start naming off your classmates? At least I assume it is one of them that you have developed feelings for”
Katsuki cursed quietly with a snarl. “No.” He said angrily- “why do I even have to tell you?!” he demanded even though he knew it was illogical. Recovery girl made a sound that could have been a laugh. “Only if you wish to live, deary. Now, let’s see.” she replied, shifting through a drawer and pulling out a small stack of folders, Katsuki’s eyes widened in embarrassment.
She flipped through them. “Not miss Ashido or Kaminari I’m presuming?”
“Stop!” Katsuki exclaimed, already turning a light red- “Like I would ever fall for those two extra’s-!” he exclaimed. She nodded. “Neither Sero I’m going to assume.” she inferred, Katsuki growling out another embarrassed ‘no!’ Recovery girl flipped through to another file, looking back up at him. “Mr. Kirishima is a fair guess, seeing as you two are rather close as well have experienced some considerable trauma together.”
Katsuki bristled at the fact that he and Kirishima would ever be anything more than best friends. “N-no! Okay! It’s a girl! For crying out loud-” he muttered angrily- feeling the flowers in his chest quiver and shake from his embarrassment, making him cough again.
Recovery Girl chuckled quietly with a nod, flipping the folder again and looking back up at him. “So that leaves Miss. [L/N].”
Katsuki blushed red at the sound of her name … he had known that he was falling in love with her for nearly the past year, even if he hadn’t recognized it as love at first- and now it seemed that his body was finally forcing him to admit it, another painful cough reminding him of the physical turmoil that now went along with the emotional one.
Recovery girl  nodded, handing him a rag as Katsuki coughed out another peony. “Seems like we’ve found our culprit then.”
Katsuki cursed, staring at the flower in his hands. “Well what the he** am I supposed to do about it!?” he demanded emotionally, “I can’t just confess to her after everything that’s been going on!” he growled without meaning to- hating that his fear of this sickness was making him lose control of his emotions like this.
Recovery Girl tilted her head. “Everything?” she prompted.
Katsuki growled, “I don’t have to explain anything to you.” he defended even though he knew it was unreasonable- his body telling himself through another aggressive stabbing feeling in his lungs. Recovery Girl frowned quietly in concern. “If you wish not to suffocate, it might be best to.” she soothed. “I am honestly just trying to help.” she reminded
Katsuki growled looking to the ground, his eyes watering from the lack of air- totally not from the wave of emotion crashing over him as he realized again that he was in love. He coughed violently again, Recovery girl mixing some sort of medicine in a glass of water before handing it to him and pressing a healing kiss to his cheek.
Katsuki took the medicine with a growl, downing it in one gulp and finally feeling a bit of relief … pausing for a second before glancing between her and the glass.
“What does the medication do?” he asked hesitantly, avoiding her last question. Recovery Girl set her hands on her knees as she sat back down. “The medication is supposed to slow down the effects by numbing your emotions for the individual. It will allow you to continue on with your normal activities while stunting the flowers' growth.”
Katsuki considered this thoughtfully for a bit … “So I’ll … still have feelings for her- they’ll just be dulled? And the flowers will die.” he recapped. Recovery girl sighed. “Possibly, or at least stave off the effects for a decent enough period until you either tell her or have the surgery. It’s a slim chance of a complete recovery, is what I’m saying.” she explained
Katsuki considered this for a moment, the medication wasn’t a permanent solution- but the idea of getting surgery to have the flowers removed made his heart ache in his chest … he just couldn’t bring himself to risk losing [Y/N]’s friendship like that.
He sighed, ducking his head and rubbing his eyes in frustration as he thought- overworking his brain and only interrupted by a loud commotion drifting into the room from the end of the hallway.
Recovery girl looked in that direction quickly before turning back to Katsuki with a calm smile on her face. “It sounds like someone else may need my help.” she said easily, “I can give you something to help you sleep and you can stay in the other room for tonight until you make your decision.” she offered. “I’ve already healed any of the serious internal bleeding caused by the flowers.” she told him.
Katsuki grunted, not liking to be rushed- but knowing he would need the length of the night at least to sort things out “Whatever.” he grumbled in agreement.
Recovery girl nodded, moving to her desk as Katsuki pulled himself to his feet, his mind swimming in thoughts.
His train of thought was broken by the sound of voices. “Recovery girl?!” he heard who he recognized to be Uraraka call out, the other voice with her coughing violently. The old woman looked outside the door in concern, handing him two small, white pills and shooing him into the other room.
He didn’t give pink cheeks much thought as he stepped into the next room, closing the door behind him and falling down onto the hospital bed with a heavy sigh. He had important things to think about.
The pills tasted bitter as he popped them into his mouth, Katsuki pulling himself up to sit as he downed them with the rest of the medicated water. After a few minutes longer, he heard a quiet tap at his door, Recovery Girl stepping inside.
“I’m sorry, but I’m going to have to move you to a better suited spot, would you come with me?” she asked quietly, something in her tone cooling his annoyance before it had a chance to start.
Katsuki nodded, standing up to follow Recovery girl to another room, already feeling the pain in his throat begin to numb. He rubbed his throat, too lost in thought to notice the peachy-orange petal that stuck to the bottom of his shoe as he walked past.
“That should help the pain deary, and as you don’t want surgery or medication I can’t do much else for you.” Recover girl said as she handed [Y/N] a glass of water having just explained the full effects of what she was going through and her options for recovery. [Y/N] gave the old woman a thankful smile as her throat was too raw to actually form more words, wiping the tears from her eyes as she sipped from the cup.
“Do you know who could be causing you the flowers sweetheart? Sometimes the type of flower can help you figure it out.” she said helpfully. [Y/N] shook her head. “I.. I don’t know.” she murmured helplessly, setting down the empty cup to look down at the large flower head sitting innocently in her lap. Recovery girl nodded, “What don’t you know?” she prompted.
“I don’t… I don’t know how to determine- I’ve- … never done this before…”she said weakly. Recovery girl nodded, “Everyone has their first love at some point.” she said, “and nobody knows what they’re doing.” she said with a kind smile. “Did you ever have a crush when you were a child- someone who you just wanted to be around all the time or who you wanted to notice you?”
[Y/N] bit her lip, fumbling her hands together as she thought. “I… I had.. One friend.. Once- but I don’t think it was… love- w-well- maybe? I don’t really..know? ..um..” she stammered, her mind racing. “We were pretty young… and he ended up moving…” she said quietly.
Recovery girl nodded, “See, love wasn’t something you could explain back then. You were children.” she said kindly, “But that didn’t make that feeling of friendship and happiness any less real. And maybe given time you would have developed a relationship that would’ve lead to love. Like you potentially have now with someone.”
[Y/N] furrowed her brow. “B-but… I.. I don’t know how to distinguish romantic love from what’s maybe platonic love..?” she tried, biting her lip in shame at how juvenile that sounded.
Recovery girl nodded again, “Well that’s different for every person. Some people are comfortable spending lots of time and energy with and even being physically affectionate with close friends. While others reserve that right for someone they feel romantic attraction to.`` She tried her best to explain. “Can you think of any of your friends that you may be more likely to feel close to in a physical or emotional way than some of your other friends?” she asked.
[Y/N] chewed the inside of her cheek as she thought. “W-well.. I don’t know- I’m affectionate with Shoto and Kiri and sometimes Momo or Ochako or Deku or-...” [Y/N] paused, biting her tongue as she felt a flush of hot, flustered embarrassment fill her chest as she found she didn’t quite want to admit-
She sat straighter, her brain clicking as she looked wide-eyed at the old woman. “O-oh!” she exclaimed, her cheeks growing hotter. “I-is that what that feels like??!”
Recovery girl let out a small laugh, “Yes- I think so darling …” she said with a kind smile, “It’s different for everyone- no one right way to explain it.” [Y/N] blinked quickly, combing her hair away from her face and taking a shuddered breath. “O-oh..”
Recovery girl nodded softly, “Do you know who might be causing you the flowers now love?” she asked kindly, [Y/N] blushing softly. “I … I think so.” she nodded quietly. Recovery Girl tilted her head. “Do you think you could tell me?” she asked calmingly.
[Y/N] bit her lip, looking down at the flower in her lap, touching the petals quietly. “Um…”
“I- … I think- ... “ she felt tears sting at the back of her eyes- feeling stupid for crying over something so silly. “I think I’m in love with Bakugo.” she whispered, keeping her eyes on the flower in front of her. Recovery Girl was quiet for a moment or two. “You’re sure?”
[Y/N] sniffed softly, “No- but that's the only person I can think of!” she said desperately, coughing again. Recovery Girl nodded. “Well I would hope so.” she murmured, [Y/N] looking up in curious confusion.
Recovery girl only smiled kindly, taking another cup and filling it with water for her again while handing her a tissue. “Well then you know what you have to do to get rid of the flowers.” she said simply. [Y/N] nodded quietly, rubbing her face softly.
Recovery Girl hesitated for a moment. “For right now, however… I’m going to give you some of the medication- roses are… rather hazardous- the thorns have already done double the damage in just a day than one would normally experience in such a short time.. I don’t want it to get worse..”
[Y/N] sniffed, “Okay.” She agreed logically, already wondering how in the world she was supposed to confess to Katsuki freaking Bakugo.
// Thanks for Reading! Part one is uploaded on this blog and Part three should be out later this week, probably Wednesday!
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sweetcatmintea · 5 years
Text
Ink Halo
Hello hello flash fiction Friday again! I was going to skip another week because I’m Exhausted but I got inspired to do another scene of my angsty boi lamenting XD
I hope you enjoy watching the snow with Storm and Scarlette! Feedback is appreciated ^u^
Big thanks to @cawolters for organising FFF and to @inexorableblob, for hosting!
Prompt: Golden Rings
Words: 950
Character(s): Storm, Scarlette, and Echo.
----------
Sitting on cold stone steps and sipping hot chocolate while watching flecks of snow drift from a grey sky with a pleasant companion, Storm could almost pretend he didn’t notice the ever-present sensation of being watched. The mercy of Scarlette’s higher rank meant fewer shadows, but never none.
“Does it hurt?”
Storm felt Scarlette side-eying him over her steaming tea. He didn’t return the gesture, preferring to keep his eyes trained on his sister playing in the enclosed court yard. There was no where for her to disappear to but he could never be too careful.
“No, not really.” His fingers traced the plastic wrapped loosely around his throat. “It just kind of itches.” It was strange to talk. Not quite a pain, but a pressure tugging at each movement. It had stung initially, but that was to be expected with tattoos. Or at least, he assumed as much.
Scarlette hummed sympathetically, absently tracing the shimmer of her own gold circle around her wrist. “It does itch for a few days but it should stop after that. Although, do take care not to scratch. If it gets infected, it’s a terrible mess to deal with.” She paused, sipping the drink. “I might have some aloe if you want it. It’s typically good for soothing skin irritations.”
Storm shook his head lightly, “Thanks, but no. I’ll just deal with it. There’s no point pretending it isn’t there.” His voice had an edge he didn’t intend. One that he regretted as Scarlette’s face twitched with worry. It was hard to explain, more so to say out loud, but he wanted to feel it. In some sick way, the discomfort was reassuring.
“Storm,” She lingered his name, setting down her cup while she searched for the right wording, “you do understand what you agreed to, don’t you? That this is permanent?”
He flicked his eyes to her, not answering. Contrary to popular belief, he wasn’t an idiot. Of course he knew. He knew the costs when he agreed. When his stomach dropped at the toothy smile that crept unabashedly across White’s face, leaving him hollow. He knew and agreed anyway. It was the only way. He wanted to be angry at Scarlette for even insinuating he’d made the decision lightly, but when he searched her dusty green eyes, there was no malice - only concern for the teen she’d grown to care about. She didn’t press him for an answer.
Silence stretched between them. Somewhere between uncomfortable and understanding. In a way, it felt like some kind of mutual tragedy had occurred. As though they were at a wake for the unnameable thing Storm had given away. He let his mind settle on the ring etched under his skin. Hexed to shimmer and shift, the gold itself was a coveted ink. The hypocrisy of the church marking its members with something charmed by the very magic they ostracise was not lost on him. In another situation, the tattoo would be pretty. In another situation, he’d have had a choice. Instead, he was stuck with a permanent halo as a sign of his loyalty. He wondered if they knew how quickly he’d turn on them. How their self-righteous holier than though act burned his vicious temper to action, held back purely by his sister’s safety. Probably. Another tug as he licked his dry lips. White had chosen the location, not him. It was always White’s decision. Storm wasn’t nearly naïve enough to believe it was a mark of belonging, nor optimistic enough to believe the placement was in good will. It was exactly what it looked like – a mark of ownership tethering him dangerously to someone else’s ideals.
A light touch interrupted his thoughts. His face must’ve betrayed his emotions.
“You can cover it up. There’s nothing to say you can’t… I did. When I first got mine, I mean. I was, I guess you could say worried, about how people would react. It’s not exactly a secret what it represents.” She laughed dryly. “It’s more a message for Anthony than the rest of the world. He’s usually sated with that.” There was an uncomfortable stiffness in the way she brushed her long red hair back out of her face. Storm couldn’t help but wonder if whether her loyalties were as tenuous as his own. Maybe she was just cognisant of the eyes on their backs. Who could say?
He smiled, small but genuine. “Thanks. It’s … complicated. I’ll figure it out.”
She gave his shoulder a light squeeze before letting her hand fall away, reclaiming her cooled drink and turning back to the scene in front of them. Echo had managed to mound together enough snow to make herself a squat little snowman companion. An unusual reprieve into childish fun, she was making the most of the snowy afternoon. An unwelcomed twinge of something bitter rose in Storm’s throat. But, when Echo turned back, cold flushed face brightened with a big grin, waving at her favourite person in the world, as quickly as it had come, the feeling died down. A little of the empty faded as Storm waved back. The tattoo was permanent. He was never getting rid of it. He childhood was gone. He was never getting it back. He had lost so much. But, at the end of the day, he still had his sister. The stars themselves could not stop him from giving her at least a little of what was taken from him.
He hated the golden rings binding him to his enemy for everything they represented. He hated White for everything he was. But he could live with it. They were just tools to keep his sister innocent.  
———-
@inkovert, @snobbysnekboi, @kainablue, @i-rove-rock-n-roll, and @goblin-writer
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sorenmarie87 · 6 years
Text
Howlin’ for You
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Summary: Winnie and you talk Garth into throwing a Halloween party, but when you can’t find Garth all night, you start worrying.  
Pairing(s)/Character(s): Garth x Reader, Sam x Eileen, Castiel, Dean, Charlie, Winnie (OFC) 
Word Count: 2,051 
Warning(s):  Lots of fluff.  Alcohol mentions.  Sexual comments.  
This is an extra chapter in the Anything For My Lady series.  It’s gonna make more sense if you’ve read it beforehand.  
A/N:  I need to thank @fictionalabyss and @coffee-obsessed-writer for all their help and listening to me ramble on about this story.  
I do not own any of the pictures used in my story aesthetic.  I found them on pinterest.  I also hate to say this but if you’re reading this fic - please be over 18.  
Forever Tags - @lovetusk @coffee-obsessed-writer@mirajanefairytailmage@kazosa@soythedemonqueen@docharleythegeekqueen@holyfuckloueh@ellen-reincarnated1967@ravenangel33 @buckyscrystalqueen@clockworkmorningglory@lefthologramdeer@disneymarina
SPN Tags - @underestimatemethatwillbefun @nyxveracity
You were putting the finishing touches on your makeup for your costume.  Halloween had always been one of your favorite holidays, and with the help of Winnie, you convinced Garth to let you throw a party.   Anyone else would find it strange - werewolves throwing a Halloween party with their Hunter friends but your family managed just fine.  There were never any urges to go out looking for human hearts - you lived off of animal hearts, so everyone would be safe.  
You heard tiny feet run into your room and with a smile you turned around to see Winnie.  “Mommy does this look right?”  You placed the brush down in front of the vanity, taking a glance at your daughter’s costume.  The three of you had binged on The Musketeers recently.  You were going as Constance, Garth was going as D’Artagnan of course, and Winnie decided to go as King Louie.  Her costume looked correct but there was something missing.  “You look fantastic your highness, but your hair is wrong.  Let’s fix that shall we?”  
Like her father, she loved whenever you would play with her hair.  However tonight - she was wearing a black wig to bring her costume together.  Plugging in the curling iron, you called her over to the seat in front of the vanity and waited for it to heat up.  
“Are Uncle Sam and Dean coming tonight?” Winnie asked as you worked on curling her hair.  
“Of course they are.  Uncle Sam is bringing a special friend with him, is that okay?”
“Does that mean I can't marry Uncle Sam when I grow up?”  You chuckled and paused.  
“I hate to tell you kiddo, but I think you might have to find someone else.”  Someone age appropriate, you thought to yourself as you watched her expression change in the mirror from disappointed to happy.
“As long as he's happy, I'm happy.”  She wiggled slightly and you had to remind her stay still.  You told her that she could downstairs once you were finished but she shook her head and clung to your side. “Wanna go together.”  You heard voices coming from downstairs and you felt Winnie take ahold of your hand.  
“Okay, let's go.”
--  
It had been an hour and you couldn't find your fiance.  Garth wouldn't just vanish, so you made your rounds.  Sam and Eileen were chatting with each other on the love seat.  She must've signed something inappropriate because you watched Sam's face turn beet red.  
You practically squealed in approval when they showed up.  Sam was dressed as Hercules, and Eileen was beside him as Meg.  You excitedly signed to Eileen that her costume was perfect and you watched as her cheeks flushed.  Cas arrived behind them and you giggled to yourself.
“Father Castiel, how are you doing?”
“My child, I am doing fine.”  You snorted and watched as Castiel gave a curt greeting to everyone he saw.  Both Sam and Eileen chuckled as they made their way into the house.
You smiled as Winnie ran over to Charlie and practically tackled her to the ground.  “What did we say Winnie?”
“Mama, she's my queen though.”  You watched as she sighed and Charlie smiled at the younger girl as she moved her into her lap. “It's fine, Y/N.”  
“You should see her when she hasn't seen the boys or her father in a while.”
“I can only imagine..”
“She doesn't look like much but that girl is super strong.”
--
“Y/N, hey Y/N…”  You turned around and Dean was standing there with a glass of scotch in his hand.  You got a good look at his costume, and you snorted.  He was in a solid black suit with a matching tie and you let out a low whistle.  
“Looking good there, Winchester.”  He grinned as he stepped further into the light and his usual sandy blonde hair was pitch black.  “I hope that isn't permanent.”  
“God no… “  You chuckled as he ran his free hand through his hair.  
“Hey Dean, by chance have you seen Garth?”  He took a sip from his glass and shrugged.  “Thanks for nothing.”  
--
Winnie was passed out on the couch so you picked her up and took her upstairs where it was quiet.  You laid her down in your bed and sat down beside her.  “Where is your father Winnie?” You brushed a stray curl away from her face and sighed.  As she flipped over, he wig started to come off.  You chuckled to yourself and took a picture before something caught your eye.  There was a garment bag hanging from the closet door with a post it on it.  You smiled at Garth’s handwriting but raised an eyebrow.  ‘Put me on and meet me in the backyard.’  You gasped as you unzipped the bag and peeked inside.  
The dress was beautiful.  It had a deep sweetheart neckline with spaghetti straps and a fitted waistline that flows into an intricately beaded lace overlay with a floor length skirt.  You were trying to remove your costume as quietly as you could but you were having some trouble.  “Mama, do you need some help?”  You glanced over your shoulder at Winnie and laughed to yourself.
“Mama’s arms are kind of short, so I can’t reach the zipper.  Think you can unzip me?”  Winnie nodded as she wiped her eyes and carefully made it to the end of the bed.  Her little fingers fumbled at first, but when you heard the zipper going down, she smiled.  “Thank you Winnie.”  She watched as you slid the dress off and it pooled at your feet.  You carefully remove the new dress from the hanger, unzipping it first and carefully slide into.  Winnie helps zip your dress and kisses your cheek once she’s finished.  
“You look beautiful mama, but I need to go change now..”  She jumps off the bed and practically rushes out of the room.  With the door left wide open,  Charlie peeks in with a giggle.  
“I thought you might need some help, but I guess Winnie took care of everything.”  You chuckled as she entered your bedroom, closing the door behind her.  
“Well not everything.”  You smoothed down the front of your dress and made sure everything was in the right place.  “How’s my makeup?”  Charlie reapplied some light pink lipstick and looked you over once again.
“Looking good mama.  However…”  She moved behind you and unpinned your hair.  You watched her in the mirror as your hair cascaded over your shoulders.  “There we go.  Garth is one lucky man.”  
“He really is.”  
“Okay, you ready?”  The two of you made it into the hallway as Winnie ran past you in a hurry.  ‘Sorry mama!’  You heard her call out and you chuckled.  Dean was waiting at the top of the stairs with a grin on his face.  “You look beautiful sweetheart.  Garth won’t know what hit him.”  He winked and extended his arm out to you.  “I know it’s usually the father’s bride who walks her down the aisle but…”
“I’m actually grateful it’s you and not my father..”  He was the reason you were a werewolf in the first place.  He was also the reason your mother wouldn’t be here either.  You shook your head, trying to get rid of the negative thoughts as you made your way towards the patio doors.  As you put your hand on the door handle, Dean stopped you from opening it.  He handed you a bouquet of Fall colored flowers and smiled.  
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“On three, okay Y/N?”  You heard him count to three, as the two of you opened the doors, your jaw dropped.  How did Garth have time to do this?  Sam, Eileen, Charlie, and Winnie were each holding a little jack o lantern that lit up as you walked up the aisle towards Garth and Castiel, who you found out was officiating the wedding.  
Dean released you from his arm with a kiss on the cheek and Garth took your hand into his.
“I was not expecting to do this tonight but we are gathered here tonight to join Y/N and Garth in holy matrimony.  Garth has prepared something special for Y/N, in place of vows.”
“Thank you Castiel.”  You smiled as Garth took hold of your other hand.  “Y/N, there is no doubt that I love you, I mean I have loved you since we were kids.  We have an amazing daughter and a life together that I wouldn't trade for anything.”  You met his eye and he smiled.  “You are the only one for me, everyone would agree.  I will spend the rest of my days loving you, and our children - however many we have.  You make my life so much better.”
You felt him wipe away a tear and he smiled at you, his own eyes misty.  “I love you too.”
“Get on with it!”
“Put a cork in it Unca Dean!”
“Okay Garth, do you take Y/N to be your wife?”
“I do.”  You watched as he slipped a band that matched your engagement ring onto your ring finger.
“Do you Y/N, take Garth to be your husband?”
“I do.”  Winnie pressed something into your hand and you thanked her.  You slipped the ring onto Garth's finger and grinned.
“With the power invested me by Heaven and my father, I now pronounce you husband and wife.  Garth, you may now kiss your bride.”  The kiss only last a few seconds, but as soon as the two of you broke apart, Winnie ran up to the two of you and almost knocked you over.
“Mama, can I spend the night at Aunt Charlie’s ?”
“You don't want to stay with Uncle Dean for the night?” She shook her head and the two of you chuckled.  “Aunt Charlie can watch you, but only if she says yes, okay?”
‘'Kay!”  
You knew this playlist and you laughed as Howlin’ for You started playing.  Garth wrapped his arms around your waist and the two of you swayed along with the beat.  You felt his mouth right by your ear and you blushed as he told you what he was planning after everyone left.  The song changed and Winnie pulled Garth away to dance, and when Dean approached and asked for a dance, you agreed.  
“I never thought I would see the day when Dean Winchester asks for a dance.”  He spun you in a circle and pulled you back in.  His hand was resting on your back and you grinned.
“This is a special case.”  He looked away from you and you heard a low chuckle coming from him.  You watched Sam and Eileen dance in the corner, and even Charlie and Cas were swaying along to the music.  It was your turn to chuckle and it warmed your heart as your eyes landed on Garth and Winnie.  She was standing on top of his feet as the music played on.  “So any special plans for tonight?”
“You know damn well what’s going to go on after all of you leave.”  You wanted to stop there but your mouth and brain decided against it.  “I’m going to tap him like a maple tree, Dean.”  
“Gross, why did I even ask that..”  Dean blanched pulled away and you chuckled.  
“YOU ASKED WINCHESTER, remember that!”  You wrapped your arms around his neck and pull him back towards you.  “Hey Dean?”  
“What?”  
“Garth is going to put piece A into slot B and repeat vigorously.  There’s going to be so much going on tonight that I won’t know where I end and Garth begins.  We are going to hump like bunnies…”
“Stop, for the love of God just stop.”  
“You started this train Dean and guess what?  The fuck train has no breaks.”
“PHRASING Y/N.”  You kissed Dean on the cheek with a giggle after the song ended and made your way back over to Garth.  There weren’t many guests but when one trickled out, the rest went with them.  Charlie had Winnie’s overnight bag on her shoulders and Winnie made sure to get a hug and kiss from the two of you before they took off.  
“Alone at last, Mr. Fitzgerald.  What should we do?”  
“How’s about I carry you upstairs and show you, Mrs. Fitzgerald?”  
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winterbaby89 · 7 years
Text
Dark Hook Comes to Storybrooke - Chapter Three
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A Captain Swan, Season 1 Canon Divergence Collaboration by: @hollyethecurious, and @winterbaby89
Beta’d by: @ilovemesomekillianjones
Amazing Artwork by: @xhookswenchx
Rated M for language and dark themes (and maybe (probably) some sexy times… later ;o)
Summary: Moments before the Evil Queen’s Dark Curse whisks our beloved fairytale characters to Storybrooke, Captain Hook finally gets his revenge on the Crocodile. Twenty-eight years later, Killian Jones awakes in Storybrooke expecting just another ordinary day, that is until a number of abnormal occurrences disrupts his otherwise scheduled life. The greatest of which is a new face in town. A young woman by the name of Emma. Emma. What a lovely name…
Disclaimer: Canon dialogue and scenes from various episodes will appear within this fic. To Adam, Eddie, and the OUAT writers goes all the credit.
Line breaks indicate change in POV or Scene.
Also available on ao3, my fic page, and Hollye′s fic page And if you want to catch up on the last chapter. 
This work is no longer available on FF.net. Unfortunately the site does not allow authors to co-publish collaborative works.
Chapter Three
Regina’s car was already parked behind the abandoned pawn shop when Killian arrived. Windows obscured by curtains made it difficult for him to gauge whether or not she remained in the back room, or if she had moved through to the front of the store. Willing to risk his advantage, to catch her off guard, Killian made his way through the back door.
To his relief he found the back room empty, but could hear the shuffling sounds of movement coming from the showroom. Peaking through the curtain that separated the two spaces, his heart stopped as he saw the glint of metal and a familiar hilt being placed inside Regina’s purse. The slightly stunned and contemplative expression on her face confirmed to Killian that she had noted the name that now appeared upon its surface.
There was nothing for it, he’d have to confront her if he wanted to acquire the blade back. Slipping through the curtain, he took a moment’s enjoyment in seeing her startle when he cleared his throat. Quickly schooling her features to express her customary haughty condescension, Regina turned to address his intrusion.
“Mr. Jones, this is town property, what are you doing here?”
“Looking for something, as it would appear you are as well. So, how about we just cut to the chase and you give me what I came here for.”
“I have no idea to what you are referring, Mr. Jones.”
“Come now, Dearie.” Dearie? Where the bloody hell did that come from? Regina quirked an eyebrow at him as he continued. “Don’t be coy Regina, I know you’ve already found the dagger, and that you’ve seen whose name is now etched across it. My dagger, if you please,” he said as he flourishingly extended his hand towards her.
For a moment it looked as though Regina was going to outright refuse, but then her eyes widened and her face contorted with disbelief as she drew out the dagger from her purse and handed it over to him.
Curious.
“You’re awake?” Regina inquired incredulously. “And you’re The Dark One?”
“So it would seem,” Killian answered bitterly, his fingers tracing the letters of the name on the blade, willing it to change to any other than his own.
“How?”
“I gather that whoever kills The Dark One becomes cursed to carry the darkness upon themselves, as the new Dark One,” Killian explained.
“No, not that,” Regina dismissed. “I already knew that. I meant, how are you awake?”
Killian’s head snapped up as he fixed Regina with a cold stare.
“You knew?” he accused, his tone laced with a hushed menace that slipped through his clenched and ticking jaw as he advanced towards her.
“Of course I knew,” Regina confirmed, attempting to seem unaffected by his approach, even as her steps away from him faltered. “Do you really think I didn’t learn everything I could about that evil little imp?”
“And you let me pursue the Crocodile without ever mentioning a word as to the true cost of my vengeance?”
“You didn’t ask,” Regina sniped, gaining back some of her sass even in the face of his ire.
“Well, Your Majesty I have a few things I’d like answered now, and you’re going oblige me.”
Before Regina could respond, Killian gave in to the compulsion to add a please, and watched with growing interest as she seemed unable to refuse his request.
“What do you want to know?”
“My hand. Did I regain it because of your curse, or from the curse of being The Dark One?
“Your guess is as good as mine,” she answered flippantly, stoking Killian’s temper once more.
“What the bloody hell does that mean? It’s your curse, Regina!”
“I only enacted the curse, Hook.” He flinched slightly at her use of his once proud moniker. “I didn’t create it. Besides, you weren’t supposed to be included in it.” She added the last part as if it were an afterthought.
“What do you mean?”
“After you came back from Wonderland you said you had no need for my curse, so I took you out of it.” Her tone implied that she had done him a favor, only to reveal her true intentions behind such an action. “I’d planned to separate you from Rumple permanently. Deny you your precious revenge by leaving you behind, while The Dark One was vulnerable in this land.”
“But you left The Dark One written into the curse.” Killian clarified, understanding permeating his thoughts, explaining the inconsistencies he’d observed since he awoke.
“Yes.”
“So everything that you added into the curse that pertained to the Crocodile-”
“Must have transferred to you when you became The Dark One,” she finished.
After a moment’s reflection as the two of them fleshed out the meaning of such a revelation, Killian again brought forth his initial question.
“That doesn’t explain my hand, or why my tattoo is gone.”
“That’s probably an effect of the curse removing any physical attributes that could remind you of who you truly were, or would cause you to stand out in this land. Much like it changed the dwarves’ features and made the cricket human again.”
“Well, while I rather enjoy having my hand back, can you return my tattoo?” he asked quietly, bristling at the vulnerability he was exposing to her. In an effort to place them on equal footing in his moment of weakness, he added a pointed, “Please.”
“That shouldn’t still work,” she muttered angrily. “I made that deal with Rumple.”
“No, Dearie.” Damnit, Crocodile! Get out of my head! “You made that deal with The Dark One, not the coward it was possessing. Now about my tattoo?”
“I can’t put it back. Though, I’m sure there’s a lovely cursed tattoo parlor in town, somewhere,” she ribbed with an insincere smile plastered on her face as he glared at her. “Now I have question for you, Captain. How did you get your memories back?”
Now it was Killian’s turn to grin disingenuously. “It seems the Crocodile didn’t trust you, so he apparently had a back door built into the curse, a failsafe as it were, to get his... rather my memories back.”
“I guess I should have read the fine print more closely,” Regina muttered sarcastically.
“So now what?” Killian asked.
“What do you mean?”
“The curse, Regina. What do you plan to do about the curse?” Killian asked exasperatedly. Surely things couldn’t go on as they had, not when he had his memories back and Henry suspected the truth.
“Nothing.”
“What do you mean, nothing?” Killian asked incredulously at her flippant nonchalance.
“Just as I said. I’m sorry that your revenge didn’t give you the happy ending you were hoping for, but mine is working out exactly as I had planned.” He wasn’t sure who she was trying to convince with that statement; him or her.
“Really? Everyone’s misery is giving you the happy ending you wanted? Even Henry’s?”
“Leave my son out of this,” she snapped.
Well, that certainly struck a chord. Finally.
“Henry will be just fine as soon as I get rid of that woman he brought here.”
“Getting rid of Emma isn’t going to change the fact that Henry knows about the curse. Knows who you really are… Your Majesty.”
“Children believe all sorts of things, Hook. He’ll grow out of it eventually.”
Killian was dumbfounded by Regina’s insistence on keeping Henry in the dark. Not that he could really blame her. She was The Evil Queen, and though the lad might suspect the truth, knowing for certain that your parent was a vile villain wasn’t something a young boy would be able to get over all too quickly. He should know. Still, Killian couldn’t keep his care and concern for the boy from surfacing as he continued to petition on Henry’s behalf.
“And what about in the meantime? How do you think it’s going to affect Henry long-term, knowing that people think he’s crazy for believing in a curse that we both know is real?”
A glint of menacing inspiration flickered behind Regina’s eyes sending a shuddering chill of cold dread down Killian’s spine. He could see some sort of sinister plan formulating in her mind, but before he could press her further she collected her purse and started for the door.
“Thank you, Captain,” she offered with a sickening smile. “I think you’ve provided me with the exact answer I came here looking for.”
Without another word Regina took her leave while Killian warred with himself on whether or not to follow her. Something he’d said had sparked a plan behind her eyes in regards to the Swan girl, and Regina seemed too pleased with herself. That was never a good sign, but Killian also had the matter of the dagger to attend to.
Knowing he needed to find a place to secure it before anyone else had an opportunity to see it, Killian made his way through the back room towards the exit when another glint of metal caught his eye. He stood transfixed by the sight of his hook sitting on one of the shelves, it was ethereally illuminated by the light creeping in from a break in the curtains. Retrieving it, Killian was torn between two emotions; the comfort of being reunited with the familiar, and the pain in the reminder that he was a villain.
Where he once reveled in the power, notoriety, and reactions that his hook afforded him in that infamous Captain’s persona, Killian now shuddered at the thought of someone like Henry learning the truth. He’d become a villain for his revenge, and in gaining his revenge had become so much worse. If it weren’t for the fact that his hook provided him access to the perfect hiding spot for the dagger, he’d be tempted to leave it behind. As it was, his hook was the only key that opened the hidden compartment on the Jolly Roger; the compartment where no one would know to look for the cursed blade.
Killian returned to his ship, beat a determined path down to his cabin intent on hiding the accursed blade, and almost made it to the safe when he heard the sound of rushed footfalls on the planks of the deck above. Knowing the only person that would come near his ship willingly was Henry, Killian quickly stashed the hook and dagger on a shelf, and made haste to head the lad off.
“Henry, lad! I’m surprised to see you. You haven’t-” Killian cut off his greeting at the sight of tears streaming down the boy’s face. Damn you, Regina! “Henry, my boy, what’s happened?”
Killian kept the lad on deck as he attempted to patiently listen to Henry’s account, all the while distracted by the fact that his hook and dagger were just below. He had to keep Henry from stumbling across them, but was torn in his desires.
On one hand, he’d like nothing more than to march Henry back to Emma and confess everything to the lad and his mother. The truth of the curse, evidence of an entire realm’s displacement, and assurances that Henry was not crazy. Assurances that Regina was, in fact, the diabolical villain Henry believed her to be.
But therein lies the rub. In order to affirm Henry to Emma, Killian would have to expose his own villainy to the lad, and to the woman for whom he couldn’t deny a growing attraction. Surely doing so would cost Killian every bit as much in his relationship with the boy as it would Regina. He hadn’t had the time to dwell, nor the inclination to truly analyze his thoughts and regards towards the Swan girl, but the idea that the truth of who he really was would eliminate any chance he’d have to find out left him feeling just as bereft.
“Then she said I couldn’t tell the difference between fantasy and reality, and that I was crazy. You don’t think I’m crazy, do you, Killian?” Henry asked with mournful, brown eyes, piercing him with their need to find hope and assurance.
Centuries of self-preservation won out. Killian couldn’t bring himself to confess the truth of who he truly was. Henry had come to him because he trusted him, had come to rely on their friendship, and so had he. He couldn’t lose the boy, so Killian found himself consoling a distraught Henry with the advice that he seek out Dr. Hopper’s counsel. Side stepping Henry’s insecurities of whether or not he believed him with empty platitudes of there, there as he ushered the boy off the ship with promises that everything would work out in the end.
Killian watched the still distraught lad as he made his way back towards Main Street, and vowed that he’d make it up to the boy later. He hurried back down to the cabin to secure the dagger in the safe, the satisfying click of the lock as Killian stowed the dagger in the secured compartment sent a rush of relief through him. His relief was immediately followed by regret. Regret that he had dismissed Henry in his panic and cowardice. Regret that it was his words to Regina that had sparked such a vicious set-up of entrapment for Emma and Henry. A villain he may be, but Henry deserved better. If the whole purpose of hiding his true identity was so he wouldn’t lose what he had with the boy, then he’d have to do a better job of selling the persona Henry had come to know and expect from him.
Resolved in his determination to make things right with Henry, Killian set off towards town to see what he could offer in the way of comfort and damage control. Then he’d deal with Regina.
With Mary Margaret’s words on repeat in her head, ‘If you won’t protect Henry, then who will?’, Emma burst through Dr. Hopper’s office door to find a despondent Henry on the couch.
“Ms. Swan,” Dr. Hopper exclaimed as he shot out of his chair and came towards her. “Look, I can explain. The Mayor forced me.”
“I know,” she said, cutting off his explanation. “Don't worry about it. I get it.” She wasn’t really interested in assuaging the man of his guilt, but she’d need him on her side if she was going to make things right. “Henry, I'm sorry.”
“I don't want to talk to you,” Henry muttered, refusing to look her way.
“Ms. Swan, if she knew you were here,” Dr. Hopper warned.
“To hell with her!” Emma snapped before settling herself in front of Henry, addressing him in earnest. “Henry, there is one simple reason I stayed here. You. I wanted to get to know you.”
“You think I'm crazy,” Henry argued, still refusing to look at her.
“No, I think the curse is crazy, and it is.” She paused to collect her thoughts, carefully choosing her next words. “But that doesn't mean that it isn't true. It is a lot to ask anyone to believe in, but there are a lot of crazy things in this world. So what do I know? Maybe it is true.”
Henry cast a furtive glance her way, and a sense of hope swelled within her that maybe she was getting through to him.
“But you told my mom-”
“What she needed to hear,” she insisted, a surge of inspiration hitting her on how to manage the fallout of Regina’s heartless actions. “What I do know is that if the curse is real, the only way to break it is by tricking the Evil Queen,” Henry finally met her gaze, “into thinking that we are nonbelievers, because that way, she's not on to us. Isn't that what Operation Cobra was all about? Throwing her off the trail?”
As she spoke, Emma could see that her words were making an impact. Henry became enthralled with the plan she was laying out before him, and Dr. Hopper gave her an encouraging smile of support. When she’d finished, Henry leaned forward excitedly as he praised her.
“Brilliant.”
Bolstered by Henry’s renewed spirit and enthusiasm towards her, Emma continued in her efforts to re-establish the camaraderie and trust they had shared since he’d brought her to town.
“I read the pages, and Henry, you're right, they are dangerous. There is only one way to make sure that she never sees these.” Emma stood and made her way to the fireplace, she placed the torn out pages of the storybook she’d been holding into the flames. “Now we have the advantage,” she declared as she turned to face him once more, only to be met by Henry’s crushing hug around her middle.
“I knew you were here to help me,” he said as Emma wrapped her arms around him and brought a hand to the back of his head, stroking his hair as she rested her chin atop it.
“That's right, kid. I am,” she affirmed with conviction. Before releasing him, she added, “And nothing, not even a curse, is gonna stop that.”
Henry smiled and wrapped himself around her once more, Emma tamped down the feelings that made her want to run. She’d told Mary Margaret that the reason she’d planned to leave was so Henry wouldn’t keep getting hurt, but she knew that wasn’t the only reason. ‘What happens if you go?’ the woman had asked, and Emma hadn’t just thought of Henry in that moment.
She’d thought of her own loneliness. Going back to a life with no promise of anything more than being alone. It was a safe life, one that she could control, but was it what she wanted? In the three days since Henry had brought her to Storybrooke Emma had started to rethink many things about her life. Staying meant being a mom to Henry, and promises of friendship with his teacher, a woman who had confessed feeling a kinship with her from the moment they met.
Kinship.
The word drummed up potential promises of other new connections, as well, and her mind went back to the bar where she’d shared a drink with the mysterious Killian Jones. A man who had professed to being on Henry’s side, who read her like an open book, and stirred in her a desire to stay. A desire that, once again, had her wanting to run for the hills.  
‘I think the very fact that you want to leave is why you have to stay.’ Mary Margaret had been talking about Henry and his best interests when she’d spoken those words, but Emma knew in that moment, as Henry held on tightly to her, that choosing to stay and fight for his best interest just might mean fighting for her’s as well.
She and Henry said their goodbyes to Dr. Hopper and made their way out of his office and back towards Henry’s house. Henry was bubbling with excitement over the next step in Operation Cobra, and Emma, though still unsure of her role in his life, couldn’t help but smile at him and bask in the pride she felt that, just maybe, she’d be able to give him his best chance after all.
As Killian rounded the corner by the Cricket’s office he was heartened to see Henry and Emma emerging with smiles and an easiness about them which pulled at the corner of his lips as he gave over to a wide grin. Relieved that everything seemed to be back to rights between mother and son, Killian resisted the urge to interrupt their moment together as they headed back towards the Mayor’s home. Knowing that Regina would be headed that way soon as well, Killian changed his course.
He wanted to give Henry and his mother some uninterrupted time together to say goodnight without Regina’s interference, and, well, rubbing in the fact that her plan to drive a wedge between them had failed was just too good a boon to pass up. As he made his way to Regina’s office Killian was struck with a feeling. I feel… content, happy even. He thought, perhaps, for the first time in twenty-eight years, (or a few centuries for that matter) he may not need to find solace at the bottom of a bottle that night.
Killian found Regina attempting to salvage the damage Swan had inflicted on her beloved apple tree, and the image of the brazen woman holding the chainsaw flashed through his mind sending an unexpected jolt of desire through him. Now’s not the time, mate, he admonished himself as he tamped down feelings he hadn’t experienced since… Yeah. Definitely not the time.
“Quite the mess,” he commented in lieu of a greeting as he entered the courtyard.
“Not for long,” Regina replied. A self-satisfied smirk rested on her lips as she asked, “What do you want, Hook?”
“Mr. Jones, Madam Mayor,” he corrected. “We must keep up appearances after all.”
“So, you’ve decided to play along? You aren’t going to tell Henry about the curse?”
She eyed him critically as he sauntered around the tree, assessing the damage and weighing his words in his mind before he spoke them aloud. “I’ll keep the secret from Henry and his mother… for now.”
“I am Henry’s mother,” she snapped, momentarily losing the cool facade she had been presenting. Once she was able to school her features, she added, “Besides, we no longer need to worry about her. I just rid the town of the unwanted nuisance.”
“Really?” he questioned with an air of mock surprise.
“Yes. I imagine she's halfway to Boston by now.”
“Oh, I wouldn't bet on that,” he chortled, popping the t as he made his way back around to stand before her. He didn’t want to miss the expression on her face as he revealed this next part. “I've just seen her strolling down Main Street with the lad. Thick as thieves, they looked.”
“What?”
“Seems you’ve underestimated her, as you tend to do with everyone,” he jeered.
“You mean you?” she snarked. “Don’t kid yourself, Hook. You and I both know the reason why you aren’t going to say anything to Henry or that woman about the curse. You’re a villain. Actually, no.” She paused as she assessed him with malice and contempt. “You’re worse. You’re The Dark One.”
Regina swept past him, leaving him to stew at her words, but not before he had the satisfaction of seeing the rage and panic behind her eyes. Not so unaffected by the news that her scheme hadn’t worked, it seemed. His gratification was short lived, however, as he considered her taunts. He was worse than a villain, and now, more than ever, he had to keep the truth from Henry. From everyone.
Once again he found himself in the familiar company of self-loathing and misery, and began to trod his usual path to The Rabbit Hole. It seemed he would not be receiving a reprieve from his demons that night after all. Despite the dark musings swirling around him, he could not help but hope that perhaps the fates would show him a kindness. Perhaps, a certain, spirited blonde just might be occupying a barstool when he arrived.
So caught up in his thoughts, Killian did not notice the yellow bug parked on Main Street. The yellow bug that housed the very woman he’d hoped to run into. Emma Swan sat looking through the Storybrooke Mirror in the hopes of finding a place to stay.
 Chapter Four
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rhetoricalrogue · 7 years
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Inktober for Writers - 26. Realization
Warning for violence and murder.  Prompt list here.
This is probably one of the starting points to the whole fake marriage thing that @alittlestarling and I have been talking about doing for some time now.  This is also 2 AM writing without editing, so I apologize in advance.  
“We need to talk.  Follow me.”  Years of ingrained habit had Vincent blindly nodding and following the Templar into the cover of night.  Ser Abernathy had been stationed at Ostwick for as long as Vincent could remember, and while he had never been outright cruel to his charges, he’d been stricter than most in finding any minor infraction and punishing severely for it.
“What can I help you with?” Vincent asked, habit again having him clasp his hands behind his back and rounding his shoulders to present the image of a cooperative, peaceful mage.  
He knew exactly what Ser Abernathy wanted to speak with him about.  The Templar hadn’t been quiet about publicly accusing Roz of blood magic.  Vincent figured that he was going to confront him privately to see just what the newly named Inquisitor would do about it before taking matters in his own hands.
“Rosalind.  She’s a maleficar.”
Vincent closed his eyes and decided to play stupid for a little while more, just to see what proof Ser Abernathy had.  “Roz?  Are you certain?”
“I’ve seen her perform firsthand.  I would have struck her down in Ostwick, but she moved out of my range.  I’ve been tracking her ever since; I have strong reason to believe that she’s one of the catalysts of the Circle rebellion.”  Ser Abernathy stared at him.  “She needs to face justice, be it by your hand or mine.”
“I understand.”  He sighed heavily.  “And I believe you.”  Vincent looked out to the small rocky clearing that Ser Abernathy had led him to.  It was remote, away from the main road, and no one traveled the currently unstable path this late at night.  No traffic meant that Ser Abernathy would have no witnesses, should Vincent stray from the expected Good Mage script.
Ser Abernathy seemed to be surprised by Vincent’s words, almost as if he had expected a fight.  Vincent thought it was strange, seeing that the Templar had neglected to wear any sort of armor.  Perhaps the fact that Vincent had a nearly thirty-year history of not rocking the boat had put him at ease when it came to his own safety, or maybe he figured that all he had to do was smite Vincent and easily overpower him if things came to it.  Either way, Vincent was on his guard.  “I thought that you would deny it.”
“I should be honest with you.  I’ve had my own suspicions for some time now, mostly scratches and cuts on her arms that could be easily explained away, but to hear that someone else has firsthand experience...as much as I want to, I can’t deny it.  Is there anyone else that was there that can back up your accusations?”
“No.  The Templars who were at Ostwick all died, save for me.”
Vincent nodded.  “Then I guess the big question now would be, what do we do about her?”
Ser Abernathy was quick to answer.  “Death or Tranquility.  They’re the only options that will suffice.”
Vincent felt his stomach knot and his heart jumped up to his throat at the thought of Roz suffering either fate.  He pinched the bridge of his nose and knew what he had to do.  “I can’t see Roz turn Tranquil.”
“Then you choose death for her.”
Vincent took another shuddering breath.  “Yes. I choose death.”
Ser Abernathy came up to him and clasped his hand over Vincent’s shoulder.  “I know that this was a difficult decision for you.  You’ve been friends with her ever since…”  Ser Abernathy didn’t finish, his breath seeming to hiss out of his mouth, his eyes wide as he stared at Vincent before looking down to the dagger stuck in his belly, belatedly realizing that Vincent had been armed.
Vincent’s expression was blank as he pulled Ser Abernathy closer. “I never said I chose death for Roz.”  He twisted his wrist and shoved the dagger deeper, moving aside as the dying Templar weakly clawed at him before collapsing, his eyes glazing over as he finally died.
Vincent stared at the body, alternating between relief that Roz was safe and wanting to throw up for killing someone.  He stared at his bloody hands, realizing they were shaking.
“You’re going to have to hide the body.”  Vincent spun around to see Rolfe slip out from the shadows.
“How long were you there?”  He’d never even heard anyone follow.
“I’ve been following the two of you ever since you left Skyhold.  I got a bad feeling from this guy and thought that he’d try something once he had you alone without any eyes.”  He crouched down and inspected Vincent’s handiwork, his fingers pressing against the dead man’s throat to check to see if he really was dead.  “I figured you could use someone to back you up if things went south.”
“I never saw you.”
Rolfe rolled his eyes.  “I’d be a shitty bodyguard if you would have seen me coming.”  He sat back on his heels.  “You okay?”
“He was going to hurt Roz.  He said that she was a blood mage, he…”
“I know, I heard. Slow, deep breaths.  This looks like it was your first kill; the first ones are always the worst.”
Vincent frowned at his brother.  “I’ve killed people before.”
“Yeah, and they’ve always been nameless faces, people who’ve attacked you first or that have done something to justify their deaths in some way.  Those are different kinds of deaths, ones you can go to sleep afterwards and not have them haunt you.  This was personal; you not only knew him from the Circle, but he was threatening someone you care about.”
“He was going to hurt Roz,” Vincent repeated.  “I couldn’t let that happen.”
“And I don’t blame you.  If I were in your shoes, I would have done the same thing.”  He tipped his head.  “Maybe not exactly like this, it’s going to take some messing around to make it look like an accident or some bandit attack, but I’ve worked with less before.”
“How can you be so...so...flippant about this?”  Vincent clenched his hands into fists, realizing that they were tacky with Ser Abernathy’s blood.
“Because you didn’t answer my question if you were okay.  I needed to get some sort of reaction out of you.”
“I’m fine,” Vincent said woodenly.
“Don’t stare at his face.  Committing what they look like in death to memory only fucks with you later on.”
“Have a lot of experience, don’t you?”
Rolfe shrugged.  “My place with the Order of the Sacred Flame wasn’t just keeping Chantry higher-ups alive from would-be assassins.  I have my share of assassinations under my belt, all in the name of Chantry politics.”  Rolfe pulled out the dagger from the body and wiped the blade on the dirt.  “How attached are you to this blade?”
“Not very.”
“Good, because I’m going to take a visit to the blacksmith and melt this down in the forge, get rid of the evidence.  You should head back to Skyhold.  I’ll hide the body for now, then get with Leliana and explain what happened.  Together we’ll dispose of it more permanently, make sure it keeps quiet.”
“I didn’t think that we’d have to involve Leliana in this.”
“It would be hard not to.  Besides, it’s better to get her involved at the start instead of waiting and chancing something gets complicated. Ser Abernathy’s accusations were already made out in public; people don’t believe them of course, but there’s still a few rumors we’re going to have to do some damage control on.”  Rolfe pulled out a canteen of water from his belt.  Vincent numbly wondered why Rolfe would have it, but then he noticed that Rolfe was wearing an unfamiliar cloak that he more than likely brought with him for the express purpose of rolling up a body in.  He’d come prepared.  “Hold your hands out, Vincent.  You’ve got blood on them.”
“Why are you doing this?”
“Because you’re my little brother, Vincent.  I’ve never had a brother to care for that would actually want me to look out for them before.”  Rolfe unscrewed the cap and poured water onto Vincent’s hands.  With his free hand, Rolfe began to rub at the already drying bloodstains.  “And because this sort of thing is for someone who has more than their share of blood on their hands.  It isn’t for you.  Your path doesn’t need to be as dark as mine.”
Rolfe’s expression was unreadable in the dark, but Vincent caught his tone of voice.  “Thank you,” he said quietly, drying his hands on his pants.  “This is going to be complicated, isn’t it?”
Rolfe shook his head.  “I think you underestimate your spymaster and your diplomat.  They’ve been working on angles to spin the rumors even before the first one reared its head.  You and Roz are in good hands.”
“Roz is all that matters, Rolfe.  I’ll do anything to keep her safe.”
“I know.  And right now you need to go to her.  If I read her right, she’s planning on running.  She hasn’t had a chance to bolt yet, but she’ll probably try to go under the cover of night, try to take herself out of the equation.”
“What?”
Rolfe raised an eyebrow.  “You aren’t the only one who would do anything to keep the ones you care about safe, Vincent.  She probably figures that if she’s not around, then the Inquisition won’t be known for harboring blood mages and your reputation will be intact.”
“So you believe it?”
“Not at first, and that’s a point in her favor.  She’s so unassuming that it makes accusations like this suspect.  And with no one alive to corroborate this one’s story, I’d say it won’t be difficult to put rumors down.”  Rolfe unclipped his cloak and spread it out close by the body. “When did you know?”
“After Redcliffe, after seeing what happened to her in the dark future.”
“Have you spoken to her about it?”
“Not directly.  She knows that I know, but we haven’t really spoken much about it.”
“It might be something you want to discuss.”  Rolfe rolled the body onto the cloak and efficiently wrapped it up.  He grunted as he hefted the body onto his shoulder and stood.  Ser Abernathy had been a solidly built man, even in his older years.  “Now, I need you to walk back to Skyhold as if nothing had happened.  I was watching and no one was around to see the two of you leave together, so his disappearance isn’t going to be something linked to you.  If it is questioned, I’m sure that we can say he was ashamed for accusing Roz with something so dire without any proof and left, never to be seen again.”
Vincent looked down at himself.  He was wearing dark clothes, but he could feel wetness against his stomach from the blood that he’d come in contact with. Hopefully no one would notice before he could get rid of the offending article of clothing.  “It’s pretty late, I should turn in.”
Rolfe nodded.  “You do look pretty tired.  It’s understandable; you’ve had a few big days recently and things tend to catch up with you when you least expect them to.  I think you should go straight up to your room after your little walk.”  Rolfe hitched the body higher on his shoulder and turned to go further down the way.  Vincent could barely make out the shape of a few decent sized boulders in the distance that would be excellent for temporarily hiding a body.
“I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Sounds good.  Tell Roz hello for me.  I like her; it wouldn’t be the same around here if she did decide to leave.”
“I will.”  Vincent started down the path he had come from, but stopped after taking a few steps.  “Your path doesn’t have to stay dark, Rolfe,” he quietly said.  “And you’ll always have a brother who cares about you, no matter if he needs your help or not.”
Rolfe didn’t say anything, he just squared his shoulders and slowly took off in the opposite direction, his gristly burden making him walk slower than he usually did. 
Vincent watched him for a while before the darkness hid him from view.  Taking a deep breath and willing his hands to stop shaking, he made his way back to Skyhold, hoping that he’d make it in time before Roz did decide to run.
He just hoped that he could make her change her mind and stay.
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shostakobitchh · 7 years
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Hey! I absolutely love your story! You are a fantastic writer, honestly one of the best I've ever came across! You're story is so well written, and I live for the relationship between Snape and Ariel! I was wondering if you could do a one shot on Snape finding/seeing Ariel kissing Damon... it's a reaction I would love to see!
thank you so much!
Severus wasn’t asking for much – just anything but this. 
He’d been in an increasingly bad soon since Umbridge’s observations had begun, his own scheduled for tomorrow, during Harry’s class – he’d been grateful it wouldn’t be happening during Ariel’s. Quite frankly, Severus didn’t know if she had enough self restraint to keep herself from ripping into Umbridge at the first remark she made. Knowing Ariel, she’d proclaim that Severus was a model teacher, and there would go his cover. Harry, at least, would provide a distraction if Severus felt like throttling someone. 
Choking, it seemed, was quickly turning into a past time. 
Severus was making his way to Dumbledore’s office when a familiar sound pulled him to a halt. Ariel’s laughter floated around him, the sound warm and breathless. 
He frowned – who was she with? He’d left Harry back in his quarters, and Black was tending to Lupin after the full moon… 
Naturally, Severus had to investigate. Now was around the time Ariel should have been making her way to his quarters – nights were spent with him, before Umbridge came sniffing. 
He would have rather run into the toad herself, instead of what he actually found. 
“You’re not funny,” Ariel was saying. “and not even remotely charming.” 
“I’d like to think I’m at least one of the two.” answered a voice that made Severus stiffen – Bellatrix’s brat. He should have guessed. 
“I’m sure you like to think a lot of things.” Ariel said, and Severus quickened his pace. “You have a bad habit of assuming.” 
“Do I?” Bellatrix’s brat leered. “I didn’t hear you complaining before.” 
Severus broke into a run. 
“Well, I didn’t say you were completely talentless, you numpty.” 
When he turned the corner, Bellatrix’s brat was seated on a bench, far too close to Ariel – she was practically in his fucking lap – and he was – 
“Ariel – Rose – Evans!” Severus thundered. 
They broke apart as Severus swooped forward, not allowing either of them to register who had spoken as he pulled his daughter away, unsheathing his wand from his robes. The room was vibrating – he could feel a buzzing in his teeth that made him dizzy, but he didn’t care. 
“Dad!” Ariel gasped, quickly standing as Severus charged. 
Bellatrix’s brat flew backwards, nearly toppling over the bench in the process. There was a wild look in his eyes Severus recognized. The boy’s body had gone into fight or flight mode. If circumstances had been different, Severus might’ve given a vicious, triumphant smile for finally scaring the little bastard, but all he could see was – 
He raised his wand, and Ariel grabbed his hand. 
“Stop it!” she pleaded. “C’mon Dad, please don’t!”
The boy was frozen, blue eyes locked on Severus’ wand. Severus knew he couldn’t Hex him – he absolutely couldn’t Curse him, or Dumbledore would have his head – but the fear in his usually smug face was immensely satisfying. Severus wanted to revel in it forever. 
“Walk away, Malfoy.” Severus snarled. “Before I change my mind.” 
“Dad – shit – Jesus, Dad, calm down!” Ariel wrestled his wand arm back. 
“Sir,” the boy tried – he had a death wish. “sir, please, I wasn’t –” 
“Walk away!” Severus boomed, shaking his arm free of Ariel’s grip. 
“Just go, Damon.” Ariel said hastily, moving to stand between them. “It’s alright – go.” 
Bellatrix’s brat gave her a long look Severus wanted to rip off. He hated the way he was looking at Ariel. It reminded him of Diggory, and that had ended in disaster. He’d be damned if he saw his girl hurt like that again. 
“Have you lost your mind?” Ariel shouted as the boy’s footfall faded, the only sound Severus’ labored pants. He leaned his head against the wall, focusing on the way his heart hammered inside his chest instead of Ariel’s question. He almost felt inclined to tell her yes – he knew there was nothing rational about his reaction, but he didn’t regret it for a second. 
“Since when do we like boys?” Severus demanded, turning his head slightly to look at her. His vision was still fuzzy. “Especially that boy?” 
“He’s actually my boyfriend, if you must know.” Ariel squared her chin, her dark eyes hard, like marbles. “And for a while now. I didn’t want to tell you just yet… for obvious reasons.” she eyed his wand like she wanted it to catch fire. 
“There are no boyfriends.” Severus snapped. “Ever.” 
“You can’t ban me from a relationship, Dad.” she rolled her eyes. “That’s not how it works.” 
“I will drown him in the lake if he ever tries doing that again.” 
“Doing what? Kissing me?” 
Severus recoiled. “If he so much as touches you –”
“I kissed him – what are you going to do about that?” Ariel challenged. 
“I will still put him in the lake and make sure he doesn’t come up!” 
“What’s wrong with me having a boyfriend?” she balled her fists at her side, leaning forward so that they were nearly nose-to-nose. “Is it really so ridiculous that someone might care about me like that? Or is it just because it’s Damon?”
“Don’t you dare make this about that.” Severus seethed. “That little shit wants only one thing –” 
Ariel quirked an eyebrow. “Oh? And what would that be?” 
He gave her a glower potent enough to crack the stone wall behind her head. “You know what I mean.” 
“You had me when you were nineteen.” she said. “You don’t get to talk to me about unprotected sex.” 
Severus, for the first time in a very long time, stared back, unable to form a coherent response. That had been the last thing he’d been expecting her to throw at him, of all the things she could have said… 
… and she was fucking right. He couldn’t even compose himself to pick his jaw up from off the floor. 
Ariel smirked triumphantly. “Three year difference when it comes to that, see.” 
He closed his eyes, and covered them with his hand. “I can’t believe you’re using that as your argument.” 
“I can’t believe you almost Hexed my boyfriend through a wall.” 
“I already told you, I’m using the sodding lake.” 
“Dad,” Ariel sighed, obviously exasperated – this annoyed him. “is it really the end of the world?” 
“Yes.” Severus ground out, and he meant it. 
She gave him a stony glare. “Is it just the snogging, or Damon?” 
Both – absolutely, positively the both of those two things. Combined, Severus wanted to jab his wand into his eye socket and scramble his brain. 
“It is,” he was clenching his jaw so hard that it felt like it would break off. “the fact that of all the little dunderheads, in all the corridors, you chose that boy, in the corridor I just so happened to be walking down, as you were… taking ten years off my life.” 
Her face brightened. “We’ll gladly stay out of your way.” 
“That doesn’t make me feel any better.” it didn’t – it made him feel worse. He wondered if she’d react badly if he locked her in his quarters until he got rid of Bellatrix’s brat permanently.  
Ariel shrugged. “We could always use your quarters –” 
“NO – no.” Severus said, reigning in his voice. “Just…” 
He didn’t know what to say to her. He wanted to tell her to end it – break it off and wash her hands of the brat. It could only end one of two ways, and Severus didn’t know if he wanted either option. The boy could break her… or be around, permanently. The latter horrified Severus, but the former… he’d rather cut off his own hand than see her go through that again. 
Severus pinched the bridge of his nose. “Does he make you happy?” 
Ariel blinked. “He does.” 
He gave her a long, pensive look. “I trust that you know what you want.” 
“Does that mean you’re not going to drown him?” a smile was slowly spreading across her face, igniting her eyes. 
“Never say never.” Severus said darkly. 
“I love you, regardless.” she grinned up at him. “You know that, right?” 
“So you claim.” 
Ariel linked her arm with his. “I do – even if I know you’re still going to try and off him anyway.” 
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I write to Remember Chapter 24
A/N: Brushes off the dust… I had a sudden spurr of inspiration and came up with this. Let me know what you guys think. For everyone who has stuck around I can’t thank you enough. These past few years have been a complete roller coaster and I’m sorry I wasn’t around to keep my stories going while I went through it all. Hopefully I’ve come back as a stronger writer but in the end I just really enjoy it and that’s the important part right? Anyways enjoy!
The days passed faster than I could hold on to them. Each day bringing us somberly closer to the impending notion that Hayley would be leaving again. My stomach was churning at the thought but I knew I had to be strong. I needed to show her that I trusted her again and actually try my best to. Sure she would be alone… doing whatever she wanted…. With whoever she wanted…. But…. We were giving this one last go so go hard or go home right?
I splashed my face in the sink. Trying to remind myself this was only temporary. The day Hayley left was only yesterday but it already felt like a million years. I had planned on visiting them, Hayley even invited me to stay for a few weeks but I had talked myself out of it. I needed to get out of this irrational fear. Okay so maybe it wasn’t so irrational but if we were going to work I needed to learn to trust her again because after an album there were tours and those lasted a lot longer than just making an album. I needed to be strong. But how was I supposed to when I could barely remember who I was before I met Hayley. Would it be possible for me to be an individual again while also still being in a relationship with someone that had me wrapped around their finger?
Time to grow a back bone and remember who you were…Are… I thought to myself.
……………………………….
Week one was probably the hardest. You don’t really realize how much time you spend with someone til you are forced to do everything alone. Shopping, movies, napping, driving. I felt like an isolated prisoner in my own home and I hated it. Sure we chatted, we facetimed but there was already a time difference and they were trying to create an album, distractions weren’t exactly welcome. She faithfully called me before I went to sleep every night even if it was for a quick goodnight and I love you’s but it didn’t stop the pang in my chest or the fear that was growing inside me.
…………………………………….
Week 2 wasn’t much easier. We still talked but not quite as regularly because they were starting to track vocals so she was basically on permanent voice rest which made communicating on anything other then text pretty hard. I had decided I was going to stop moping around and try and get out so I tried my knack at running. I lasted a good 5 minutes before I was bent over huffing and trying to remember if I had asthma or not with the way I was breathing. I mean I knew I was decently out of shape but damn did it suck to feel it firsthand. I also tried hot yoga that week…. Another NO. There was absolutely no reason to be that sweaty for something as casual as yoga! By the end of the week I felt the same pain, just also physical pain from being sore. I went to sleep with icy hot rubbed on my calves and joint and made the bed smell of bengae instead of Hayley’s hair. I was forced to finally wash my sheets ridding the odd and peculiar mixture of icy hot and Hayley’s scent once and for all. For this not being a break up it really freaking felt like one, but I was committed. I needed to be able to be an individual and find myself before I went jumping into some serious relationship. I wasn’t going to ever loose myself the way I had before. There had to be a way to love someone but not lose yourself in the process. You’re supposed to grow together, not grow over one another and I felt like a helpless plant that had been taken over by weeds and other invasive species.
………………………………………..
Week three was somewhat better. They had taken a break from vocals to write some more songs and Hayley was finally able to talk more. We texted less and actually had less phone calls but in a way it made it more meaningful. We had more to talk about if we spoke fewer times then discussing our entire day through texts and stumbling to find good topics over the phone when we had already heard the play by plays of one another’s day the whole time. This week I thought I was try maybe a bit of poetry. I mean I played guitar and wrote a bit but poetry was always an interesting subject for me. I had recently found a favorite poet online who really capture the essence of so many things I was feeling bubbling inside of me over this past year or so but more importantly I went back through my old writings too. The days when I couldn’t get enough or when I just needed to get away.
I looked through one in particular catching my attention. It made my heart clench to remember how long yet not long enough it was that I had written this out. I read it my eyes scanning the paper feeling the tears well at the sides of my eyes.
Pick me like a flower
Pick me like a book
Pick me, oh pick me like I wasn’t overlooked
Pick me like I was always your first choice
Pick me like you couldn’t fathom anyone else
Pick me and tell the others even when I’m not around
Pick me like I’m wanted
Pick me like I’m not dead
Pick me like you promised
But you picked them instead.
I put it back down my mind made up. I wanted to go to a poetry slam this week. That would be my goal To listen to others put their feelings into words and figure out what the hell I was doing and who I was under all of this drama, heartache and nonsense.
It was a surreal feeling listening to all these people, much more brave than I as they walked up on stage and spoke their feelings, their mind and their heart through words. I never felt like I was all that good with words, I guess that’s why I played music, not wrote it but still. I cried, I laughed, and I felt for the people as I listened to poem after poem. When it ended I sat there with my drink, just thinking.
When I finally made my way home I was shaking. What had happened to me? I love Hayley. I knew that but what the hell happened to the girl who would be okay on her own? The girl who was fine with the old Hayley who ignored her? What happened to the Casey who just played her heart out in music and lived life? Where was she and for the life of me how did I find her again? I just wanted to feel like my own person again goddamn it, was that really so much to ask for?
My phone began ringing and I grabbed it my anger and frustration coming out as I answered
“What?”
“Woah…. What happened? Or more so who did it?” Hayleys familiar voice filled the line
My anger faded a bit feeling a bit guilty for yelling at her for no reason.
“Sorry. I’ve just had a bit of a rough day…” I said laying into my couch
“I figured something was up when I didn’t get a text about you going to bed” She said back through the line
“I just….. Hayley do you remember when you hated me?” I asked
“Wait. I never hated you Case” She quickly said
“No. I mean. Well when you didn’t like me then?” I asked again to clarify
“It was never about not liking you. It was about liking you more then I should’ve. The day we kissed you flipped my world upside down and it was my feeble attempt at trying to keep things in control that I had no control over” She said rustling as I heard her settle into a couch or maybe blanket
“Yeah but do you remember what I was like?” I pushed
“Well yeah. You were cool. You were always very cool to me. Like those kids you have to watch from a distance. You never seemed to ever care that I gave you the cold shoulder or that I ignored you. Everyone loved you and I was always so angry that you just had that natural effect on everyone” She said
“but now….” I stuttered not sure if I wanted to hear the answer
“But now I realize I was a complete idiot. I should have figured out a long time ago that everything I could ever want and need was right in front of me….” She breathed out. My heart fluttered but I caught myself.
“I think I lost myself” I said quietly
“What do you mean Case?” Hayley questioned slowly
“I think… I think I threw myself so hard into you and what I felt for you that along the way I lost myself… and now…. Now I’m not sure I know who I am anymore….” I said quietly trying not to let her hear the quiver in my voice.
“Case” She said quietly unsure how to even respond.
“I know its not something you can fix. Especially over the phone. But that’s what I’ve been working on while you’ve been gone. I want to be able to be my own person again….” I said quietly the words coming out without as much strength as I’d hoped.
“What exactly are you saying Casey….” She questioned the fear blatantly obvious in her voice
“Oh fuck. No Hayles. I don’t mean anything with me not wanting to be with you or anything” I said quickly picking up on her worries. I heard her audibly sigh in relief.
“I just… I wanted you to know. Because… Well… I think it should be important to be able to be in a relationship but also still be your own person. You can be two separate people and still be madly in love you know?” I asked
“Yeah. I understand that. So…. You’re doing a bit of a journey to find yourself is what you’re saying?” She asked to be sure
“Yeah. Yeah I guess I am…. I just want to find the person who was in there before we went through everything we went through… and I know I don’t necessarily have to be the same person because weve obviously grown and changed but I just need to find some part of me, something to remind me that I am my own person you know?” I said
“Yeah. I get what you mean. Well I’m here Case if you need me for anything but I understand also if you want to take a step back during this time too. Whatever you want to do and anything I can do to help” She said supportively. I smiled she honestly was the best girlfriend.
“Thank you” I said quietly smiling into the phone. We didn’t take much more time on the phone before I let sleep take over and we said our goodnights. So it was official. Plan Find yourself Casey was beginning and I would be damned if by the end of it I didn’t find something by the end of this.
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bartsugsy · 7 years
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Do you think they wrote the past abortion stuff in at the last minute to make Becky more sympathetic? If not, they're writing an idiot. If the last tryst with someone I loved had resulted in a painful and upsetting abortion I didn't want, the LAST THING I would do would be to have unprotected sex with them. When she says "Oh it's such a mess!" after finding out she's pregnant, its like she has no agency at all. Things just happen TO her. Not BECAUSE OF HER actions (and Robs' - he's no blameless)
(((a preface: this is a mess and it got out of hand)))
I mean…. yes and no. I think it was maybe in part to make her sympathetic, but also more to give the writers an easy, plotty reason as to why Rebecca isn’t going to just be able to get an abortion, despite the way Robert treats her, the fact that her family will inevitably disown her once more and the fact that she’s got (or had) a boyfriend and has never shown any interest in settling down and starting a family, given how all we know about her past is that she’s a free spirited island hopping DJ who has never settled down anywhere or laid roots for too long, who never even spends time at home or seems particularly family oriented (helped by the fact that there’s a real lack of love in her entire family).
It was literally just a plot device. I’ve maintained that I think the real reason why the baby exists, at its core, is to ensure Robert can’t run away from this particular mistake - that there is a tangible reason why he has to come clean and hurt Aaron in the process. This is not to take away from the fact that he’s about to own up to his mistake - he already did that with Chas literally the next day and was prepared to do it at the prison visit. That’s still marked character growth for him. But the baby gives Robert’s mistake a consequence, much in the same way that prison was a consequence for Aaron.
So yes, literally just a plot device. Once we start reading into how that particularly lazy plot device works with the overall narrative, we start asking emmerdale to look closer at how they tell their stories than they’re ever going to.
I mean. I’m gonna do it anyway, but I just want to preface this post with the fact that I know that the show really doesn’t care about this level of continuity and detail as much as we do. They just needed a way to get the characters to whatever place they’re going to get to this week and the next.
The fact is, in character as it very much is, the abortion reveal screws up a lot of what we know about Rebecca and her relationship with Robert - and how she sees her relationship with Robert.
Her entire attitude to him in the early days - wanting to get up to mischief with him, lead him into cheating on Aaron, more interested in being on his side than the side of her family to the point where she actively goes behind their backs multiple times for Robert, openly disliking the fact that Robert seemed tamed or less “old Robert” (which I guess we can say comes from jealousy over Aaron rather than an actual explicit preference towards the terrible, philandering Rob of old) and most importantly…
the fact that she and Robert have spoken about their sexcapades so fondly, as good memories???
All of this makes so much less sense with the reveal that he forced her to get an abortion, thereby traumatising her to the point where she’s still hurt about it even now, 4(?) years later.
And yes - she still jumped into bed with him and had unprotected sex. Yes, Robert knew the exact right things to say to get her to sleep with him, the right promises to make, but…
I mean, he was drunk and also he’s a bloke - anyone who has ever had sex with dudes knows that typically they care a hell of a lot less about using protection than girls. Rebecca would *know* this, it’s insulting to say she wouldn’t.
But also…. if she really believed what he was promising, that they’d finally be together and it would all be real this time, taking out the fact that he was drunk for just a second, are you telling me she couldn’t pause to go find some birth control?
Adding in the fact that he had drunk an entire bottle of whiskey, are you telling me that, if she truly believed him, why couldn’t she have just let him sleep it off and talk to him the next morning?
She heard what she wanted to hear but also, on some level, knew that this might be her only shot? She wanted it and has always wanted it badly enough that she could make herself believe what he was saying to be true and ignore any voice in her head that might be telling her to use any level of common sense or consideration for Robert here.
Which is gross, but… Rebecca isn’t stupid. Robert has openly admitted to manipulating her time and time again and she still always trusts him, always hears exactly what she wants to hear with him. She knows who he is and still has this fantasy in her head that this time might be different.
My honest theory is that I just don’t think, knowing the character (and I use this term loosely because there’s not much consistent characterisation to her), that if it were anyone else’s baby I just don’t think she’d have as much attachment to it as she does because it’s Robert’s. I don’t think this decision would be as hard for her, because I wonder if deep down the idea of having something that ties her permanently to Robert is too good for her to pass up.
I mean, I guess we’ll see what she says this week and next. From what EH and IM have said (and I take their word with a heap of salt at this point hm), she’s going to be magically over Robert now - because the first abortion and the last 7 months weren’t enough, but this apparently tipped her over the edge. We’ve seen it before and it hasn’t played out like that - I mean, I’d prefer it to, personally, but for the character, whose every flipping decision seems to revolve around Robert Sugden in some way, I just don’t think that it’s believable that she won’t want anything to do with Robert but will still want to keep the baby.
I’m getting totally ahead of myself now though, because I’m basing this on speculation, so I guess we’ll see how it plays out.
…I’ve gotten kind of off subject, but the reveal of the first abortion, to me, retcons too much and takes a lot more jigging about and fanwanking to make work than I usually like to do, which is why it annoys me. I think it’s just an easy answer to the question of why she wouldn’t just get rid of it now, without her having to say to Robert that she doesn’t want to get rid because it’s Robert’s - and I suppose that in turn opens the door for them to have her start to get over her feelings for him again, even though narratively that makes no sense.
As I say, it’s not out of character for the old Robert “nothing but the most extreme action will do when someone wants to hurt or destroy my relationship with Chrissie” Sugden
I don’t know if this mess of an answer makes any sense 😌
anyways, I think the first abortion does three things:
- Gives Rebecca an excuse to not want to have an abortion this time around- Distances Robert from Rebecca and helps make it very clear that Robert doesn’t have lingering romantic feelings for her - Yes, gives Rebecca another sympathetic moment where we see how yet again, despite her every single best effort, Robert is never going to have the level of concern or care for her that she wants, and she’s never going to be a priority for Robert - certainly not over Aaron and his family.
and i’m gonna stop typing before i start going on about something else 😌 when will i learn to properly structure my answers in a legible and sensible way 😌 never.
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polygonaesthetic · 7 years
Text
Blog Post #45
Here’s one I wrote back in 2015 and never thought I would release onto my private blog but I feel like it’s worth publishing this out here as I feel this is ever so relevant towards shifting feelings I’m experiencing right now, as I become much more comfortable with expressing my sexuality and being a “gay woman” becoming an important, ingrained part of my own identity. 
Reading through this piece of writing again, I do cringe and it’s hard to not omit certain parts and try and censor myself, when I must come to terms with the fact that these are/were my own thoughts and were exactly how I felt. I suppose by posting this online, despite this being my private blog and my actual identity is unknown to anyone, I’m allowing myself to feel vulnerable and exposed.
As mentioned above, me posting this comes from recent shifting feelings about my sexuality which may lead to me adding onto this post sometime soon, but anyway, here it is: 
----------
GAY: PT. I ----------
So… gosh… awkward isn’t it. Not really used to writing down raw thoughts onto the web.
I’m probably not even going to post this at the rate I’m going now, but oh well here goes.
I need to get rid of something on my chest.
Are you ready?
Here goes. . . . . . . .
I think I’m kinda gay.
//----------------------------------------------------------------------------// SEXUAL BEGINNINGS -----------------
Here I am. 12 years old, casually sitting on the bus when I come across an article on Cosmopolitan. Let me hasten to add that I’ve never really read the Cosmopolitan out of interest before, apart from the odd fitness article (“How to get KILLER ABS in 5 DAYS!111!!”), which I end up skimming over anyway.
To put it bluntly, the article was about sex… and a writer’s incredibly damn raw expression of it. Like: “hands clutching against the bedsheets”, “o lawd I was ramming into her”, “she reached the Big O” kinda stuff. And I’m not gonna lie, I felt something reading that article. Sexual awakening, pretty much.
I’m not going to lie, I stumbled across porn way before I read this article… and yeah… I watched porn a few times.. and yeah… I masturbated, yet I didn’t really know what it meant. I knew it was bad but, I never really understood the whole sex thing. I guess the only reason I found it so... well good... is because it was so "forbidden". I mean the first time I found porn, I was around 9 (roughly 2008/9) and my mum caught me... the same day... because in my scared flurry, I kinda forgot how I could get rid of all of the evidence... so instead of deleting those pages from my history, guess what I did... Yeah, I just cleared my Google search history, hoping that would just magically delete all of the tons of porn I had just subjected my innocent 9 year old eyes to. Woo. Fun.
So, from then on, I just didn't watch porn at all. I was so scared by it that I just didn't touch it. Obviously, after the last fiasco, my mum drilled it into me that I was dirty because I stumbled across porn and basically, only future prostitutes watch porn. Well I guess the whole world are prostitutes then...
I kid. But, as I was saying, I started watching porn again since I was 11, but not very frequently. I found that if I squeezed my legs together while I was watching it, it kinda felt good after a while.
So here I am, 12 years old, on the bus, reading this article, when I'm just kinda reading this article and I'm like, "Oh gosh. This is actually evoking some strange emotions within me, like they feel good, but they're kinda weird. wtf.", so I kinda started exploring in my head. I flicked to an image in my head of the first boy I could think of, so I could kinda attach some sort of personality to this weird man thing I had conjured up in my head and well.. yeah, I won't delve too deep into what I fantasised with this person. Obviously, I knew that I'd never do that in real life and, as a matter of fact, I was questioning whether I was actually comfortable with doing it ever. Like, I wasn't sure I'd be comfortable to do this at all in my life. Which leads me onto the next chapter.
//----------------------------------------------------------------------------// ASEXY AND I KNOW IT -------------------
Next kinda chapter of this, is kinda after me finding out and exploring what sex kinda is, and my sexual feelings, and now after finding out that different sexualities are a thing and don't really discriminate (I'll come to this a little later in this series. Can I even call it a series? idk.). So now I'm kinda questioning my sexuality. This is just after I had a super huge dark spot in my life where I struggled with coming to terms with my Asperger's and it was a huge part of my life and I just tried to stick labels on myself and wow, such confusing stuff, but I'll try to stay on topic, so I'll come back to this in a different blog post.
So, it was on an Asperger's forum where I first heard about asexuality, and previous to that, sexuality was pretty much: you're either straight... or you're gay. So a pretty black and white view. The more I started to read about asexuality, the more it kinda resonated with me.
My thoughts were like, "Hold up. You've been having these feelings for a pretty long time, but wait... remember how you watch porn and you fantasize... obviously you can't be asexual. But wait, you know that you get freaked out about sex and you never truly have any sexual feelings towards anyone.". And let me just point out that at this point in my life, I was a very confused person and just wanted to fit /somewhere/. To fit some sort of label, which I obviously now realise wasn't a very smart move.
So I decided I was asexual. I felt like I finally found out who I was. And to this day, I'm still not sure if I am asexual or not, I probably won't /really/ find out until I try. That's probably the only way that'll work for me. I'm a very hands-on person. I've only just realised how ironic that was. But yeah, essentially, I find out what I like and don't like by doing, trying and just experimenting. But obviously, I would never want to upset anyone by going into a relationship as a means of finding myself out. I could never do such a thing to someone.
Ok. So now I was asexual. I still didn't want to /come out/ to my mum, but I did come out to a couple of my friends at school and they took it fairly well, but obviously still had some questions that even I couldn't really answer myself.
I felt good about myself though. I found something I felt comfortable with and surprisingly enough, a few weeks, maybe month after, it was gay pride. Now at this point, I was still largely in the dark about sexuality and didn't /fully/ understand the whole LGBT spectrum and still had some stereotypes about LGBT+ that were sadly drilled into my head by my vaguely homophobic mother and general upbringing, which I will talk about in the next chapter, as I come to explore other sexualities.
So, where was I? Gay pride. I had learned quite a bit about LGBT+ anyway from Tumblr and the such, but still quite in the dark. So to see gay pride and the gay pride parade, I was like, "Gosh, wow, look at these people accepting themselves and who they are, gosh, that's damn cool!". My mum was also quite *happy* during pride (yet still managed to mock gays after, by saying that they're not "quality" people, go figure). I had considered coming out by that point, but decided not do, due to the "repercussions" of my actions and how "permanent" that would be. (you might have picked up by this point, that I was not /that/ close with my mum and not that comfortable with expressing myself, which obviously is something I'll go into later in another blog post.).
Well, that was it. I was asexual. Still not open about it, but if people asked if I was, I'd explain it to them. That was me set for then, didn't really pay much attention to sexuality that much from them on. Well... until recently. But that's another chapter.
//----------------------------------------------------------------------------// HIKING BOOTS ARE GR8 --------------------
So, here I am now. A so called asexual. Haven't really considered the possibilities of me being gay at all, or liking the same sex at all. Well, not much. There were a few signs, but I kinda just shrugged them away... like I do with every other problem I have! (because that's totally healthy *winks*).
Let me just give you a small brief overview of my life so far. Grew up believing homosexuality was inherently wrong. Yadda yadda. Had friends who came out as gay, became more aware, mind was opened, joined Tumblr and generally became more open and totally accepting and tolerant of all people, no matter where they were on the LGBT+ spectrum. I mean, I was always naturally accepting of people, if they had quirks, I was just curious, because you know... I wasn't exactly your common girl during my childhood either. So I was accepting of all sexualities etc. and I was, well, asexual, but I had never questioned whether I was ever attracted to the same sex, really.
I kinda believed that I was just fluid for a while. I just accepted everyone. If I liked that person, I'd just give it a shot, being non-discriminatory amongst genders etc. Basically, the try, do, experiment, "hands-on" approach I described in the last chapter.
That probably made me pan- or something, I don't know. But let's just say that I was just generally accepting. But recently, I've just decided to question something that was secretly bugging me for a while.
dun dununu.
Do I freakin' like girls?
The answer is: yes I fucking might.
As you've probably gathered from the whole series by now, I had a fairly sexually repressed childhood. Everything I knew about sex was from porn, things I heard from other people and just generally sheer curiosity. That's all.
Whatever I could find about sex, I was like, "woah. sex. woahhhh.".
So, I've kinda been immersed into gay over the last months or so and weirdly enough, it was the pride parade! And it was awesome! And it was great to say the least.
And also, weirdly enough, I started watching Hannah Hart again... and also managed to come across her coming out videos. So I watched them. And I was like, "hm... fuk. i probably do like girls.".
And it doesn't help that I go to a girls' school. And a lot of the people I hang out with happen to be gay (gaydar on fleek *winks* ). As soon as I questioned my stance with people of the same sex, it just hit me like a firetruck.
I've been making sexual innuendos with girls from my school since god knows when. I check out girls damn it. Gosh, even at pride, the way Ilooked at this one woman, only God knows what unholy thoughts were going through my head at that time.
And heck, I even have massive crushes on some of my female teachers. (I'm slighty sure Miss Evans is gay, but even if she isn't, may Jesus praise her body. sweet Jesus almighty).
And Hannah Hart. Where do I even start. (also rhyming).
Not gonna lie, I'm just gonna come clean. Some girls at school just make me go, "hot damn".
But yeah, that's kinda where I'm at at the moment, but in the next chapter, I'll go on to explain my skepticism of whether this is just a phase and my skepticism of my skepticism of whether this is just.. a phase. Yeah. Fun. Woo.
//----------------------------------------------------------------------------// WHERE'S THE RECEIPT TO MY HIKING BOOTS? ---------------------------------------
I might be closer to accepting myself as gay/bisexual/pansexual yadda yadda. But, obviously, as any person would... I have doubts.
Doubts about whether I'm just going through a phase.
I mean, even one of my close(r) friends, after I painfully described what I was going though, asked me whether it could just be a "phase". And I was open about it, and I replied, "Maybe. I don't know. That's why I came for you for help, don't make this any more complicated that it is.".
So the reason I have doubts about being attracted to the same sex, is... well... I'll just be frank.
It's sex.
You see, I'm wondering whether it's because I've just been conditioned to believe that PiV sex is the only one which I would find enjoyable and "satisfying" and that sex with a woman won't be "right" and it'll be "unpure" and not the same. Maybe it's because I've just been conditioned to only be "sexy" for men and "sexy" with women is just downright weird and deserves to be looked down upon.
Go figure.
Maybe it's because the only porn I've been "brought up" (nah, that sounds weird) watching, is straight porn, and is now the only porn I can get off to. And looking at "bulges" feels normal... and I /should/ be aroused by looking at a damn outline of a man's sexual organ. And that only a man will make me feel "right" and you can't have kids with a woman you love, because they just won't be "yours". Whatever.
I guess that I wouldn't really know how to have sex with a woman, if I'm being completely honest. I don't really know and lesbian porn isn't exactly helpful in teaching me that and I haven't really found any resources online.
All I can say now is that, women are beautiful, and funny, and intelligent and hawt. And tbh, everyone, regardless of gender, race, colour, whatever, can be beautiful, funny, intelligent and hawt.
So yeah, that's me done for now, at the time of writing. I might release another chapter, if I feel the urge to do so. I mean writing this has been kinda cathartic and I've kinda managed to accept myself that one bit more.
peace.
    ."".    ."",     |  |   /  /     |  |  /  /     |  | /  /     |  |/  ;-._     }  ` _/  / ;     |  /` ) /  /     | /  /_/\_/\     |/  /      |     (  ' \ '-  |      \    `.  /       |      |       |      |
~felderman
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