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#previously it was strings on their hands instead. and now she cut them off bc portia and also smth smth about the difference
bisexualcrowley · 4 years
Text
Undercover
Pairing: Harry Hart x Fem! reader
Summary: While doing surveillance at a gala, Y/n and Harry's identities are threatened to be uncovered and they take to a rather intimate method of hiding their faces
Content/warnings: smutty themes? nsfw, fluffy stuff, cursing, suggestive themes, semi-public foreplay/teasing, making out, Merlin’s still alive bc i want him to be
Word count: 3,729
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“A Gala. In the middle of winter, this means I might have to fight in heels, is this really necessary Merlin?” Y/n sighed, glancing out at the light drifting of snow that had begun to flutter down from the sky. Its not that she had anything against winter, the woman mused to herself, just that it makes this sort of work so much more difficult. 
The year had been tough enough already, having lost Harry to Valentine, getting Harry back, the whole issue with the Golden Circle, and the constant stress was getting to Y/n, the smallest thing now able to piss her off, and unfortunately for her, this latest mission seemed to be more than a small thing. “C’mon Y/n, i know we all could use some rest but this is important, the target is threatening to release catastrophic amounts of classified government information. I’m not asking you to be on the front line here, I just need you and Galahad on the sidelines, more as surveillance and backup than anything else.”
Y/n had been less than impressed with Merlin’s words, wanting to stay as far away as possible from field work until she had gotten a decent amount of sleep, but her ears perked up at the mention of her best friend and previous partner at Kingsman.
“You’re letting Harry in the field again?”
She asked, surprised at the man’s words. “I thought you said he wasn’t ready yet, after the problems he had while working alongside the American agents.
“Not fully, as i said, the two of you will just be keeping tabs on him from the crowd, not making contact unless absolutely necessary.” Merlin must have picked up on Y/n’s eagerness to work alongside Harry again and allowed himself a slight smile as he spoke, sliding the paperwork across the table to the younger agent. “This place is fancy, i mean really fancy, you’re gonna want to look your very best. Go over his papers today and be here dressed and ready at 20:30 tomorrow. And I mean it, y/n, be dressed to kill, in more than just the metaphoric sense”
Most of her annoyance having melted away at the mention of Harry, Y/n agreed, taking the papers and shaking Merlin’s hand before turning on her heel and jogging down the hall of the Kingsman offices, hoping to find her friend. Luckily Y/n didn’t need to search far, finding him in the actual tailor section of the building being fit for a tuxedo.
Y/n caught Harry’s eye in the mirror in front of him and she shot him a grin, leaning casually against the door frame. “Lookin’ good, Galahad. Excited to be headin’ back into it?” She asked, affection shining in her smile at the sight of Harry Hart suiting up for battle once again. 
It was no secret among many of the Kingsman agents that Y/n had fallen hard for the man, her feelings becoming clear to them when Harry was shot as she had broken down in tears at the news despite being one of Kingsman’s toughest agents, however she did manage to keep the secret from Harry himself, terrified of losing the relationship they already had by revealing her feelings only to find that they weren’t reciprocated. 
Eggsy and Merlin, of course, had required a fair amount of bribery to be convinced to keep their mouths shut, finding the whole situation more than amusing and wanting nothing more than to spill the beans to Harry, whom they were fully convinced shared y/n’s feelings. Y/n didn’t crack though, and eventually the men had settled on the childish teasing of Y/n and placing bets on who would make the first move. Eggsy had put 50 pounds on Y/n cracking first, but Merlin put his money on Harry, having said something about Eggsy underestimating the woman.
At the moment, despite her refusal to share her feelings with Harry, Y/n feared that Eggsy was going to be the one to win the wager as she felt her heart beat faster at the happy smile Harry had offered her in return.  “Looking forward to be working alongside you again, Y/n, it’s been lonely without my partner”
Y/n felt her face heat up at the compliment, but determined not to let her resolve fail she once again held back the words she wanted so badly to tell her friend, instead choosing to push herself off the doorframe and saunter over to Harry’s position in the center of the room.  “So... A gala. Haven’t done one of these together in ages, have we.”  Y/n’s hand came to rest on Harry’s shoulder, still not having broken their eye contact through the mirror. “It has been a while, although luckily, I never forgot how to dance”
Y/n’s confident exterior faltered at his words, tilting her head to the side and eyebrows furrowing in confusion. “We have to dance?” She asked, voice coming out far quieter than she had hoped. Harry let out a very ungentlemanly laugh at her shock, turning his gaze from the mirror to meet his friend’s eyes properly. “I’d assume Merlin didn’t tell you for this very reason, y/n” He chuckled. “We’d stick out too much, standing in the middle of a ballroom. To draw the least amount of attention to our position, we’re gonna have to dance”
Y/n froze for a moment, weighing her options. On one hand, she thought, I’m dancing with Harry. On the other hand, i’m dancing. In public. What a terrifying thought, i should just tell Merlin i won’t do it. But if i don’t do it, i don’t dance with Harry. 
She squinted slightly, fighting herself for which option was better, but in the end decided that the upside of pretending to be Harry’s date outweighed the negatives in the situation, and after another moment of hesitation, Y/n nodded, nervously drumming her fingers on the man’s shoulder.
“Alright then. If we’re gonna dance, we’re gonna do it right. I’m gonna go find a dress, i guess. See you tomorrow, Galahad” Y/n breathed, a hint of humor making it’s way into her words as she went on, which to her luck Harry picked up on, and replied with an exaggerated salute, earning him a giggle and smile from Y/n before she slung on a coat and took off again.
Lucky for her the London streets were nearly empty, most seeking cover from the bitter cold within the comfort of their homes, and the trip to her own home was quick for Y/n. Almost immediately upon arriving, she threw open the doors of her closet, flicking through hanger after hanger of clothes that Merlin would be less than happy about her wearing to such a prestigious event. It appeared that luck was still on her side, however, as Y/n paused, pulling out a dress previously hidden behind a thick winter coat.  It was beautiful, a slim gown of deep green velvet with a loose, plunging neckline and thin black straps with a shimmering gold woven throughout, and y/n smiled, knowing it would be perfect for the following night.
The next day passed quickly, Y/n having to study the target’s file, shower, do her hair and makeup, fit a variety of concealed weaponry on her person, and what felt to her like a million other things, and it felt like no time at all before she found herself outside the Kingsman Tailor shop, glittering heels clicking along the icy sidewalk leading up to the building. Y/n reached for the door handle, shivering slightly in the cold but was met with the door swinging open in her face, Merlin staring down at her with Eggsy, Tequila and Harry behind him. 
“Y/n, you’re late, c’mon, there’s a car waiting in the back, c’mon lets go” Merlin ushered her along, the group rounding the building to find a black towncar waiting in the alley. It took a bit of maneuvering to fit everyone into the vehicle, coats bunching up in the small space, but eventually the group situated themselves in a somewhat comfortable fashion, and they were off.
The drive was longer than Y/n had expected, but no time was spent relaxing, having found herself rather distracted by her body being pressed against a very well dressed Harry, the cramped space forcing her leg to shift up onto Harry’s so that she was sitting partially on his lap, a position that had the both of them blushing furiously and Tequila chuckling from Harry’s left. 
Hoping to distract from the uncomfortable and unfortunately mildly arousing way she was seated, Y/n leaned forward to peer past Harry and raised an eyebrow at the American agent, who in return mimicked her expression, which brought a mix of annoyance and amusement to the still blushing woman.  “Mind if i ask why Harry was forced into the middle seat? Last time i checked, i’d fit a fair bit better” Y/n asked, Harry humming in agreement with her statement.
“Why, you wanna sit on my lap instead?” Tequila smirked, earning a snort of laughter from Eggsy and Merlin in the front seat and a glare from Y/n, where Harry shifted uncomfortably and blushed harder.
Y/n’s snapped back, but her retort was cut short at the feeling of the car slowing to a stop and Merlin leaning over the drivers seat to run over the night’s details one last time. 
The plan went smoothly from then, Eggsy and Tequila positioning themselves near the main doorways and Merlin settling himself behind a computer, leaving Harry and Y/n to shed their coats and make their way further into the ballroom. A string quartet was set in the middle of the north wall, playing what y/n recognized immediately to be a slower rendition of the seal lullaby, and she fought the urge to twirl around a couple times, instead smoothing out her dress and holding out a hand to Harry.
“Well Mr. Hart, may i have this dance?” Y/n spoke calmly, careful to avoid appearing overly enthusiastic so as not to draw unnecessary attention to the pair, but the warmth shining in her eyes was undisguisable to Harry, who took her arm with a smile and led her to their position in the ballroom.
The image of the two Kingsman agents settling into a graceful mix of a waltz and a simple slow dance was reflected off the marble floors, creating what would have been a beautiful photo had there been a photographer near them and y/n relished in the moment, hand clasped with Harry’s, his hand pulling her waist to his as they swayed to the music.
Harry caught Y/n’s eye as he caught her after a spin, a grin breaking through his character that made her heart flutter. The song slowed to it’s end and the couple for the night paused, the taller figure dipping y/n and freezing, their faces inches apart. Y/n felt her breath hitch in her chest, heart pounding at the intimate position they had paused in.
Her eyes met Harry’s again, the latter panting slightly, his pupil dilated and face flushed red, and dear god it turned Y/n on. Biting her tongue to hold back what would have been a rather humiliating moan, she rested her weight into Harry’s arms, allowing herself a second to catch her breath. As the next song began, Harry shook himself out of whatever state he was in and pulled y/n back up against him, resuming the dance like nothing had happened. Y/n, still flustered, tried to distract herself by shooting a glance towards their target, who had moved from lingering by the side entrance to scanning the crowd from a nearby refreshment table.  As the song reached a peak Harry spun y/n around again, but this time around her heel caught on the seam of her dress and she stumbled, accidentally turning away from her partner. Quickly righting herself, Y/n returned to her previous stance, but not before making brief yet intense eye contact with the man they were watching.  “Shit... Merlin do you have eyes on the target? I might have just fucked us over” Y/n’s voice came out in a hoarse whisper, eyes blown wide with horror at the prospect of ruining Harry’s first real taste of action since the Golden Circle incident.
“Hang on, hang on, don’t abort mission yet” Merlin muttered through her earpiece, y/n hearing the clacking of keys as the older agent fussed with the security cameras
“Fuckin hell, Galahad, Y/n, he’s coming your way. Hold your position, we don’t blow your cover unless we’re 100% sure he knows who you are. Keep dancing, but don’t let him see your face” 
Merlin’s voice cut across the earpiece again, and by the way y/n felt Harry's shoulders tense she knew he heard the message too.
“Shit, what do we do?” she hissed back, watching her partner risk a glance to the left and finding the target moving smoothly through the crowd, eyes set on the couple.
“Keep dancing, stay inconspicuous for as long as possible, if we’re lucky he’ll just pass on by. Now i’ll say it again, don’t let him see your bloody faces.” Merlin’s voice was low, and Y/n couldn’t stop the nervous feeling they caused from setting in as she watched the man grow nearer out of the corner of her eye.
“Merlin i don’t know what you expect us to do here if it’s so imperative we don’t move from this spot, we can’t just-”
Y/n tuned out Harry’s urgent whispers as a solution came to mind, eyes widening at the ridiculousness her own mind had come up with, but not seeing a better solution she shushed him, placing a finger over his lips.
Harry looked confused but went along with it, cocking an eyebrow in silent questioning and giving her shoulder a soft squeeze as the man drew closer, nearly close enough to get a good look at the pair, and y/n knew she had to make her move.  With a quick whisper of “forgive me for this Harry”, Y/n brought her hands up to cup her friend’s face and pulled him into a kiss. Harry froze momentarily, his jaw tensing in shock before he followed her lead and returned the kiss, their lips moving against each others perfectly in sync and y/n couldn’t keep herself from sighing into the kiss, unconsciously pressing her body closer to his. 
Harry deepened the kiss, his hands moving to thread through her hair and a vague thought reminded Y/n he was just helping to conceal her face, but it was shoved quickly to the back of her mind with a particularly passionate movement from Harry which she met enthusiastically. Her hands inched upwards to tug at his perfectly styled hair, which earned Y/n a low moan against her lips, and she pressed closer again, unconsciously slipping her leg between Harry’s. She felt his cock twitch against her thigh and all thoughts of what they were there to do flew out the window, one hand clasping at the collar of his tuxedo’s jacket and the other cupping his cheek, pulling his face down to her own.
Feeling bold, Y/n made a move to nip at Harry’s lower lip but before she had the chance, they were interrupted by a more than amused Eggsy clearing his throat beside her.  The pair flinched in surprise and pulled quickly out of the heated embrace, leaving Y/n wiping speared lipstick from her face and fixing disheveled hair, Harry somewhat discretely adjusting his clothing to hide the now quite sizable bulge in his trousers with a deep blush across his cheeks and Eggsy watching from the side, eyes tearing up from the effort of holding in his laughter.
“Merlin says good thinkin’, Y/n. The two’ve you were a bit busy to notice but Tequila got the guy, he went down nice n’ quiet, we’re supposed to get to the car as soon as possible” Eggsy had a shit eating grin plastered across his face as he spoke, which only got wider when Y/n gave Harry an awkward smile, which he returned briefly before shoving his hands in his pockets and staring down at his shoes.
Snickering, Eggsy escorted the pair through the crowded room and through a series of side doors, which after a seemingly unnecessary number of hallways led to a back exit where the towncar that had brought them to the gala was waiting. Dreading what was sure to be an uncomfortable conversation with Harry, y/n winced at the thought of how inappropriate her actions towards her friend were, and she moved to open the passenger side door but was stopped by Eggsy once again, who flung open the door and threw himself in next to Merlin, who quite to her displeasure shared Eggsy’s smirk. 
Y/n’s eyes locked with his, silently pleading to switch seats but her weak attempt proved to be in vain as Eggsy winked and pointed over his shoulder to the back of the car, where Harry was already seated.  Y/n glared at Merlin but didn’t argue, and took a deep breath before sliding into the car, which to her luck was no longer so cramped due to the third agent having stayed behind with the target. The space was still smaller than she would have wished, but the cover of darkness provided a touch of comfort that y/n was endlessly grateful for. 
Shadows crossed across her legs as the car rolled into gear, Merlin driving out of the alley and beginning the long journey back to the Kingsman headquarters. Y/n sighed, leaning her head against the window and closing her eyes, hoping the cold glass against her skin would help to drown out her racing thoughts.
Much to her dismay, however, they had been traveling for less than ten minutes when Eggsy turned around, leaning over his chair with the same wicked smile stretched across his face as he had worn before.
“So, you two had some fun t’night, didntcha?” Merlin let out a snort of laughter from beside him, Eggsy nodding his head suggestively between the pair in the backseat. Too tired to come up with a snarky reply, y/n simply rolled her eyes at Eggsy, and went back to working up the nerve to say something to the uncharacteristically silent figure seated beside her.
The realization that Harry was rarely this quiet around y/n outweighed her fear of confrontation, concern for her friend pulling her focus from Eggsy to the older man, and she turned to face him.  Harry was sitting stiffly, hands clasped in his lap and head straight forward, but he must have been watching y/n out of the corner of his eye, as he looked to the side to meet her eyes when she turned from her position by the window to look up at him. 
In that moment, the car was silent aside from the low rumble of the engine, the tension between the two growing from tolerable to an absolute peak, hanging thickly in the air between their bodies.  It was thick enough, apparently for Eggsy to pick up on it, and with a chuckle about “giving you two some privacy”, he pressed a button beside his seat that caused a black divider to come up behind him, separating the front from the back of the car and leaving Y/n and Harry in silence.
Both Harry and Y/n stayed frozen in place, faces turned to each other and her eyes locked on his. Hesitantly, y/n placed a hand on Harry’s knee, a motion that years of friendship had taught him meant she had a lot to say, but didn’t yet know how to say it, and Harry nodded, the silent exchange sharing more than words would be able to.
“...I... I’m sorry, Harry, i shouldn’t have...” Y/n’s voice was low, barely above a whisper as she spoke, trailing off as the words caught in her throat. 
"No, y/n, it was my mistake, i just...” Harry's voice faltered as well, fingers coming up to fuss nervously with the strap of his eyepatch, a habit y/n had noticed Harry picked up when he felt flustered.
Neither of them knew what had happened; one moment they were sitting in silence, y/n’s hand on his knee and tension high, and the next moment y/n found herself being pulled into Harry’s lap, her hands once again tugging at his hair as they met again in a heated kiss.  Her dress had hiked up to her hips at this point, allowing Y/n to straddle her lover properly, and this time she didn’t hesitate to grind down against him, Harry’s hands coming to grip her smooth hips as she rubbed her barely covered sex along the bulge in his trousers, both letting out groans of pleasure at the friction.
Harry’s fingers trailed down y/n’s body as they made out like horny teenagers in the backseat, moving from her hair down to cup her covered breast, and down further to trace along the slick fabric of her panties. Y/n whimpered at the touch and moved to return the favor, her own hand coming to palm at his cock through his pants, at which Harry gasped and yanked her down onto his lap once again, hips thrusting up to grind against y/n’s cunt.
She moaned against his mouth once again, pulling away for just long enough to strip off Harry’s coat and unbutton his shirt before returning to her position on his lap. The two were so caught up in the moment that they didn’t notice the car pulling up to the curb and stopping, however they did take notice to the door flying open and the flash of a camera, followed by Eggsy’s delighted voice and a deep laugh from Merlin.  Embarrassed, y/n quickly tugged her dress back into place and slid out of the car, holding out a hand for Harry to take as he climbed out, looking as red faced as y/n felt.
“Go on, buggers, we took you to Galahad’s place. I’ll find out who won the bet tomorrow, go have some fuckin’ fun.” Eggsy laughed at their dumbfounded expressions at his words, but chose not to respond, instead returning to his seat beside Merlin who drove off a few seconds later, leaving two very sexually frustrated agents on the sidewalk. 
“Well then... Wanna take this inside?”
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daughterofluthien · 3 years
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“decisions were respected” Sorry but didn’t Scott violently throw Isaac against a wall more than once just because Isaac liked his ex girlfriend in canon? That’s the literal opposite of healthy...
Hey, anon!
This is in reference to this post about Scallison for the shipping meme, where I said that one of my favorite things about Scallison is that the show lets them have a healthy breakup, and even date other people while still remaining friends. The scenes you are referring to are a pair of scenes in 3x13 Anchors.
So lets’s take a look.
(under a cut bc it turns out that when you try to be comprehensive, things get v long v quickly 😅)
The Scenes
I’m actually gonna copy/paste the dialogue of both scenes (along with minimal action/inflection notation for context) so that we can really make sure we know what we’re talking about here, so bear with me:
The first of these scenes occurs as Scott and Isaac are getting ready to head to school in the morning. After some initial ‘hey, what’re you doing, are you heading to school’ dialogue—during which both boys seem a bit awkward—we get the following:
ISAAC: [anxiously] Can I ask you a question? SCOTT: Okay... ISAAC: Are you angry with me? SCOTT: No! ISAAC: Are you sure? SCOTT: ...No. ISAAC: [awkwardly] What's that mean? SCOTT: I guess I'm not really sure how I'm feeling... ISAAC: [nodding] Okay. ...Do you hate me? SCOTT: [sighing] No, of course not. ISAAC: Do you want to hit me? SCOTT: [taken aback] No. ISAAC: I think you should hit me. SCOTT: I don't want to hit you. ISAAC: Are you sure? SCOTT: Why would I want to hit you? You didn't do anything, did you? ISAAC: [stammering] No. I mean, um... What do you mean? SCOTT: I mean, like, you didn't kiss her or anything, right? ISAAC: No! Absolutely not. No. SCOTT: ...Did you want to? ISAAC: Oh, yeah. Totally. [scene cuts to hallway outside the room. Isaac flies through the doorway and hits the wall] MELISSA: Hey! You two teenage boys? Don't test my entirely un-supernatural level of patience! ISAAC: ...Feel better?
The scene then ends, and we cut to subsequent scenes of Stiles and then Allison also getting ready for school.
The second scene is much shorter and happens later in the episode, after Isaac saves Lydia from an arrow that Allison fired while hallucinating. He and Scott are in Scott’s room again, and he’s telling him about the incident:
SCOTT: Right at her head? ISAAC: Almost right through it. And she keeps saying the same thing-- that she keeps seeing her aunt. Whatever's happening to you guys is getting worse. If I hadn't been there, then Lydia would be dead. SCOTT: ...What were you doing there? ISAAC: Uh... [scene cuts to hallway outside the room. Isaac flies through the doorway and hits the wall] MELISSA: [groaning] Oh, you guys, come on! This house does not have a supernatural ability to heal! So, stop it!
But of course just the text of the scene isn’t enough to accurately convey everything in even a tiny portion of a larger narrative, because nothing happens in a vacuum. With that in mind, let’s look at...
The Context 
The first of these scenes occurs immediately after the opening credits, and is the first time we see either Scott or Isaac this season. (Assuming you consider 3B a separate season, of course, which is a whole ‘nother can of worms. This tv show we all choose to enjoy sure is Something.)
Often, the opening of a season is used to reintroduce the audience to the main characters—letting us know where their characters arcs are starting, and what they’ll be struggling with this season. Teen Wolf did this previously (and did it well, imo) in 3x01 Tattoo. Act 2 of that episode begins with a series of four scenes showing our main characters getting ready for school in the morning, highlighting where everyone currently is, and setting up where their arcs are going to go.
Scene order taken by itself would seem to indicate that they were trying to do something similar in this episode. It starts off with the hook of Stiles’ extended nightmare sequence. He can’t tell dreams apart from reality anymore, and wakes up screaming. Cut to black, cue opening credit sequence.
Immediately after the first ad break, we get a sequence of three scenes. The first is the longer of the two Scott and Isaac scenes (which, as previously mentioned, occurs as they’re getting ready to head out to school). The second is of Stiles. He’s packing for school, and the audience learns that he’s been struggling to read when he’s awake as well. Finally, we see Allison leaving her and her dad’s apartment. She seems like she’s doing fine, if a little over-focused. But then she gets into the elevator, and has an extended hallucination/flashback of Kate.
We learn soon after this that all three of them (Scott, Stiles, and Allison) are suffering from the aftereffects of their sacrifice in the previous season. According to the explanations we get both from Kira and, later, from Deaton, they’re slipping into bardo, or the space between life and death, and there’s a door open in their minds. 
Okay, problem established.
It stands to reason, then, that all three of those opening scenes are supposed to serve to set up this problem. We’re shown, in three successive scenes, that all three of our sacrificees are, as the kids say, Not Doing So Hot.
(yes I know the kids don’t say that, let me be an increasingly out-of-touch millennial in peace)
This is all well and good, and honestly makes sense! Under this paradigm, the Scott and Isaac scene should be highlighting that Scott is Losing Control. Bardo is affecting him, and it’s causing him to be more aggressive. Giving in to violence in a way that he generally holds himself back from. Heck, the scene even starts with Scott flexing his fingers, and we (and Scott) see the shadow of a clawed hand against the door.
In the context of the narrative, it makes sense.
Except.
eXCEPT—
The Framing
The thing about the medium of television is that, when we’re talking about a scene, we can’t just look at the narrative structure. We also have to look at the scene itself: how it’s shot and directed, how it’s edited, even what music is paired with the scenes.
In the Stiles and Allison sequences, the scenes are very clearly shot for tension and horror. Long lingering shots on the things that Just Aren’t Right. Music that heightens the tension. Stiles gets some nice lil scare chords over the shot of the book that he can’t read, and there’s a very quiet droning in the background of the Allison nightmare sequence that slowly grows into some classic horror soundtrack music.
Okay. So far that tracks with the narrative thesis.
Now let’s take look at the Scott and Isaac scene.
We start out with some of those lingering shots I was talking about, as Scott is halted in his tracks when he notices the shadow of the clawed hand. We see his own hand is human and unshifted. There’s quiet, percussion heavy music over this portion of the scene that increases in tension at this point. Shaken, Scott closes his hand into a fist, and when he opens it, both the shadow and his own hand are smooth and human. The tense music fades out to silence, and he breathes a sigh of relief.
Scott opens the door to reveal Isaac, which startles him. There’s a short musical sting to underline this moment, and then the background music cuts out completely, leaving us (and them) in the awkwardness of this moment. 
And OH BOY. IS IT AWKWARD. 😬
You can kinda see the Awkwardness Inherent in the System in the dialogue that I pasted up at the top—it’s a lot of back-and-forth, short statements, trailing off... And both Posey and Sharman are playing up the awkwardness as well. Neither boy looks like they really want to be there, and that includes Isaac, who initiated this entire conversation.
But here’s the thing.
The thing that really frustrates me about this scene.
It’s not the sort of awkwardness that exists to increase the tension. The sort that builds and builds until it reaches a fever pitch and you know something just has to give. You know, the sort of tension that you would want to build if you were showing how the protagonist of your show is no longer fully in control, and is on a knife’s edge of lashing out at his friend and beta.
Instead, it’s played for comedy.
And once again, a lot of this is down to the music.
Before the dialogue that I quoted at the top even begins, the music starts back up, and this time the tense percussion has been replaced by light, pizzicato strings. (That may not be the exact right term, fyi, I only really know enough about music theory to be dangerous.) But you know, the playful, plucked strings that often accompanies comedic or otherwise not-serious scenes.
Background music tells the viewer how they’re supposed to feel about the events in a particular scene, and the music here is saying that we’re not supposed to find this whole confrontation that dramatic. In fact, we’re supposed to find it funny.
But it’s not just the music that that frames this scene as comedic. It’s also the fact that we don’t actually see Scott shoving Isaac. Instead, the scene cuts to the hallway, and all we see is Isaac flying through the doorway.
Now, obviously I don’t have a direct line to the director and editors’ minds here. But I would bet money that those particular shots were chosen 1). because it’s so much easier to do a wire pull stunt when you don’t have to show what it’s in reaction to, and 2). because it’s kinda difficult to show your main character directly doing a violence and make it funny.
But show someone yeeted into frame, and that’s funny. Right?
(Spoiler alert: not in this context, it isn’t)
Now, I know I’ve been focusing on the first scene a lot—partially because it’s longer and partially because it’s really the only reason that the second scene exists—but I do want to take a look at the second scene really quickly as well. It’s much shorter and generally adopts a more serious tone than the first one, mostly due to fact that we’re smack dab in the middle of the action at this point. The weird visions that the sacrificees have been having all episode have started endangering lives, and they can’t just wait for it to resolve on its own.
But then the focused, intent exposition is broken by Scott’s question of “why were you there.” Then smash cut to a near identical shot of the hallway,and Isaac yeeting into frame.
The thing is, this scene is entirely dependent on the previous one. It only “works”—and I use this term loosely—as a call back to the scene at the beginning of the ep. Heck, both even have the stinger of a frustrated Melissa at the end of both scenes, frustrated at all the boys-will-be-boys roughhousing going on in her house.
Much like the first scene, this one is also set up and framed for Comedy.
Which is um. A Choice. 
But What Does It All Mean
What frustrates me about these scenes, at the end of the day, is that the narrative intention and the directing/editing seem to be fundamentally at odds.
On the one hand, it makes narrative sense to say that the purpose of the scenes is to show that Scott is losing control. That he’s being affected by bardo and the open door in his mind, and it’s putting the people close to him in danger. But then on the other, the way the scenes are actually used are as comic relief. As a way to release tension between very tense, dramatic scenes. 
I don’t think it works, as I don’t personally find it funny at all. But that really does seem to be the intention.
Once again, absolutely wILD choices were made on the part of tptb, and I really wish anyone had thought for two seconds about the implications of all of this, but nO
Ahem.
So now (literally 2K words later I’m so sorry 😅) what does this tell us about the characters? Certainly no one here is arguing that shoving someone is a good or defensible choice, whether it’s due to forces outside the character’s control or not. But even taking the influence of bardo in mind, is it even in character for Scott in the first place?
Because canon can also be written inconsistently/out of character, especially when we’re talking about a long-running show like tw.
One’s an Incident, Two is Coincidence...
Well, we all know the end of that saying.
So let’s end by looking at a few patterns.
As I mentioned at the beginning of this, once again, eXCEEDINGLY long post, this is reference to a post I made about scallison. I said the following in that post:
And I also really like that they [Scott and Allison] didn’t get back together. That they were allowed to be friends. That even though sometimes it hurt to watch someone you love loved love become romantically close to another person, decisions were respected, and no friendships were broken over it.
The first pattern we need to look at, then, is this:
What’s Scott’s pattern of behavior toward Allison and Isaac’s relationship?
And does Scott’s behavior toward Isaac in these two scenes match the pattern, or is it an outlier?
3x11 Alpha Pact: Sacrifice Prep The revelation that Allison and Isaac have grown close enough for him to act as emotional tether for her is very visibly a blow to Scott. He looks like the rug has been pulled out from under him, but he doesn’t look angry or upset, just.... sad. In fact, it looks like he’s swallowing back tears. But he nods towards the two of them and just says, “It’s okay.”
3x12 Lunar Ellipse: “I look for my friends” This is the epilogue of the season. Scott walks into the hallway at all of his friends in turn. Satisfied. Happy. First at Lydia and Aiden, then at Danny and Ethan. Then he turns and watches as Isaac and Allison walk down the stairs, and they’re laughing, and so obviously happy, and Scott’s small smile grows. He isn’t jealous here—he’s happy for them. 
3x14 Illuminated: Mutual Recognition Scott and Allison are both at Danny’s halloween party, but they’re not here together. He sees her from across a crowded room, just like he did at the winter formal, so many months ago. But so much has happened, and they’re different people now. Allison’s with Isaac, and he’s starting to having feelings for Kira, but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt, and that he doesn’t miss the relationship he and Allison had. For a moment, his fingers slip away from Kira’s, and he and Allison share a sad smile. 
Believe it or not, these are actually the only other examples I could find of Scott reacting to Isaac and Allison’s relationship. And uniformly across them, he’s sad, yes—after all, he loved her, and that relationship is very definitively over now. But he never seems jealous, and he isn’t angry.
So, if the Scott and Isaac scenes in Anchors don’t fit the pattern of Scott’s behavior towards the new couple, what pattern do they fit?
“Hit me.”
The teen wolf writers have a... really upsetting habit, honestly, of “resolving” interpersonal conflict between two characters by having the “wronged” party hit the other. Afterwards, the tension is almost completely broken between them, as if letting the person act aggressively in a way consensual to both parties has somehow solved the problem.
2x11 Battlefield: Derek and Peter After Peter comes back from the dead, he confronts the now pack-less Derek and offers to help him. Derek, likely remembering that Peter killed Laura and was responsible for most of the events of S1, attacks him instead. After taking a beating, Peter says the following:
PETER: Okay, go ahead! Come on, do it! Hit me. Hit me. I can see that it's cathartic for you! You're letting go of all the anger, self-loathing, and hatred that comes with total and complete failure. I may be the one taking the beating, Derek, but you've already been beaten. So, go ahead. Hit me if that will make you feel better. After all, I did say that I wanted to help.
3x13 Anchors: Scott and Isaac We’ve already discussed this scene in uh. Detail. So I don’t think we need to go into the specifics again. But just a reminder that this dialogue exists:
ISAAC: Do you want to hit me? SCOTT: No. ISAAC: I think you should hit me.
5x15 Amplification: Scott and Liam During the previous supermoon, Liam—swayed by grief, the full moon, and Theo’s manipulations—tried to kill Scott and take his power. They’ve since rediscovered an equilibrium in their relationship, and Liam’s back in Scott’s pack, but they’re both still dealing with the implications of that event. In this episode, they’re attempting to break Lydia out of Eichen, but they’re not as strong as they should be, due to the mountain ash laced through the building, and are having difficulty breaking down a door. Then, the following exchange occurs:
LIAM: Hit me. SCOTT: What? LIAM: Hit me! I'll get angry, then I'll get stronger. STILES: Hit him. Hit him! LIAM: I tried to take your powers. I tried to kill you. Hit me! STILES: He also left you for dead. LIAM: I wanted you dead!
6x16 Triggers: Liam and Theo No one actually directly says “hit me” in  this one, due to the circumstances, but the sentiment’s there. In this sequence, Liam and Theo are trying to convince Gerard and the hunters that the whole pack is hiding out in the zoo, so Theo goads Liam into hitting him, in order to stage a very audible fight.
THEO: Okay... Then they have to believe us.[shouts] Isn't that right? LIAM: [whispers] Why are you yelling? THEO: [shouts] You got a problem? Oh, that's right, you always have a problem! LIAM: [whispers] What the hell are you doing? THEO: [shouts] Shut up! [punches Liam] Yeah, you see that, Scott? Your little Beta can't even take a punch. And what do you think, Malia?
While there’s a variety of primary textual reasons here, all of them deal with personal issues between the pair, and all of them involve some level of catharsis for the person doing the punching. Taken all together, it’s honestly a pretty troubling pattern, especially given the inclusion of an actual canonical abuse victim initiating and receiving the violence.
TL;DR
This is a writer issue, not a character issue. The serious narrative context conflicts with the comedic framing in a way that is honestly baffling to me, and it doesn’t fit the established pattern of Scott’s character and actions. Moreover, it’s an example of the writers’ apparent belief that interpersonal conflict can and should be solved through consensual violence.
The pattern we do see, is that the Scott is saddened by the knowledge that Allison has moved on, but he’s glad that she and Isaac are happy. Similarly, Allison is saddened that Scott is moving on as well, because she does still care for him deeply. Despite their conflicted feelings, neither tries to disrupt the other’s new relationship.
On other shows, that would be a season-long, drama-filled plotline. Here, nothing.
And I legitimately love that so much.
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mavspeed · 3 years
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First Line Meme
Rules: List the first lines of your last 20 stories (if you have less than 20, just list them all). See if there are any patterns. Choose your favorite opening line, then tag 10 of your favorite authors!
Hey @applesfallingfromblondehair, thanks for the tag love!! likewise i dont usually do this but this feels interesting so lets see if my ass has improved over the last few stories lmfkjgjk
also this will prob be a mix of xmcu fic + kingsman fic bc i think i have a more or less equal number of fics written for both
1.
The first time Charles meets Lucifer Morningstar, actual devil from hell, ruler of the underworld, fallen son of the lord above and god knows what else, it had been after Erik had been sentenced to life imprisonment in the highest security cell in the Pentagon. 
- this is from a professor and a devil walk into a bar, which is kinda a crossover rarepair fic that rose out of me and mutuals on twitter discussing tom ellis and james mcavoy being roommates and kinda... devolved from there. i am proud of this one lmfnjgkj
2.
“Are you okay, Professor?” Hank asks quietly.
Charles blinks. He supposes it’s a valid question. He’s been in a bit of a funk the past few days- scratch that actually, the past few years. He’s just lost so much- his father, and then his mother’s love, and then Raven and Erik and Sean and countless others. Building a school, gaining students he loved to teach and nurture hadn’t helped him in the slightest, and he’s as lost as he ever was, wandering the halls of a drafty mansion alone, feeling like he’s been stranded at sea even whilst surrounded by people.
- from in the belly of the beast, which again came out of me wondering what would have happened if fox had gone w their original plan and charles had been that last horseman instead of erik. this story will prob gain a sequel... sometime in the near future when im not too bogged down by current wips
3. 
The Xavier family hall of the deceased- because of course they’re weird enough to have a cemetery- is full of rows upon rows of holograms. Charles is four and gets bored of his father crying over his mother’s hologram, so he toddles over to the other rows. Unfamiliar names, all of them- Charles is young, and he doesn’t understand death. He doesn’t even know who his mother is, who’d died at childbirth and left him with a father still at a loss when it came to bringing up a kid.
- from tequila on a spaceship, the sequel to a fic that still has some people angry at me i think. this fic never did gain as much traction as the first one but im still proud of it esp since it discusses certain themes of reincarnation that ive always wanted to see explored for myself in reincarnation aus (and i only ever saw it in danveresque’s reincarnation au)
4.
There are cork boards covering every inch of the wall. Red strings, photographs, conspiracy threads, everything. Raven takes it in, swallowing, noticing the picture in the middle.
It’s one of Charles, when he’d been in university. His final year- he'd just been done presenting his year- end project, his fringe a tumbled mess and a bright smile on his lips. Erik had taken the picture, Charles scurrying to his side once he’d been done and demanding to look at the image, his tongue poking out the corner of his mouth. He looks like how Raven had always imagined him to be.
“He wouldn’t want this,” she finally says, turning to look at Erik.
- from tequila on a beach, the first fic to the fic above. this fic is v special to me because i actually wrote this on a spiral after having a very tough visit with one of my parents in the hospital after a surgery for organ removal to prevent the onset of cancer. its simpler than my other fics yet i think more powerful because of what happens. also i think the first time i killed charles off lol (spoiler alert). also idk if ppl were aware of this but this is called tequila on a beach precisely bc charles and erik were tipsy from tequila at a frat party and then went to a beach. its the way they first met (and will continue to meet for all their next lives)
5. 
Erik doesn’t know how it all started. Maybe it was when his insane sergeant had started rambling about imaginary cities, treasures of gold and cursed incantations. Maybe it was when trickles of rumours had started pouring down about the higher ups wanting to investigate unfound territory, disregard the Egyptian government’s feelings on the matter, and put a previously unfound myth on the map for all the world to see. Or maybe, Erik thinks, it was when archaeologist Klaus Schmidt put a bullet through his mother’s head and he ended up going to America armed with dual citizenship and the sole intent of wanting to drive a coin directly between Schmidt’s eyes, joining a division of the American military focused solely on guarding archaeological digs- more importantly, in Egypt, where Schmidt’s interest had shifted.
- from courting the end of the world, another one i’m just insanely proud of! this is the first time i’ve ever attempted a multichapter movie au and it actually managed to work pretty well, i at least haven’t run out of inspiration for it yet lmfjgjg. also erik as himbo rick connell... very rent free in my head
6. 
The day after they murder Shaw and leave his house of horrors, Erik crosses the Canadian border with Charles across his back. Charles had started getting tired while they’d been walking, stumbling and nearly tripping until Erik had forced him to get on his back, ignoring Charles’ protests.
The blood’s seeping out steadily from Charles’ nose, staining his shirt and soaking it through. It’s been leaking on and off, and the effects are already obvious in the dark circles beneath Charles’ eyes. Any more, and Erik knows they’ll have to find him a doctor. He hopes the nearest town in Canada has one that would be willing to treat them.
- from a world built for two. i actually dk where the inspiration for this came from, i think i was once again on a depressive spiral and wanted to break my comfort characters into pieces and put them together again. this also deals with codependency and unhealthy coping mechanisms as a result of trauma which i showed as sweet in the fic but i would def not recommend in real life. pls if u relate to either charles or erik in this go see a therapist
7. 
The call comes in the afternoon, an hour before Charles is supposed to teach his Intro to Genetics class. Frowning, Charles abandons the game of Candy Crush he’d admittedly been playing rather badly and picks it up. “Charles sp-”
“We need you, Prof,” Kitty says desperately into the phone. “He’s been in a temper all morning, and then Alex’s reports missed out a whole subsection, so he’s fired the entire marketing team! Please, Professor, you have to come immediately!”
- from and we can be pirates. i wrote this in like 4 seconds for my friend who wanted professor charles and ceo erik and actually did not expect this to gain the attention it did... its always the fics u write in like 4 seconds lmfjggj. a sequel for this Is coming too probably at some point in the very far future
8. 
Charles Xavier can admit as he sits across from Essex, hands cuffed to the desk, that in hindsight, this had perhaps not been one of his better ideas.
He refuses to admit it as he controls Erik’s mind, preventing him from lashing out and making him close his eyes to the nightmare unfolding in front of him. He refuses to admit it as he gets shoved into the back of a black pickup truck, and the butt of a gun is smashed across his forehead hard enough to knock him out cold for a few hours. He refuses to admit it when he wakes up what appears to be hours later in a cold interrogation room, hands cuffed to the table in front of him, with a suppression collar rendering his mind dark and almost achingly silent.
- from from the land of gods (bring me home). i’ve been struggling w this fic a lot (it didnt come as easily to me as the first one did) but its getting there. also i put charles through hell in this rip sorry mister xavier
9.
In the aftermath, both of them stand at the border of the mansion. The air feels frigid, slicing into Raven’s lungs like a thousand paper cuts. “Charles, please,” she begs, heart in her throat and voice hoarse. “He wouldn’t want you to be like this. He wouldn’t want you to do this. It’s not too late, you can come back.”
Charles gazes back, a brick wall. He hasn’t even cleaned up, still in that damnable yellow and blue suit with blood drying in the corners of his mouth, the bridge of his nose. There’s nothing in his eyes- blank, almost see through. He looks as if he’s a mere shade, a ghost lounging about where he once was. Raven knows better.
“I will raze the world to the ground,” he finally says, his voice free of any inflection, “and when I’m done, no one will be left standing. Not you, and certainly not me.”
- from where all the poets went to die, a dark fic based on what would have happened if moira had killed erik with the bullets. its the first time ive written dark charles and it was v fun if im being honest
10. 
Charles is a light sleeper. It’s a trait that stays with him- all the way from his father and the tests to taking care of his mother to Cain Marko and his fists to Cuba and then now, the dust of Washington settling over him and making the waking world lie an inch beyond his eyelids. It therefore stands to reason that the second the windowsill creaks he’s up in a shot, hoisting himself up and lashing out with his telepathy instantly.
That’s not a trait that had stayed with him. That’s a newly formed trait, bitter and bold, carved into existence by Cuba by his students disappearing one by one in Vietnam by the letters that announce Sean’s death in black unfriendly print by-
The tendrils of his telepathy forged cold and distant meet a barrier and recoil, stunned. He focuses his eyes and then widens them, staring at Erik who stares back, hidden beneath that infernal muddied magenta helmet of his. They stare at each other for a moment before Erik clears his throat.
- from in the valley of kings (you will come home). my first ever cherik fic! im actually also proud of this one even if i ended it horribly and half my mutuals refuse to read it bc of how it ended LMFJGJGJ. i cant believe this was supposed to be a funny and cute kid fic and then i turned it into an angst ridden mess. also leo is actually an oc whose adult version is fancasted as charlie rowe by me and another mutual on twitter and im v proud that readers are willing to die for the baby
11. 
Mike has to google it, finding a crafts shop nestled into the corner of the street right smack in the middle of Louisiana, past a long and winding dirt road and the crumbling farmhouses relics of a time long past. The air is hot, humid, sticking to the back of his neck like an unwieldy parasite as he pushes the door of the shop open to the sound of the bell tinkling above.
He finds the origami paper quickly enough and has a momentary breakdown about what Bill’s favourite colour even is- he had never thought to ask him. Twenty seven years of following every single footstep of his like a dedicated, most definitely creepy stalker, three months of more than a few states traversed with Bill’s laughter now echoing in his ears like a shadow that trails after him, and this is what stumps him. It takes ten minutes, but he finally settles on light green.
- my first and last entry into the IT fandom bc i love these two but to be very fair there isn’t much content out there for him (and twitter content actually intimidates me lmfjgjjg) a thousand paper cranes never got much traction either but i suspect its bc i was horrible at promoting it. also i very much love this fic even if it never did that well bc ive always wanted to write a fic like this after watching the movie in cinemas in 2019
12.
ok nsfw i guess 
Mornings start like this- Eggsy snuffling into David’s neck, attempting to work his way back up to wakefulness as David sleeps the sleep of the dead, the streams of morning sunlight gradually lightening up the room. It’s a while before he gets the energy to sit up, pushing an eager V off the bed- V for Vendetta, a kitten named after one of David’s favourite movies that they’d adopted about a month after moving in together- before stumbling to the loo. He’s already in the shower when David comes in, naked as the day he’s born with his arms entwining themselves around Eggsy’s waist as he murmurs a sleep-soft, “Good morning, love,” as he presses a kiss into the two-days-old hickey on Eggsy’s shoulder. His breath smells of toothpaste, the minty fresh kind he insists on buying from Target no matter how much Eggsy insists that the other brand is much better. Without fail, Eggsy always has a split second thought of thinking that he must truly be in heaven because no way can this be his reality, every single day, before sinking to his knees and allowing David’s cock to hit the back of his throat.
- from that’s the kind of love i’ve been dreaming of. i genuinely wish i had an opinion for this but i don’t remember writing this its been way too long
13. 
The first time Eggsy sees her is in Trafalgar Square.
Trafalgar Square is uncomfortably packed on any normal day, but on New Year’s it is quite the hothouse. Sweating armpits and hot bodies plastered against each other, the twinkling lights overhead providing a flash of blue and green and yellow and red, screaming children and giggling teenagers shoving their way through- it’s a recipe for disaster. Eggsy doesn’t know how he ends up there. It happens sometimes- one second he blinks, sequestered in the comfort of his living room, and the next he’s somewhere else, as if he’s been teleported. “Life goes past you,” Tilde had said once, “and you don’t even notice.” Tilde would be right.
- this is a roxy and eggsy friendship centric fic that i abandoned bc i lost my ardor for this world about the same time i got into xmen lmfjgjg. all the king’s horses also had some great fancasts in it with dev patel fancasted too... rip ig
14. 
once again, nsfw
Eggsy, truth be told, doesn’t actually like having sex in bathrooms. First of all, bathrooms generally have an unsanitary air about them. Besides that, the granite of the sinks always feel cold against his hips, there is the ever present fear of being walked in on and unlike what people might say, he actually really isn’t that much of an exhibitionist- and truth be told, he’s never liked the look of himself in the mirror mid coitus.
For David Budd, however, he suspects he might be up for anything.
- from do you ever dream of me. im actually proud of this fic and this series, i never usually write straight up porn or friends w benefits and i think it worked well in here. once again didnt get much traction but that was very of the norm for my kingsman fics lmfjgj
15.
It is on his fifth meeting with the therapist on site that she brings the issue up. The elephant in the room- or the bomb , David thinks morbidly. If asked, he can’t remember specifics about that day now. All he remembers is this- the burn of Julia’s picture in his wallet against his thigh, the Botticelli painting on the far wall and Miss Paulson’s face, severe and unsmiling.
“When you couldn’t reach Julia,” she says, after he finishes describing the feeling of running to Julia, the panic searing his chest as he’d prayed for his legs to work faster so he could do something, anything to reach her hand. “How did that make you feel?”
- from your haunted social scene. i genuinely... do not remember anything about this either helpfkjgjg,,, this has 55 comments tho which. Nice
16.
David brings her home on- in a move far too cliche for it to be reality- a stormy night. It’s in fact storming so hard the windowpanes shudder like leaves in the wind, droplets crashing against the glass in a cacophony so loud Eggsy more than once considers turning the radio all the way up to drown it out. He’d gone scrounging for David’s sweatshirts instead of his own halfway through, wincing intermittently at the flashes of thunder. At a particularly loud one JB had jumped up, squeaked in a very undoglike manner and skidded across the floor to cower beneath the sofa, only coming out when coaxed by Eggsy to do so. Officer Oatmeal had watched the proceedings from her regal place by the armchair, dozy eyed and blinking heavily.
- from a cat named lavender. from what i remember this was also my first try at bringing up trans eggsy
17.
He first appears at the black prince on a cold Monday evening, eyes like Frank Sinatra and lips arresting anyone’s gaze if they weren’t careful enough. He stood out too, clad in a respectable bomber jacket and boots that clicked against the tile rhythmically and loudly, a sort of organised, measured cacophony.
“Go and serve him,” Andrew said, fat and disinterested, seated behind the counter and idly flicking through bills, less than ten percent of which he pays Eggsy. “I’m busy.”
- from trust is left in lovers after all. i never continued this which is sad bc this did get a lot of attention... it was just v hard to keep the story going
18.
It usually rains cats and dogs in London but for some reason, the rain is heavier than usual today. The droplets splatter against the windows in a constant buzzing rhythm, the sound meshing together in a melody not altogether pleasant to the ears. It’s half past five and yet the light has to be kept on because that’s how dark the sky has gotten- thunder rolls like a loud crack, abrupt and deafening, causing Daisy to jump in her seat.
“Just a thunderstorm, flower,” Eggsy says. They’re seated at the dinner table, Eggsy going over her homework while David sits opposite them, hunched over his laptop as he attempts to finish a post mission report. Eggsy is half convinced he gave up ten minutes ago- he’s got his earbuds in and he hasn’t really typed anything in a while, eyes focused on the screen. His eyebrows are scrunched up in a glare that’s too adorable for his own good- and for Eggsy’s.
- from could feel like kryptonite. a lot of my kingsman fics are actually so much happier than my cherik ones... i should prob look into that rip
19.
“When you’re done lazing around you can come in, you dozy dog,” he tells Officer Oatmeal, who butts her nose into his knee. She’s the only one not on a diet in the house, Eggsy deeming her far too healthy and skinny to need one anyway. In fact, she’s under strict instructions by Eggsy to fatten up instead.
Once the animals are done feeding- Eggsy sporting a suspicious scratch on his left forearm- they settle down to eat their scrambled eggs and toast. David’s taken a large gulp of his scalding coffee when Eggsy says, all of a sudden, “So, I have a school reunion.”
- from gonna set this dance alight. don’t remember much about this either tbh
20. (the last one FINALLY)
It isn’t a big event or explosion that makes David realise he wants to see his father’s ring sitting pretty on Eggsy’s index finger. No teary confessions in the rain like in the rom coms Eggsy loves to rent out and sniffle his way through, or a fight that makes David see sense. In the end, it’s breakfast that cinches the deal for him.
The day had started out normally enough. David wakes up at eight like clockwork, the soft downy hair at the base of Eggsy’s neck tickling his nose with his arm locked tight around his waist. He’d yawned, exhausted- mostly because they’d stayed up very late into the night making good use of the bed- before standing up and shucking his shirt off to head for the shower. Eggsy had shifted in his sleep, mumbling something unintelligible, and the sight had been too endearing to resist so he’d bent down, pressing a kiss to his forehead and smiling when Eggsy groaned out loud.
- from lover boy rules. i actually started a lot of my kingsman fics in the same way which is rather awful of me. im glad thats changed with my xmen fics lmfjgjk. also this has 15 comments???? i dont even get that much attention with my xmcu fics these days... which is arguably a more active fandom... Hello
anyway that’s the end of it needless to say i do not know 10 other authors so im just gonna tag whoever i know rn: @hellfre , @queerneto, @ikeracity, @drinkingstars, @zebraljb
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goldpilot22 · 3 years
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alright so @fancyfanstuff sent me this ask
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but while typing a reply to it I accidentally hit the send reply privately button so now I'm posting it all as a post lmao.
yeeee lys does have a buncha knives which are mostly for showing off [they also have a gun] also be of this I drew them based on a screenshot from thedisney snow white movie.. but i drew it on my laptop so the colors are all wonky [my laptop does NOT have a good quality screen Imao] as are the lines bc I've never quite got the hang of using a tablet 
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this is lys as they look during that part of the story, later they get that arm broken and have to wear the more decorative one instead [and that becomes relevant later :3] also they store their knives In the prosthetic arm. fun fact their hair is perpetually kind of badly cut because they used to be right-handed and some things are not easy to learn to do with either your nondominant hand Or a prosthetic, especially if you don't do the things very often, and cutting your own hair is one of those. plus they'd never cut their own hair before the Incident. [the incident in which they got both disowned by their family and separated from sterling, basically things went all kinds of shitty at once :P]
also yeha heron is just. the most bastard. manipulative as shit. gaslights the fuck out of sterling pretty much ever since they joined the bird cult. so instead the main antagonist is Swan! she was pretty much raised by his parents but since she wasn't actually their kid she couldn't inherit all their shit [idr what I have or haven't previously said abt the bird cult Imao but it started as just a rather underhanded way for one particular noble family to get more power, and then got a bit more shitty once Heron came to be in control of it.] so when he gets his ass kicked in she takes the opportunity to fill the power vacuum, as she'd already been helping him with things but she has Bigger Plans... 
also yess the girl lysander almost killed is indeed important! her name is Paz and she's a detective! [she is like eighteenish but that's still considered a child in this setting. and she just Is Baby.] someone wanted her dead be she'd exposed their attempt to frame someone else for murder. [also yes this is scifi-flavored-fantasy yes there are detectives. it was originally someone's attempt to bring some order to the chaos that shit is sinking into, but they generally don't get a lot Done on account of, well, stuff like that.] and, unrelated to that incident, she has been mainly working on one particular string of murders.... that’s right she is trying to find things out about none other than Shrike. she’s looking for their real identity but hasn’t found anything conclusive there, but instead she has discovered something that, for her, puts Everything about them in a different perspective...
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hyuwujin · 5 years
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brew-tiful | hjs
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pairing: reader x jisung
genre: barista!au; fluff
length: 6.9k+
summary: you weren’t the most social person on the planet hence the reason you avoided the crowded coffee shop not far from your dorm. but when you’re forced to go and get your most needed coffee, you had no idea the change your life would go through when you walked through those doors. the cause of the change? the dumb charming barista behind the coutner flashing smiles whenever he saw you.
a/n: i’m back hello!!! wooh, i’m so happy my motivation to write has returned and let’s hope it stays!! i’m hella rusty so soz if this fic suck :/ enjoy bbs!!! also dedicated to @changbear bc she’s been w a i t i n g so long for this oof
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You never walked into the campus cafe that was a convenient distance from your dorm building, mostly because of how crowded it always was. You hated crowds. Crowds meant noise. Noise meant distractions.
But looking out the large glass windows at the sight of the cafe while you stood in front of the empty vending machine, your thoughts changed.
I need a coffee to help me stay awake to write this damn essay, you thought to yourself with a frown.
Looking back at the vending machine, your eyebrows furrowed in frustration. Huffing to yourself, you turned around and left the dorms, pulling the hood of your sweatshirt over your head when you noticed the damp ground and the sound of light rain hitting against the pavement.
You passed by smiling students holding their picky coffee orders in one hand, laptop in the other with a flat expression. You pulled on the strings of your sweatshirt.
Maybe you could order a coffee without having much social interaction.
Hah, if only it was that easy.
You walked into the semi crowded coffee shop and your nose was instantly hit by the sweet smell of brewing coffee. The smell alone woke you up a bit, causing you to look up and around for the cash register. Mustering up both the courage and patience, you waited on the end of the line.
One of the baristas, you noticed, was being occupied by a small group of enthusiastic girls twirling their hair and laughing at almost everything he said, causing you to scoff to yourself. Maybe this is why the line isn’t moving, you noted.
Then you noticed another barista rush up to the cash register, nudging the social barista with a pointed expression, before asking the next person in line for their order.
The few single people in front of you knew their somewhat complex order like the back of their hand and you felt uneasy, not having a clue what to get. You could go for an iced coffee...or an espresso...but that macchiato that girl was holding on the way out looked pretty good.
You didn’t notice the barista formerly speaking to the group of girls stop to glance around the shop, until his eyes landed on you. He smiled to himself, looking at the deep-in-thought pout on your face.
“Hey, can I get you anything?” The boy behind the counter excused himself from the group of giggling girls and turned to you with a welcoming smile. The barista originally at the cash register left to take care of a customer’s order. You felt your cheeks heat at the sudden attention you were getting, both from the handsome boy and the group of now glaring girls.
“I uh…” you trailed off, gnawing on your lower lip, scanning over the chalkboard menu behind his head. You admire the neat handwriting on the wall as you scanned; it was definitely boyish but still legible. You don’t notice the barista observing your concentrated face––furrowed brows and twisted lips––with an amused smile.
“Let me guess,” the boy chuckled, wiping his hands on his apron. “You’ve never been here before?”
Averting your gaze to the girls beside you, you felt yourself shrink under their scrutiny. Quickly turning your head back at him, you shook your head. “No, does it look obvious?”
“I think I can recognize everyone who’s ever walked in,” the barista boasted, crossing his arms. “...and I don’t think I’ve ever seen you around before.”
“I don’t really go to cafes much,” you shrugged, not taking into account the fact that you were making small talk with some stranger when a few minutes ago all you wanted was a coffee.
“Oh, how come?”
Part of you wondered why the boy seemed so interested but by the way you previously observed his encounter with the now impatient girls waiting for his attention beside you, you figured he was like that with all of the customers. Must be good for tips, you presumed.
“Cafes are usually…loud. I don’t really concentrate well in them so that’s why I usually get a pre-made bottled coffee from the vending machine in my dorm.”
“And today’s different because…” the boy trailed off, waiting for you to continue, the side of his lip quirking up into a half smile.
“They were all out of my coffee,” you pouted, looking down. The barista watched your cute expression with a soft smile but immediately dropped it when you looked back up. He was not used to the way his heart was beating out of his chest.
“Ah, kinda hurts my ego that we were a last resort but I’ll take it since you’re here,” the barista smiled cutely and then you understood why the girls he was previously conversing with were giggling and beaming like idiots. This guy sure was charming.
Noticing the line forming behind you, you felt yourself flush in embarrassment. “Oh god, I’m stalling. Can I just get something strong to go please? I need all the caffeine I can get.”
Shooting you finger guns and a wink, he said, “You got it. Just wait over here.”
“How pathetic,” you heard one of the girls murmur to her friends, staring directly at you. “This girl’s just dying to get out of here.”
“Isn’t that a good thing? Wouldn’t want to stall our Jisung-ie any longer~” Another friend beside her whispered with a knowing smile.
Huffing to yourself with an eye roll, you walked around the group of girls and waited at the end of the counter near the wall.
“Alright, you didn’t exactly give me cream or sugar preference so I kind of guessed? Try it first so I’ll know if I need to fix it.” The barista came back with a steaming hot cup of coffee and held it out for you to take. It’s been a while since you hadn’t had coffee that wasn’t refrigerated and synthetic. Raising a curious brow at the boy’s eagerness for you to try the drink, you were intrigued.
Taking a small sip from the cup, you raised your eyebrows in utter praise for the drink in your hand. “This...is incredible. How much?”
The boy shook his head while waving his hands dismissively. “No charge. Every customer’s first drink at this cafe is free,” he grinned.
“Are...are you sure?” You trailed off, noticing the dropped jaws of the girls beside you just before their glares were replaced.
“Promise! I hope to see you again soon...wait, what’s your name?”
“Y/N,” you cleared your throat awkwardly, feeling heat rise up your neck.
“Well then, I hope to see you again, Y/N. That coffee from your vending machine is probably god awful and full of garbage so I really suggest returning here,” the handsome barista winked after his statement and woah, you didn’t think you’ve ever felt more flustered than you have in the past ten minutes. You notice the group of girls beside you whisper amongst themselves.
“I...I’ll see about that. Thank you…” you trailed off, cocking your head to the side, looking for any name-tag on the boy behind the counter.
“Jisung. My name’s Jisung.” You’d later learn that the reason he didn’t wear a name tag was because he felt the urge to introduce himself to customers as a way of getting to know them better.
“Thanks Jisung,” you mumbled before turning to leave and sprinted back to your dorms, trying your best to avoid getting rained on too harshly. The girls took your place in front of the counter, beginning their conversation with Jisung again but he was too absorbed in the sight of you to pay any attention to them.
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“He what!? He gave you a coffee on the house?” Your fellow classmate and best friend, Felix, raised the empty cup from the cafe to examine. You raised an eyebrow as he scrutinized at it.
“Yeah,” you shrug nonchalantly, “He said it was policy that the first drink is free.”
“P-Pol–” Throwing his head back, Felix let out a loud laugh and you sent a confused expression his way.
“What’s so funny?”
“That policy doesn’t exist,” he said in amusement, putting the cup back on the table. Currently the two of you were at the study hall of your dorm building, studying for your economics test in a few days. Although you would have much rather finished your essay, which was your sole purpose of the getting the coffee in the first place, your friend decided to use your generosity against you to beg you to help him study instead.
“What are you talking about? Yes it does.”
“Oh yeah? Then how come I had to pay for my first coffee?”
“I dunno, maybe it’s a new policy,” you reasoned with a shrug.
“No, Y/N, you know what it is? Flirting.”
“Pfft, don’t be so ridiculous! I had maybe a five minute conversation with the guy, got my coffee and left. No flirtation was present during my trip to the coffee shop.”
“Hmm,” he hummed in response, pinching his chin. “Yeah, no. I don’t believe it. You were just flirted with the oldest trick in the book. ‘How much for my coffee?’ ‘For you? Don’t worry about it darling, it’s on the house. My treat.’” He started mimicking your voice unnaturally high in pitch and then mimics Jisung’s response. You couldn’t help but roll your eyes at his imitations.
“Hey,” you frown, smacking his arm. “He did not say that.”
“Yeah but he said something like that...Are you gonna go back?”
“Well,” you gnaw at your lower lip, wondering what to do with this new information. “I guess I have to?”
“You have to? Damn Y/N––”
“To pay him back obviously,” you cut him off, thinking aloud. “Right? Since the policy doesn’t exist, technically I’m stealing and there’s no way my conscience could deal with that without making it eat me up inside so the only reasonable thing to do is to go back and pay them back.”
“I…” Felix trailed off, scratching his head, “I guess so.”
It was the right thing to do wasn’t it? The gesture was kind and all but you couldn’t not pay them back. You knew other people would call you insane for returning back to the cafe you knew you wouldn’t just to spend a few dollars you could be spending on lunch.
You marched through the cafe doors and surprisingly, it was less crowded than you’d originally thought it be. The sun was nearly set, indicating that most classes were well over for the day and you’d think that students would head over to the coffee shop as a way of winding down or to do some homework. Seats were filled around the cafe but it wasn’t nearly as loud and crowded as it was the day prior.
“Woah there, you look like you’re on a mission,” a curly haired barista wiping down a table toward the entrance raised his eyebrows and smiled in amusement.
“Do you know if Jisung is here?” You cut to the chase, panting slightly from your swift walk to the shop.
Furrowing his brows, he looked up in thought, “Hm, he’s on break right now but he’ll be back in,” he paused to look over your shoulder at the hanging clock at the back of the shop behind the counter, “four minutes.”
“I guess I’ll wait then,” you murmured, taking an open seat at a booth against the wall of the cafe.
“Can I get you anything in the meantime? Some dessert or a drink?”
“No, no,” you shook your head with a smile. “Thanks.”
“No problemo,” he grinned, showing off his dimples. Was it a requirement to be cute to work at this cafe? You thought to yourself. “If you need anything, I’m Chan, so just holler.” It was no wonder that this café was so popular; all the workers seemed to radiate such charisma that you just couldn’t not return to say hello again.
You waited a few minutes, tapping your fingers without any sort of rhythm against the wooden table and watched the clock’s second hand gradually make its way around the circumference of the face. Chan noticed your rigid stare at the clock and fidgeting state with a mixture between an amused smile and a confused one.
“I couldn’t help but notice,” he began when he walked back over to the side of the cafe you were sitting at, brushing his hands against the sides of his faded blue jeans, “that you seem kinda nervous? Are you going to confess to him or something?”
Popping your eyes open, you opened your mouth to quickly deny his allegations before you felt yourself choke on your own breath and ended up in coughing fits. Chan widened his eyes in panic at your response and quickly walked away to retrieve some water from behind the counter. Chan walked back to your table and placed a tall glass of water on the table. “Have some water.”
Taking a gulp from the glass, you felt relief in your throat. Placing the glass down, you sighed, “Whew, thanks.”
“No problem.
Before you could even refute Chan’s accusation, you heard the jingle of the cafe door followed by “Good afternoon, beautiful people, I have returned.”
You couldn’t help but roll your eyes in amusement at Jisung and his big goofy grin. This guy just exuded charisma. He didn’t notice you when he first walked in, probably because Chan was in his line of sight but as soon as he walked behind the counter and grabbed his apron from the hook on the wall behind him he spotted you.
“Y/N, you’re back!” He smiled gleefully, while tying the back of his apron. “Want another coffee?”
Shaking your head, you get up from the table, giving Chan a grateful smile in the process, and walked up to the counter. “I’m here to pay you back,” you took out your wallet and start to fiddle with some bills.
“Woah, what are you talking about?”
You didn’t look up from your wallet when you replied, “the policy? I know it’s not real. You didn’t have to just give me a coffee on the house. It was a sweet gesture, don’t get me wrong, really smart marketing you got there but––”
“Y/N,” Jisung stopped you and you look up to see his amused smile.
“What?” You blinked at him, tilting your head to the side in wonder. Were you missing something?
“I gave you the coffee because....” he trailed off before scoffing, “nevermind.” You were lucky you were cute.
“So... can I pay you back now?”
“To be fair,” Jisung crossed his arms defiantly, “since your coffee was on the house that means I paid for you so you don’t owe this shop anything.”
“Oh, so I should pay you. How much was it?” You look back down at your wallet.
Sighing to himself, he opened his mouth as if to answer before he closed it. Drumming his fingers against the counter, he hums in thought.
“Okay, how about a way to pay me back is to return here ever so often?”
“What?” You squinted your eyes suspiciously, wondering what he was asking. Is this...another marketing tactic?
“Even though you said you’d think about coming here again, I saw right through you: you weren’t going to come back. And the only reason you are back is to pay me back. So to pay me back, you have to come back to this cafe...once a day for a week.”
“A week?” you furrow your brows. “Dude, are you robbing me!? That’s like four dollars a day!”
“You don’t have to buy coffee if you come. Even if you just come in to say hi, I’ll call it payment.”
You paused for a moment, thinking about his offer. “Why?”
“Huh?” Jisung seemed taken back by the way he straightened his posture, widened his eyes and his former side smile became somewhat pout-like.
“What’s the deal with getting me to come around to this coffee shop? Do you do this with all your new customers?”
“No,” he leans back to grin before taking notice at someone at a table awaiting their order to be taken and Jisung nods at them and puts up a finger, gesturing ‘I’ll be right there.’ Turning back to you, he wiggles an eyebrow. “I guess you’re just special. I’ll see you tomorrow Y/N.”
He walked around the counter and walked over to the student with a charismatic smile and asked there order. You stood there for a few seconds, watching him interact with the customer, trying to figure him out. A clearing of a throat, broke you away from your thoughts.
“Are you sure you don’t want anything?” Chan asks from behind the register. You’d been so focused on the other boy, you didn’t even notice Chan walk around the counter.
“Uh,” you hum, looking down at the desserts behind the glass.You thought you weren’t hungry but the somewhat loud grumble of you stomach told you otherwise. “A blueberry muffin please.”
“Sure thing,” Chan nods, opening the case before asking, “warmed up?”
“Yes, please.”
He wrapped your muffin into a small bag and folded it before placing it on the counting. Typing away on the register he said, “That’ll be $1.75.” FInally you were getting charged for something.
“Here,” you gave him five dollars. “Give the rest to Jisung please? Just add it to his tip jar or something.”
Knitting his eyebrows together, he asked, “Why?”
“Well, since he refuses to let me pay him back for my coffee, I guess this’ll be my only way to,” you grin, taking the bag and waving at Chan. “Thank you!”
Chan watched you leave with an amused smile on your face and it wasn’t until the bell jingled behind you, signaling you were gone that he turned to Jisung.
“Did you literally pull a ‘it’s on the house’ flirt and it backfired?”
The few customers in the cafe look up from their coffee or studying at Chan’s shout, causing Jisung’s ears to go bright red. “Hyung!” He whisper shouted. Turning to the student with a nervous smile, he reassured, “I’ll be right back.” Walking over to the older boy until he was standing on the opposite side of the counter than him, he whined “Why’d you have to announce that in front of the whole cafe?”
“Please,” Chan rolled his eyes with a scoff, “You’re so red and smiley, everyone didn’t need to know because I announced it. You’re so obvious, dude.”
“Not to Y/N apparently,” Jisung grumbled to himself, looking down at the notepad in his hand with his customer’s order before pushing it over the counter for Chan to make. “I tried to do a smooth thing and she doesn’t even notice,” he murmured to himself, rubbing his forehead.
“Yeah that was kind of odd. It’s like she didn’t even acknowledge it at all,” Chan nodded with furrowed brows, turning to make the drink. “Think she’s just clueless or...perhaps, playing hard to get?”
“Hard to get?” Jisung’s eyes widened. The thought never came to Jisung. “You think?”
“Hm, maybe?” Chan shrugged to himself, back turned to Jisung.
Turning around to lean against the counter, Jisung cupped his forehead in frustration. He’s never been in that sort of situation. Granted, he’s also never been so bold with a girl either. It was one thing to charm and flatter girls till they were weak at the knees for him, but to do it upon acting on his own feelings? All of this was new.
And now you were playing hard to get?
Man, did he pick a tough one.
But he was willing to fight to win you over, even if it took months.
“I’m screwed.”
“Oh yeah and I’m pretty sure she’d rather you not know but she left a large enough tip for you in your tip jar to pay for her coffee yesterday.”
“Are you kidding me!?”
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The next morning wasn’t a particularly productive one for you. You didn’t have classes till later in the afternoon but you still had studying to do and staying up late to finish your essay certainly didn’t help your mood.
Maybe some breakfast would do you some good. Some actual breakfast. You had a piece of toast when you woke up but the grumble of your stomach told you you weren’t satisfied. You walked out of your dorm building and involuntarily, your feet began moving in the direction of the sweet smell of baked goods.
Of course your luck was that you’d end up at the cafe at the same Jisung was working. Later you’d learn that your timing was so impeccable, you’d end up at the cafe when Jisung was working.
“My favorite girl!” Was the greeting you received when you entered, followed by the looks from random students you’ve never seen before. This boy…
You noticed two boys beside him behind the counter that you’ve never seen before, slapping his shoulder and laughing to each other, before Jisung pushed them off and offered you a grin.
“Do find joy in embarrassing me in front of strangers?” You asked when you reached the front of the counter.
“Maybe a little bit,” he smiles, resting his chin against his palm as he leaned against the counter. “What can I get you, brew-tiful?”
The boys standing behind Jisung stifled laughs while you stared at Jisung’s wide grin with an unamused frown. “Really, now? You’re gonna give me dumb coffee puns?”
“Not dumb,” he denied, the smile on his face never faltering, “genius. Now, what would you like?”
“Something filling, I’m starving,” you pat your belly with a frown. “Any suggestions?”
“How about I surprise you?” He asked, quirking one of his eyebrows up.
“Well the last time you did, I was pleasantly satisfied so why not?”
“Great! I’ll be right back.” Jisung walked further down the counter to grab you a treat.
“So you and Jisung, huh?” One of the boys you noticed before smirked with a suggestive eyebrow wiggle.
“Me and Jisung what?” You asked blankly. “I just met the guy a few days ago.”
“Oh really? You guys seem pretty close for how long you’ve known each other,” the other boy piped. You looked at the boy’s name-tags with furrowed brows. Hyunjin and Jeongin.
The first boy, Hyunjin, nodded in agreement.
“I wouldn’t say close but I guess we’re friendly with each other. No clue why, though,” you shrugged.
“You’re the one who got the free drink, right?” Jeongin asked, not even bothering to hide his amusement with his grin.
Furrowing your eyebrows in confusion, wondering how they even found that out you responded, “yup, that’d be me. Why?”
“You must feel spe––”
“Hey, what lies are you feeding her?” Jisung cut off the barista with a scowl, holding the small paper bag in your hand.
“None, we swear!” Hyunjin piped, raising his hands in surrender. “Were we?” He asked, turning to you with a look of pure innocence. Yup, your initial thoughts about this place were right: you had to be incredibly cute to work there.
“Not really,” you shrugged before noticing the bag in Jisung’s hands. “Is that mine?” You ask shyly, pointing your finger at it.
“It is,” Jisung smiled, handing you the bag.
You found it funny how he’d look at his own friends with such pure disgust and then turn to you with the brightest smile.
“Uh-uh,” you stopped him from walking away, wagging your finger at him in scolding manner.
He turned back to you with a sly smile, “Aw, don’t want to leave so soon Y/N?”
“No-o,” you drawled, rolling your eyes, “I’d like to pay for it.”
Sighing, he turned to the register and tapped the screen a few times before opening his palm out, “$1.25 please.”
“Thank you,” you grinned, fishing out two dollars from your wallet. “And please...keep the change.”
You flashed him a final smile and a wave before you turn to go. You didn’t notice him go on his tippy-toes, to look over the people sat in the café and waiting on line, carefully looking at your reaction to what he picked out for you. Noticing the pleased smile on your face, Jisung gave himself a pat on the back and nodded to himself confidently.
“Woah, she’s blind. It’s pretty obvious you’re into her,” Hyunjin chuckled to himself, while wiping the counter with a damp washcloth.
“And dumb. You were just going to give her that cookie for free again! Man, I wish I had free food,” Jeongin whined, shoving his hands into his empty pockets, searching for any loose change.
“Yeah well, jokes on her,” Jisungs said, a smile growing on his face, “I gave it to her with a discount.”
“She gave you an extra seventy five cents anyway,” Hyunjin paused wiping to deadpan with a knowing look.
“Oh, shut up.”
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“So what’s it like dating a barista? Does he, like, make coffees for you during his free time?” Felix asked in the middle of one of your study sessions the following day.
“Huh? Who am I dating?”
“Uh, that Jisung dude. Isn’t he the guy who gave you the drink for free?”
“Yeah but we’re not dating??”
“Oh really? Everyone I talk to has been saying that so I just assumed you were being an awful friend and not telling me about your love life simply because I’m a guy.”
“Please, when I get a boyfriend, you’ll be the first one to know,” you waved a hand dismissively. “But people seriously think we’re dating? That’s totally ridiculous!”
“Yeah being offered things for free and being smiled at and called his ‘favorite girl’ means absolutely nothing.”
“I….I have no idea what you’re talking about,” you cross your arms stubbornly with a huff.
“Ask anyone,” Felix said with a nonchalant shrug, “They all think you’re dating.”
“I...I just met the guy!”
“Ooh, I didn’t hear anything about you not liking him at all. Usually your first denial against dating anyone would be explaining your feelings but…”
“Don’t say that! I don’t like him, now if you’ll excuse me,” You stood up from the table. “I need to go sort something out.” You were getting a sense of deja vu from needing to confront Jisung earlier days prior.
“Tell your boyfriend I said ‘hi!’” your best friend cups his hand over his mouth to shout after you begin walking away. You shoot him a final scowl of disapproval before continuing on.
That day was a busy one for the coffee shop. You craned your neck around to calculate just how many people were in front of you on line and groaned in impatience when you counted more than fingers on one of your hands.
This is why I don’t go to coffee shops. They’re too loud and busy.
You passed the time gazing around the coffee shop. The first few times you were in there, you didn’t really look at the scenery, too busy focusing on your coffee and paying Jisung back.
You liked how warm the whole place felt. The whole shop was painted a dull forest green and there were brown wooden floorboards, perfectly accenting them. You took notice of the greenery around the cafe, small and tall potted plants scattered about and a fake vine wrapped around the menu board giving it an extra touch. The lights were dim, mostly because of the large array of windows in the front of the shop where the sun shone brightly through.
The tables were all wooden, that you observed the first time you sat down, but you didn’t notice how happy all the customers seemed to be. There were pairs and groups of friends sitting about, talking about their day or what’d they like to do over the weekend, or students in single seats, reading a book or making a conversation with a barista. You didn’t see a frown anywhere. It seemed that this cafe radiated such good vibes that no one could be angry in such a chill place.
“Uh, Y/N? Earth to Y/N?” A voice snapped you back to reality. You blinked at the fingers snapping in front of your face.
“Oh...hey!” You shook your head out of your daze, trying to remember why you’d come to the cafe in the first place.
Chucking to himself, Jisung asked, “Can I get your order?”
“Just a water,” you gnawed on your lower lip in regret. Why show up to his workplace if you simply had to ask him a question? You could’ve easily found him when he was done…
But then again, you never saw him outside the coffee shop so you wouldn’t know where to look in the first place.
“You came all the way here for a water?” Jisung asked, raising an eyebrow.
“No, of course she didn’t,” a voice sang, the owner of it showing up behind Jisung. “She’s obviously here to say hello to her boyfriend. Don’t you have manners, dude?”
“B-boyfriend?”
“Uh no.”
The two of you spoke in unison, turning to the speaker.
“You have a boyfriend?” Jisung asked, turning to you with an almost betrayed expression on his face.
“I don’t???”
“Wait what’s going on,” the boy, now confused, scratched his head. “Are the two of you not dating? That is Y/N, right? I’m pretty sure someone told me you were dating.”
“Please excuse Minho,” Jisung leaned forward with a whisper, “He gobbles up any gossip he hears.”
“Hey, I heard that! Now move over, the people need their coffee!” Minho announced nudging Jisung to the side to take the next customer in line’s order.
Jisung nodded his head, gesturing for you to walk further down the counter, to not hold up the line. You leaned against the counter with your arms crossed.
“This is why I came,” you muttered, feeling your cheeks flush. “I don’t know who said what but my friend is telling me that people are telling him, gossiping I guess, that we’re dating,” you motion between the two of you with your hand.
“Wha––really?” You furrowed your eyebrows at how Jisung’s ears perked up and smiled at what you’d told him.
“Yeah, they’re all saying something about favoritism and giving me free stuff and discounts. But I haven’t gotten any since the first time though so I don’t know what they’re talking about.”
“Right,” Jisung chuckled nervously, rubbing the back of his neck. “Well, I didn’t say anything if that’s what you think. You think I’d do that to my favorite girl?”
“Well you sure like to embarrass me so I wouldn’t be too surprised. You seem like the kind to tease me that way.”
“Huh, that’s probably true but I promise it wasn’t me.”
“I believe you.” You truly did. Even though you probably wouldn’t have a few days prior, but Jisung really new to to charm his way into befriending people. “So, if you didn’t tell anyone, who did?”
Jisung shrugged. “Probably people around saw us and just assumed.”
Feeling your cheeks flush at the thought of people observing you and assuming you two were dating by your actions, you scoffed. “Pfft, what? How on earth could they think that?”
“It may sound like a total shock to you, Y/N, but I don’t talk to many girls as often or as willingly as I talk to you so…”
His statement did shock you. Several days prior, you saw the guy swarmed with girls around the counter giggling and cooing at him, and he seemed to bask in it. At least, you thought he did.
No doubt about it, you thought the guy was attractive since you first saw him so it didn’t come as a surprise that he had girls crowding him, hoping to earn a chance with him.
“I know what you’re thinking,” Jisung deadpanned. “I talk to other girls here in the coffee shop, sure, but it’s my job. I can’t just ignore them. You, though, I engage conversations with you first.”
You didn’t like the warm feeling you felt in your chest.
“Oh,” you mumbled, fiddling with your fingers.
“I understand if you want me to back off and stop bugging you so people stop assuming we’re—“
“It’s fine,” you cut him off sharply, snapping your head up to look at him. He was taken back by your answer, raising his eyebrows and widening his eyes. “You’re, uh, pretty cool so I don’t mind.”
“You don’t? Didn’t it bother you like two minutes ago???”
“It did,” you admit quickly, looking away for a split second, “But I changed my mind.”
“Oh, so you’ll still come around?”
Smiling at him, you raise an eyebrow, “Where else am I supposed to get my coffee?”
“Oh.”
“I’ll see ya around. I have a test to study for. Bye Jisung,” you gave a final wave before making your way to the entrance of the café.
Even after you left, Jisung was frozen, mouth agape and eyes widened.
“Uh, dude?”
“She’s willing going to come around,” the lovestruck boy sighed longingly, feeling his heart flutter in chest.
“Oh man, he’s whipped,” Minho chuckled to himself, patting Jisung on the back a few times before returning to making coffees.
And man, he was. At first, he might’ve seen you as a mystery, looking so out of place in that cafe the first time he saw you, but then the more of you he saw, his initial curiosity became anticipation in seeing you again. He couldn’t put his finger on it but something about you drew him closer to you. Maybe it was your first impression of him which wasn’t like the other girls he came to meet in the cafe. Or maybe it was the fact that you treated him like some normal guy and not eye candy. Maybe he liked the fact that you were a challenge to go for.
“I think I like this better,” Jisung mused, leaning over the counter, while you sipped your steaming hot chocolate.
“Hm?” you hummed, looking up at him curiously. You were currently sitting on a stool pushed up the the coffee counter, watching Jisung clean up from the busy work day. It was a Wednesday evening and there were plenty of crammers in the cafe that day.
“You being here voluntarily. When I made you come, I felt a little guilty so this is much better,” he smiled, turning away from you to clear the counter of any stray mugs a customer left around.
“Yeah,” you nodded in agreement, looking around at the empty coffee shop. “I definitely like being here when it’s almost closed.” It was only the two of you in the coffee shop. Chan was there about an hour earlier but left when Jisung offered to close up for him.
“Y/N, we closed up a half hour ago,” Jisung said, putting the mugs in the small quaint sink in the back corner. You paused sipping from your mug to look behind you at the door. The sign was flipped open to face the interior of the cafe.
Looking up at the clock, your eyes widened. “Crap, I didn’t even notice! Why didn’t you kick me out?” No wonder nobody had walked in.
“Because it’s just you.” He shrugged before turning to you, patting his hands against his apron. “Besides, it’s not like I’m itching to go back to my dorm.”
“You’re not getting paid extra though,” you frowned, feeling bad for wasting his time. Here you were, blabbing about how sucky you lab day was because your impotent partner couldn’t even hold a scalpel correctly when your dear friend could’ve been in his dorm sleeping peacefully.
“Your company is enough,” he sighed with a side smile, resting his hands against the counter and holding himself up.
“Alright, charmer,” you rolled your eyes, taking another sip of your hot chocolate. You’d grown to get used to Jisung’s smooth comments but that didn’t mean you weren’t affected by them. “You still look tired.” His eyelids were drooping and he seemed less perky during the later hours of the day.
“I’m fine~” he cooed, waving you off, motioning you to finish your hot chocolate.
“No, no, you need to go to sleep. Take it, I’m finished,” you handed him your half full mug.
“Y/N,” he whined, hesitantly taking the mug out of your hands when you shook it around slightly.
“You have to close up,” you ignored his whines and stand up from the counter stool. “Come on.”
“I’m not a baby, don’t baby me,” he frowned, putting your mug in the sink and turning on the faucet to rinse it off.
Raising an amused eyebrow at him, you gestured to his face, “you’re pouting like a baby.” You tugged his sleeve and handed him the keys sitting on top of the counter. “And you have an early class tomorrow, no?”
Honestly, you thought your friendship was going to maybe last a few weeks before you inevitably lost touch or got too busy to see each other. But, weeks later, your friendship prevailed. Neither of you shared any classes in common together, yet you managed to see each other everyday.
You weren’t at the coffee shop everyday, however. Sometimes, he’d meet you in your dorm’s lounge to hang out, with an occasional interrogation from a very suspicious Felix.
People didn’t bother to stop talking about the two of you either, or even bother to hide. Sure, people knew you guys weren’t official or dating, but that didn’t stop them from shipping it from afar. You always ignored it. You thought you ignored it for the reason that you didn’t even care but maybe you did. Perhaps you ignored it because you didn’t mind being shipped with him.
“Yeah,” he murmured, accepting the keys and shuffled behind you. You both exited the café and you waited for the barista to lock up before heading off in the direction of your dorms.
“Why’re you still following me? Isn’t your building over there?” You asked, pointing in the direction of a few buildings in the distance.
“Can’t I walk you all the way to your dorm to make sure you get in safe? It’s 8 p.m., who knows what psychos are around,” Jisung shrugged tiredly. Even through his obvious exhausted state, he still wanted to be a gentleman and you smiled in response.
“Thanks,” you murmured, looking down at your feet, feeling heat rise to your cheeks. It was getting harder and harder to keep your pulse under control with Jisung’s blunt statements with some sort of underlying meaning.
“You know, I may be half asleep and it’s dark out and all,” Jisung began when you approached the doors of your dorm building, “but don’t think I didn’t notice you get all quiet just now.”
“Hm?” You hum, snapping your head up from fumbling around your wallet for your student card. “Wha-What are you talking about? I’m not being quiet...Why...why would you think that?” By the end of your pathetic rambles, you rubbed the back of your neck nervously.
Jisung raised an eyebrow at your obvious flustered state.
“Just admit my endearing comments are affecting you~” He sang, holding open the door you unlocked with your key. Walking in and turning around to face him, you scowled.
“They most certainly are not!” Total lie.
“Mhm, sure thing, sugar,” he smiled to himself knowingly.
“Oh yeah? If your endearing comments affect me so much, what’re you gonna do about it?” You huffed, crossing your arms.
“Well, I would most likely ask you out but being that you fail to acknowledge any of my advances on you, I’m sure it would just go over your head and you’d think it’d be a friendly hang out.”
“Pfft, as if!” You rebuke stubbornly, furrowing your brows.
“Bowling last week? That was supposed to be a date...And then you invited Felix,” Jisung trailed off with a knowing head tilt.
Oh.
Oh.
“W-wait, you’ve been asking me out this whole time?”
Noticing your look of pure shock, Jisung threw his head back to laugh and smacked his forehead. “To think I thought you were just playing hard to get and it’s just that you are indeed blind.”
“Hey!” You whined uncrossing your arms to throw them up, “I was out here thinking you were just so flirty by nature! You know, part of your whole charm package. I didn’t actually think you wanted to date me.”
“Well, I do, so now here I am being as clear as possible: Y/N would you like to go out with me?”
“Well, duh. I wouldn’t have stuck around such an annoying dude for so long if I didn’t have feelings for him,” you smile coyly, finally accepting the blush heating your cheeks.
“Hey, I am not annoying. I’m charming and kind of clingy sometimes. But NOT annoying!” He grinned, beginning to walk backwards away from your building. “I’ll see you tomorrow, yeah?”
You hummed in agreement before calling out, “You know I actually kind of hated you when we first met? You were too happy and it messed with my ‘don’t care’ aura.”
“Yeah, you made that a bit obvious. It was more the reason to be your friend and bug you though,” he called back before giving you a final wave.  
You thought consuming too much caffeine was the only cause of jitters but the race of your heartbeat told you maybe it wasn’t just coffee; perhaps it was some annoying barista who snuck his way under your arm and into your life.
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mvretti-blog · 6 years
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fat albert vc: hey hey hEY!! good day pals lemme start off by sayin i’m suPER stoked to be here woweewow i haven’t rped in almost a year so excuse me if i’m a lil rusty omg. below the cut is more information on vance including but noT limited to: background, personality, fun Facts, etc.
(( hey, look over there! isn’t that vance moretti, the twenty four year old junior at uw who’s majoring in criminal justice. he is part of the baseball team and lives in the iris building. people who know him say he is gallant but also stubborn. ))
trigger warning: mentions of drug trafficking, gang activity, violence, dumb stuff
HISTORY; alrighty so he was born in staten island, new york to a small family, vance being the youngest of three sons. his family (other than his intermediate fam) actually lives in italy, the moretti folks packing up and moving their kids to america about two or three years before thIS fella popped out. overall he had a great childhood, always playing outside and easily maintaining solid friendships with the other kids in his neighbourhood. his parents worked hard for their money and they weren’t considered to be well off by any means, but they never went hungry or had to worry about being able to pay off their bills on time.
fast forward several years and vance is a lanky teen with two older brothers that already built a reputation around the moretti name. a name now affiliated with gang violence and criminal activity, he had been set up for failure and instead of taking a difficult path to bring honour back into his family, vance followed right along in his elder brothers’ footsteps. however, while they were way deep in the criminal underworld with a drug cartel, trafficking and collecting due payments by any means necessary, vance was doing the bare minimum; selling dime bags to his peers on school grounds and high school parties, sometimes even harder shit if it was relentlessly pushed on him by his brothers.
a small time skip; one brother in jail, the other dead, while vance was a free man. he was basically ostracized from his family not only because of the horrible path he’d followed but because he was also the reason for the current state of his older brothers. by trying to get them all out of the criminal life together, it backfired. he was deemed a snitch and therefore in jeopardy of being hit at any time, any day. the only way out was to flee without a trace so he did, he moved across the whole country and ended up in washington. he wasn’t sure what exactly the reason was for picking that particular place, probably from one of the countless travel brochures he skimmed over, but whatever the reason, he’d made the move and he was starting fresh.
the last time skip; after volunteering for the police department a few times (around working a job with late hours but great tips), vance is taking the necessary precautions and steps to become a man of the law (ironically enough) by attending the university in washington and majoring in criminal justice.
PERSONALITY; oh boy oh boy this guy looks like a hardass bc he has a bad case of resting bitch face howeVER he’s a gentle giant, through and through. he would do anything for his friends, which has been one big reason why he hasn’t had a serious longterm relationship for several years, and he tries to Fight for Good and not Evil but a guy’s gotta let loose sometimes, especially when a good handful of your friends are into or associated with the party scene. but he doesn’t go hard bc 1) hey he’s tryna keep a clean record and 2) he doesn’t wanna slip back into old bad habits.
he is very much a Dad in the sense that he wants to be cool and not hated but he also wants everyone to do their best and achieve their dreams and not go to jail woO. if anyone of his pals ever needs a designated driver, vance will gladly pull up in his trusty Ol’ Reliable aka a pontiac that had been given to him from his dad. he would much rather u call him for a ride home at like 4am rather than end up hurt or dead. vance is also a great person to vent to, will listen for hours or however long u need him to, and is always there to lend a helping hand for whatever. not violence, but he doesn’t shy away from making stern promises (that may sound like threats) to anyone who hurts his pals. he’s not a stickler i stg he just cares a lot abt the ppl he’s close to and wants them to have a Happy n Healthy full life so he’s just overly protective
as for relationships, previously mentioned he doesn’t really have a track record worth counting. the last serious girlfriend he had was probably during the first year he’d lived in washington. it wasn’t until after she moved in with him in the apartment he had at the time that she realized how invested he was in his friends and his work, which were both obviously prioritized over her. so the messy break up ensued, something he never wanted to experience again. vance has tried relationships that had no strings attached; flings or friends with benefits, but it's too hard for him noT to get attached and catch feels, which leaves him in an even messier situation. so if he can help it, he tries to avoid anything more than a one night stand.
basically just a protective cool single dad tryna make it in this crazy world
FUN FACTS; he’s been working as a stripper for the last four years which is how he was able to pay for school without any debt chasing him but its a secret sh. the routine he’s best known for is pretending to be a cop claSSIC
speaking of classic.....classic rock and old rap are his absolute fav music genres that’s lit all he listens too with the exception of a few new songs he’ll catch on the radio
he still keeps in touch with his ma bc i mean heLO she’s his ma his #1 aka he’s a mama’s boy and he talks to her at least once a week
idk thats abOOT IT I G
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allonsysilvertongue · 7 years
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Chasing Hope
Summary: “If I ask you to name all the things you love, how long will it take for you to name yourself?” A story on finding hope, forgiveness and love in a world they never imagined they would survive. Post-MJ. Previously
A/N I know it is not the weekend but nonetheless, enjoy this weekday update (bc I am excited for you to read chap 9 next weekend!) :)
8. The Monster Wakes
“I still get nightmares. In fact, I get them so often I should be used to them by now. I'm not. No one ever really gets used to nightmares.” ― Mark Z. Danielewski, House of Leaves
Despite Peeta's openly curious look, Haymitch dropped on the chair without a word.
"Well?" Peeta prompted when nothing was forthcoming.
"It went fine," he muttered an answer which, to Effie, failed to shed light on the situation.
"You sure? Then where's Katniss?"
"Gone. She needed to clear her head, get some air."
"So it did not go as well as expected," Effie lamented, peering at him.
"Were we expecting the meeting with her mother to even go well?" Haymitch snapped before he let out a breath when he saw the indignant look on Effie's face. Effie did nothing wrong and she shouldn’t have to bear the brunt of it. "Sorry," he muttered. "It went... It was..."
He sighed and slumped further in his seat, reaching into his pocket for his silver flask.
Meeting Iris Everdeen had been emotionally exhausting. For a long time during the meeting, no one had said a word, not Katniss and certainly not her mother. He had only agreed to come along at Katniss' request and he was more than content to keep to himself except the silence had stretched on until he reminded them that someone had to say something.
Somehow, that was a trigger and Iris had cried then, small quiet sniffles and Katniss had thrown him a pleading look, ill-equipped as she was to deal with such emotions coming from her mother.
How he had ended up holding Iris to him in a comforting embrace until she was calm enough to talk was a blur to him. Katniss had listened quietly then as her mother explained the reason she couldn't bring herself to return – all reasons that Haymitch and Katniss had guessed months ago.
"He's taking care of me," Katniss had informed her mother then.
And he thought the girl was being generous.
He had left her to her own devices the first few days after their return only to visit just so he could remind her that she needed to shower and move about before her muscles atrophy from being in a place for too long without use. It had taken a few more days but she did shower and moved around. Or at least, he had found her staring into space at different places in the house. It had been work in progress, even now.
"Peeta is back, too. Effie came with him so... The Village is not so quiet. We're getting by."
"Good," Iris had nodded her head. She extricated herself from his arms to rest her palm on her daughter's cheek. "I know it must have crossed your mind that I have abandoned you. I - "
"Mom," Katniss firmly cut her off right then. "I get it. I get it. The house reminds you too much of Prim and you can't just... But it's because that it reminds me of Prim that I... that I don't mind being back there."
Haymitc had raised his eyebrow at that, not that any of them noticed.
A part of him understood Katniss – she needed to be close to the only reminder of her sister that she had left and that was in District Twelve, in a house that Prim had stayed in for a short while. Another part of him understood Iris perfectly as well. How often had he wished to flee District Twelve, a place that reminded him of his mother and brother at every corner he turned? Too often.
"Maybe... You can visit me sometimes, Katniss."
"Yeah," she had uttered without any real conviction. "If the Capitol gives me permission to travel... Effie pulled some strings for this, but yeah, if I can, I will."
It was a brief meeting, barely lasting more than half an hour before Iris had to return to the nurse station. She had made a passing remark that she might drop by Annie's house for a visit but Haymitch was not expecting it. It wouldn't be easy to see someone welcome a child into the world when one had only recently lost a child. The pain would be still too raw and too fresh for Iris.
For the rest of them, the presence of a new-born was like a breath of fresh air. Finn was far too young to know the effect he had on the adults there but he brought with him a glimmer of promise for a better future. Like he had told Effie, when he looked at the boy, he saw hope and it could be felt in Annie's house.
Still, life with a new-born in the house was also something else entirely. Haymitch could only think of it as being disruptive but to be fair, he was not in his own house which was the likely reason he was not feeling comfortable.
Annie had insisted that they all stay together and while he appreciated her hospitality, six people in a house was six too many for him.
The beach became a place of reprieve when it gets too much in Annie's house. He enjoyed spending this time walking by the beach, something that he could not do back in Twelve. Sometimes, he would see Effie strolling by, barefoot and with her toes in the sand; at times alone, other times with Peeta or Johanna, surprisingly.
Once or twice, he thought of joining her whenever he caught her alone but Effie often seemed at peace being by herself and her surrounding that it made him think twice about disrupting it. It was a rarity to see her in that state that he decided he should just leave her to it. He watched her from a distance once and it made him feel like a creeper so much so that he promptly decided to stop.
When night fell, a different story emerged, a different Effie; one who was agitated and restless.
If there was one thing he grasped quickly was that having a new-born was a good excuse to hide that fact Effie Trinket was not sleeping.
The first night after Annie brought Finn home, he found her pacing the hall only to freeze when she realised that she was not alone.
"His crying woke me up," she explained and he had believed her because it had kept him awake for the most part as well.
But on the third day, he was beginning to see through her bluff and called her out on it - a mistake, because she became defensive.
"You are not sleeping either," she retorted. "You are here, are you not?"
Haymitch shrugged. "I'm used to this."
It gave her pause. She regarded him with a contemplative tilt of her head.
"Are you also used to the nightmares?"
She demanded an answer to that with a hint of agitation in her voice. The lack of sleep was making her irritable and if this was not contained, she would spiral down from there. He would know; he had been through this before.
"You have them. I know it from the nights..." Effie trailed off. They had spent years working together during the Games for her to hear it herself whenever he experienced a nightmare and later, he had spent nights in her bed where she had learnt to deal with it first-hand. "How do you deal with it because -" she heaved and released a trembling breath, "because it's driving me up the wall. I am exhausted and I am afraid to close my eyes."
That was the first time, since she visited Twelve, that he finally glimpsed a crack in her veneer. She was always so careful to put up a front as if all was well with her and she had always been aloof about the state of her health. Now, to allow this in his presence… He knew a cry for help when he saw it.
He reached for her to steer her towards the door by the elbow.
"What are you doing?"
"We're taking a walk," he said.
“It's in the middle of the night."
“Yeah, knew that," Haymitch nodded. "I've seen you taking walks by the beach and that's the only time I've seen you actually relax. Being stuck here with this many people and a baby.... It ain't good for you. You're scared you'll wake them up with your screamin' and you being like this," he gestured, "ain't doing anyone any favours."
"How do you - "
"Of course I know, Effs. I've been through this longer than you."
Once they reached the beach, the change in her was obvious. The tension in her shoulders lifted and she pulled her hand out of the pocket of her robe where she was no doubt clutching to her pack of cigarettes like a lifeline.
With a hand on the small of her back, Haymitch guided her past the boat house and down the steps until they stepped on the sands. She reached down to remove her footwear and he followed.
The sand was soft and cool on his feet. Next to him, Effie pulled her robe tighter to ward off against the chilly night breeze.
He walked quietly with her until on her own accord, Effie broke the silence.
“Does the alcohol truly help?”
“Does the sleeping pill help?”
She glanced at him and then admitted, “No, it doesn’t. It makes me feel trapped in the nightmare… I couldn’t wake up from it.”
“Listen, sweetheart,” Haymitch guided her towards the many empty sunbed and sat her down. “Nightmares are not something anyone can ever get used to. You have to learn to deal with it instead.”
She scoffed at that.
“That is easier said than done, is it not?”
“Finnick once told me that Annie dealt with hers by talking to him. That’ll explain why he was the only person that could get her to calm down. I guess now, she shares it with Jo. Katniss deals with hers by having Peeta next to her or by going hunting the morning after. Having someone with you grounds you, sweetheart. There’s someone there to help wake you up from it when it gets too back. Someone to… someone to remind you that the night terrors ain’t real.”
“You never had that,” she frowned.
“Not in the beginning but then I had you,” he reminded her gently. “Those nights when I fell asleep in your bed or when you slept in mine… Those were the nights that I could have more than a few hours of sleep…. Without needing to be completely drunk,” he chuckled.
He saw her eyes widened imperceptibly. She never knew that, he supposed, since he wasn’t one to talk about it until now.
“Haymitch,” she drew a breath, looking at him a little wary and in disbelief.
“No,” he glanced down at his hand. “I ain’t sayin’ that to try and get you back in my bed. It’s just the truth, somethin’ I thought you needed to hear. What I’m trying to say is that there are things you can’t do alone, sweetheart. I’ve been there,” he raised his head to look into her eyes, to convey the seriousness of it. “I’ve tried that. It doesn’t work.”
She averted her gaze and distracted herself by running her palm over the thin mattress of the sunbed, feeling the course material under the skin.
“How are you dealing with it now?”
“I drink and tried to remember how it made me feel to have you next to me. It’s pathetic,” he waved it off and shrugged.
“You know I’m always here,” Haymitch continued before she could say anything. “I get it that you’re not…that you’re not okay with me now. I get it that we’re not in a good place right now but you have the kids, yeah? You can talk to Peeta or Jo or Annie, even Katniss. You don’t have to deal with this alone.”
Effie did nothing to acknowledge his words and a small part of him ached. She kept her gaze resolutely in front of her, watching the waves washing up the shore. At this hour, late into the night, the beach was deserted. It was only the two of them and he liked it that way but right now, even with her next to him, it felt lonely. She must be feeling a lot worse.
Haymitch touched her hand, hesitant at first that she might pull it away. Her hand twitched and she glanced at him over her shoulder. There was a small smile on her face, not her usual smile but it was there nonetheless.
“Can we stay here for a little while longer?” she requested.
He would do anything for her if she asked.
“Yeah, ‘course.”
She leaned back so that she was half propped and watched him. He followed suit, careful to keep his arms carefully folded on his stomach. The last thing he wanted was to give her any wrong ideas about his intention.
“Thank you,” she whispered in the dark.
Haymitch grunted under his breath to let her know he heard her. He wasn’t exactly sure what she was thanking him for but he wasn’t about to ruin this tentative moment that they had.
By morning, he woke up to find that they had fallen asleep on the sunbed and that he had an arm slung over her midsection with her hair in his face. Haymitch closed his eyes and took a deep breath, savouring this moment when he could hold her again. Once she wakes up, it would be gone.
How did you like the moment between Katniss and her mother or Haymitch and Effie? How will Effie react when wakes up and realises that she feel asleep with haymitch on the beach in public?
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