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#straighten hair without damage
faunandfloraas · 2 months
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No but actually coming from someone with fine wavy/curly hair who had some hair loss and lots of issue I really and truly wish I could sit down and talk with Chan because he really needs someone who understands curly hair to get him some products and show him what to do and he also needs to stop using heat. Like no straightening. No hair drying. Or at least very sparsely.
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lemonade-juley · 1 year
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Apparently my head is fucking massive, "one size fits all" my ass.
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suredealsweb · 9 months
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How to Use Straightener Without Damaging Hair
Unlock the secrets of how to use straightener without damaging hair and effortlessly straight Hair Are you tired of frizzy, unruly hair? Do you dream of achieving sleek, straight locks without causing damage? Look no further! In this comprehensive guide, we will unveil the key techniques and tips on how to use straightener without damaging hair. Whether you’re a novice or an experienced user,…
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stealanity · 1 month
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“ MY HEART WILL LOVE YOU. ” ft. lee heeseung
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genre & warnings : brother's best friend ! heeseung, angst, cheating, crying, but i swear it ends fluffy asf + one die joke
summary : when your night turns into a nightmare, the one and only person capable of comforting you is him.
word count : 2,637
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« can you please come get me? » you asked, in a voice so shaky that your interlocutor on the other side of the phone struggled to understand your words. heeseung straightened up on his bed, rubbing his eyes like a child before taking the phone away from his ear, checking the time displayed on the screen. frowning as he realized it was past two in the morning, he kicked his blanket away from his legs, finding himself on his feet the next second. « where are you? » his husky voice made you feel even more guilty for disturbing him at such a late hour, new tears forming at the edge of your tired eyes, « in front of his house. »
hesseung sighed, you could hear his exasperation through the phone. « i'll be there in fifteen minutes. » he concluded simply, putting an end to the call before getting ready to come and pick you up. gently pulling your phone away from your ear, you stared at it, his contact photo disappearing to make way for a completely black screen. the wind outside was cold, nibbling at your skin — your cheeks were probably even damaged than they already were. without being able to hold back any longer, many painful tears escaped your eyes to roll down your face.
you weren't sure whether contacting heeseung was a good idea : but he was, without a doubt, the only person who can console you. you can't count the number of times he's seen you cry, whether it's because of classes, work, your family or your boyfriends, heeseung dried more tears than your mother ever did. for all that, he was nothing more than your brother's best friend — but there was something about him that made him so comforting, so warm. he was like a shining sun at the end of a dark tunnel, or like an untied rope ready to bind you out of the deepest well. so yes, maybe calling him instead of any of your other friends was a bad idea, but at least you knew he'd take care of you.
when heeseung's car pulled up in front of you, the poor boy didn't expect to find you in such a state. curled up, your hair and face wet, your make-up smeared on your cheeks, your body shivering with cold.. it was perhaps the worst state he had ever seen you in. stepping down from the driver's side, rounding the car and landing in front of you, he didn't have time to offer you a hand before you stood up on your two legs, your watery eyes locked in his. « look at you.. » he began, his hand hesitantly brushing your bare arms, « you tremble like a leaf. » he didn't hesitate a second longer before grabbing the brim of the sweatshirt he was wearing, removing it with ease before deftly slipping it on you, without you being able to say anything.
pulling the hood up over your head, heeseung frowned as he bent down to your height. « why is your hair all wet? » his cold fingers brushed your cheekbone, trapping a lock of your wet hair behind your ear, which made you look up at him, « and don't you dare lie to me. »
again fleeing his gaze, you tucked one of your hands into the pocket of his warm sweatshirt, pushing him lightly to the side to be able to open the car door. « i'll tell you at home. » — your voice was so fragile, it shook his heart, but he said nothing more, nodding his head before stepping around the car to the steering wheel.
the driving home passed in dead silence, despite the many glances he gave you — which you brilliantly ignored. with your face turned completely towards the window, you furiously tried to wipe away the tears that continued to roll down your battered cheeks. heeseung wasn't fooled : he knew you were crying, but he wasn't the type to comment. especially when it came to you. as far back as he could remember, he'd always been the one requisitioned to chase this droplets of salt water from your cheeks. your brother too bored and your parents too absent, unable to do it themselves. but it had never bothered him, not even once. he'd always taken a liking to you — it was inexplicable. he always had a soft spot for you, and that was probably why he could never say no to you. you could call him three times a night, at different hours, and he'd still be ready to drop all his plans for you. everyone knew, except you. what a shame.
arriving in front of his house, he got out of the car after turning off the ignition, reaching into the pocket of his jogging to find the key to his front door. followed closely by you, heeseung suddenly felt your body cling to his, your face camouflaged against his back, and a light smile appeared on his lips. innocently, your hands clung to his shirt, the cold of your fingers passing through the fabric to reach his skin, provoking a shiver down his spine. heeseung hurriedly opened the door, pulling you inside with him, hoping that the warmth of his apartment would warm your chilled body.
remaining motionless in the doorway, his hands settling over yours in a comforting gesture, patiently waiting for you to detach yourself from him. not that you bothered him, on the contrary — but he wanted to find something to take care of you properly. « let's go and remove your make-up, mh? » he softly whispered, leaning his face slightly towards you, trying to catch a glimpse of your eyes, even though they were camouflaged in his shirt, « don't you think your face has suffered enough as it is? »
nodding, you decided to let him go, throwing off your shoes as he did so. then, with hushed steps, even though no one else was present, you followed him like a lost puppy to his bathroom, where he practically ordered you to sit still by the sink. without the strength to do anything else, you carried out his orders, playing nervously with your fingers as you gazed sadly into the void. heeseung soaked a cotton pad in make-up remover to wipe away the mascara that had run down your cheeks, his free hand gently raises your face to keep your eyes focused on his face.
as he began to rub your cheek gently so as not to hurt you, his gaze met yours for a brief second. « are you going to tell me what happened now? » he asked, his voice echoing off the walls before you could let out a sigh, « at least tell me why your hair was soaked. »
your eyes juggled from one to the other of his, pursing your lips nervously as you felt tears welling up in your eyes once again. « his girlfriend came home. » you simply said, which caused heeseung to stop all movement, his eyebrows furrowing more than ever. « but.. you're his girlfriend? » he replied, tilting his head to one side in the hope that he'd misunderstood what you'd just said. but no, he had indeed heard the right words : judging by the way new tears appeared on your cheeks the next second. « that's what i thought too. » you struggled to say, your voice cracking in mid-sentence, and heeseung swore he could hear your heart breaking in your chest.
you felt so bad — you felt betrayed and soiled, this evening had been a real fiasco. what had begun as a perfect date had ended in a nightmare : while you and your supposed boyfriend ( well, now ex-boyfriend ) were sitting on the couch watching a movie, the front door had opened to let in a young pretty girl, obviously just as surprised as you to see you clinging to her boyfriend. your first instinct was to distance yourself from him, which wasn't your best decision because, unfortunately, it led this girl to believe that you were her boyfriend's mistress. in anger, she grabbed the glass of water from the coffee table, threw it in your face and chased you out of which, was obviously, her house.
« i feel so dumb heeseung.. » you whispered, burying your face in your hands as you felt more tears fall from your eyes. the boy didn't wait any longer before pulling you against him, wrapping his warm and comforting arms around your body and making you want to burst into tears even more. he was your crying button, because you weren't afraid to show him your emotions. you knew that no judgment would come out of his mouth, that no wrong words would be spoken — because he was like that, an escape. « now, i understand why you didn't want to tell me in front of his house, » he sighed, rubbing your back up and down, « you knew i would have gone to see him. »
reluctantly pulling your body away from his, hooking your hands on his bare arms, just above his elbows, you draw him away from you to give him the opportunity to observe your face attentively, his soft gaze scanning your flushed cheeks. sniffing discreetly, you shook your head negatively and spoke again, « he wasn't worth it anyway. »
heeseung nodded positively, swallowing all the swearings that rambled on his tongue about your ex-boyfriend — he could have given him a free nose job if he'd known what he'd done earlier. but, putting aside his feelings for you, he'd never been able to stand that boy's interest in you. from the start, he had been behaving strangely : he was far too hasty, slightly possessive for someone who'd only just met you, and far too helpful to be reliable. heeseung was angry that he hadn't been able to protect you more from him, despite the bad feeling he'd had towards him. « don't feel guilty, » your sweet, honeyed voice, even in a whisper, drew him out of his thoughts, drawing his attention to the smile mingling with a few tears on your gorgeous face, « i'm glad you came. »
heeseung was sure you saw his face blush softly — a red tinge painting the top of his cheeks. but he didn't care. because he thought, sooner or later, you'll understand that you don't need to find love at every corner, because it's right there in front of you. he's the one who'll know how to take care of you properly — because he's always known how to do it, perfectly, tenderly. and he was sure that deep down, you knew it too.
your hand left his arm and rested tenderly on his flushed cheek, caressing his skin with the tip of your thumb. « thank you for always being my source of happiness, » you whispered, trying not to laugh as his face redoubled in color, « you're the only comfort i ever need. »
if you didn't look so sad, heeseung wouldn't have hesitated for a second to kiss you. you didn't realize how fast his heart was beating right now — you always knew how to make him fall madly in love with your words. he struggled so hard not to let his pupils divert to your lips, but the desire to catch a glimpse of your rosy lips stretched into a stomach-crushing smile was too strong. he allowed himself, for a microsecond, to look down the curves of your nose, to observe your heart shaped mouth, who seemed far too lonely for his liking.
but heeseung was an upright man : so he simply cleared his throat, looking away to rummage in his cupboard and pull out a jar of moisturizer, to soothe your skin irritated by cold and tears. dipping his finger in the whitish cream, he delicately applied it to your cheeks, chin, forehead and the tip of your nose, your fingertips shivering from the cold material. and you let him, admiring his concentrated face — so peaceful, so perfect. the contours of his face probably sculpted by the gods. the bridge of his slightly upturned nose, the shape of his beautiful, mischievous brown eyes. but above all : the exquisite shape of his shining mouth, his perfectly rosy heart-shaped lips.
you've lost count of the number of times you've squinted at heeseung's lips : the first time was in your middle school years, when you were just discovering what it was like to kiss someone. he'd walked into your living room, a dreadful cap on his head, and even though he looked like an idiot in his three-times-tall clothes, which were supposed to make him look cool, the jaw-dropping smile on his lips had not failed to make you dream about kissing him every night. but rather die than admit it.
for all these years, what has held you both back from trying something with each other, is the fact that he's your brother's best friend. but as you get older, you realize that maybe it wasn't so bad after all. heeseung wasn't your brother's property after all — and you were old enough to make your own decisions. so, maybe when your heart's a little more mended — still thanks to one and the same person — you'll let it love the one and only person who's always deserved it.
the soft smile on your lips caught heeseung's attention, the sadness seemed to have already disappeared from your face. as he gently tugged at your waist to get you off the sink, he decided to question you, « what's on your mind? »
shrugging your shoulders without answering, you moved closer to him, pressing your body against his. your arms encircle his waist, trying to capture all the warmth emanating from him, tiptoeing up to rest your cheek against his shoulder. without hesitation, heeseung placed his arms around you, the fingertips of his left hand caressing your hip. « you're so warm.. » you murmured, your breath evaporating against his sensitive skin, provoking an umpteenth shiver that didn't escape your attention this time.
moving slightly, you straightened up slightly, simply to hide your face in the hollow of his neck, eager for more of his warmth. only his. the situation with your ex-boyfriend now in a distant corner of your mind, you let yourself melt into his arms a little more, feeling his heart beat under the palm of your hand. it was restful, reassuring and comforting. and suddenly, under the subdued light of the bathroom, in the cocoon he formed around you with his warm arms, you felt ready to confide in him the deepest feeling that had rested inside you for far too long, the most unmentionable thing you were ready to say out loud. « i long for the day when my heart will love you. » you confessed to him, in the hollow of his ear, in an almost unreal whisper, like a secret that only he should know, like the most scandalous of gossips.
heeseung felt his heart racing in his chest, unable to calm it, even knowing that it was accelerating under your fingers delicately placed on his chest. but why did he care, after all? it didn't matter how vulnerable you made him feel after such words — because the truth was, he was looking forward to this day too, just as much as you. and he was willing to wait a long time : because the simple fact that you wanted to love him, filled his heart with happiness.
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taglist ( even if i don't think i still have one.. here's the google form ! ) : @quaissants @kimsohn @wccycc @taegicarus @lost-leopard-beanie @kflixnet
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xysidhequeen · 1 year
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The King and his Red Knight
DPxDC crossover fic
Part 1
Really sorry to everyone who suffered through the fact that I didn't know about the existence of readmore. I can't fix the thread now but the individual posts are better? Sorry I have like a very rough idea of how this site works 😭
Check the: The King and his Red Knight tag to find all the parts
"Go here, Danny. Go then, Danny. Go to a random cemetery in the middle of the night for no reason, Danny." A voice grumbled, accompanied by the sound of sneakers rhythmically tapping stone.
Danny Fenton, currently Phantom, sat on a gravestone, his white hair a beacon in the dark night. There were no stars in the sky for him to gaze upon, their light hidden behind swaths of smog and neon lights playing off the gray clouds.
Clockwork had dumped him here, with no explanation for why. Not that he ever really explained much when he sent Danny off on his tasks. He supposed he should be grateful, at least he was in the same when rather than being transported a thousand years into the past.
"Wait here King Phantom. You will understand in time." Danny mimicked his mentor's voice as he let himself float off the grave he'd been dumped on after Clockwork shoved him out of a portal. His body floated higher until he could flip around, his legs crossing. He sat upside down, his chin in his palm as he glared petulantly at the assembled gravestones surrounding him, his toxic green eyes glowing.
"So far all I've seen is a concerning amount of ecotplasm for a city without a ghost portal and some blob ghosts! How long am I supposed to wait here?" Danny asked the air, and the aforementioned blob ghosts who were hanging off his body, soaking in the ambient ecotoplasm he radiated at all times now.
Neither provided him with an answer to his question and Danny let out a frustrated groan as he lowered his still flipped body to look once more on the gravestone he'd been tasked with waiting on.
Jason Todd, the name read. The dates, too close together, made something in Danny squeeze painfully. He'd been young, barely older than Danny when he stepped into the portal. Only for this teenager there had been no ectoplasm to bind to his dying body and repair the damage of death and force him back into a semblance of life.
"Who were you and why did Clockwork send me to you?" Danny asked the gravestone, one clawed finger tracing the words before he pulled back with a sigh when the gravestone gave him no explanation. The dead didn't always speak, not even to their king.
Turning his body Danny looked over the rest of the cemetery. It was empty, as most usually were this time of night, of the living. There were a few shades wandering around, circling closer to him, drawn by his presence. No full ghosts though, but oddly enough there rarely were in cemeteries. This was where the dead came to rest. To remember, if they wanted to. Cemeteries were sacred spaces to the dead, much as a temple or a church would be for the living who were religious. Ghosts who still clung to life, to their obsessions, did not frequent cemeteries, did not dare trespass and disturb those who had already found their peace.
Danny himself was an oddity. He had never shied from cemeteries, enjoying the peace he found in them, the guarantee of safety offered. And perhaps, he mourned that he himself would never have a gravestone for the living to place their flowers and their tears at. Who would make a grave for someone who was both alive and dead? There would never be a body to bury for him. His human half would continue to live on so long as his ghost core remained and could fuel it.
Maybe that was why he found peace in cemeteries, for all his whining that Clockwork had dumped him here. Cemeteries were for the living and the dead, one of the only places both existed in harmony naturally. For someone who was as much dead as he was alive such a place held a certain degree of belonging for him.
Danny straightened out in the air, letting his body lie above the grave as he folded his arms behind his head and looked up at the covered sky. He complained and whined about this task, but he was secretly glad that Clockwork had given him something to do. Even if it was just 'hang out in a random cemetary'.
Ever since he'd graduated high-school, revealed himself to his parents and discovered how deep prejudice and hate could run, and he'd run away to the Infinite Realms for sanctuary while his friends moved forward with their lives, he'd felt unmoored. A ghost with no haunt. Bored was too light a word for the gaping emptiness he felt in his chest, for the loneliness clawing at him. Clockwork, Wulf, Pandora they could help chip at the ache inside of him but not banish it. Not now that his family, his friends, were spread so far apart and so distant from him.
Not that he resented their choices, their distance, in fact he'd fought for them to do just that, to get out of Amity Park, to go to college, to become more than overworked teen superheroes. Still he missed them, even if he could visit them whenever he wanted. It was becoming clear as time moved forward that the world they belonged to and the one he did were two different things.
Danny Fenton couldn't go to college when his parents had declared him dead. Danny Fenton didn't exist as far as the government was concerned. Danny Phantom couldn't return to Amity when those same parents were waiting to capture him and tear him apart 'molecule by molecule'. Danny Phantom couldn't go back when the GIW were crawling over the town like ants.
So neither Danny Fenton or Danny Phantom returned to Amity after that day. And he made sure they couldnt follow him when he ensured the portal that took his life to function never opened again. He didn't need the portal any longer to get in and out of the Infinite Realms, and it was safer for the ghosts, his subjects, if the temptation of the Fenton portal was gone.
The world of the living was not yet ready to accept that the dead didn't always stay dead. And Danny would keep his people safe until they were.
Danny jolted from his lazing state of reverie when a pulse of emotion rocked through him, the strength of it stealing his breath if he had any to take.
Fear/Trapped/Dark/Fear/Help/HELP pounded into him and Danny frantically flipped around, head swiveling, poisonous green eyes wide as he triedf to locate the source. The emotions, the plea for help, burned his core, his Obsession screamed at him.
Help/SomeonePlease/Dark/Trapped/CANTBREATHE/HELP another wave of messages, of emotions pushed themselves at Danny and this time underneath the onslaught he could hear a rhythmic thudding. Danny looked down, horror filling him when he realized the thudding was coming from under the ground. From the grave he'd been hovering over for an hour now.
Danny flew down, sending back a wave of I'mHere/HelpIsComing/I'mComing to the boy trapped in his own coffin, feeling the intense wave of relief and hope sent back before he dived into the earth as if it wasn't there. Danny paused for a moment when he passed the thick wooden coffin, seeing a boy in the dark with wide, panicked blue eyes and fingers tipped with shredded nails and fresh blood.
"Hey, I'm going to get you out of here, okay?" Danny told the boy, keeping his voice gentle, soft. The boy jolted, fixating on the only source of light, Danny's growing green eyes. Danny hoped his smile came off as calming instead of 'freaky AF' as Tucker liked to call it. He grabbed the boy, Jason, as carefully as he could and then let his intangibility wash over the terrified teen as he lifted them both out of the coffin.
When they emerged from the coffin and the ground Danny set the teen down, leaning him against the gravestone, his own gravestone, and pulled back a bit. The boy was gasping in air as if the fetid, polluted air was the sweetest thing he'd ever tasted.
Danny tilted his head as he watched the boy ground himself. Now that the emotions were leveling out and his Obsession was purring in contentment rather than growling in a frenzy, Danny could feel something off about the boy.
Disregarding the fact that he'd just come back from the dead, of course. But that wasn't the oddest thing Danny had seen in his afterlife. No the boy felt... not like a normal, living human. Not even like an Amity Park resident, who all felt more than slightly liminal. No this boy, this Jason Todd, felt closer to liminal than even Jazz, Tucker or Sam, who were three of the most liminal humans Danny had ever been around.
Jason felt almost...like a ghost. But not. Danny could feel the tickle in his throat that proceeded his ghost sense but the tell-tale mist never emerged. It was as if Jason was...like him. But Danny couldn't sense a core either. Even halfas had cores.
"Who are you?" Jason spoke, breaking Danny from his thoughts and examination. Jason was looking at him with a mix of gratitude and suspicion. Which, fair. Danny had just pulled him from his own coffin and there were so many questions that could stem from all of this, disregarding all the weirdness that was just Danny himself.
"I'm Danny, Danny Phantom. Or just Phantom. I go by either. And you're Jason, right?" Danny asked, smiling at the teen and oops, yeah that was definitely his scary smile based on the slight flinch there. It wasn't his fault his teeth were too sharp now and his lips split a bit too wide.
"How did you know that?" Jason asked, blue eyes narrowing. Danny nodded at the gravestone the boy was leaning against with a raised brow. Jason turned and almost toppled over from the movement. Danny frowned as the boy caught himself on his gravestone. His skin was still pale, too pale, and as Danny watched Jason swayed again.
"Shit. You're fading. You didn't form a core and your body isn't stabilizing." Danny cursed, moving towards the boy who scrambled back, only to be stopped by his grave.
"What the hell are you doing?" Jason asked, hands fisting as he tried to rise only to fall back to the ground when his legs refused to hold his weight.
"Saving your life. The dead aren't supposed to come back. There's always a price to pay, a balance that is struck. Currently, as you are, if I don't get enough ectoplasm in you to form your core, you'll fade and turn into a brain-dead husk." Danny told Jason, tone stern and no nonsense as he grabbed him. Jason made an effort to break free, but it was weak, and even at full strength, he wouldn’t have been able to break Danny's hold. Few in this realm could.
If they had the time, Danny would've approached this situation in a far different manner, but this close he could hear Jason's heartbeat, a weak flutter in his chest, skipping beats as it tried to fuel a body that was past saving. Jason didn't have the time for Danny to approach this gently and kindly, to coax trust out of the teen like he would a feral cat.
Jason had minutes left before his ectoplasm starved body consumed itself trying to make a core and failed because while wherever they were had more ambient ectoplasm than most places, it was far from enough to sustain the birth of a halfa. Maybe if Jason had stayed dead for another year, he'd have naturally formed a core and risen as a proper ghost. But that wasn't what happened, somehow he'd gathered enough to fix his body of whatever wounds or illness had put him in that coffin to begin with and come back to 'life' but without a core to sustain his body he'd be dead, again, in minutes. And Danny was not about to watch while a teenager, another teenager, died.
"How do I know I can trust you?" Jason hissed as Danny pushed his arms down and laid his clawed hands on Jason's chest.
"You don't. But you don't have another choice." Danny said with a shrug. "Now are you going to let me save your life or not?" Danny asked, not moving his hands. He'd save Jason either way but this would be easier if Jason worked with him.
"Fine." Jason spat and Danny smirked as his hands began to glow a toxic green that matched his eyes.
Ectoplasm pooled out of his hands and rushed into Jason, filling him until the boy glowed bright enough to rival the neon lights of the city around them. The green light flared around him like an aura, slowly shrinking but getting impossibly brighter as the glow centralized around his chest until a small glowing ball of green, like a trapped star, blazed from his chest.
Jason gasped, back arching as Danny pulled his hands away and the light vanished under Jason's skin. For a moment Jason's blue eyes burned green and his hair flashed snow white before returning to black, with one single lock of unearthly white left above his forehead. Jason collapsed back against his grave, chest heaving. Danny watched, eyes full of a sad understanding.
"What the fuck was that?" Jason panted out.
"Welcome to the world of the half alive, half dead." Danny said with a smile. "Want to get a burger and talk about it?" He asked, standing up and dusting off his hands.
"Make it a chili dog and you've got a deal."
~~~~~
Fixed some typos added some lines
Maybe I'll continue this AU. Maybe not. This scene was in my head for days and I wanted to share
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sheluvv-gambino · 9 months
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“You know you goregeous with or without it.”
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pairings : e-42 miles morales x black fem!reader
summary : Damn, miles really dosen't like it when you straighten your hair.
warnings : Just that I don't know american school time tables :/
Miles sat in first period looking from the door to his phone that was under the desk waiting for you to either walk through that door or shoot him a text.
Another five minutes passed and he pushes aside his pride and decides to text you first.
Grumpy : Wya, ma?
you : I'm omw.
Grumpy : Why you not here yet?
you : My flat iron broke.
Grumpy : fym your flat iron broke, what's that got to do with you being late!?
you : I forgot to do it last night and then it broke today so I had to ask my sister for her one, duh.
Grumpy : Just not straighten it??
you : ew dont be gross, miles.
As soon as you sent that last message the bell decided to ring making it known that first period was now over.
You decided to wait outside the classroom you were supposed to be in and meet Miles so that you could see your boyfriend before seperating ways for second period.
With your quick silk press flowing you greeted miles with a side hug but all you got was a stink face.
"So that's what we doin' now, we late to school just cos' of hair now mami..?" Miles muttered.
"It is not that big of a deal, at least my hair looks good now." You replied whilst walking.
He stops and pulls you to the side, pulling you close by snaking his hand around your waist.
He bends down so that his lips and your eyes are at a balance, with a raspy voice he whispers "You do not need to be damaging your hair and education just to make sure your hair flowy. Your hair is beautiful in it's natural state, don't straighten it again. I mean it."
He grabs hold of your hand and resumes walking with you beside him.
"You know your gorgeous with or without it, mi vida..."
Yeah, your boyfriend loves you.
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imreadydollparts · 4 months
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Q&A stuff here
(If you have any other questions, let me know.)
How dirty of a doll or pony can I send?
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Inside and out, these are both fine to come to the salon.
I may decline a pony or doll if they're dirtied with bodily fluids of any kind. I will be more than happy to talk you through the cleaning process so you can take care of that yourself.
However, if you are distraught and can't handle it, we can talk. I absolutely need a warning.
What happens if you damage a pony/doll someone sent?
I fix it.
For example, I got some 40Vol on a customer's Confetti's yellow hair and it bleached out the yellow color. I told the customer what had happened and did a partial rehair with vintage hair of the same color from my MLP G1 tail stash. That way the owner is informed and the pony is still full vintage.
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Another example is that I was resetting the pose on a Flutterbye, and her feet turned white where they'd sat in a little boiling hot water (I didn't take a picture). I blasted them with a heat gun for a while and they're good as new.
And another was a Birthday Pony who's ribbons had been tied in knots and were weak. I snapped one when I went to recurl it, informed the owner, and they were amenable to replacement of all of the ribbons.
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Repair is often risky. If I do damage that I can't fix, I will pay the going price for one of the same quality on eBay or order it for you and give it the salon process for free.
What hair do you use?
I use high-grade, silky smooth nylon mostly ordered from Shimmer Locks for full rehairs.
For partial rehairs like replacing a few plugs here and there or a forelock that was cut, I use vintage hair as long as I have it available in my stash of tails or can harvest enough from the pony's own tail without making the tail too thin. I do offer full tail replacements if I happen to have a replacement tail.
Can I request a hair style?
Absolutely! I can't guarantee that I'll be able to do the style you're wanting, but I'll certainly try. I can attempt a few different kinds of curls and have both a standard size and mini crimper.
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You can also let me know if you want every pony's mane to be on the same side of their head. I'm not very consistent with that otherwise.
Why do you charge so much more for deflocking?
I hate doing it.
What paints do you use?
Right now I'm using Army Painter acrylic paints. I was using Liquitex before and found it difficult to get just the right consistency, whereas Army Painter has been easier for me to manipulate.
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Why is your hair styling/photography/etc. so inconsistent?
I am not a professional anything and have a poor memory.
My photography is also inconsistent because I use my phone and every time I take my phone on or off of the cheap ringlight-phone-tripod the tripod moves.
The way I style a certain pony's hair will change between ponies because I don't remember how I styled it before and if I've had to flat iron it, I may not remember that it had been curly.
One of the great things about this being a hobby as opposed to a business is that I don't have to spend a lot of time on the parts that aren't fun (for me photography isn't fun), and don't have to be consistent. I just have to enjoy what I'm doing. If I can help out other people and get a little money so that I can keep doing what I do enjoy, that's a bonus.
Do you always ---
deflock So Soft Ponies?
No. I only do that when asked because I hate doing it. I will also deflock a pony I bought to clean and sell if the flocking is bad enough, but if the flocking is decent I don't ruin it.
straighten doll/pony hair?
No. I will do my best to preserve factory curl if it's present and the hair is in good enough condition it doesn't need flat ironed, but can't guarantee I will succeed...
How aggressively I treat hair depends entirely on the hair itself.
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riality-check · 9 months
Note
riiaaa!! for the 100 ways to say i love you prompts, #1 and steddie please!!
(this is also very late, but here we go!)
"Pull over, let me drive for a while."
"Steve."
"Mhm."
"Steve."
"Yeah?"
"You're gonna drive us off the road."
"I'm fine," Steve says, and Eddie watches from the passenger seat as the car moves a full two feet onto the shoulder.
And people have the nerve to criticize his driving.
"Yeah, no," Eddie says. "Pull over, let me drive for a while."
"I got it," Steve says, a mid-sentence yawn ruins his credibility.
Eddie sighs. Steve is more than just a good dude; he's become one of Eddie's closest friends over the past few months, thank you, trauma bonding. But even though Steve Harrington is a good person, he's exceptionally stubborn when he wants to be, and driving his Beemer is the most stubborn he ever gets.
Seriously, though? He needs to sleep. He's gonna get them hurt otherwise.
"Sweetheart," Eddie says, and where that came from, he's going to blame on the sleep deprivation, "please. I promise I won't scratch your car."
Steve straightens up at that. Sneaks a glance at Eddie out of the corner of his eye. Relaxes his grip on the wheel.
"Okay," he says, and he puts his blinker on, pulls onto the shoulder. "Yeah, you can drive."
Eddie breathes out a sigh of relief as they switch seats. He's lucky he and Steve are the same size, nearly; he doesn't have to adjust the seat or the mirrors.
He glances at Steve, just to make sure he's settled, before he shifts the car into gear and gets them back on the road toward Hawkins.
Move in was a success all around. First Nancy, in Boston, then Jonathan in New York, then Robin in Philadelphia. Steve and Eddie had nothing else to do, the gas money to spare, and a want to help out. Taking the Beemer seemed stupid until Eddie was reminded by everyone, less than nicely, that the van would fall apart on a drive to Indy, nevermind to three different cities on the East Coast.
They fit less boxes, but at least they made the journey without breaking down.
And now they're on their way back, at nearly midnight with four hours left to go, because it makes more sense to drive than to find an affordable hotel that's not a shithole in Philadelphia.
"This is weird," Steve mumbles.
"What is?"
"Letting someone else drive my car," he explains. "Last time, I was concussed, and Max almost drove us into a telephone pole."
"Mayfield?"
"Yeah, back in '84. Hargrove beat the shit out of me so bad I could barely think, the kids had to get somewhere, and she was the only one who knew at least a little about how to drive."
Eddie laughs and shakes his head. "Everything I learn about you is weirder and weirder."
"I didn't even tell you the worst part."
"Which is?"
"I was so out of it, I thought Mike was Nancy."
Eddie cackles, wiping the tears from his eyes as he continues to drive. Thank god no else is on the road.
"They don't even look alike," he wheezes.
"In my defense," Steve says with a smile, "I did have brain damage."
"Past tense?"
Steve punches him in the shoulder. "Asshole."
Eddie rubs over the spot with one hand and keeps driving with the other. It's nice, this time of night. No one on the road, warm enough to have the windows cracked in the pitch black. Music playing loud enough to hear but low enough to have a conversation over.
It helps that Steve's rich-boy car drives smoother than anything else Eddie's been behind the wheel of, and Eddie's been behind a lot of different wheels in his life.
"Thanks," Steve says after a little while.
"For what?"
"Driving."
"Of course," Eddie says, because he means it. Of course he'd drive when Steve can't. It's what you do for the people you-
Eddie looks over at Steve. He's kicked his shoes off and scrunched his knees to his chest on the passenger seat. He's curled up, toward Eddie, with his hair fanned out and his cheek squished against his knee, eyes closed. The streetlights, as they race by them, cast his skin in varying shades of silver and gold, highlighting the contrast of his freckles.
-love.
Eddie's doing this because it's what he does for the people he loves.
It's a quieter realization than he expected. Eddie has loved a lot of people like he loves Wayne and his friends, but he's never been in love before. He thought it would be an all-consuming, heart-racing crash, a collision bringing fire and constriction, needing the jaws of life to pull him out.
This isn't like that. This is liking being a little kid, jumping off the couch, and knowing someone is waiting at the bottom to catch him. There's the feeling of danger, sure, but he knows what's at the bottom.
He wonders how long he's known. Long enough for that love, the love he has for Steve, to be something comfortable and warm in his chest.
Steve's hand rests on the space between them, palm up, outstretched. Eddie takes it and squeezes it.
And, though Steve is surely asleep, he thinks he might squeeze back.
Prompts here.
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luveline · 2 years
Note
Omg shy reader being really embarrassed about asking Eddie to go with her to get tattoos. Like, she can hardly get the question outta her mouth cause he's looking at her with his big brown eyes
fire request tysm <3 shy!fem!reader | 1.1k words
You’d made the appointment months ago and figured by now you would’ve told him. You’re getting a tattoo tomorrow and you want — need — Eddie to go with you. You know, for moral support. As in, you don’t think you can do it without his hand to squeeze.
You’re embarrassed about it for lots of reasons. You should’ve told him weeks ago and every hour that passes without telling him furthers the feeling. You’ve never even told him you wanted a tattoo.
You ditch your bike at the stoop of his home and run up the steps on toes, letting yourself in without knocking. Eddie or his uncle are both nowhere to be seen, so you walk through the living area and down to his room, knocking the ajar door tentatively.
You flinch as the door swings open, Eddie’s hand on the handle, his eyes bright, happy to see you. He must’ve just got out of the shower as his torso is still shirtless and damp with runoff from his wet hair.
You want to smooth the hair out of his eyes. You don’t, having found yourself frozen to the ground by his smug smile.
“What?” you ask, confused, because there’s no way you could’ve done something silly already. You’ve been here for five seconds.
“You look really fucking pretty,” he says, voice rough.
You smile, momentarily uninhabited by any self-doubt. His endless and earnest praise does that to you.
“You’re naked,” you say, instead of thanks, instead of you’re prettier.
“I’ve got boxers on.” And he does, checkered and blue. You realise in horror that you’ve just oggled his crotch and swing your gaze up, but the damage is done.
“You creep,” he says fondly.
“Sorry,” you murmur.
He shakes his head like he always does after one of your apologies, his nose scrunched up and his eyes squished by a smile. He takes the towel from around his neck and lets his head fall forward to scrub at his wet hair.
“What’s up?” he asks from upside down.
“Nothing. Did you just get up?” you ask.
“Half hour ago. Are you hungry?”
“No.”
“Did you eat?”
You sigh in exasperation and take the towel from his hands. Eddie straightens up to glare at you but swiftly stops when you bring the towel to his face and scrub at his hairline gently. “Yeah, I did. You don’t have to worry about me.”
“I do worry about you. Often.” Your thumb smooths over his cheek. “You’ll tell me if you’re hungry?”
You meet his eyes and he takes your wrist into his hand, waiting.
“Of course I will,” you say. Then, with a hesitant smile, “I actually have something to ask you.”
His fingers massage your arm restlessly and he nods. “Hit me with it.”
He looks his age. The entire time you’ve known Eddie you’ve always thought he looked older than he is because of his style, his hair. Just something about him that gives off an air of coolness, despite his absurd (and dirty) sense of humour and his admittedly dorky hobbies. But here looking at you the way he is, any intimidation you might feel about him melts away. He’s pretty and smiling and waiting patiently for you to talk like there’s nowhere he’d rather be, and suddenly you can’t get the words out.
You drop your eyes to the ink on his chest and part your lips to talk, your inhale ragged.
His own breathing changes in response. He sighs quietly. “Are you worried about asking me?” he asks.
“No,” you work out weakly.
His eyebrows jump up for a split-second.
You drop the towel around his shoulders and take a half step away from him so you’re not breathing on his face. He doesn’t let go of your wrist, only shifts his fingers to hold you as comfortably as possible, which is heart-turning.
“Come on, sweet thing.”
“Will you-“ His eyes are huge.
You cover your forehead with your hand, your pinky finger hiding his face from view.
Unending patience. His thumb sweeps broadly over the underside of your forearm. He gives you a little squeeze, as if to say, go on.
“I have… I made an appointment. Tomorrow. Will you come with me?”
“Like a doctor's appointment? Is everything okay?”
He pries your hand off of your forehead, eyes impossibly wider, softened by concern.
“No, not the doctors.” You pause, your eyes jumping between his, you can’t choose which one’s prettier, and it’s so hot in here you’re melting, and he’s getting frustrated with you — there, a crease between his eyebrows. He shakes your wrist mildly. He’s not frustrated at all, only worried.
“What for?” he asks.
“A tattoo,” you confess.
His concern turns to excitement quicker than you can blink.
“Fuck, really? What are you getting? Why didn’t you tell me? Where is it? I’ll drive you, babe, I don’t think you can bike home after.” His hands work up your arms, appraising even when the man himself is distracted by questions. His fingertips tap your throat, his palms over your collar. He moves one down to your chest. “Your heart is beating so fast. Are you okay?”
“You have really nice eyes,” you tell him quietly.
He gets a familiar look in said eyes, a spark that excites you and worries you simultaneously.
He’s laughing as he presses a kiss to your lips, his hands careful but firm as they wrap around you, holding you steady. Your face flushes with heat and you gasp fast and high like a hiccup.
“I have a huge crush on you,” he says, punctuating his admission with a smattering of quick, sweet nips along your bottom lip that wipe you out completely. How quickly he can turn you from a semi-functioning person to putty in his hands.
“You’re my boyfriend,” you manage to say, blinking.
He smirks. “I know.”
Eddie encourages your head ever so slightly to one side to kiss a line from the corner of your mouth to your ear, his parted lips leaving warm crescents over your skin. He rubs the tip of his nose against the skin before your ear and then stills. “Don’t think I’ve forgotten about the tattoo,” he murmurs, “We’re gonna talk all about it. But first…”
You waited weeks to tell him. What’s another hour?
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“All I have left”
Navia with a reader that bottles up their emotions
characters: Navia x gn!reader
warnings: angst/comfort
a/n: I wanted to write something for Navia again, so I cooked up this small scenario
Anyway, hope you enjoy!
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Navia
Throughout everything that happened, from her father getting wrongfully accused and dying in a duel, to the death of her closest companions, you stood by Navia’s side, rocksolid and unwavering no matter how bleak the future looked, there to help her get back on her own feet even when she wasn’t sure if she could continue herself, lending her a hand, a smile and a hug before encouraging her with carefully picked words… But while Navia knew she was lucky to have you continuing to remain at her side, she wasn’t naive enough to believe you weren’t affected by those events yourself, no matter how much of a brave face you put on.
So when all those years of downplaying your less desirable emotions finally seemed to catch up with you while dressing yourself in front of the mirror, preparing for the court case later that day, the least she could do was be there for you to lean on to.
“Nervous?” Navia couldn’t help herself from asking, having silently watched you struggle to button up your sleeves for some time now, your shaky hands making what was supposed to be a breeze so much more difficult. 
The moment her words left her mouth however, your head turned towards her as your hands froze in place, a bright smile plastered across your face as you quickly shook your head, letting out a small laugh that sounded too genuine to be real. “Why should I be nervous? I know he’s innocent and I’m sure once we get to tell his side of the story, Monsieur Neuvillette will quickly come to realize so as well.”
Even you, with your unmatched pokerface and numerous masks, hadn’t taken the news of your friend being arrested well, quickly volunteering to serve as his lawyer once the charges were actually put forward, and while you made a great job at hiding your distress at first, the closer the date of the hearings drew, the more cracks your masquerade revealed.
Without saying another word, Navia grabbed your wrist before quickly buttoning up your sleeve, only for her hands to move downwards and envelope yours once she was done, giving you a reassuring squeeze before looking back up at you, worry on her face. 
“Please know you’re not going through this alone. You don’t have to put on a brave face in front of me, lean on me the same way you let me lean on you”, she offered before taking one of her hands off of yours and trying to fix a messy spot of your hair, only for you to melt once her hand touched you, your smile slowly vanishing as exhaustion and fear settled on your face.
“I know there’s nothing to worry about, the charges are ridiculous even for someone as carefree as him… but I don’t know what to do on the off-chance he’s somehow declared guilty”, you hesitantly confessed, each of your words carefully leaving your mouth as you tried your hardest to stop your voice from cracking. 
“You two are all I have left.” No matter how hard you tried to fight them, at this point tears began running down your face, years of bottled up emotions pouring out as you quickly tried to hide your face, only for Navia to embrace you in a hug before you had a chance, slowly rubbing your back as well as the back of your head in an attempt to calm you down, all the while whispering reassurances into your ear.
When you finally felt relieved enough to pull back a bit, the image of your puffy eyes immediately bored itself into her mind. How much she wished she could help you out in court… if only Neuvillette hadn’t warned her from interrupting court cases at this point.
“I pray for life to become less eventful. After this I’m not setting a foot outside of Poisson for a while”, you uttered out half-jokingly before quickly straightening your back and trying your best to fix the damage your small slip-up caused to your hair and face, hoping you’d still look somewhat presentable afterwards, only to stop in your tracks when you felt one of your hands getting snatched up, causing your gaze to wander to the person holding your hand in hers.
“I’ve also had enough of the courtroom for the next few years, let’s take some time for ourselves afterwards.”
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ladykailitha · 5 months
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Grief (A Friend Indeed) Part 8
And we're back with this one! I think I will update this every Thursday until it's done. We actually don't have too much farther to go. But we'll get there.
Steve really goes through it this chapter. He's been burying his feelings for so long that they were an explosion waiting to happen. It happens here.
Pt 1 Pt 2 Pt 3 Pt 4 Pt 5 Pt 6 Pt 7
****
Steve liked Lauren but he was questioning her taste in friends. Though the first one had been a cousin on Danny’s side.
This was his fourth proposition for sex since he’d arrived. Apparently word had spread around that he was related to the Lexington Kincades and they all wanted a taste of that particular brand of honey.
Never mind he was here for a funeral. But Beth had so far been the most flagrant pursuer.
She was currently leaning on her elbows on the counter, showing off her ample breasts. Not that Steve had ever even been a breast guy. Sure they were great to look at but when it came to sex it was more about the person he was in bed with and less what they looked like. Though apparently dark curls played a bigger part than he would admit out loud.
“Come on,” Beth said. “It’s not as though I’m asking you out. I know you’re going to be gone by the end of the week. All I’m saying is to have a little fun.”
Steve sighed. “Look, I’m not interested in ‘fun’ right now. I’ve had more than enough ‘fun’. I’m looking for something deeper. Someone deeper.”
“You got anyone in mind?” she asked, batting her eyelashes and curling a lock of hair around her finger.
“Yeah, actually I do,” he said straightening up. “They are sweet and kind and makes me laugh. They are always there for me even when I didn’t even know I needed someone to talk to.”
Beth scoffed. “Sounds like your crushing on your best friend or something, Raven, Wren, Mavis or whatever her name was.”
Steve rolled his eyes. “Robin.” He crossed his arms and glared at her.
“Yeah, her,” Beth said. “I knew it was some bird name. Lauren was telling me all about her. It’s sounds like you’ve got bad for this girl, but she’s not interested in you. So why not take the edge off and get your dick wet.”
“One, it’s not Robin. Two, I’m here for a funeral. And three, I think we’re really close to something and I don’t want to ruin that with some fling.”
She batted her eyelashes. “She’d never know.”
“I would and that’s what matters.”
He stormed out of the kitchen, clenching and unclenching his fists.
*
Eddie was waiting for him on sofa after he had gone to the bathroom to scrub his face.
“Hey,” he greeted. “Is there any chance we could go somewhere? Just me and you.”
Eddie nodded. “Sure, Stevie. Why don’t we head to Lexington and see your grandma’s grave?”
Steve’s shoulders sagged in relief. “That’s great idea, Eds.”
Eddie hopped to his feet. “Just let me tell Uncle Wayne and Aunt Penny that we’ll be gone all day.”
Steve nodded. “I’ll meet you out at the car.”
“Right-oh!” he replied with a jaunty salute.
Steve shook his head fondly and walked out to the car. He leaned against the hood and watched through the window for Eddie.
He watched with his arms folded as Lauren and Beth seemed to exchange...well it was clear whatever it was, it was very heated.
Beth marched out of the house first without so much as backward glance at the house or Steve. Which was fine by him, if he was being honest.
Eddie came out shortly afterwards. “What’s her damage?” he asked jutting his chin at where Beth had stormed off to.
Steve shrugged. “To be honest, I don’t even fucking know, man. I really, really don’t.”
“You ready to go, then?” he asked.
Steve nodded and they slipped into the car. Steve would drive up and Eddie would drive back.
They were silent on the drive up, but it was a comfortable silence. Eddie could see that Steve had been wound up by something, but wasn’t ready to talk about it yet.
Steve drove slowly through cemetery looking for the Kincade family plot where Eileen and Montserrat Kincade’ mausoleum would be.
Soon it loomed in the distance and Steve stopped the car.
“Do you want me to go with you?” Eddie asked.
Steve nodded.
Eddie got out of the car and walked up with Steve to mausoleum and his eyes wandered over the names on the tombstones. There were a lot of Kincades but there were also a smattering of other names. Husbands of female Kincades allowed to be buried in the family plot.
Eddie saw one and burst out laughing. “Hey, Stevie, look! Another Munson!”
Steve stopped his slow trek to the grave and turned to see where Eddie was pointing. And sure enough there it was.
Nathaniel Munson
1921-1944
Abigail Kincade Munson
1922-1973
“Huh,” he said thoughtfully. “I think that was Montserrat’s, my grandpa’s, younger sister. Her husband died in the War.”
Eddie nodded. He wondered if his Munsons were related to Steve’s. That would be interesting to say the least.
“She never remarried?” he asked as they started walking again.
Steve shook his head. “And as I understand no one tried to marry her off again either. She never had kids. My mom always called her a vodka aunt. She would whisk them off on vacations to far off lands during their holiday breaks and just lived her life to the fullest.”
“Is that why you wanted an uncle to do the same for you?” Eddie asked.
“Yeah,” he murmured. “Mom doesn’t have any sisters, so I thought why not a vodka uncle, you know? Someone to take me places I’ve never seen. Always there for me when things got to difficult at home. But it never happened. Uncles Percy and Jasper never even called as far as I know.”
Eddie bumped their shoulders together. “Uncle Wayne can’t take you places you’ve never been, but I think he’d more than happy to take you into the Munson fold.”
Steve smiled at that. “Thanks, Eds. That means a lot.”
They finally reached the fucking tomb. Eddie wondered briefly if she had been mummified.
They had picked up flowers in town so they wouldn’t wilt. White lilies. No red roses for Steve. Not anymore.
Steve walked up to the sepulcher and laid the flowers down in front of it. He sank to his knees and just started to sob. It just all came out in a rush of emotion building up for the last twelve years. All the people he lost.
The lost of his friends even though they were objectively horrible people, they were his people once upon a time. The lost of his innocence to literal fucking monsters. The lost of his parents through neglect and disinterest. The lost of his relationships with Nancy and every other girl he’d been with since. The lost of his ability to sleep.
Eddie knelt down next to him and put his arms around him, just holding him as he cried.
Steve wasn’t sure how long he had knelt there sobbing into the grass with Eddie’s arms around him, but suddenly there was the sound of a car slowing to a stop behind them.
Eddie looked at his watch and then at the sepulcher behind him.
Shit.
They had by some coincidence come on the twelfth anniversary of Eileen’s death. Eddie instantly knew who was pulling up and if they didn’t get out of there soon, Steve was going to have a much worse day.
But he couldn’t just pull Steve away, not when he clearly needed this. He stood up and turned to face the man that had gotten out of the very fancy car.
To say he was shocked would be an understatement. Steve clearly took after his mother’s side. The man had the same hazel eyes and honeyed hair that Steve did. He had a neatly trimmed beard and a tailored suit.
“Hey!” the man called out. “Who are you and what are you doing here?”
Steve’s head snapped up. He scrambled to his feet, brushing the grass off his knees. When he straightened up the other man gasped.
“Steven?”
“Uncle Percy?” Steve asked, jaw dropping, eyes wide.
“Shit, Steven,” Percy huffed. “Your Uncle Jasper is literally behind me. He’s going to have a bitch fit if he sees you here.” He pulled out a business card and a pen. “Meet me here at four and we’ll talk then.”
Steve nodded taking the business card. He didn’t want to be yelled at by his other uncle either.
Steve and Eddie started walking to their car when another, even fancier car pulled up to the curb. Another man got out. He looked like Max, but was thinner, more ratlike in his appearance. He hurried over to the other side of the car, helping out a very pregnant blonde woman as a ten year old girl hopped out of the back seat.
As they got to the car they could hear the exchange.
“Who was that, Perce?” Uncle Jasper whined.
“Just a couple of college students doing some family history and got turned around,” Percy explained. “I got them sorted and on their way.”
Eddie leaned in close to Steve. “You hear that, we’re a couple of college students.”
Steve snickered. “The only two of the party who aren’t going to go to college.”
They giggled together as they got in the car and drove off.
****
Pt 9|Pt 10|Pt 11|Pt 12
Tag List: @spectrum-spectre @estrellami-1 @zerokrox-blog @artiststarme @swimmingbirdrunningrock @gregre369 @pyrohonk ​@a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @chaoticlovingdreamer @messrs-weasley @goodolefashionedloverboi @maya-custodios-dionach @val-from-lawrence @i-must-potato @danili666 @carlyv @rozzieroos @emly03 @wonderland-girl143-blog @justforthedead89 @bookworm0690 @itsall-taken @bookbinderbitch @redfreckledwolf @vecnuthy @littlewildflowerkitten @scheodingers-muppet @mira-jadeamethyst @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @gutterflower77 @genderless-spoon @hel-spawn @ellietheasexylibrarian @anne-bennett-cosplayer @mamafaithful @yikes-a-bee @dragonmama76 @flaming-reauxster
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AITA for lying about my hair routine?
So, I (25F) don't have a lot of things that I am proud of, appearance wise. But the one thing i AM proud of is my hair. I have these, like, really soft and pillowy brown curls. Like, big fluffy 3A-3B ringlets.
My hair has always been curly, but I was bullied and harassed as a kid for it because I am the only person in my family with curly hair. As such, no one knew how to help me take care of it, so I'd have people both in and outside of my family telling me that I looked like a slob, that I looked lazy, that I looked like I'd just rolled out of bed, etc.
My hair WAS frizzy and messy, but whenever I tried to do something about it, I'd have people tell me I was just trying to be special, and that I knew it looked better straight, so I should just get over it and do the thing that I knew would make it look good. I grew up in Mormon country, so the pressure to look "professional and respectable" (read: conventionally attractive, thin, and white) was very heavy. I either straightened my hair or put it in a tight braid for about a decade before finally going to a curly hairdresser, having her cut it all off and starting fresh some 4 years ago.
Now that the damaged hair is fully gone and I know how to take care of it all, my curls are flourishing. I can't go anywhere without someone complimenting them. It's really lovely.
Now to the part where I might be an asshole. A lot of the people I grew up with (family, my mom's friends, people that go to my parent's church) have also noticed my hair, and are always asking me about my routine.
Now that the natural hair movement has sort of taken off, suddenly the women that got on my case about looking "lazy" and "ratty" and "homeless" all want curls, even if (especially if, in a lot of cases) they don't have a naturally curly hair texture.
Like my mom, for example, has had thick, gorgeous straight hair her entire life--like, it could barely hold a curl even if you used an iron and gelled that shit in place. And she was always complimented for it! But now that the women on her instagram page are showing off their curly girl methods, it's the only thing she can think about, and she talks about how jealous she is of my hair all. The. Time.
So, it usually goes like this. Someone I know compliments my hair and asks me about my routine. I try to laugh it off, then they ask for products, and I tell them that I just use normal head and shoulders shampoo from walmart. They ask me what method I use, I say that I just wash it, sleep on it, then brush it out in the morning--the same routine they always told me to use as a kid. And they seethe, because that's what they've BEEN doing, and it clearly isn't getting the same results. And I just go "well, I guess it has more to do with your natural texture :)" and move on.
I told my sister about this, and she told me I was being an asshole--that these ladies have moved on from their weird prejudice, so I should let it go and explain what I do and why it probably wouldn't work for them. I know it's petty. I know the nice thing to do would be to explain how my hair texture works and so on. But I take a lot of satisfaction in watching these women be jealous of something that they used to shame me for, so I'm okay with being petty. I guess I know I'm an asshole, but am I justified in it?
What are these acronyms?
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suredealsweb · 9 months
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How to Use Straightener Without Damaging Hair
Unlock the secrets of how to use straightener without damaging hair and effortlessly straight Hair Are you tired of frizzy, unruly hair? Do you dream of achieving sleek, straight locks without causing damage? Look no further! In this comprehensive guide, we will unveil the key techniques and tips on how to use straightener without damaging hair. Whether you’re a novice or an experienced user,…
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Day Off | Yandere Blue Exorcist
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You speedily walked through the hallways of the True Cross Academy, holding you’re clipboard under your arm. Trying to ignore the green-haired demon that comically kept pressing his face against the windows. You let out a sigh as you pulled out your magic keys to easily avoid an even longer walk to the cram school. If only to hinder the beady green eyes that refused to stop. Following. You.
Opening the door to the eccentric-colored hallway. You went on your way opening the door to everyone’s favorite Ex-Wires. Holding your fist up to the door, you moved to knock only to be stopped by the door swinging inward. Opened by your junior half-demon who was smiling with his pointy canines.
“Rin! Sit back in your seat!” 
Rin ignored him leaning on the doorway, tail exposed and swinging without restraint. 
“(Y/n)-Senpai! Are you teaching today?! Are you monitoring!? Are you going to stay long–agh!?”
He squealed as he was flung back by the minimally dressed Shura Kirigakare who replaced him as she leaned against the doorway. Smirking she purposefully blocked your way into the classroom. 
“Sit back down kid. The adults are talking,” she leaned close to your face before continuing. “So (Y/n), have you come to take up my offer?”
She fiddled with her jacket putting it out of the way of her minimalistic top, accentuating her chest. You let out another exhausted sigh as you backed away ducking under her arm and stepping over her leg to make your way into the classroom. You turned your head to her, speaking in a hushed voice.
“Come on Kirigakure, you know I’m far too busy to play with you.”
She straightened up, leaning against the door and keeping her head turned to the unoccupied hallways. Noticing her quietness you walked to the podium where Yukio was waiting nervously fiddling with the papers he had. 
“(Y/n)-Senpai, it’s good to see you!” Yukio coughed. “Thank you for coming in again, I really appreciate it.”
“Of course. I’m always happy to fill in for my boys.”
Yukio’s face lit up in a blush before quickly composing himself with a push of his glasses. You chuckled at his nervousness before watching the exorcist scurry out of the room. Passing the first-class exorcist, words were exchanged before he left the room. 
Turning to the remaining class you clapped your hands, drawing their attention as if it wasn’t already on you.
“Alright, kids. Let’s get to work!” 
______________________________________________________________
“Come on, Kids! Try to land a hit!” 
Kirigakure yelled from her desk watching as you casually defended all their attacks from behind the podium. The moment Yukio left you decided to change the lesson to one on damage control–an easy lesson on your part who was she to judge? Who was she kidding, she couldn’t think negatively of you in the slightest. It killed her to know at the mere mention of her name from your mouth she would blush as furiously as she did before. 
“S-see I told you guys they were super strong!” Rin gushed to his classmates who were similarly panting in exhaustion from their separate areas of cover. 
“N-no kidding! I can’t even figure out what their doing!?” Bon yelled over a barrage of icicles that were shooting in their direction. 
“M-maybe they're one of those descendants–eek like the ones Kamiki-chan was talking about?” Shiemi squealed from the protective roots of her familiar. 
“I-i don’t know of a demon that controls a bunch of elements–hot! Like that!” Konekomaru continued to shield himself faltering as waves of heat came off the ground underneath him. 
Kirigakure chuckled, at the familiar interaction. Seeing everyone who fights you squabble to find out your power. Underneath her amusement, something snaked, that similar negative emotion birthed for everyone who held your attention away from her. Summoning a can of beer from the portal on her chest, she slicked one back with a sneer on her tongue. 
“When are you gonna stop playin’ with them!?” 
The slurred yell came from her gaining a desired reaction. Your narrowed gaze on her before switching back to the blue-flamed student hurling in your direction. With no problem at all you took down the half-demon, pinning him underneath you with a hand on his chest. 
You sucked your teeth quietly scolding the boy with a smile as his flames died down. The image burned Shura with envy. Even with the knowledge of your parental relationship, it did nothing to soothe the anger that came with such a position with anyone else. And in an act of stifled defiance, she flung the can at the board directly above you and Rin. Once again you looked at her with a piercing gaze before helping Rin up to his feet. To feel her heart swell at the annoyance in your eyes was a despicable feeling but one that she craved as you opened your mouth to speak. But of course, your phone rang and with a smirk, you rallied the students.
“Come kids, they need some extra hands.” 
_________________________________________________________
Rin Okumura was on a role if he did say so himself. Your watchful gaze on him while fighting really fired him up (pun intended). The sheer pride of working effectively alongside his team, using the moves and lessons he had with you couldn’t make him happier. 
“Here I go!” 
Calling his friends and his brother, he took the lead withdrawing his sword to severely debilitate the demon of immense size. With the adrenaline still running in his veins he continued to slice and dodge the demon's attacks; drawing its attention as Bon and Konekomaru recited their scriptures. Fearfully Shima aided in Rin’s distraction, while Kamiki and Shiemi continued to evacuate anyone nearby this time being conscious of the infrastructure that could be saved. Rin couldn’t be happier. Laying demons to rest with his friends all with (Y/n) watching! Watching…But you weren’t watching. Your eyelids were downcast as your mouth moved. Looking into the distance, your mouth moved to speak with Kiragakure who was insistently leaning, rubbing all over you as you sat on a rooftop. He’d never been more jealous of her boobs in his life!
But this wasn’t right! For all the limited times he gets to spend with you he never got to show you his agency on the field. He’s sure Yukio did because he always got to work with the ones he wanted. But this was his chance to show you, to show you that he was strong and that he could do this. But he couldn’t do that if you didn’t look at him!
“Rin! Pay attention!”
Too little too late Rin was trapped fighting the pressure of the demon's giant appendage as it bore down on him. Even still his azure-colored eyes looked at you through the claws of the demon, only to spy your look of bated concern. He did not like the look on your face it made him sick. He wanted your attention on him but not like this. 
“L-look at–” he buckles under the weight. Nearly being squashed before snapping awake with a burning flame of passion. 
“LOOK AT ME!” 
At his scream, he rocketed out from the weight of the demon swinging his sword as he shot up its arms. Continuing to carry out the momentum of the slice he went right for its head ultimately bringing an end to the demon’s reign as its designated scripture was read. With a monumental crash and a mountainous pile of rubble, he triumphantly stood knowing full well you were smiling on from your perch. 
Jumping down with Kirigakure you smiled at the collapsing students. 
“Good job kids! Now, who wants ice cream? It’s on me!”
___________________________________________________
“Thank you for the food!” 
The students happily munched and licked at their ice cream. You happily kicked your feet as you sat separately, sucking on your own popsicle as you leaned against a nearby wall both your sides being occupied by the Okumura twins. In front of you was Kirigakure who refused to keep her distance anymore and had settled for leaning herself on your lap; watching the ice treat hang languidly within your mouth as if waiting for something to drop.
“Of course kids! I don’t mind rewarding you all for your hard work!” Shima high-fived Konekomaru and Bon while Shiemi and Kamiki nodded to one another. Kirigakure couldn’t help it smirking into the skin of your lap.
“Ha but you still caused millions~in~damage~” 
“Ughh!” “Come on!” “We just can’t win can we?!”
Her teasing tone resulted in a collective groan, relishing in the comical glumness that fell over the group. Looking up at you, your pouting lips were apparently emphasized even more by the playful slap at the top of her head by your popsicle. She stuffed her face into her lap warming your lap with blood rushing to her cheeks. You took the time to reassure the group telling them how many other Exorcists have similar problems. 
“Thank you again. I can already tell they’ve already gotten significantly better at damage control.” Yukio chimed. Looking over at his brother who shamelesslywas leaning against your other shoulder while he and Shiro continued to eat their ice cream cup, “I doubt I could have taught them any better…if anything at all.” 
“Hey!”
You chuckled as the twins glared and begin to bicker with one another. Sucking on your treat you enjoyed the familiar sound before stopping to look up at the incoming presence. 
“Mephisto.”
“(Y/n)!”
“M-mephisto!?” Rin’s screechy call of surprise had everyone snapping in the direction of the flamboyant principal. Twirling his umbrella by the handle he continued to give his pointy smile, much to many’s chagrins.
“On your day off you’d spend it working? I can hardly believe it, with the way you run out at the end of your workday.” 
Mephisto kept smiling but the comment was grating. You only rolled your eyes, licking at your treat. 
“Working with you in an office for twelve hours is completely different than watching the kids on missions. Besides,” leaving the popsicle in your mouth as you let your hands ruffle the twin’s raven hair, “anything for my boys!” 
Said boys blushed profusely, as you continued to muss up their hair nervously pushing at their glasses and turning away when you released your hold on them. Kiragakure glared as she moved to tighten her hold on your waist, nuzzling against you to glare at the purple-haired demon. 
Mephisto’s eyes twitched and lightly chuckled bringing the hood of his umbrella to cover his body. The twins reeled back while Kirigakure found she was no longer squeezing you but the air in which you previously resided. Looking up with a glare she found you were casually being held  in Mephisto’s arms by your waist. 
“Well, we best be on our way! So much work to get done.” With a dip of his hat and a dramatic swing of his umbrella, he was about to make another dramatic exit only hesitating when Kirigakure yelled. 
“Oi! Isn’t it pretty tyrannical to kidnap them on their day off!?” 
“Oh? I didn’t say I’d make them work! Now I bid you adieu.”
He snickered tightening his grip around your waist as he made a final twirl of his umbrella. Letting the umbrella flop to the ground as you both made an exit, leaving Kirigakure to silently fume with Yukio and Rin who glared at the remaining object.
______________________________________________________
“You know she’s right. Why bother me on my day off, despite what it was I was enjoying myself.”
You were draped on his lap leaning on the arms of his floating chair as you accusingly pointed your popsicle in his face with a mock pout on your face. He smiled widely flashing his pearly canines as he played with the collar of your shirt specifically the area where the back of your neck was. 
“Aww, but don’t you want to spend the day with me? We always have such fun!”
He snatched the end of your popsicle in his mouth smiling devilishly at the scrunching of your nose as he ate your treat. His eye contact was broken with you as the popsicle was pried from his mouth and taken into another's.
“And don’t forget me, don’t you want to spend time with me?”
Amaimon interjected leaning into your face from the top of the armchair, only for Mephisto to grip his brother’s face to push him away.
“Yes! Amaimon you too or whatever. So how would you like to spend the rest of your day off with us me of course.”
You released an exhausted sigh before shaking your head as a smile spread across your face. 
“Alright well…”
185 notes · View notes
redwinetalks · 10 days
Text
I Won’t Let You Sink
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Chapter 2
Word Count: 6.1k
Pairing: Finnick X Fem!OC
Warnings: slight self harm, angst, fluff kinda, protective Finnick, the Capitol sells them unfortunately, hurt/comfort, pre-canon, young Finnick and Silk, Silk AND Finnick pov, Silk doesn’t understand that’s she’s crushing on Finnick,
Summary: Silk is back a the Capitol and she’s in for a rough night! She’s real stressed and Finnick tries to comfort her teehee.
*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°
~ Silk ~
Only a few weeks have passed and I find myself back at the Capitol. It feels too soon. Like the days sped up so I couldn’t even try to feel the happiness I found back at home. I only was given a few days before any thought of peace was stripped away from my arms.
I feel greatly exposed while standing on the small platform in the middle of a room filled with mirrors. Everyone who’s here to help make me “beautiful” is just staring at me. I wish I could sink through the floor.
My stylist, Bijou, is filled with much more excitement than I am as she rips the last wax strip off my leg. I purse my lips at the pain.
“Last one! Now you’re all silky smooth. Just like your name!” She smiles widely and laughs at her unoriginal pun. I try to smile back at her but I can only muster up a slight twitch of my lips. She doesn’t seem to notice. “Now, you’re going to get your makeup and hair done, then you can just step into your dress! Oh, you’re going to love it! I worked extra hard on this one. I have to make you even more eye catching.”
Bijou has always been very kind just maybe a bit oblivious. She probably doesn’t even know why I’m supposed to stand out more than usual tonight. I wonder if she’d be sick to her stomach like I am if she knew what was happening. But maybe she does know, and that makes it even more gut wrenching.
She continues her rambling while the makeup teams tries to bring back the life drained from my face.
“You know, I’ve always liked District 8. I mean, yes it is very dreary, but your people created the beautiful fabric used to make the dress! And the clothes you all wear look so bright and colorful. It’s such a shame the place has to look so drab.” Her words actually cause me to let out a small laugh. I don’t think I’ve ever heard anyone speak nicely about 8, especially in the Capitol.
“Thank you, Bijou. That’s very kind.” She smiles widely again and I notice the little jewels on her canines. The people here seem to want to bejewel everything.
I can tell that the purpose of my makeup was to makeup me look more innocent. They used an excessive amount of blush and made my lips look quite pouty. They straightened my hair and curled it just slightly at the ends. A few strands are tied up in the back with a delicate bow. If I didn’t know the purpose of this look was to make me have more “doll like” features, maybe I would like it. But I’m just thinking of the sick creatures who desire me looking like this.
Bijou leads me back to the small platform to put on my dress. She was right, the fabric is beautiful. The light pink dress has a corset bodice adorned with pearls and floral lace skirt that goes to my ankles. It leaves my shoulders exposed which must be why the makeup team made them look so shiny.
I wonder if they were asked to make me look specifically like this, as if by request. Am I wanted to be in pink because it’s someone’s favorite color? Are my lips supposed to look this pouty so they can seem more irresistible? These thoughts fill me with a sickening feeling of dread. I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to look at myself again without wondering what predatory thoughts fill those who see me. Is this how I’ve always been thought of? Someone who can be easily taken advantage of and damaged?
“Darling? Come now.” I quickly turn to Bijou as she takes my hand. “You have a short meeting with Snow before you go to the party.” I look at her with a panicked expression. I didn’t know I was to be meeting with him. “Oh don’t look so nervous! He’s only a little intimidating.” She giggles and leads me out the room.
I walk a few steps behind her, my uneasiness slowing down my pace. I know he’ll probably only give me more information about tonight, but that thought does nothing to ease my anxiety. The corset doesn’t help either.
The walk to wherever we’re meeting is incredibly daunting. Part of me hopes the walk never ends, but the other part can’t wait to get this over with. It’s not even like I’ll be filled with relief once I’m done talking with Snow. I’ll immediately have another thing to worry about. It’s an endless cycle of horrors.
“Here we are!” Bijou stops and opens a door. I struggle to make myself move. “Darling?” She looks at me with her cheery face, but there’s a hint of confusion.
“Sorry, I…” I trail off. She doesn’t understand and I can’t explain it to her. There is no one here that I can express my true feelings to. There is no one to comfort me. I just have to push through on my own.
Apprehensively, I walk through the doorway and there he is. He sits in a large, dark leather chair with his back facing me. Drink in hand, his arm drapes off the armrest and on the floor I can see his foot tapping. Not impatiently, but as if he’s counting the tempo of a song stuck in his head.
The room isn’t at all inviting. What I’ve seen from the Capitol’s style so far has been over the top and extravagant, but this is much different. Everything seems to be curated to Snow’s image, very poised and crisp. He is tasteful, not at all gaudy, and it makes everything intimidating.
Unlike the beginning of his first visit, he isn’t ushering me to sit. He’s letting me take my time to walk around to the chair directly across from him. It feels like I’m walking to my death and the fearfulness radiating off my body is adding to his entertainment. I try to look more composed and unbothered by his presence, but I know it falls flat. He can see me inside and out. I am wrapped around his finger and it’s agonizing.
“Miss Fabelle, you look lovely. Thank you for meeting with me to discuss tonight’s events.” He gives me a small, cunning smile as I sit. He gestures to an envelope on the small table beside my chair. “That, my dear, contains all the details you will need. You are to be on your best behavior and arrive to your room at your scheduled time.” I tensely nod at him. He looks directly into my eyes and I grit my teeth, resisting the urge to talk back to him. It won’t do me any good. Snow does a good job at staying calm and collected, but it’s not hard to see the true evil that’s inside him. He is successfully sucking the life from me.
“Yes, sir.” He stands and then walks to the window behind me. I shut my eyes and put my hand on my chest to try and calm my breathing. The smell of roses fills my senses.
“That’ll be all, Miss Fabelle. I do hope you enjoy tonight’s festivities, but remember dear girl, you are here on business. This party isn’t for your entertainment.” I stand and nervously straighten out my dress.
“Yes, President Snow. I understand.” And I am thankfully dismissed from this suffocating room, on to the next horror.
*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°
~ Finnick ~
The amount of linen my stylist chose to put me in isn’t at all ideal considering the weather. It’s still a bit chilly out and the thin cloth makes me feel practically naked, well that and the fact that my shirt is barely even buttoned.
It’s only been an hour and I’m already fed up with the amount of women that have all but drooled on me. Women that are probably ten or twenty years older than me. It will never not be completely disgust me, the Capitol’s obsession with teenagers that have been forced to murder. Getting aroused by that is fucking psychotic.
“Finnick! It is such a pleasure to see you again.” A woman I faintly remember from one of the last parties walks towards me. Her bright orange feather dress is practically blinding.
“The pleasure is all mine, sweetheart.” I wink and kiss her hand. I’d say she’s blushing but it could just be all of the makeup she’s wearing.
“You’re always so charming. I can’t wait to see how you’ll charm me later tonight.” She whispers in my ear and then gives it a swift lick. Her boldness almost makes me jump back. I could gag, but then I’d ruin the facade.
“C’mon now, don’t get me all riled up here.” I whisper back, thankful she can’t see my face. I know the look in my eyes isn’t at all believable. “Save it for later.” I smirk at her before walking away.
I walk towards a table of drinks and finger foods. I’m gonna need to down a bottle of something to get through his night. I see her as she goes to grab a glass of wine at the opposite end of the table. Silk. Wine seems to be her drink of choice. She almost goes for the red, but pauses and then reaches for the rosé. Probably a wise decision considering the color of her dress. The pink really looks stunning on her.
I didn’t expect to see her again so soon, but there she is. They didn’t even give her time to get her bearings before dragging her back over here. She looks like she’s glowing. I’m sure part of that effect is from her stylist, but not all of it. There’s something about her that makes her shine. In a way that’s soft and ethereal, like moonlight. If she is the moon, Silk pulls me into her world like the tides. And I go willingly.
I’m not sure what it was, but when I first saw her I felt immediately drawn in. When she was standing away from the crowd, finally getting away from the vultures, I felt like I had to meet her. It could’ve been my only chance. And she was nothing if not astonishing. I didn’t have enough time with her. I was left wanting more, but there was nothing I could do since I had other obligations. I’m not as busy tonight which is a relief. I may have more time to get to know her.
I walk towards her, looking around to make sure no one is itching for my attention.
“Hello again, Silk Fabelle.” She flinches, not unlike when I first met her, but it’s even more noticeable this time. “You know, I really don’t mean to startle you with every greeting.” I laugh but her expression doesn’t change a bit.
“It’s fine.” Something is off. The air around her is different.
“What’s going on, doll face?” She looks at me and glares. Shit. Why did I say that? Of course calling her by what the Capitol has deemed her as would be triggering. I wish I would think before I fucking speak. She has a way of making me so nervous, something others can’t do so easily. I’m usually more grounded. I’ve gotten so good at this confident facade of flirtations that it’s almost as easy as breathing. But with her…I feel it melting away. Like I’m having to relearn how to communicate.
“Don’t call me that.” She turns away from me and looks at her glass. I swear I can see tears brimming her eyes.
“I..I’m sorry I wasn’t thinking. I should’ve known not to.” She doesn’t look back up at me. I reach out my hand to her arms and she backs away slightly.
“What do you want, Finnick?” Her tone isn’t malicious, it sounds defeated. When she finally looks back up at me I can almost feel my heart breaking. She looks so empty.
“I just…are you okay?” And then it hits me. They’ve started selling her. But It isn’t her time to start. It can’t be. She just finished the games, they can’t be moving this fast with her.
“Just trying to make it through the night.” She gives me a pitiful smile. “You should go enjoy it while you can.” She starts to walk away, but I can’t let her leave yet.
“Silk, please.” She stops and turns back towards me. I wish I could embrace her and tell her it’ll be okay. But I can’t and it won’t. There’s nothing I can do to stop what Snow has planned for her.
“I’ve got places to be, Finnick. People to meet. Maybe another time we can finally have a full conversation.” Sorrow fills her voice. I watch her walk away and the pull that I feel from her just gets stronger. I want to be wrong. I wish that she could just be left alone, but I know how her night will go. I know that in the next few hours she will have yet another trauma. Another nightmare that will wake her in the night. But I refuse to let her suffer alone.
*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°
~ Silk ~
The man that bought my time for the night finally leaves and I’m left on the bed, still face down. Maybe if I lay here long enough I can melt away. I could just become a decayed mess that was left here to rot. My skin burns and I can feel the tears trickle across my face and onto the bedspread. I finally sit up to cover myself with the sheets and make my way the bathroom. I only make it two steps before my legs give out on me and I drop to the ground. I just continue with a slow, pathetic crawl. I can’t imagine what I look like, but the thought is enough to make me vomit once I reach the toilet. Once I finish I continue to sit there and let go of the sobs that I was holding in. I want to scream until my throat turns raw and bleed, but I have to suck it all up. The punishment that my mom would have to pay the price for constantly floats around in my thoughts. It torments me.
I finally try to stand up and I brace myself against the counter. I stare just below the mirror for what feels like hours until I shakily raise my head to look at myself. I don’t even know who is staring back at me. She’s looks broken and filled with dread. I see only a shell of a human being. I feel so infuriated with what she has just gone through. What she has been going through. Before I realize, I grab a candle that was sitting on the counter and throw it at the mirror. My hands are shaking as the shattered glass falls into the sink. If only that had helped release some of my built up tension. All I can do is stand there and look at the mess.
I’m startled by the door to my room opening and I wrap myself tighter in the sheet. An avox enters to fix up the bed, but she notices me cowering in the bathroom doorway. She looks at the broken glass and doesn’t seem phased at all. I feel guilty for her having to clean it up, but hopefully she can forgive me all things considered.
She stands just outside the bathroom door once she’s done making up the bed. As if she’s ushering me to leave so she can start clearing away my breakdown. I hesitantly walk past her back into the bedroom. I see a change of clothes on the dresser for me and since she’s shut away in the bathroom I go ahead and put them on.
I don’t think I can lay again in that bed, let alone sleep in it, so I just sit down on the floor by the loveseat. I feel quite pathetic. I feel angry. I feel like I could burst at the seams, just like my dress did. I wonder how Bijou would feel knowing the dress she worked so hard to make is now ripped up on the floor.
“I don’t care. I don’t care about the mirror that I shattered. I don’t care about her. I don’t care about anyone or anything here. I don’t fucking care.” The saliva built up from my tears and sick spit out slightly as I whisper angrily to myself. Without realizing, I’m also sinking my nails into my shoulders while holding myself. I’ve grown to do that a lot now. Mostly when my anger and sadness builds up. The sight of me is a disgusting mess, I’m sure of it. I didn’t used to feel this weak and despondent. I used to be confident and full of so much life. I was passionate about caring for my district, but I tried to always remain positive. I tried to stay hopeful. But I’m scared that’s all gone. That I’ve lost who I was and I don’t know if I’ll be able to find her again. She has sunken into the abyss and there is no one to bring her back to the surface.
The avox walks out of the bathroom finally and looks at me on the floor. She looks like she has a some pity in her eyes, but it quickly fades away when she turns to leave the room. As she opens the door I can see a figure standing in the hall. Is there going to be someone else? Am I not done? My nails sink farther further into shoulders and I stare into the hallway, not even trying to hide the panic in my eyes.
The avox walks away and I can see that it isn’t someone here to use me, it’s Finnick. But why is Finnick here? How does he even know that I’m here. I know I didn’t even try to hide my misery, but how did he find me?
“Silk..?” He looks at me with that familiar softness in his green eyes. “Is it okay if I come in” he speaks in a whisper.
“How’d you know I was in here?” I say quickly as if I’m accusing him of something.
“I bribed an avox into pointing me to your room.” I can tell he was about to use his suave way of speaking to lighten the mood, but it isn’t the time. He knows to be serious.
“Why?” I say so plainly. He doesn’t have to be here. He doesn’t know me. There isn’t anything to gain from being here. But he looks at me with hurt, but it’s hurt for me. Is it so insane to wonder why anyone would want to be here with me right now?
“Because, I know what happened here. And I said I didn’t want you to have to go through this alone. I meant that. Especially with this.” And the sadness in his eyes is back. The same look from when we met. The illusion has faded and I can see that this is what is causing him to sink. I shouldn’t be surprised by the fact that he is going through this too, I just didn’t think about how many others Snow is forcing to sell their bodies.
I nod at him and move over on the floor, allowing him to come in. He sighs and smiles sadly at me but I look down and continue to hold onto myself. Like I’m scared I’ll float away. He walks in slowly to not cause any sudden stress and then sits next to me. I move over a bit more. It’s not like he’s done anything wrong, but I’m scared to be close to him. I’m scared to be close to anyone. Just him knowing what happened in here is terrifying to me. What if this gets me in trouble? What if it leads back to Snow?
“How…how are you doing?” I huff out a laugh. Like the audacity of the question makes it humorous.
“Fucking fantastic.” I then turn to look at and I know he sees the anger in my face. His entire demeanor shifts from worry to guilt.
“I’m sorry. That’s not what I meant. I just-“
“I know.” I cut him off, “I’m sorry. I know you’re just trying to help.” I look back at him and wish he could just read my mind. The words feel too difficult to say. “It’s just…” I hesitate, trying not to start crying. “…they took my girlhood…that was mine. No one is supposed to just take that from you. But they snatched it up with no remorse. I thought that I’d get to go home. That when I won, I’d get to go home and be with my mom and live my life. I knew I’d still have to relive the pain again every year when mentoring. I knew I would have guilt and nightmares and all of these horrible memories, but I’d at least be home. But I can never go back home. I am trapped in this hell forever.” I no longer try to stop my tears from falling. My shoulders ache from me grasping on for dear life. It’s all too much and I hate it.
“Silk” he tries to calm me. He tries to move my arms.
“Don’t touch me.” I snap at him. I don’t mean to, it just comes out and he immediately withdraws himself.
“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have. Just, please, you’re hurting yourself.” I shakily remove my hands from my shoulders and instead mess with the hem of my shirt. I try to tell him I’m sorry, but I can’t speak. I want his comfort but I’m too panicked. My breathing is rapid and he can tell. He shifts just slightly closer, but he’s cautious to not get too close.
“Hey, just look at me. You’re safe. You’re okay, I’m with you. No one else is coming through that door. Just keep looking at me and follow my breathing.” He takes deep breaths in and out and I try to follow. It’s shaky, but my breathing calms down. I keep looking at him and try to ground myself. “That’s good. You’re okay, yeah?” He gives me a small, reassuring smile and I nod. I timidly reach out my hand. I want to touch him. To feel that he is real. He reaches back to hold my hand, but not before intently looking at me to get the okay. His thumb rubs my palm at the pace that he was using to calm my breaths. I close my eyes and sigh deeply. “Let’s go get you cleaned up, okay?”
I nod and stand up, still holding his hand. His other hand is ready to help if I stumble. When we walk into the bathroom he lets out a small laugh.
“Oh, yeah...I broke the mirror.”
“I can see that. Good work.” He looks at me and smiles. He inspects to counter to make sure there’s no leftover glass, and then helps me up to sit. He grabs two washcloths, one for my face and one for my arms, and runs them under warm water. He hands one to me and I start cleaning up as much of the makeup and dried tears as I can while he tends to my shoulders. The focus that Finnick puts into cleaning my small cuts is so caring and gentle. I can’t help but look at him. He looks so concentrated and beautiful. Like he was carved out of marble, and then I see his dimples forming from the smirk he’s giving me.
“Like what you see?” I roll my eyes and turn my face away from his.
“You’re annoying” His face looks dramatically hurt and shocked.
“You’ve wounded me. I’m heartbroken.” I can’t help my lips from twitching. “There’s that smile, pretty girl.” I turn my head back to face him and sigh. He is so unusual to me. There is so much more to him than what meets the eye. His cockiness and flirtatious spirit is just one of playful banter. It’s not who he truly is. It’s his cover for the Capitolite, but besides that it’s just to amuse. To lighten the mood. The real Finnick is much more complicated and I’m so compelled to uncover his true character.
“Why are you doing this? Being so nice to me.” He rolls his eyes.
“Why do you keep asking me that?” He laughs lightly and I shrug.
“I just don’t understand. You just met me yet you keep being so kind to me. You keep going out of your way and there is nothing to gain.” He sighs and looks down at the washcloth in his hand.
“Remember when you helped that kid in the arena? That girl from 2 got his leg pretty good with a spear and you could’ve just left him there. Let someone else find him. But you helped him up, led him to a place where he could hide, and tried your best to clean up his wound. You even gave him some of your food before you left. You didn’t know him. You had nothing to gain from that, but you did it anyway.” I remember him. He was so small. I didn’t want to help him, I wanted to ignore everything around me. I wanted to shut off my emotions, but he was just a little boy. He didn’t deserve to be left in mud, waiting for someone to kill him. And I knew that if I saw his picture at night, it would’ve been my fault. That wouldn’t have been survival. That would’ve been inhumane.
“He was from 4. He was yours.”
“Yeah..he was a good kid. You didn’t treat him like a tribute you had to kill, you treated him like a person. He was able to survive longer because of you. Your kindness, it meant something to me.” I look down at my hands. I don’t even know if that was kindness. I did it to save myself from the guilt. But, I guess sometimes that’s what kindness is. Maybe that’s why Finnick is here tonight.
“I guess I’ve been having a hard time trusting people’s motives.”
“For good reason.” He lets out a sarcastic laugh. “Come on pretty girl, let’s run you a hot shower.” He holds my hand as I hop off the counter and then goes to start the water. He holds his hand under it to feel for the perfect temperature. He decides everything is ready and steps towards the door. At first, him caring for me made me feel a bit uneasy, but I guess it’s not too much. It is better than doing this all alone.
“Alright, I’ll be just outside if that’s okay. I don’t have to stay, though.” His sweet green eyes look into mine. I can tell he wants to, like he wants to protect me.
“You can. I think..that’d be nice.”
The warm water washes over me and I run my hands through my hair. I wish I could easily scrub away the events of today. The most I can do is scrub away the feeling of disgust. I guess this is supposed to be my future routine. Every few months I go up to the Capitol for a day or two, go through hell, then go home. I’m sure that’s how they think of it. So simple. I can easily get over it. How is someone supposed to get over having their body taken advantage of? They’re not, but I’m not thought of an actual person here. Just a toy.
This is happening to Finnick too. He said he knew what happened. He knew how to calm me and what to do to help. This is all so hard to come to terms with. Finnick won three years ago at just fourteen. Did Snow make him start immediately, like me? If so, he’s been doing this for so long already. All on his own. No one to soothe him after the torture. How is he still standing? Has he become numb to it? That thought doesn’t make it any better.
From how I have felt tonight, I cannot imagine what Finnick felt his first night. Fourteen years old and left to suffer in silence. I can only hope that they weren’t so horrible to him that young.
I could have stayed in that shower for hours and still wouldn’t have felt completely clean. I dry myself off and I’m relieved I can barely see what I look like because of the broken mirror. I don’t know how I’d feel seeing myself naked right now, but I know it wouldn’t be positive. It’d probably set me off again.
When I’m finished getting dressed I walk back into the bedroom. I see Finnick waiting patiently on the loveseat and he smiles when he sees me. He has such a beautiful smile. His dimples and the creases near his eyes make him look so warm and inviting. I sit on the opposite side of the couch, keeping some space between us. I think I’m beginning to trust him, but he still makes me nervous. That feeling I don’t quite understand. It’s not necessarily negative, it’s just…different.
“Feeling a bit better?” I nod and wrap my arms around my legs, giving myself a sense of security. The worst of the night is over, but it’s hard to feel at ease.
“I think so. Thank you, by the way. For being here and being patient.”
“You don’t have to thank me, sweet girl.”
“Maybe, but I want to. Your kindness means something to me.” I smile softly and he looks down at his hands, blushing slightly. I feel like I can see him more clearly. Like I’ve uncovered a portion of his mystery. So much has happened to him tonight too, but I haven’t seen him upset. Like he holds it in. Like he wants to care for everyone else first.
“Finnick?” He hums in response immediately. Ready to help in any way I’d need, but I don’t need anything from him right now. I just want him to know I would do for him what he has done for me. “How are you feeling?” He shakes his head, brushing me off.
“I’m alright. You don’t need to worry about me.” He smiles, but I know this one isn’t as genuine. He is hiding his pain and my heart aches for him.
“You don’t have to tell me anything, but just like you have worried over me, I am going to worry over you.” He turns his head to the side, looking out the window at the city below us. He stays that way for a minute and I give him his time.
“They were quick with you. They didn’t give you any time to settle. They didn’t start immediately with me. At least not like this. They gave me the illusion of peace. I would come to Capitol parties every few months or so. Get dragged around by different women, but just to talk. Every now and then someone would touch my arms or my chest while flirting, but that was it. When I turned fifteen, things started to slowly escalate. It was secretive, but I’d be taken to backrooms for quick sessions. Nothing below the belt, but then I turned sixteen.” He takes a breath, somewhat shaky. He still isn’t looking at me, but I haven’t taken my eyes off of him. “Nothing was off the table. They could do whatever they wanted and I had to go along with it. And Snow would make sure of it.” I look at him sadly. I know how he was threatened. How he didn’t actually have a choice. He takes another deep breath and runs a hand through his hair. He’s looking at me now. His eyes are just slightly red. Like he is holding back tears that he refuses to let fall. “Every time I go back home I spend the entire day at the beach. I ignore everyone else and just swim as if I could swim away from this. It’s the only place I can let go. To try and distract myself from what happens here.”
“Tell me about it. The beach, the water.” He tilts his head, but I see his lip twitch slightly. It’s like just the thought of the ocean can bring him some ease. “There’s a place just past the border in 8 that I go to get away from everything. There’s a very small, rocky beach, but the water is too polluted from the factories. All I can do is listen to the waves, but it’s my favorite thing to do. Ever since I found that spot I wanted to know what a real ocean is like. How the water feels on your skin. What it sounds like washing up against sand.” He looks into my eyes and smiles, no longer trying to suppress it.
“It’s my favorite place in the world. Every morning that I can, I start by running to the beach and immediately jumping in the water. It’s so cold when it’s early, the sun is barely even up, but it’s breathtaking. You feel the coolness against your skin, flowing with you as you move. You can taste the salt in the air when you go above to breathe. It’s a feeling of freedom that you can’t feel anywhere else. When the breeze hits your body as you get out of the water. It’s unlike anything you could imagine. It’s hypnotizing.” He looks so captivated by his thoughts. Like he’s been taken to another world. I don’t know if I have anything like that. Something that can bring me so much peace and happiness.
“I hope I can experience that someday” Now it’s me turning to look outside. The hope that I feel is so strong. The hope that one day things can be good. That this world will no longer be suffocating and terrifying.
“Maybe one day you can.” I turn back to him and he’s looking into my eyes so earnestly. There’s a warmth that I feel from him. He thinks the same thing that I do. That strong feeling of hope is what can keep us going.
I keep trying not to fall asleep, but my eyelids have become so heavy. Thankfully, my conversations with Finnick have distracted me enough that I can feel somewhat relaxed. But I can’t get back in that bed. I can’t sleep there.
“I’ll grab some blankets.” He gets up to start turning the loveseat into my bed for the night.
“I don’t know if I’ll actually be able to sleep. I’m sure the second I’m alone with my thoughts I’ll be too anxious to.” I let out a nervous laugh.
“I can stay if that’d be okay. If it would help.” I watch him walk back over to me. The moonlight from outside glows on his tan skin as he stands near me. His golden blonde waves have gotten messier throughout the night, but he still looks perfect.
“You don’t have to do that. I mean, where would you sleep? Unless you’re okay with the bed.”
“I’m fine on the floor. And then, if you need anything…I’m right there.” He says that so casually as puts the blanket over the cushions, but I can see the slight tint of pink sneaking up on his cheeks. I can feel my face heating up as well.
“You can’t sleep on the floor, Finnick.” I help tuck the blanket into one corner.
“Sure I can. I’ve slept on worse.” He shrugs. He’s not wrong and I can say the same, but still. Am I even sure I want him to stay? My thoughts are quick to say yes, the night with him has been lovely, but what if that got back to Snow? Does that actually matter? I was never told I couldn’t develop a friendship with other victors. However, something tells me that whatever happiness I find here will be stolen away from me.
“It’s up to you. If you’re fine with the floor I’m fine with you staying.” He grins so sweetly. I can tell he doesn’t want to be alone either.
I lay on the loveseat, facing Finnick as he lays on the floor. We both talk about home, learning about each other’s district as we grow more and more tired. When I finally fall asleep, my arm is draped over the cushion and I swear I can feel the touch of Finnick’s fingers lightly on mine. As if he’s reaching up to tell me he’s not going anywhere. His protective touch saves me from any nightmares that dare to enter my mind.
*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°
Thank you so much for reading! You all were so nice with my first chapter. I hope you enjoyed this one :) As always I am open to kind feedback. Also let me know if you’d like to be tagged for the next chapter!! <3
Tag list <3 (I again tagged some people who liked the related posts. Hope that’s okay!!)
@ghoulbabs @lusy98 @marvelescvpe @simplymurdock @marcyss @miserablebl00d @wife-of-all-dilfs @mrsnancywheeler @gremlin515 @bruuhky @0ceanautical @princessofyourmom @babypaperwitch @readawaythereality2
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agaypanic · 3 months
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REQUESTS ARE OPEN!!! Could you write a girl next door kind of thing with Reese? Like reader moves in next door to the Wilkersons and initially they don’t get along but eventually he asks her out 🤭🤭
Being Reese's New Neighbor Headcanons
Masterlist
Request Something!
A/N: warning for underage drinking at the end
***
Reese almost immediately got on your nerves
While moving in, you saw him staring at you through his family’s window
But then again, you were a new neighbor, and his whole family was also watching the moving process
You didn’t think too much of that
It was a different moment that started your irritation
“Oh my god!” You screeched, jumping away from your window. The sound of breaking glass startled you out of the little organizing groove you were in, and you grew both scared and pissed as you realized that the broken glass was from your window.
You picked up the baseball that had rolled on the ground towards you, no doubt the cause of the incident. You looked out your window to see a boy your age, your neighbor, and probably the one who threw the ball. He moved an already broken piece of the fence that divided your properties to the side to get to your side.
“Hey.” He said, now at your window. You gripped the ball tight, angry about his nonchalance. “That’s my ball.”
“I figured.” You did your best not to sneer. You reached out the window to drop the baseball in his hand, quickly pulling back without cutting yourself on the broken glass.
“I’m Reese, by the way.”
“Y/n.”
He seemed like he was about to say something more, but you wouldn’t know because you shut your curtains and walked away, trying to figure out how to tell your parents that the house already had damages.
Despite trying to avoid him, you ended up having to spend a lot of time with Reese
You both walked to school
You shared a few classes together 
It felt like hell
“Hey, wait up!” You heard Reese yell behind you, and you immediately wanted to break into a sprint. More often than not, Reese would walk to school with you, much to your dismay. The two of you seemed to have a bit of a habit of sleeping in, so occasionally, you’d rush out of your houses at the same time and speedwalk to school. “Y/n, come on!”
“It’s not my fault you’re slow!” You shout back, staying at your brisk pace as you hear his thundering footsteps behind you.
“Oh, shut up!” He said when he finally caught up to you. You gave him a quick glance and snorted at how much of a mess he was. 
“You look like you just rolled out of bed.” It was true. Reese didn’t have time to gel up his hair today, so it was messy and had strands sticking out in every direction. His clothes looked like he had just thrown them on, not bothering to straighten anything out. And his backpack was zipped open, loose pieces of paper threatening to fly out.
“I feel like it.” He muttered, running his hands through his hair to try and make it look more neat. “Did we have any homework today?”
“We have homework every day, Reese.”
“Damn it! Can I copy off of you? Just this once?”
“No way, Reese.” You say, rolling your eyes. “And it’s not just ‘this once.’ You copy me like every other day.”
Having to hang out with Reese all the time makes you eventually warm up to each other
You start coming over to his house every now and then to help him with homework
You tell him it’s so he’ll stop copying your work, but that’s only half true
When you leave the house and forget to grab something for breakfast or lunch, Reese miraculously has some food for you in that mess of a bag of his
He says it’s because your complaints about being hungry annoy him, but that’s only half true
“Okay, now carry the two.” You instruct, watching Reese work on a math problem. You had slowly fallen into a routine of coming over to the Wilkerson’s to study and such. Malcolm was very grateful for you, because now that you would come over, Lois wouldn’t force him to help tutor his brother. “Good job, Reese.”
“Thanks.” He said, ears heating up a bit at the small praise. “Can we take a break now?”
“Yeah, sure.” You laughed at the slight whine in his voice, but you were glad to pause the study session. The two of you had been working for about an hour now, and your eyes needed a rest.
The two of you sat in silence for a bit. Then, feeling the familiar empty feeling in your stomach, you groaned. 
“What?” Reese asked, eyes snapping over to you.
“I’m so hungry.”
Reese rolled his eyes and grabbed his backpack. Wordlessly, he dug around for a bit before pulling out a sandwich and a small bag of chips and placing them on the desk in front of you. You grinned and opened the bag of chips. Instead of saying thanks, you offered him a chip. And instead of saying you’re welcome, he took it.
One night, the two of you were at a house party
The two of you had snuck out together
Looking at the time and seeing how late it was, a slightly drunk Reese stumbled around the house to find you
He found you in the kitchen, carefully pouring yourself another drink
You jolted at the sudden feeling of a hand gently clutching your arm but soon smiled brightly when you saw Reese beside you.
“Hey, Reese!” You squealed. It was safe to say that you were a bit tipsy. He smiled at your excitement before remembering why he was trying to find you in the first place. 
“Y/n, I think it’s time to go.” He almost had to yell over the music. But you heard him.
“Boo!” You pouted, bringing your newly filled cup to your lips. But Reese covered the top with his hand and took it out of your grasp, setting it on the counter. “Hey!”
“I’ll make it up to you later. Now come on.” 
Reese dragged you out of the house, and soon you were walking home together. You shivered a bit as a gust of wind hit you. Noticing, Reese let go of your hand to shrug off his jacket and put it over your shoulders.
“But then you’ll be cold.” You half-heartedly protested, wrapping the jacket tighter around you.
“I’m fine.” Reese shrugged.
You don’t know what came over you, but you grabbed Reese’s hand, interlocking your fingers with his. He looked slightly surprised at the action, but didn’t protest it.
Sooner than you hoped, you reached your houses. The two of you snuck along the fence dividing the properties and got to your window.
“Hey, Y/n?” Reese asked in a whisper as he helped open your bedroom window. “Do you maybe wanna, like, go out?”
You turned to him, confused.
“We are out.”
Even though he was trying to be quiet, Reese couldn’t help but laugh.
“No, I mean like a date.” You perked up at the word, surprised expression soon turning happy.
“Oh my gosh, I’d love to!” Your response was a bit too loud, so Reese shushed you. You giggled and spoke again in a whisper. “I’d love to.”
With dopey, drunk smiles on both of your faces, Reese helped you climb through your window and into your room. He was about to go through the broken fence and into his yard when you quietly called out his name.
“Your jacket.” You said, suddenly remembering that you were wearing the piece of clothing. You started to take it off when Reese stopped you.
“No, no, it’s fine.” He stared at you, eyes a little glassy. “It looks good on you.”
You suddenly yanked him by the collar of his shirt to bring him close enough to plant a kiss on his cheek.
“I’ll see you tomorrow, Reese.”
***
Malcolm in the Middle Taglist: @rattilol
Reese Wilkerson Taglist: @hollymaybank @theogirlovermattheogirl
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