i am not the delicate one.

PINNED POST.    jellybean. 24. she/her.  independent original character:   BUNNY BUNET. central time zone. bunny is: a twisted comfort blanket, vaguely unsettling, not a girl.

the gang’s all here: all found on my multi!

darcy rose:   trickster goddess. evil bitch. chaotic evil. master or disguise and transformations.  very powerful and her magical abilities are quite advanced.  has no regard for human life and thrives off chaos.   bunny’s creator.   

sam hewitt:   supernatural private investigator.  shapeshifter.  bunny and him meet on the job after she saves him from a wendigo.  a one night stand that turns into many more but bunny fucks it all up by not being able to admit that maybe whatever they have is real.  it’s complicated. 

This is not the first time Job has heard those words. In fact, far from it. Though he cannot say that he expected to come across Bunny again with any kind of certainty, he also cannot help but note the ping of disappointment her words stir within him. The time they shared together all those months ago, albeit increasingly distant, is not one he takes for granted. 

Still, her latter question brings a crooked smile to his lips and a little snort of laugher from his nose and, soon enough, he’s bobbing his head and telling her, quite confidently, “Yeah - I’m hittin’ my second puberty.” Truth be told, his first time around was just horrible enough that he wishes to never repeat the experience - but that’s beside the point. At the end of the long once-over which he grants her, Job twists his lips, perches his hands on either side of his hips, and juts his fuzz-covered chin her way. “C’mon, Bun - you gone gimme a hug, now, or what?”

there are times that Bunny thinks she made it all up. that she created Job from her very own mind, someone to help her in her most vulnerable moments back at that farm and crappy motel, but when she throws her arms around him she knows that he is as real as it gets. she’s smiling, albeit he can’t see her as her face is buried into his chest. a muffled voice,  “ i can’t believe it. i - ”  suddenly painfully aware of her own power pulsing and humming beneath her skin, Bunny untangles herself from him.

it’s an indescribable and unmistakable feeling; the way she can sense when someone or something is more than meets the eye. even with the gloves she wears on her hands for this very reason, Bunny senses that Job is … more. it’s something that she never realized all those months ago. then again, Bunny was not much of a person back then. she had been hanging on by a thread and she and Job had barely been able to put her back together. 

@nitebit​

familiar  footsteps  and  the  ticking  of  the  toaster  echo  in  the  otherwise  empty  apartment.   she  doesn’t  need  to  turn  to  see  who’s  there,  only  one  other  person  has  keys  to  this  apartment.   admittedly,  it’s  been  a  while  since  olympia  herself  has  returned   ——   running,  running,  running.   always  looking  over  her  shoulders  just  in  case  trouble’s  lurking  around  the  corner.   it  gets  tiring,  though,  and  so  being  somewhere  she  considers  home  in  the  slightest  is  a  nice  vacation  away  from  it  all.   as  close  to  it  as  she  can  get,  anyway.

❝   i  was  wondering  when  i’d  see  you  next.   ❞   she  turns  around  as  the  footsteps  near,  a  grin  spread  across  her  features.   tenderness  like  this  is  reserved  for  very  few  people  these  days,  bunny  being  one  of  them.   it’s  nice  to  know  olympia  can  still  afford  softness,  to  learn  to  appreciate  the  gardens  for  their  life  despite  getting  constantly  hurt  by  their  thorns.   the  toaster  oven  dings  and  two  commercial  flat  pastries  pop  out.   ❝   pop  tart?   it’s  brown  sugar  cinnamon.   ❞

she  grabs  a  pop  tart  and  leaves  the  other  one  for  bunny  to  grab,  if  she  wanted  it,  and  plops  it  onto  a  paper  towel.   she  gestures  toward  the  coffee  table  where  a  heart-shaped  box  full  of  contents  only  bunny  would  appreciate   —   high  grade  flower  &  pills.   ❝   i  got  you  a  valentine’s  day  present.   ❞   stole  it,  is  more  likely,  from  a  bunch  of  teenagers  who’d  probably  be  better  off  without,  an  act  of  charity / kindness,  though  there’s  more selfishness  to  it  than  she’d  care  to  admit.   everyone  has  their  vices,  after  all.

❝   anyway,  long  time  no  see.   you  didn’t  get  into  any  trouble,  did  you?   ❞

bunny hasn’t actually been to her own apartment in weeks. truthfully, once olympia upped and left without a word to do whatever she does, bunny moved in full time to the one bedroom that they’ve shared as a sort of safe house. so, when she opens the door and sees olympia standing in their dirty kitchen, she freezes. suddenly so very aware of the dishes that have been sitting in the sink longer than she would like to admit, empty liquor bottles and white residue on the countertops.  not that she’s ever hidden her bad habits from olympia, but a feeling she doesn’t like runs through her. is it … shame? bunny pushes it away. 

“ what the actual fuck? ”    is the best she can come up with. the smell of pop tarts fills her nose and she feels such an intense feeling of nostalgia that for a second, she forgets how to breathe. her bag and phone are thrown towards the couch and once she reaches the coffee table, a smile curls at the ends of her mouth. physical touch, affection, it’s all so foreign to bunny. it just isn’t like them, but she does walk around the table and grabs the second pop tart from the toaster and shoves a piece into her mouth.  a peace offering, bunny supposes. her way of saying, i forgive you even though you left me. 

“ how are you here? ”    bunny is past the point of remembering. truth be told, she’s not even sure whose living room she finds herself in, like most nights, bunny lets the alcohol and the drugs and whatever else she can get her hands on these days to lead the way. the bass of the music rumbles throughout the house and for a second, she can’t quite feel her own heart beating in her chest. she’s too fucked up to care. she lifts her head to get a good look at him and an arm is extended, but she can’t quite reach him. she wants to touch him. she wants to make sure he’s real and not a figment or her imagination. 

bunny has dreamt of him before, after all. she dreams of everyone she’s ever lost and loved and in this moment, she isn’t sure if this is real or just another one of her nightmares.     “ did you come to save me? ”    she laughs at her own question. silly girl, there are no angels coming to save you. nothing winged coming to your rescue.   a grunt follows her giggles as she struggles off the couch into a standing position. closer now, she can almost touch him. one, two steps and she’s closed the gap between him. there he is, clear as day. no thoughts in her head except relief. maybe she is dreaming, maybe this is a good dream.