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bakugohoex · 3 years

Note

I was rewatching death note and when L did his monster speech this request was born! So the idea is Bakugo and iida (separately ) with a s/o who has trust issues and is liar ,nothing extremely serious like betraying them! More like smaller stuff? They probably confront them asking why they lie so much!”

({and btw if you haven’t herd L’s monster speech you should for inspiration buts that’s your choice! Have a happy holiday!✨)

“y/n just tell me the fucking truth for once”

pairing: katsuki bakugo x female reader

cw: this long sorry, violence, language, some topics of abuse but it isn’t in detail, kissing and fluff

word count: 5200+

a/n: hi sorry i don’t write for iida cause i find him really annoying and i don’t think i have the facilities to write him, but i do write bakugo so here it is, also i love the L speech sm and anything in italics is either a reference to the speech or directly incorporates the speech, have a happy rest of the holiday as well

summary: in which you were raised by villains, by being saved by the heroes, the trust issues and lying you were brought upon reflects you now, bakugo grows ever more frustrated at your lying and all your truths come out

↞ back to my hero academia masterlist

The echo of the wind bashing against the windowsill roared through the commission, the white walls cascaded around you, it was painful and enduring at how you sat in the middle of the silent room. Waiting. No. Watching, you were listening and seeing those around you, a muzzle around your mouth to surpress your voice. Your wrists coated with the metal handcuffs, you were trapped, and you being stalked by those around you.

“Miss Y/l/n, we have found your family.” The voice is loud and monotone, you didn’t care, fuck your family, fuck what they did to you, fuck them.

Unable to move your hands to put a middle finger up at the camera, one movement causing an electrifying bolt run through your arms. You hated being here, you would rather fend for yourself on the streets than be involved in a hell hole like this.

“No words of happiness.” The sound of a certain pro hero caught your ears, the one who had captured you, held you against your will, locked you in this room. Number two pro hero Hawks.

“You can kill them for all I care.” Your voice dripped with malice not looking up at him.

Monsters who will not show themselves and will cause trouble.

You heard him say something quietly behind him before the jingle of keys were heard. He walked to the handcuffs undoing them, the muzzle clenched against your face, leaving sore marks, he grabbed at it making you face him. You were about to activate your quirk, but he quickly let go making you stop.

“We’re sending you to UA.” You eyes widened, what did a shitty school like UA need with a villain like you.

He looked at your sore wrists, before the signs of the bruises vanished underneath your thumb which you had been rubbing against the purple. He watched you touch your neck which had bruises from being pushed to the ground, all disappearing in a single touch. “A school like that doesn’t need me.”

“Of course it does, your quirk can be used for good.” He softly speaks sitting beside you on the white floor. The room was suffocating, and you wanted to leave it as soon as you could.

“I can’t, I know how to kill, I was raised to kill.” You put your hands to your face, getting rid of the cuts that erupted on your face, with an instance it was all gone. “If I touch you and activate my quirk, I could break you.”

He looks at your tired eyes, a child broken and used by your family to become a villain. “I’ll make a deal with you.”

It gains your attention and with an instance you look at the man, he holds his hand out you grab it with ease, his fingers were soft, you could imagine them breaking under your touch. He guides you out of the room, you walked past to where many other rooms which you assumed where blank and lifeless. Before seeing a window, it was to another room, you saw a woman in bed, she was bandaged up but the silver around her wrist made you in an instance know who it is.

“Your mother she’s dying, the families she ruined wont get proper justice, but I’ll let you go in, you can scream, shout hell you can kill her yourself, but you will join UA.” The sound of being able to kill her, kill the woman who had stolen you away.

“She’s not my mother, she found me.” They were never your family; they had seen you at such a young age and stolen you to indoctrinate.

Monsters who abduct children.

He nods already knowing, “we’ll lock the door.” All that flashed through your eyes was murder, she had taken it all from you, you never wanted to see her family, her stupid husband and her stupid son, you hated them all and you were going to kill her.

The sound of the door locking made you move towards her, she looked up thinking you were hear to save her. “My daughter.” The words were careless and made you angrier.

“I was never your daughter…” You pause her frail fingers had started to wrinkle and her face becoming grey and hair patchy.

“Y/n.” He breathing was rough, but you didn’t care, with an instant you went up to her exposed hands.

A smile formed on your lips, maybe you were a sadist, but you could do one last villainous action, make her fie even quicker, make her beg for forgiveness. Then you would go to UA, you would forget about the torture, forgot about them. You would become something a lot more than they had ever expected.

“I’m going to kill you.” It was comical but her face fell.

“You heartless bitch.” She shouted, “you fucking bitch, no wonder nobody loves you.” You didn’t care about her words smiling away.

The way her fingers cracked under your touch, each bone breaking the screams filling the room. You didn’t care touching even more of her before you moved directly to her heart. Hawks had heard the screams ignoring it maybe it was wrong of him to let you do this. But you deserved justice, your hand moved on top of her chest.

“Y/n…please.” She begged it was heaven in your ears, the woman who had tormented you was begging for you too stop and what else could you do but disagree. She had clinged onto your wrist, tightening her grip, unable to use her own quirk due to the medication, this was your only chance.

Hawks knew it was over, opening the door to see you walk out, he looked at you expecting some emotion but was brought with happiness, almost joy. “Where are the other two?”

“You’ll see them again when they’re locked up, but that’s it, you cant kill them.” You nodded, you’d find a way, you’d find a way to kill them both, but you kept your composure.

The day flew past he explained how you’d have to lie, pretend your life was normal. But the main thing he wanted you to know was.

“If you kill any of them, I’ll be the one to kill you Y/n.” You nod, you had a straight face for most of his lecture, but you felt like he was trying to replace the adult figures you had had in your life. “If you get into any trouble, call me or just want to know how to act human, I know you haven’t been in the best education, but this is a fresh chance.”

“Okay.” It was simple and whilst sleeping in the commission in a much better area with colour and natural light. You watched the sky, watched how the stars danced around the moon, you admired it from a far but oh how you wished to see it up close.

The night was calming, and you were restless, but it wasn’t out of fear of going to UA, it was of fear they would find out who you were. Find out you were a villain, find out that you had caused deaths along the way. You were confident in your abilities, but they were new people, you had been surrounded by A rank and B rank villains all your life. Hell you had been classed as an A rank villain but now you would become something in life.

Hawks hadn’t bothered to tell you about your real parents, all that was known was you had been on the streets, you were a nobody and you would remain like that if you tried hard enough. The night had led to a lack of sleep with tossing and turning, the nightmares blaring through your head. The torment the way they would use your quirk at the tender age of five to kill and kill again.

Monsters who devour dreams.

The sound of coughing woke you up in your slumber, you hadn’t grown close to the winger hero. But he was trying, he gave you your new uniform, helped you pack a bag with everything and even gave encouraging words along the way.

The uniform was gross but after being trapped for weeks in solitude you were finally getting human contact, experiencing the world. “I’ll help you settle in; the teachers know your…past.” You nod, he was avoiding it and so were you, the drive being filled with silence.

Your gaze had been out the window, the hues of red and yellow cascaded through the sky, it was beautiful. A month ago the only thing you had seen was thick concrete walls, murder only occurring inside of the building you had called home for years.

“We’re here.” He whispers opening the door for you, taking your bags he watches you hit the air and feel the sun, “I think that’s the first time I’ve seen you smile.”

Your surpress the smile looking down, “make friends Y/n.” You nod, you were able to make friends, of course you were it was the not sticking out like a sore thumb that bothered you.

These people will have known each other for a month’s now but you, you weren’t normal. Hawks gave a smile walking you inside the building, “I’ll go drop your bags off to your new room once you’ve settled in.”

You walked past the doors, before arriving in front of a humongous door, shrugging at how Hawks spoke about the class. “The league tried to get them.” You mutter out. “They had talked to Shigaraki about it prior, we were going to go with them but my bro…he got sick.”

It was a lie of course; it wasn’t that he had gotten sick. You had touched him; broken his arm and you had been punished in an instant. You were made to sleep in the rain, eat off the ground, it was torture and you had felt sucked to death.

Monsters who suck blood.

Hawks nods, you misspeaking made you nervous, this was the first time you would be talking and listening to people who you weren’t about to kill. The door opened and you didn’t dare face the class, the teacher who you assumed was Aizawa stood in a sleeping bag, you dismissed it knowing how powerful his quirk was.

“We’ve got a new student today, Y/n Y/l/n and pro hero Hawks is here.” The shock on there faces was something, but it felt more to Hawks than it was to you.

“I’ll be leaving I’ll call tonight.” You nod at Hawks watching him leave with your stuff, your bag hanged loosely on your shoulder. You analysed them all, scanning up and down before you saw the boy who you knew Shigaraki had captured, the Katsuki Bakugo and Izuku Midoriya who your ‘parents’ had told you about.

You stopped staring at them, Izuku looked down not meeting your gaze whilst Bakugo scowled at you, “why don’t you introduce yourself?”

“Oh umm…” You stuttered Hawks had made you practice a fake backstory but, in an instant, it was forgotten, “I’m Y/n Y/L/N, I moved here with my family a…and ugh.”

Monsters who always tell lies.

You didn’t know what else to say, refusing to meet their gazes as you looked out the window, the birds chirping, petals falling in the August heat, it was beautiful, how life spewed out into the world. But also how easily it was to destroy life, how in one touch everything could break and deteriorate, “Y/n.” Aizawa had been repeating your name but you hadn’t gotten out of your daze until the third time.

“Yes.” You whisper.

He points to a seat behind Bakugo and in front of Midoriya, “go sit behind Bakugo.” You nod, walking past them all, they seemed already accustom to their friends. This was going to be a lot harder; it wasn’t like you were infiltrating it to gain anything. You going against the indoctrination and being the opposite of what you had been brought up to be.

You felt someone tap your shoulder as Aizawa went to what looked like sleep, quickly turning around to meet the green haired boy. “I’m Izuku Midoriya.”

You pretended to not know him, smiling as you introduced yourself again, “Yeah I heard.”

“Why did your parents move?” A blonde boy shouted, you saw the black in his hair, it was a look, but you had seen a lot worse hairstyles.

“Oh, work.” It was an easy enough lie which nobody would be able to see through. “We move around a lot.”

He doesn’t say anymore, as some of the girls come around the table, all introducing themselves, you smile thinking this had become easier by the minute. As quickly as introductions had occurred between the whole class, the day had begin to conclude and all that was left was training.

You didn’t have a hero costume so remained in the UA uniform; it was easy enough. With the odd amount of people, Aizawa had made you stay beside him. “I want you to break all of their left legs.”

Was this a trick or a ploy? You were happy to accept knowing this to be an easy enough thing to do, you saw how they had all began to bunch together. It was paced easily, skimming through each and everyone of them, jumping onto the high buildings as you touched all their left legs with ease, even Midoriya whose quirk you had known to be superior had not been paying attention, you easily touched it before hiding it. Your last victim was Bakugo who seemed to be jumping around, you saw how he stood in front of Kirishima in the open area, well you were going to make this a show.

You already heard the screams of some of the class and whilst being distracted you touched the blond’s leg, having assumed it was the wind he ignored the feeling. Ready to attack just as you bounced back to Aizawa.

In an instance you saw the class cascade onto their left knees, the shouting and tears flowing from some of them. It was quick enough, and you almost felt the thrill of killing from doing this small action.

Even Bakugo who had tried to not become grounded was repressing growls at the pain, “What’s ha…” You heard Momo ask on the ground, even the boy you had known as Endeavor’s son had collapsed onto the floor.

“It’s good, and you can heal them as well.” Aizawa ignored the class taking it as an endurance test.

You nodded about to go reverse it, “no let them feel it.” He had stopped you, you spaced in and out watching them on the floor, you stood in silence, it was easy enough to be stealthy even the invisible girl was easy to get after seeing the gloves floating about.

Aizawa after a couple minutes let you touch there legs again, all regaining strength again. They were all a bit out of it but Bakugo seemed the most pissed at you, not understanding your quirk. The class stood in silence looking at you, you didn’t look at them, wanting to leave and just look out at the sky for a bit.

“Y/n, was that your quirk?” The questions cascaded out, but you refused to answer, you didn’t care if they knew but you felt anxious and untrustworthy of these people. They could end up using it against you, hell they might even try and cut your hands off, so you’re left quirk less.

You had heard it happened to Overhaul so what would make you think that these groups of future pro heroes wouldn’t do it you. “No.” Is all you say, it was a lie, and you were going to stick by it forever.

Lying monsters they are much more cunning than other monsters.

Look into the horizon and see hope, “can we go now?” You muttered to Aizawa, he nodded, you didn’t stop to talk to them instantly leaving.

You didn’t want to face the question and answers, you wanted to be alone. You understood after all these years of being isolated, making friends, being around other people had took a toll on you and you wanted to curl up into a ball.

You grabbed your bag changing as quick as you could, instantly walking past the class who had just arrived to change. You saw the message on the phone Hawks had given you a number and floor of where you assumed your room was.

Whilst walking towards where the dorms were you heard the shout of your name. Turning around you were met with Todoroki, “oh hi.”

“Your quirk its…” He trailed off not knowing the words.

He joined you in the walk to the dorms, “you can say villainous, I can kill people with it.”

“I wasn’t going to say that but at least you’re on our side.” He smiles out before talking about the class and how impressed they were with your quirk.

All you could think about were the words he had said though our side, what did it mean? Were there sides to this world, were you going to remain on the side of justice or go against Hawks and run and kill and be killed by him.

You had ignored everything else he had said, “I’m glad I’m on your side as well.” It was a blatant lie, but you were trying, trying to put on a façade. You tried to understand him, understand the emotions that were around you. But you didn’t understand it, didn’t understand how something has harmless as you had done had made them impressed. If they wanted to be impressed, you could kill someone. If they really wanted.

They pose as humans even though they have no understand of the human heart.

Todoroki talked about how meals worked and the works and before you knew it, he had dropped you off directly outside the dorm room. “I’ll come get you for dinner.” You nodded before sucking in a breath. You had your own room, your own sanctuary, you could make it look however you wanted.

You walked inside seeing your bags to the side, a desk and a bed it was normal and empty. Hell if you knew what to do with the room, you had no pictures to put up, no possessions only the new clothes Hawks had brought you. It was barren and you expected it would remain this way.

You laid on the bed, feeling the soft and warm covers, it was a new experience, the rags you had slept in prior being nothing compared to this. It was comfort that you had never experience, the few hours later bringing the half haired boy to your room.

You had put the clothes in the designated area and been waiting on the bed, staring out of the window. It was getting dull and wearing the clothes that fit too right, you opened the door to see Todoroki.

“We’re waiting downstairs.” You nod, pulling at the sleeves of the shirt as you followed the boy. He made conversation which you gave small yeah back too. You were eating for the sake of it, eating to fuel you it wasn’t to satisfy or pleasure you it was to make you stronger. That’s how you had been brought up and that’s how you seemed to remain.

You saw the class crowding a table, a confusion settling on your face. Even the angry Bakugo was perched on the table, Todoroki coughed, and everybody turned their backs. “She’s hear.” Mina squealed, “we got you a cake to celebrate you joining our class.”

Your face fell in confusion, why were they being nice? You had hurt them and now they had gotten you a cake, you had never had a cake, always being told it was bad for you and would ruin your quirk.

“A c…cake.” You stuttered.

“Yeah, a cake, look its got frosting.” Ururaka smiled moving to show you the cake.

It was Midoriya the next to speak, “we think your quirk is really cool and don’t want you to think we think it’s a villain quirk or something.”

Your eyes widened; the cake had blue frosting but the sound of Midoriya repeating what Todoroki spoke out too you. You took a deep breath before faking a smile, everybody seemed to believe it and your next words, “thank you guys so much it means a lot.”

Bakugo knew, Bakugo saw how your eyes were lying, how your face might have been smiling but inside you were dying. Those eyes of yours, the way your upper lip twitched whilst cutting the cake. He saw it all and, in the end, he saw how your fingers skimmed the knife, as if you were thinking about murder. But what did he know about an extra like you.

They eat even though they’ve never experienced hunger.

A couple weeks had passed, and you seemed to have settled in, well that’s what Hawks had assumed after every daily call with you. His words echoing in your head, one murder and you would die yourself. You had grown closer with all of them , specifically Mina and Kirishima, but Bakugo was another story, he was scowl every time you looked at him, everytime you tried to make conversation. You both hadn’t shared a single conversation only being around each other due to your mutual friends.

The day Mina had asked to study in your room had brought Kirishima, Sero, Denki and Bakugo to your room. You hadn’t expected all of them, but you put on a fake smile again, you didn’t need to revise, hell if it wasn’t for your quirk, you’d still be academically smarter then the rest of them.

You didn’t confess to this truth only accepting them inside the barren room, you hadn’t gotten time to print out the pictures you had taken with the class. As much as the villain inside of you hated to admit it you were enjoying your time. You had thought the first night at UA, that in a month you’d have killed them, the villain in you would come out and you’d stop all their hearts, but now, smiling with them maybe things were different.

Or maybe you were lying to yourself, because to Bakugo you still showed the lying nature, your eyes were filled with lies and could dare look at you. It was only for Kirishima who had dragged him alone, he wanted to ask why you lied, why you didn’t tell the truth? A true pro hero would never go to this extent, but he had no proof, it was in his head.

It was all true, you had continued this lie, making up about how your parents and you were distant, but you had a brother who you were close with. The brother who had stolen you had never been close with you, he hated you, resented your quirk and had killed anybody around you to prove he was the better child.

You imagined him locked up right now, locked away in the hell hole, it was callous, but you relished in his pain. Mina had begun asking questions which you ignored thinking, you zoned out looking out of the window. He was probably chained up, sobbing at how he regretted it all. Regretted hurting you, you bet he didn’t even know that you were the one to kill his mother.

It was comforting but you knew you would have to surpress these thoughts to seem normal. “Sorry, I spaced out, say that again?” You quickly spoke.

Bakugo had noticed you space out, noticed how your lips twitched upwards into a cruel face he had seen that face before. Seen it on every villain he had even encountered and the fear that filled him, startled you all as he knocked the books to the floor.

You continued helping Mina ignoring the boy who continued looking at you. He didn’t bother helping Kirishima, only glaring at you, it wasn’t like he cared if you trusted them or not. But you were no hero to him, even if Deku and Todoroki told you, you were a hero, you would always be something villainous. The night fell and they all left, Bakugo having glared the entire night, it was unnerving, and you were fearful he was catching on, but you dismissed it. It was easy to not overthink these types of stuff, you could always threaten the boy.

They study even though they have no interest in academics.

The late night was unnerving you could feel Bakugo’s presence surround the room, you jolted up. Looking around, feeling watched, before you noticed the hoodie Bakugo had been wearing draped over the chair. He might be awake, he could be, you didn’t care, you got up stretching before grabbing the hoodie and creeping out the door.

You were on the same floor as the boy, so in a quick few steps you arrived at his door. You knocked hesitantly, maybe you should’ve waited. You shook your head, knowing that the feeling of his hoodie in your room made you on edge. You knocked again, and on the third a sleep Bakugo opened the door.

They seek friendship even though they do not know how to love.

He rubbed his eyes before noticing who it was, “what the hell do you want?”

You scowled looking at him, “you left your hoodie in my room.”

You pushed it on him about to leave, but instead he grabs your wrist, “we need to talk.”

“We can talk in the morning.” You were fearful not of him but the threat he knew your secret, knew everything about you.

He ignored you dragging you inside and shutting the door, “sit down.” He mutters, you oblige sitting on the edge of his bed, he had been wearing a black shirt and shorts, you didn’t look at him, instead looing around his room. You see a picture of what looks to be his parents, he was the spitting image of his mother. He looked angry in it but even then, it was a family picture filled with love, something you would never have.

“Why do you lie?” He meets your gaze.

“L…lie, I haven’t.” You lie out.

“I see it in your eyes, you have this face and I’ve seen it on villains, who are you?” His voice had become harsher and you felt intimidated. Fuck, you had killed people and a rowdy blond boy was making you scared.

“I told you…”

He interrupts you, “Y/n just tell me the fucking truth for once.”

“Bakugo I don’t know what you’re on about.” You say acting dumb to leave this situation, “I’ve tried to be nice to you but you jus…”

He speaks over you to make you shut up, “you don’t want to be friends, what are you Y/n?”

His voice was eery and he continued to spew out the truth, “you’re a villain aren’t you.”

You take a deep breath the tears about to brim from your eyelids, “I’m the monster, parents tell their kids about.”

Bakugo watched the tears flow out, he didn’t know what to do, he brought his hand to your face wiping the tears with his thumb. “Y/n tell me the truth.”

You look a mess, but you didn’t care, and you confessed it all, you didn’t lie or skim over the truth. You told him from the moment you got taken to the moment you killed the woman who had made you call her mother.

You expected him to push you away, tell everybody instead he sat in silence. Before bringing you into his arms, “I shouldn’t have called you a villain.” It was a soft side to the boy who had been known for being aggressive, after hearing your sufferings he understood, and he wanted to make sure you were always safe and protected.

“I am a monster though.”

He makes you look up at him, holding your face in his hands, “you’re not, the monsters are those people.”

You don’t speak instead leaning your head against his shoulders, you had never been this vulnerable with anyone. He held your head onto his body, moving onto the pillow to let you lie down on him, he brought you comfort, let you cry on him. You weren’t a villain; you weren’t a villain and if Bakugo believed it then you weren’t a villain to the boy who had been surrounded by them just as much as you had.

After that night Bakugo and you had grown into a strong friendship, it was shocking to the class who had never seen you even talk. The way he would come and make you coffee in the morning, walk with you to each class. Sit beside you in at lunch, even go as far as it train with you just so you felt included.

But seeing how you both talked and smiled at each other, for the first time you had a genuine smile on your face, a genuine laugh that wasn’t filled with lies from your past. They watched how the two of you grew over the course of the next month, how the two of you grew closer and closer. It was unfathomable but you had made a true friend, a friendship that wasn’t based on lies, maybe one day you’d tell them all.

But at the time being you were content with having the angry boy be remotely nicer to you than anybody. It was Mina who had noticed how Bakugo would open the door for you or hold your bag occasionally. The unusual behaviour making everybody think he was sick, but all you saw from him was kindness that had evolved for you.

What they hadn’t realised was how at ease you both had gotten into a routine of sneaking into each other’s rooms. How you’d hold onto each other, talk and vent about the past in each other’s arms. Friends don’t do that; friends don’t hold and comfort each other like you both did.

On one of the many nights you both spent together, his arm around your waist, you looked at him. Looked at his fiery red eyes and fallen blond hair, he had become something more to you. Somebody who you could trust with your life.

“Stop looking at me, its creepy.” He scolds, you laugh at the boy bringing your hand to his hair.

You feel him stare down at your tiny figure, “I thought you were a real bitch the first time we met.”

“You don’t think that anymore.” You pout out nearing closer to his plump lips.

“I still think you’re a fucking bitch.” He laughs, cocking his head back before bringing it back to your face, the gap having narrowed and all you could see was his fiery eyes stare back at you. “You’re my bitch...though.”

You nod not making a remark as the gap closes between you. Your lips moving together in an instant, it was long awaited and seethed with love and hope. But most of all it proved the woman who you called mother wrong, you weren��t heartless, and you have the love she spoke about from Bakugo.

Monsters who always tell lies.

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jflemings · 3 years

Text

you don’t need to prove yourself to me | spencer reid

summary: the BAU gets called into a local homicide case where all the victims have been women. You end up questioning the unsub and he hits a bit too close to home.

warnings: murder, aggressive tones & language, mentions of violence against women, substance abuse & domestic violence is mentioned, normal cm type stuff ends in fluff tho!

note from the author: This fic might get pretty heavy for some people reading, nothing too major. substance abuse is mentioned as is minor domestic violence but does not go into detail it is just for the sake of the plot. do not read if you feel like you are not comfortable with these topics!

word count: 5k - I am so sorry but this fic wouldn't make sense to make into two parts whoops

“The unsub in question is presumably a white male in his mid to late fifties with some sort of prior anger issues. He may seem relatively approachable at first, often may be charming to people he first meets but has an underlying sense of self rightousness and hatred towards women.” Hotch says before looking at you to continue.

Your attention shifts from your superior to the crowd of police officers in front of you “Chances are he’s a family man, a local. someone who knows his way around the area and can hide in plain sight. Depreciating jokes about women and possibly even a spouse could be in his humor, most likely he holds old sexist values. Grew up in an abusive household or with no mother which is where his lack of respect for women stems from.” you conclude your statement with a scan around the room, getting a feel for the reactions in the crowd before JJ starts to pull you away to a back office where the team has been set up temporarily this morning.

The door closes with a soft click as JJ leans up against it, her hand still on the handle. The sound of shifting papers fills the suddenly very obvious quiet room while you stand at the desk organising the case file and any evidence left on the desk, your long time friend stares at you and you can feel her eyes burning into the left side of your face before breaking her silence.

“Y/N what’s wrong?” the calm tone floats through the room as you stop shuffling papers and look up to the photos of the women on the evidence board before making eye contact with your most respected colleague

“I grew up with these women. One of them was my tutor in math when I was a sophomore, JJ!. To you guys these women are strangers but to me they’re friendly faces whom I’ve been with since I was a toddler and it frustrates me so much to not know if I’m waiting around for a dead body of an old classmate” A breath releases itself from your lungs and a weight has started to lift off of your shoulders and be replaced with a steady hand.

“This sick son of a bitch isn’t going to be doing this for much longer. We’re gonna catch him, y/n and I promise you can be the one to put his head on a stick” Her reassuring gaze and firm but kind smile is enough to put you at ease before Reid comes busting through the door.

His eyes are locked on you

“There’s been an attack” is all he can get out before your blood runs cold and you’re out of the station making a beeline for Hotch in the parking lot.

His back is turned to you but it doesn’t take a genius to know that right now he’s determined to find the unseen before it’s too late.

“Hotch! what’s going on!?” His name desperatly leaves your mouth before you, JJ and Spencer are stood in front of him

“a young woman was attacked two blocks away from her home, she fought back and is okay but may need to be taken to hosptial. She specifically asked for you”

You can feel the colour rapidly drain from your face, your great rate sky rocketing “Where was she attacked?”

“Corner of Anderson and Meyers street”

The street is lined with patrol cars and officers when you pull up with spencer, your hands on the wheel are shaking and white and you can’t control the over whelming feeling in the core of your stomach.

Your blank stare and lack of response doesn’t go unnoticed by your boyfriend of a year. He reaches over to put the car in park and then gently takes your hands off the steering wheel and placing them in his own .

“Y/N look at me. She’s okay. She’s alive and she wants to speak with you. She fought and he couldn’t grab her.” Spencer’s slow tone is attention grabbing enough for your eyes to pry themselves away from the scene in front of you.

His eyes soften when he sees the tears brimming in your own and feels the ever so slight shake coming from your palms. Spencer had seen you cry before, yes, but not like this; the BAU had taken plenty of cases like this one but it was obvious to him now that you had taken this far more personal than he had initially though. His left hand removed itself from yours and brushed some fly away hairs behind your ear before gently resting it on the side of your face.

“if you want, we can sit here for a minute I’ll call Hotch now and tell him to take the lead and we’ll sit and yo-” He begins to ramble and you move his hand from your face so you can ahem his full attention.

“Spence, it’s okay. You and I can go over and speak with the victim; I’m going to be fine” you spoke softly with a smile on your face de before the both of you unbuckled yourselves and headed towards the ambulance parked in front of the corner.

The young woman is sitting in he back of the ambulance whilst holding an ice pack to the right side of her arm. Emily stands in front of her trying to get any information she can when you approach so you can take over.

“Thanks, Em. Reid and I can take over” you say before she puts a hand on or arm and walks away so your undivided attention is now on the woman in the back of the ambulance.

“Hello my name is Dr Reid and this is my partner Agent L/N, you- uh insisted you speak with us” Spencer introduces whilst flicking his gaze from you to the victim.

It’s like a tidal wave of realisation comes over you once you finally get a good look at the person in front of you “Oh my god- are you okay?” both hands grip the woman’s shoulders is utter disbelief and a look of concern is now occupying your features. “Ellie, what did he try to do to you?” the question comes out rushed while your eyes scan her body.

“Y/N! oh my god you’ll never believe it! I was just doing my normal track and when I got to this corner he tried to grab me. He held a knife to my stomach and threatened to stabbed me if I screamed but I couldn't take any chances so I hit him in his ribs and then heeled his toes as hard as I could but he still managed to get me on my arm and hip” She said exhausted, like she had just re lived it right in front of you. Stress crossed her features and her hand gripped her forehead.

You turn to your dumbfounded boyfriend standing beside you and you remembered that he had yet to properly meet your high school best friend.

“Ellie this is Spencer” you gestured to him and Ellie looked like she had finally found a thought that was floating in her brain “My boyfriend spencer” you clarified.

Instinctively, she stuck her hand out for him to shake “Oh of course! You’re the cute doctor” she smiled graciously when he did take her hand while Spence side eyed you.

“Sorry we aren’t meeting under better circumstances” He gave her a tight lipped smile before taking out his notebook “We were just wondering if we could ask a few questions? We’re not too sure we can wait ‘till after you’ve been checked out of hospital” spencer said.

You agreed with him “Did you happen to get a look at his face? or possibly any identifying characteristics” you quizzed while she racked her brain for some answers.

She sighed before answering “His hair was clean cut, like he had just gotten it done and his eyes were kind of deep set- like he hadn’t had a good nights sleep in at least a couple of months” she hesitated before looking at Reid “He wasn’t as tall as Spencer but he still had a bit of height on him, I think came up just past his shoulder” She stopped again and mindlessly scanned the crowd of uniformed officers before she set her sights back onto you. “The shirt Y/N! underneath his hoodie he wore a grey collard shirt that looked exactly like the police uniform”

Spencer’s head whipped around to the crowd of officers, either trying to find your superior or trying to find the suspected unsub. You wracked your brain, thoughts flying in and out of your head a million miles a minute. Nerves once again invaded your stomach and you started to rock from foot to foot trying to come up with someone- anyone- who possibly fit this profile and then it happened.

A light bulb moment. A realisation. A solution to all your problems went off in your brain.

You grabbed the thing closest to you which was coincidentally spencer’s right forearm “Tell Hotch we need everyone back at the station as well as photos taken of all uniform officers from the past fifteen years, I need to get onto Garcia asap I think I know who our unsub is” Your tone was firm and merely unfamiliar to Spencer, you had never spoken to him like that before so he knew you meant business.

You had taken your phone out of your back pocket and turned in the direction of the car, starting to rush away from the ambulance before spencer caught up with you and caught your arm in his hand

“Where are you going?” Once said out loud he knew it was a stupid question and judging by the flat look on your face you did too. he let out a defeated sigh “No, I know exactly where you’re going but I mean what are you doing going back without the team?”

His eyes scanned your face and he dropped his head so the two of you were on the same level “If the unsub is a uniformed officer I’m not letting you go back to the station without the team. We don’t know if he’s out here with us right now or back a the station waiting” His tone was hushed and firm like he wanted to make sure neither of you could be heard but also to ensure you knew that he meant what he was saying.

“Spen-”

“No Y/N” He now stood at his full stature which you were now coming to realise could be quite intimidating “Do not argue with me about this. This guy, animal, absolute son of a bitch targets women, seemingly people he knows. You’re a local and started out as a uniformed officer in this precinct so if you genuinely think that there is even a slither of a chance that I’m going to let you walk back into that station you are very much mistaken” He was confident as assertive when he spoke to you and when he finished his chest started to rise and fall with frustrated breaths.

He had never spoken to you like that or told you what you could and couldn’t do, especially when it came to a case. Spencer adored you- practically worshiped the very ground you walked on- because he had the up most faith in you and respect for you. He was very confident in the fact that you could take care of yourself with or without a gun strapped to your belt.

You visibly deflated and let out a deep sigh neither of you were aware you were holding in. Spencer once again got down to your eye level

“Okay Spence, okay” you reassured him.

You caught sight of Morgan over Spencer’s shoulder and called to him

“Get the team back to the precinct and Garcia on the phone Derek!” your voice caught the attention of Gideon and JJ who was giving you a nod when you turn back to spencer and motion to get in the car.

While stopped at traffic lights Spencer dialled Garcia’s number and put it on speaker phone

“You have reached the resident genius what can I do for you my sweet?” Penelope’s voice sang through the phone and spencer made a face at the use of ‘resident genius’

“Pen I need you to pull up the most recent photos taken of the uniformed officers at this precinct and look for a white man, mid to late fifties with a clean cut haircut, deep set eyes and he’ll have scars that look like fingernail scratches at the base of his neck” you could feel spencer’s curious mind get the better of him when you included that last detail but you were determined not tot make your eyes off the road.

“Bingo baby! Nick Kane, fifty five years old standing at five foot nine with, exactly like you said, three long fingernail-like scars at the base of his neck” she stated a-matter-a-factly

A knowing smile came over your features “pull up anything you can find on him, a record, any house calls or complaints, anything that was maybe payed off or covered up”

“you seem to know a lot about this guy, L/N” Penelope quizzed

Reid could see the hesitation in your eyes as your grip tightened on the wheel

“Don’t question it” you said through gritted teeth

“Oh no I uh- I wasn’t”

Your eyes slightly widened “No pen, not you”

Garcia seemed to understand “I’ll have that faxed over for you my love”

A small smile found it’s way upon your lips “thank you P”

Spencer hung up the phone and looked out his window not noticing the glances you threw his way.

By the time you and Spence pulled up to the station you were in full on work mode. You were practically burning holes into the ground with your feet when you marched up to Morgan and Emily with your boyfriend hot on your heels.

“I need the both of you to get information on Nick Kane’s whereabouts on this afternoon’s patrol. Ask any officers or detectives if they saw him leave the station at what time and if they didn’t ask them when the last time they saw him was” The words tumbled out of your mouth and all your two friends could do was nod

Emily smiled proudly at you “all over it, Hotch is in there now but I’m not too sure he’s very successful” she nodded her head to the back where the interrogation rooms were. Derek nodded in agreement

“Garcia also said that the files you asked her to fax over are ready” Morgan read the text off his phone which earned a grateful smile from you before walking off to grab the papers with all three of your co workers following you with their eyes.

Derek turned back around to face spencer who had worry written all over his face “Alright man, what’s going on? we got the bad guy, no one was majorly hurt today which means you can rest easy tonight”

Spencer came back down to earth at the sound of his long-time friend’s voice. He sighed in defeat “We might have the bad guy, nothing is concrete right now even if he fits the profile, the victim was incredibly lucky that he only got her arm and hip and I can’t rest easy tonight because I know that Y/N is hiding something” Spencer’s hands flailed as he rambled, completely missing the look Emily gave him.

“Hiding something? Spence what are you talking about? If she was hiding something she’d be hiding it from us, not you. I genuinely don’t think theres anything in the world that you don’t know about her” Emily said trying to calm him even a little bit

“I thought you two agreed not to profile each other anyway? wasn’t that, like one of the first things you agreed on even when you were friends” Morgan raised an eyebrow

“This isn’t me being an FBI agent and profiling her, it’s me being her boyfriend and worrying about her. She’s taken his case to heart more than I thought she would. It hits too close to home for her” Spencer concluded while he scuffed his feet at the old carpet floor “And I know that there were women killed that she knew personally but her demeanor changed once she figured out who our potential unsub was and I can’t figure out why...” Spencer begins to trail off when his eyes follow Hotch leaving the interrogation room.

Emily and Morgan follow his eye line and begin to follow after him.

The first thing the doctor notices is that Hotch is more rigid than normal. His brow is furrowed low and his posture is stiff against the table he’s leaning on with his mouth set in a concrete frown and before he can register what just happened in the interrogation room three of his agents are standing in front of them asking for their co worker. A deep and tired sigh can be heard before the trio of agents is rushing toward the room where he just was, JJ and Gideon already watching the scene unfold from behind the two way glass.

A box with the last name Kane scribbled onto the front is slated down on the desk followed by a very angry agent.

The skin around her cuticles is bleeding from being picked at all day but her face is stern and cold so if she truly was as anxious as she had been through the day you would never know.

The dirty cop is relaxed when Y/N sits down in front of him, he’s leant back in the chair with his hands placed on his thighs casually almost as if he’s with a friend or at home and unknowingly to agent L/N her colleagues are less relaxed from behind the glass.

Morgan is first to point out the obvious.

“He doesn't seem nervous or even on edge about being questioned; shows he’s been in that same position before” he states, not taking his eye off the room

Gideon hesitates before he speaks “That’s because he has been: a few years ago he was brought in for substance possession after a bag was found during a warrant in his home”

Derek’s face contorts “why did they have a warrant?”

Agent Gideon doesn’t look at Morgan when he replies “illegal firearm possession as well as concerns of domestic violence both charges were dropped”

Your eyes briefly look up from the manila folder in your hands containing details of each of the murders in you hand to the man sitting in front of you. A picture of a middle aged woman is put directly in front of the officer “I don’t have to ask you if you know who this is because we know you were with her the night before she died” you state

Nick kisses his teeth “yes, I was with her the night before but I was also with her husband”

“her husband who has a solid alibi unlike you” another photo comes out from the folder “she went missing at five am and was found around seven thirty am in a bush, her husband had left for work at four thirty and clocked in five thirty”

Two more sets of photos are spread in front of the offender and he was only yet to shift in his seat. You kept eyeing the other folders in the box, the older ones but you were waiting for an opportunity one where he would just slip up and you’d have him.

Spencer’s nails may have well been chewed to the bed from pure anxiety of seeing you sit in that room. You’d obviously done interrogations like this before but a feeling that spencer couldn’t shake was sitting at the bottom of your stomach.

With Hotch now back in the room everyone was even more on edge.

“He hasn’t said anything useful while she’s been in there?” the monotone voice broke through the silence of the onlooking room.

“Not yet but the more photos she pulls out the more on edge he gets. Not noticeably to anyone but a profiler of course but he seemingly gets a little bit more uneasy every time a new victim is pulled out of the folder” JJ informs. Out of the corner of her eye she can see Reid chewing on his nails while not taking his eyes off of his girlfriend she slaps his hand away and passes a small smile to let him know that you knew what she was doing.

“Reid what’s the matter with you? She can take care of herself” Gideon calmly asks. The debate going on in the youngest team members head is a hard one because on one hand he doesn’t want to sound like a paranoid boyfriend but on the other he needs some reassurance and maybe his superiors can give that to him.

“Y/N has been on edge since we took this case on and I know it’s because she grew up here and there were people she grew up with murdered but since she got the idea into her head that this was our guy I just feel like she’s hiding something” the ramble stops and eyes fall on Reid but his only concern is what Jason Gideon thinks

Jason purses his lips “I know she’s hiding something but thought nothing of it because I was under the assumption that you knew what it was” for the first time since entering the room Spencer and Jason make eye contact.

“Your boss asked me about the scars on my neck”

Reid’s concentration is lost and once again all eyes are back on you

“Did he now?” Your shock is masked by the cold set frown that you’ve had on your face since the minute you stepped into the station.

Kane leans forward over the desk, his hands coming together infant of him “yes he did, was very curious to hear about how I got them which made me think: if Aaron Hotchner isn’t aware of how I got them then certainly your little boyfriend isn’t either” the smirk is set on his face

Reid’s ears perk up

“I was under the impression that you had to have a clean record to go into the FBI work that you do”

you lean forward in the slightest “My record is squeaky clean. Yours on the other hand, isn’t”

Eyebrows raise in surprise.

You pull another folder from the box but this time it’s dated back to seven years ago when domestic violence complaints first started getting called in. First piece of paper is pulled out and you continue to read.

“Complaints of screaming, excessive cussing from two of your neighbours, January 16th 2004, yet again complaints of screaming, cussing and loud bangs July 25th 2004, sudden screaming and what sounded like a heavy piece of furniture falling March 16th 2005, same thing November 21st and 25th, Glass shattering, shouting police are called but nothing gets further done August 2006″ you pause from your reading and look him dead in the eyes.

Left hand rubs forehead

Another folder.

“April 2007 a warrant was issued for your home for suspected possession of substances, charges dropped. Any further domestic violence complaints or charges were dropped after May that same year until September 2009 when your wife was sent to hospital with critical injuries; the matter was under further investigation until early January of 2010 when you wrote a cheque for $14,000 to get those charges dropped and cleared”

Hand rubs scars, obviously a nervous habit picked up after the incident

The man shifts in his seat again “Don’t think I’ve forgotten because I haven’t” the sentence grinds it’s way through his teeth

You merely relax your posture and speak calmly “Not my record, not my problem” a small smirk sits comfortably on your face. “We know what you did to these women, Nick. This case has your name written all over it.”

From the opposite side of the glass spencer wracks his brain to put all the pieces together “not my record, not my problem” he mumbles to no one in particular. The genius looks back on old conversations only to realise one topic that had never really come up in conversation between the two of you.

“The mother” he says out loud. Confused faces cast their attention to the doctor.

Spencer hesitates “When she talks about the record, she’s talking about her mother”

Emily raises an eyebrow “How’d you figure that?”

Gideon intercepts before his agent can even get a word in “You ever seen a man make scratches like that?”

“Know what I did? My family fell apart, I have no one” His hands slam on the table sitting between the both of you “I bet you don’t even know what you’re talking ab-”

This time it’s your turn to slam the desk

“I know damn well about the four counts of aggravated assault against an officer, the drug possession, the attempted fraud! I know every last fucking bit of it! I know you try to pull my brother in here to charge him with whatever you can! the number of vandalism charges and assault charges don’t even scratch the surface!” anger surges through you and suddenly Spencer has it all figured out.

“So what makes you so clean huh? Why does assault cover your immediate families records but not your own huh?!” He spits at you

You’ve had enough

Quick to stand, the chair you were sitting on suddenly slides back behind you, hands are planted firmly on the top of the table and now you’re standing right over him

JJ jumps back in fright straight into Derek who takes no time to grab her and steady her. Emily and Gideon are speechless, not once has anyone seen you react to something like that. Hotch places a firm hand on Spender’s shoulder which ultimately goes unnoticed. He gets it now.

Colour drains from his face

“I’m better at controlling my temper but I’ll still hit you twice as hard” the words flow out of your mouth so calmly anyone standing outside the door might think you were talking to a frightened child.

Eyes search for any sign of remorse and find none

Garcia calls Derek’s phone to let him and the team know that while Ellie had escaped, Nick got sloppy and left something behind.

Gideon’s voice filters through your earpiece “DNA was found on Ellie”

You can’t help but smile

“Your DNA has just been found on your most recent victim Nick, you’ve got nothing left”

Got him.

The box of files is in your hands when you walk out of the interrogation room and practically body slam your boyfriend. Kind eyes look down at you pleadingly “Got given the all clear to go home, do you want to have a chat?” the sentence is just above a whisper but the genuine worried expression etched upon his face is all you need to know.

Spencer starts the engine before driving out of the carpark and onto the road. Thick silence sits in the air and all of a sudden the car feels to small even though you are the only two in it. Mindlessly picking at your fingernails means you didn’t notice Spencer pulling into the McDonalds drive through to order two hot fudge sundaes with extra topping - your tradition after a particularly difficult case. He wordlessly hands you the tray while he picks the furtherest car park in the parking lot and stops the car. You hand him his ice cream and noticing his chewed nails you grab his hand.

“Spence”

“Watching you in there today was one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do but knowing that you felt like you couldn’t come to me based off of the fact that you thought I-I would be upset or angry or not understanding was something that I don’t know how to deal with” He grabs the ice cream tray off of your lap and places them in the cup holder before unbuckling his seatbelt and turning his full attention to you.

“Y/N you mean the world to me, truly you do, I can’t think of anyone else in this world I would want to spend the rest of my life with so I’m telling you now that I love you unconditionally and I want you to know that even if that didn't happen today and you didn't feel like you would be able to tell me about your family I would happily wait for as long as you needed me to until you felt like you were ready for that and I’m sorry that he felt the need to say it in front of myself and our team.

His hands are cold against your flushed face and you flutter your eyes closed momentarily before looking hime in the eye.

“I didn't want this to affect my work life or the opinions of our team or your opinion of me I was- well I- I hid it because I want to prove to people that I can come from a household like that and still be a good person. a good agent” your confession made his eyes glass over and his smile soften.

“You have proved yourself time and time again to not only me but to the team. You handled it so well today even after what he chose to say to you. Y/N I am so unbelievably proud of you and the person you are, nothing is going to change that” His thumb stroked your cheek before he giggled to himself

“Plus telling him that you could hit him twice as hard was pretty hot I’m not gonna- hey! no! I’m being serious”

The sound of your laughs filled the car and the once heavy feeling was now light and airy when he brought your lips to his.

“Spence, these ice creams are gonna melt and I want to eat them”

#long reads #spencer x y/n #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #reid x reader #doctor reid #criminal minds #criminal minds fic #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid angst #pegswrites

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cobaltusami · 3 years

Text

Tropical Vacation pt. 7

Hey hi hello! This part was very delayed thanks to my laptop being a tool. I'm writing on a tablet computer hooked up to my tv now lol.

This part is pretty shippy too, Big shocker right? But It's Ishimondo and I couldn't resist--

Characters in this part: Lee!Taka, Ler!Mondo, Makoto, Leon, Hina, Akane, Sakura, Mahiru, Chiaki, Hiro, Nekomaru, Nagito, Hajime, Kazuichi

Word count: 1,803

Part 1: [Click or tap here!] Part 2: [Click or tap here!] Part 3: [Click or tap here!] Part 4: [Click or tap here!] Part 5: [Click or tap here!] Part 6: [Click or tap here!] Part 7: You are here.

Shortly after arriving back from waking up the two dorky gays, they showed up In the dining hall. Fuyuhiko sat down next to Peko after a small greeting and Hajime sat between Nagito and Mahiru, most likely whispering a small threat to the Lucky student for embarrassing them this morning.

“Where the heck were you? You worried us!” Mahiru complained, smacking Hajime upside the head.

Hajime yelped, rubbing the back of his head. “S-Sorry, I lost track of time…”

A few students at the table barely managed to stifle their laughter, others-- Leon, Ibuki, and Hiyoko, didn’t even try to.

“Making girls worry about you.… not cool Hajime.” Nagito chided, crossing his arms as he gave the boy next to him a look akin to a disappointed mother.

Hajime whipped around to face Nagito, His expression unreadable. “Nagito…”

Chiaki reached around Nagito, digging her fingers into Hajime’s side warningly. “Don’t threaten him.”

Nagito giggled as he watched Hajime’s face turn bright red, a small yelp slipping past his lips as he inched away from them, now nearly on the edge of his seat to avoid her fingers.

“Chiaki, don’t torture Hajime this early In the morning.” Nekomaru warned lightly, Chiaki pouted as she pulled her hand back, seemingly complying.

Hiro chuckled at this. “Looks like you’re the parent of the friend group…”

“Parent? Nah, he’s more like the big brother of the group.” Kazuichi responded. “Mahiru Is the parent of the group.”

“I am not!” Mahiru frowned. “I don’t have the stamina to mother all of you hoodlums.”

“Did she just use the word hoodlum unironically?” Makoto whispered to Kazuichi.

“I heard that Naegi! Just because you’re not In my class doesn’t mean I can’t reprimand you too!”

Makoto squeaked and shrunk back in his seat as she began to lecture both him and Kazuichi.

Celeste giggled as she sipped her tea. “I like her.”

“She’s certainly… Passionate.” Kyoko agreed, taking a sip of her own tea as she watched with amusement.

After breakfast was over, class 77 sent away the other class so they could plan the party. Nekomaru went with them to make sure Mondo left Sakura and Hina alone, he could’ve sworn that Mondo was just Akane but In guy form.

Speaking of Akane… where did she run off to?

As Nekomaru glanced around looking for the spitfire, he lost sight of Sakura and Hina. So at that point he decided to just stick around Mondo and keep an eye on him that way.

Currently the biker was walking along the beach with Taka, the pair looking for seashells or something corny like that.

Hiro approached the team manager casually. “So, You’re the brother of the group huh?”

“I guess so.” He responded with a chuckle.

“I’m the brother of my group too.” Hiro smiled. “They’re all a bunch of dorks aren’t they?”

“That would be an understatement.” Nekomaru retorted. “But they’re my dorks.”

“Even though sometimes they drive you nuts with how they behave.”

“Between Akane, Gundham, Kazuichi, Nagito and Fuyuhiko, I don’t know which one Is more misbehaved.”

Hiro chuckled. “Yeah, Mondo, Leon, and Hina are pretty chaotic too. Mondo has been on a war path since having that endurance challenge with Taka, He wrecks everyone with tickles man, It’s horrible.”

“That’s nothing! Fuyuhiko threatened to stab Nagito last week for teasing him and helping Hajime tickle him.” Nekomaru retorted.

“Hahaha! Last time we tried to take down Mondo he concussed Makoto.”

The two began sharing stories about their nerds, thus taking Neko’s attention off of Mondo. He and Taka snuck off to the park and sat down on the bench together.

They sat In silence for a bit, Just enjoying each other’s company. But eventually Taka let out a small happy sigh. “I really like this Island. What do you think about It, Kyoudai?”

“Eh?” Mondo turned his attention to his totally platonic not at all homosexual In the slightest best friend. “It beats the school so far.” He shrugged slightly, resting his arms across the back of the bench.

Taka took this as a cue to scoot a little closer, Mondo’s fingers grazed his shoulder opposite to him motioning for him to get even closer. He kept inching closer, each time Mondo would repeat the motion.

Even when their bodies were pressed against each other. “Mondo, If I get any closer to you I will be in your lap.” Taka finally said.

“I’d be okay with that.” He replied cheekily, resting his hand on his shoulder to hold him.

Totally platonic.

No homo, as they say.

Taka rolled his eyes as he rested his head against his shoulder, wrapping his arms around his middle. Mondo fully moved his arm to wrap around Taka’s shoulders now. “I bet you would.” he muttered under his breath.

“What was that?”

“Nothing.” Taka smiled innocently up at the biker.

Mondo narrowed his eyes in suspicion as he slowly let the subject drop and relaxed again. “I guess I like that the Island Is big, doesn’t feel as fuckin’ cramped as the school.” He said, returning to the previous topic.

“I agree! And It’s so nice to feel the sun again.”

“Yea, and the fresh air Is nice too.” He conceded. “It’d be even better If I had my bike though, then I could finally take ya for that ride I promised.”

Taka tensed up, he never particularly cared for the idea of riding with Mondo. “Y-Yeah, such a shame.” He replied quietly.

It’s not that he didn’t trust him or anything, It’s just the thought of being on a motorcycle scared him a bit.

“S-So uh… What do you think of the classmates?” Taka asked, trying to change the subject before Mondo noticed his nervousness about motorized bikes.

Smooth.

“They seem alright, What do you think of ‘em? I trust your judgement more than mine.” Mondo asked, glancing down at the boy.

Taka pulled back slightly, looking up at Mondo with big eyes. “R-Really??”

“I mean, Yea. You’re a better judge of character than I am..”

He wasn’t expecting the next reaction.

Taka pulled back, prodding at his stomach incessantly. “Kyoudai! You should trust yourself and your opinion more!” he scolded.

Mondo yelped, his arms shooting down to block off his midsection from the Moral Compass. “EY! Will you cut that out??” He grabbed hold of Taka’s wrists and held his hands away from him.

He yanked on his wrists, pulling the smaller of the two Into his lap with a yelp. “Y’know, If you wanted me to tickle ya, Ya coulda just asked.” He smirked, coiling his arms around his prey.

“W-Wait! No! Mohohohondo!” Taka burst Into giggles as his fingers ghosted over his ribs.

“Yea, Kyoudai?” He hummed, digging into his ribs more firmly. “What’s up?”

“Hehehehahahaha! Dohohohon’t!” He whined through his giggles, blushing.

Mondo leaned forward, dusting small kisses across his neck. (what was exposed of it anyways) whilst unbuttoning his jacket, “Y’know, technically you don’t gotta wear the uniform right? We’re not in school right now.” he commented as he tugged the jacket off and dumped it unceremoniously onto the bench next to them,

Taka was too busy giggling to protest, as embarrassing as he found being tickled, he actually did enjoy it. Especially If it was Mondo doing the tickling.

He slipped his fingers under Taka’s white tee and ran them teasingly across his belly. “There, Don’t ya feel better now that you aren’t burning alive under that coat?”

Taka shook his head as he collapsed back against his chest, his giggling ramping up.

“No? Well fuck bro, I’m not sure what else I can do to help ya.” Mondo pretended to think about it. “Are your sides hurting? You want me to massage ‘em for ya?”

“N-Nohohohohoho! My sihihihides are fine!” Taka yelped, his arms wrapping around his midsection defensively.

“You suuuure? If they’re real achy, a nice massage will do wonders~” He purred, resuming his barrage of small tickly kisses to his neck.

Taka rested his head back against Mondo’s shoulder as he laughed. “Ihihihihihim suhuhuhure! Ahahahaha!”

Mondo pinched and prodded at his lean stomach and hip bones, smiling at the squeals and musical laughter it brought about. “A’ight, guess I’ll have to find another way to make ya happy.” He responded nonchalantly, withdrawing his hands momentarily only to shove them under his arms and dig into the sensitive skin.

“AAH! Mohohohohondohohoho!” He shrieked, his body doubling over as It attempted to get away from the tickles.

“Yea bro?” He snickered.

“Ihihihihihit tihihihihickles!” Taka whined through his laughter, trying to escape from Mondo’s lap to no avail.

“Uh yea bro, It’s fuckin’ supposed to.” He grinned cheekily, as soon as Taka tried to push his way to freedom, he pounced. His fingers descend cruelly on his sensitive sides, drawing a scream from the strict student.

“KYAHAHAHAHAHAHA! WAHAHAHAIT DOHOHOHOHN’T!”

“Don’t wait? I gotcha bro.” He chuckled, then leaned closer to whisper In Taka’s ear. “You wanna experience all the nice tickles, Right?”

Taka’s face grew even more red, If that was humanly possible. That bitch, I mean he wasn’t wrong but how dare he call Taka out like that?

“Hah, Gaaaaaay!”

Mondo paused his attack on poor Taka and looked up, spotting Leon across the way near an island bridge. “Leon, Fuck off. Unless you wanna be next.”

“Oh, I’m not worried.” Leon grinned. “I think you have other targets ahead of me.”

“Oh yea? Like who?”

As if waiting for that exact moment, Taka bolted out of his hold with Hina’s help. The moment he was free, A bucket of water was dumped onto Mondo, ruining his hair.

He shrieked in surprise as he jumped up, he whipped around to find the culprits.

Akane was cackling whilst she and Sakura stood there holding the tub. “I warned you I was gonna get you.” The white haired girl smiled.

“Oh, You’re so fucking dead!” He roared, jumping over the back of the bench to get the martial artist, but he ended up slipping and falling in the grass due to being soaking wet..

“Kyoudai!” Taka yelped, getting down next to him to check him for injuries.

Hina giggled evilly as the girls hurried off. Leon also disappeared, apparently he chose the side of chaos today.

Mondo sighed as he sat up and pushed his hair back out of his face.

“Are you okay?!”

“Yea, I’m fine.” He reassured him. “Sakura’s not gonna be when I get a hold of her though.”

Taka sighed in relief. Well at least he knew Mondo was actually okay and not just saying that. “Come on, Let’s get back to the hotel so you can change. Then we can get revenge.”

Mondo grinned at Taka, planting a kiss against his lips. “I fuckin’ love ya.”

Yes… No homo indeed.

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isitgintimeyet · 4 years

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Just A Friend

The response to this story has been lovely, so thank you all for reading. liking, reblogging and commenting on this piece of fluff. Hope you continue to enjoy.

Thanks to @wickedgoodbooks for the beta

AO3

Chapter 6: From Irritation to Interrogation

And just like that, we’re friends, Jamie and I. It’s strange how quickly you can go from strangers to acquaintances to friends. After that walk in the park, something seems to have clicked with us, there’s an ease in our friendship that doesn’t happen too often. Despite our vastly different upbringings, we have many things in common: a shared love of irreverent comedy, a fondness for very good quality chocolate and wine and a determination to succeed in our chosen careers.

Of course, it helps that we don’t have the whole fancying-sexual-tension-romantic thing lurking in the background. As I’ve said before, Jamie is not my type and, judging by the pictures on his Facebook timeline, I am definitely not his, which appears to be doe-eyed, tanned, petite blondes— their pneumatic breasts frequently struggling to break free from their restraints. No tall, wild-haired brunettes with only-slightly-above-average breasts usually firmly encased in sensible lingerie.

I may even invite him to Geillis’ wedding as my plus one. We’ll see. I don’t think I’ll be dating by then, I quite fancy a few months without any of those complications.

********

One of life’s pleasures, for me, when I’m not on-call, is to walk to the local newsagents on a Sunday morning for the newspaper. If it’s fine, it’s another opportunity to sit on my balcony and read it at my leisure. A mug of freshly brewed coffee and a cinnamon bun enhances this experience.

Today, it’s not so fine, but sitting on my sofa while listening to the rain pounding against the window is pretty good too. I’m just about to start the crossword when my phone rings. I quickly swallow my mouthful of bun and glance at the screen—private number. I offer up a silent prayer that it’s not the hospital as I answer it.

“Claire Beauchamp?” The female voice sounds familiar.

“Yes.” I answer cautiously.

“Jes’ a wee word of warning. Karma can be a bitch, ye ken.” The voice grows louder and angrier. I recognise that tone, last heard berating Jamie. “Ye’ll get what ye deserve. Ye canna trust James Fraser, but ye’ll find out soon enough—the hard way, like I did… thanks tae ye.”

“Look, I—“ I begin, but before I can finish my sentence, she’s gone.

My initial reaction is irritation. Laoghaire, no doubt looking around for someone to blame for her recent break up, has cast me in the role of home wrecker, clearly using my carefully honed feminine wiles to lure Mr. Fraser from her clutches. Like Frank, she can’t quite believe that anyone could break up with her, without there being another waiting in the wings, ready and willing to take her place.

My irritation dissipates as I begin to see the funny side of this. She’s obviously thought long and hard about this—checking his Facebook friends, keeping records of his phone calls when they were together. Perhaps she sees herself as Jennifer Aniston against my Angelina. I hope Jamie can see this for what it is and laugh. Besides, in this scenario, that makes Jamie what? Brad Pitt?

*****************

Two days later, Jamie and I have arranged to have a quick drink after work in a mutually convenient bar. Summer has not yet returned to the city. Whilst not actually raining, the air is damp and there’s a definite nip in the air. I do a cursory check of the outdoor seating, just to see whether Jamie is heroically braving the elements, but there’s no sign of him.

I make my way into the bar and have a quick walk around before snagging a corner table. The seats are comfortable and it’s in a prime position for me to keep an eye out for his arrival. This bar has always been one of my favourites in the city. It feels grounded, like it’s been here forever. The stone walls and dark oak beams are unchanging and watching the inebriated trying to negotiate the uneven wooden floor on their way to the toilets always makes for good entertainment. In fact, people come from miles around to marvel at its very crookedness.

I check my phone for any messages. There’s one from Geillis, accepting my invitation for girls’ night on Friday at my flat. I reply and put the phone down just in time to see Jamie heading toward me. He’s obviously come straight from work as he’s still in his navy blue suit and white shirt. I’ve come straight from work too but am not nearly so smartly dressed. Having worn my blue scrubs all day, I’m now clad in jeans and a wrap around top which used to be orange, but has faded to a light amber colour. I feel somewhat underdressed next to him.

“Drink?” He asks, before even sitting down.

I nod. “I’m parched. Think I’ll have a shandy, please.”

“Lager shandy? Half pint?”

“Bitter,” I clarify, not being a great believer in girlie drinks. “And pint.”

He returns a couple of minutes later with a pint and a packet of crisps in each hand.

He takes a huge slug of beer. “Sae, what do ye ken? What’s new wi’ ye?”

And so, I recount my day of surgery to him. And, bless him, he looks interested all the way through my narration. He does turn a bit pale as I begin to explain my use of the bone mallet and chisel, and his crisps remain untouched, but he soldiers through.

“In other news,” I change the subject as his colour returns and he rips the crisps open. “I had an anonymous phone call from your ex, warning me about you and blaming me for your break up. But, never fear, I’ll get what’s coming to me when you do the same to me—“

A bout of coughing from Jamie breaks into my conversation. I get up and thump his back a couple of times. The coughing stops as he takes a swig of beer.

“Sorry,” he clears his throat and continues. “Crisp stuck in ma throat. She did what? How does she ken who ye are?”

“Presumably she kept a record of your phone calls and is monitoring your Facebook friends. Maybe you need to check your phone, see if she’s set up any other little apps so she can track where you are or what you’re doing.”

He shakes his head. “Aye, I’ll do that. I canna believe she would go tae such lengths. Although…” he pauses for a moment. “... mebbe I can. She was always the, er, suspicious type—asking me about women at work, convinced they were ready tae pounce on me. Perhaps I’m not the best judge of character, Claire. Ye need tae advise me.”

I laugh. “Ok. I’ll be your wingman, if you like. Or vet all your potential girlfriends. How about that?”

Jamie joins in with the laughter. His eyes twinkle and it’s funny the way he wrinkles his nose as he laughs.

“How about you? How’re the Spanish influenced dinners going? What are you up to?” I ask him.

“The plans are going grand. We’ve three dinner options planned out.” As usual, his face lights up as he explains the various menus to me.

“They all sound delicious. I’m looking forward to trying them.” And that's the truth.

“Weel, funny ye should mention that. We are looking fer people willing tae test them. How about it? Fancy trying one out? This week, mebbe? Free, of course.”

My weekend plans are getting better and better. Girls’ night at my flat could be turning into a bit of a Spanish fiesta, a mini replay of our Barcelona trip.

“I’d love that. Thanks. I’m having Geillis, Mary and Anna ‘round on Friday for a catch up. I could give you their opinion on the meal too.”

Jamie types something into his phone. “Great, I’ll sort it. So, good weekend plans then?”

“Oh yes, what about you?”

“Oh, I’ve got a sort of date type thing,” he mumbles into his pint and, to my surprise he goes a little bit red. Is he worried about telling me? Does he think that I will mind?

“That’s nice...isn’t it?”

“I dinna ken, really. I… I suppose so. It’s ma sister, Jenny’s, idea. A friend of hers from university. Ma sister canna quite believe that I’m no’ yet married and she keeps trying tae make it happen. And Jenny, weel, let’s jes’ say that she’s a force of nature. Ye dinna want tae mess wi’ her.”

***************

I’m not exactly the most gifted cook, but I think it would be hard to go wrong with the box of food and wine that Jamie has delivered. The asparagus is waiting to be cooked, the mouth-watering smell from the simmering chicken and chorizo fills my flat and bowls of juicy Spanish olives— some plain and some with garlic and chilli are dotted about the dinner table. Feeling inspired, I root out a large jug and begin to cut up fruit for sangria.

Like alcohol-seeking missiles, I’ve no sooner prepared the sangria when the doorbell rings. With many hugs, Geillis, Mary, Anna and I greet each other. I accept their gifts of wine, chocolate and flowers as we head into the flat.

As usual, everyone gravitates to the kitchen as I pass the drinks around, complimenting me on the wonderful aromas. Geillis’ stomach rumbles in eager anticipation.

When the four of us are together, the conversation flows as freely as the wine. Honestly, you would swear that we had not seen each other for months, when, in fact, I saw Anna on Tuesday in theatre, and squeezed in a coffee catch-up with Mary and Geillis only two days ago. The topics we cover are wide-ranging and random. Sangria and olives are accompanied by Anna’s search for a new flat, then the conversation turns to the destructive tendencies of Mary’s kitten as I serve the asparagus and Serrano ham starter.

For the main course, we have the tale of Geillis’ father refusing to wear a kilt for her wedding—he is prepared to don tartan trews but, according to Geillis, that will spoil the whole symmetry of the wedding photos. Neither, at the moment, seem willing to back down but, having known Geillis for so many years, it’s obvious to me who will win.

By the time I bring out the selection of Spanish biscuits and turrón, the conversation has moved on to men, more specifically Mary’s crush on a locum doctor newly arrived in the department. There’s a lot of good natured teasing about this—Mary seems to develop a new crush every couple of weeks, and why not?

Geillis drains her wine and turns to me. “Fantastic meal, Claire. Better than yer usual offerings.”

She pulls me close to her as she says this, and squeezes my arm to show she’s joking.

“Well, I have to confess. I did have a bit of assistance. I mean, I did the cooking, apart from the cookies, but everything came from FraserFood.”

“In that case, give me those chocolates back. I’m no’ sure ye’ve earned them.”

“But I have,” I moan. “I did all the cooking…and made sangria.” I reach across Geillis and help myself to another biscuit. They are melt-in-the-mouth delicious.

“It’s part of a new range they’re launching,” I try to explain as Anna and Mary start to squabble over the last biscuit. “Three course dinner party boxes. Everything you need. Jamie asked if I would test one of them out—“

Immediately Anna and Mary shut up, the last biscuit now abandoned on the plate.

“Woo-hoo,” Anna grins at me.

Geillis nudges me in the ribs. “Jamie, is it? And what else has Jamie given ye, eh?”

“Nothing, we’re friends, that’s it.”

“But we’ve seen pictures of him. Don’t ye want there tae be more tae it? I mean, c’mon look at him.” Now Mary joins in the questioning.

I sigh. “We can just be friends, you know.”

“Friends with benefits, mebbe?” Geillis isn’t giving up.

“No, just friends. Although…” my friends lean forward expectantly, perhaps awaiting some heartfelt confession from me, as if I’d suddenly realised my undying love, or, at least, a good bit of lust for Mr. Fraser. They’re going to be disappointed.

“...Although, I suppose you could say this free food and drink is a benefit. So,yes, I guess that makes us friends with benefits.”

Anna and Geillis look as if they don’t believe me, but say nothing. Mary isn’t prepared to drop the subject.

“So,” she starts. “So, suppose I meet yer—“

“Not mine,” I mutter under my breath.

Mary shrugs her shoulders and continues, “—yer Jamie Fraser. And suppose he asks me out and one thing leads tae another… ye’re telling us that ye wouldna mind?”

“No, I wouldn’t mind. Might be a bit awkward if you break up. I mean, can I still be friends with both of you?”

Geillis, laughing, joins in now. “Suppose our Mary marries Jamie Fraser and asks ye tae be a bridesmaid. Would ye mind then?”

I pretend to give this some thought. “Ah, now that does depend. Just how awful will the bridesmaid dress be, Mary?”

“Och, just hideous. We’ll be having a Disney themed wedding.”

All talking and laughing at once, we try to decide which would be the worst Disney outfit for a bridesmaid and finally settle on Moana.

I get up from the table to go and make coffee, but not before making one final statement on the whole platonic situation with Jamie.

“Look, I know it’s hard to believe, but I have no romantic interest in Jamie and neither does he. In fact, he told me that he’s got a date this weekend and that’s totally fine with me.”

Geillis grabs my hand in passing. “Ok, as long as ye’re fine. We jes’ dinna want ye getting hurt, Claire. We love ye too much fer that.”

I smile at my closest friends gathered around my table and feel a rush of warmth and love for them too. They’re my family, these girls, and, for all the joking and teasing, they have my best interests at heart.

“I know. Thank you for looking out for me. But, Jamie and I are friends, nothing more.”

And with that I head into the kitchen, giving Anna, Mary and Geillis, no doubt, the opportunity to continue to speculate about Jamie’s and my friendship. But really I don’t mind, they’ll get fed up soon enough when they see I’ve been telling the truth all along.

#outlander fanfiction #outlander fanfic #Just A Friend #Jamie Fraser #Claire Beauchamp #Chapter 6

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amphtaminedreams · 4 years

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A/W 2020 Fashion Month: Before Vogue Went Blank

Hi to anyone reading,

I’m sorry this post is so late! I really have no excuse apart from all my mental energy being taken up by shooting and editing my Euphoria lookbook up until now and me being too much of a lazy, nap-loving twat to face the mammoth task of a fashion month review; honestly, by the time it’s done, it’s like a dissertation-level amount of characters, so let’s say the final push to get this out is in sympathy with all my 3rd year friends I started uni with finishing their ACTUAL dissertations.

Things have got scary since I originally started saving the photos for this post, and the world has been turned upside down. In response to the COVID-19 pandemic, the likes of which have not been seen since the Spanish Flu, Italian Vogue’s April cover was blank. As I’m writing this, 26,000+ people have died of coronavirus in Italy, the worst affected country behind the U.S in terms of sheer numbers ( though quick update: as I post this, I’m pretty sure our incompetent prick of a PM has made sure we’re up there too). Proportionally, the actual death rate is even higher, along with a handful of other European countries. There have been some complaints made about the cover and it’s supposed “lack of imagination”; all I know is that in a country whose death toll accounts for 10% of worldwide coronavirus deaths, something of a visual silence feels appropriate.

That being said, for me, writing is one of the only things giving me a sense of purpose right now. Yeah, surprise surprise, working in a grocery store isn’t all that fulfilling. Who would’ve thought it? So what better time to reflect on a time when all the rich people of the world were going about their lives as usual and sitting front row at fashion week rather than crying on Instagram live to their millions of followers about how trapped they feel in their 10 bedroom mansions.

I’ve got to say, this year’s A/W offerings were a lot better than I expected, mostly due to the fact that I’m not generally a big fan of winter fashion; it’s hard to be disappointed given my preconceptions! There’s only so many knits and coats and jeans you can see before it begins to get a bit tiring, and I expected that to be reflected in the presentations. Fortunately, even the brands which are known for their bohemian, Coachella-esque collections generally managed to translate that into something recognisable and consistent on the runway whilst actually being weather appropriate. Of course, there were a few disappointments-I’m sure if I say one of them begins with D, you can guess which brand I’m talking about-but that was more than made up for by the standouts. Gucci in particular was my 2013 Tumblr wet dream and the Moschino show was what I can only describe as a live continuation of Sofia Coppola’s Marie Antoinette, though I’ll stop with my praise there and wait til I get to actually reviewing before I go overboard with kissing Alessandro Michele’s ass. And on that note, in chronological order, I’ll get one with the reviews! First up, Acne:

Continuing on a winning streak when it comes to catering to my personal preferences (if someone tries to tell me designers don’t care about my personal preferences I’m going to whack out that “just found out the world doesn’t revolve around me, shocked and upset” Marina Diamandis tweet), Acne once again channels futuristic hippy commune living in a dystopian wasteland. I know, those are very specific personal preferences

I love the shredded hems and the burnt velvet, the rawness of it all, and the baroque/your-nan’s-wallpaper patterns are actually a surprisingly nice touch. I imagine if Giselle from Enchanted had to make her dresses out of a thrifty goth’s curtains rather than an upper-middle-class New Yorker’s, they’d look something like this collection. You’ve even got the odd bit of classic fresh Scandi tailoring in there with the oversized coats and blazers which holds it back from being a bit TOO flea market. Plus, the renaissance painting detailing on the black leather-look coat is a stunning detail as well; I’m so glad it seems this trend is here to stay, why wouldn’t I want random nude bodies all over my clothes?

As for the styling, I can’t get enough of the tousled hair. As an eternally tired person who can't be arsed to pick up a brush most of the time, I feel represented. Along with the outfits, it says “I’m an art student/transient painter in the 70s living in a city loft who smokes a lot of weed and does acid on the regular” and that is a life worth manifesting.

Alberta Ferretti was dreamy, and a perfect example of how to translate the bohemian aesthetic of their S/S show to A/W. Somehow despite the furs, ruffles (pussy-bows under tailored jackets and knits/generally heavier pieces always looks really chic imo), tulle, metallic tapestry style prints and chunky jewellery, it all still looks very effortless, like a natural continuation of what we saw last summer; the typically masculine structure of the oversized suits with the ornate patterns and the accessories lends to the careful navigation along the line where maximalism and minimalism meet, the looks as practical as they are decorative. Picture it: you work some high-flying, powerful job in the city, commute on a motor cycle and roll up in one of these suit sets. This collection is for the edgy businesswoman who is completely comfortable telling all the twattish males she works with where to stick it and I want to be her.

The evening gowns are, of course, stunning too. In this analogy where I am a powerful businesswoman and not a pushover who works at a grocery store right now and only beefs with rude customers, I would be wearing one of them to the boujie work Christmas party. The ruffled dresses remind me of something Valentino would put out with the colour palette and the ruffles, and whilst we’re on the topic of colour palettes, this one is beautiful. The lilac and hot pink is SO right.

Though predictable, Alessandra Rich is just as much of a treat as usual, the first brand you’d go to if you were styling a throwback it-girl, Chanel Oberlin in Scream Queens if it took place 30 years earlier. Reminiscent of an amalgamation of vintage Chanel and Versace, there are so many cute details I love here, from the white tights with the black heels and the double breasted blazers to the gold chainlink belts and the pearls. The tartan suits with the shoulder padding are very Heathers, the prints the best of your mum’s 80s wardrobe, and nobody else out there is doing bows as well as this; these are the outfits that prissy bitch wears in the cartoons of my childhood that turn out to actually be quite good fashion inspo 15 years later, Trixie Tang from Fairly Odd Parents I’m looking at you.

This girl was the blueprint.

I think someone like Lilly Collins or Daphne Groeneveld would be an ideal fit for any of these looks, or Lana Del Rey if she wanted to stop serving us middle-aged suburban soccer mom and took us back to those H&M ad campaign days. Lana stans please don’t come for me for saying that, I am one of you; I say this because I love her. It’s all altruistic.

Whilst I admittedly didn’t love it as much as last summer’s, I really enjoyed the Alexander McQueen collection too, plus I had a better idea of what to expect this time round; no, we’re not gonna get a repeat of the Plato’s Atlantis show but we do always get some beautiful pieces. Again, like with Alberta Ferretti, this seems like a natural continuation of what we saw in the summer, just with adjustments made for the colder, darker, and altogether moodier months. A/W being the gothier older sister of S/S, it seems right that a lot of the looks turn their back on the ethereal, almost fairy-like feel of what we saw before and embrace the vampier side, reds and blacks (the ultimate Bratz Rock Angels colour combination), plenty of dramatic structures and formidable suit sets. It’s punk but it’s classy, and even with the lighter pieces, we’ve got the grunge inspired harnesses on top to contrast with the elegance and effectively, toughen the whole look up, something Gucci does well too.

The patterned suits with the clunky boots in particular are very cool and I need a gun metal grey heart detailing harness, but undoubtedly the MOMENT of this collection is Adut Akech in what appears to be a silver chainmail dress. She looks like an Amazonian goddess, and whilst I could never dream of pulling something like that off myself, I could happily admire her in it for hours.

There wasn’t much to get excited about at Altuzarra. The collection was very elegant for sure and the feathered belts are cute but it was all quite pedestrian and nothing new-the only detail I really like is the cut out on the second dress from the left, 3rd row down.

As for Anna Sui:

I’m not altogether sure why I wanted to review it. A lot of the outfits as a whole are a bit messy, and not in that avant-garde, expensive-looking Margiela kind of way, just in a “how many fabrics can we possibly get on this model” kind of way. Plus, the styling seems weirdly outdated-a lot of the jewellery looks like the kind of thing you’d see if you searched “gothic choker” on Ebay and ordered the results from low to high, and the makeup and hair in particular is very 2012 Tumblr fashion blogger. Backcombed hair and red lipstick? We’ve got a Zoella thumbnail on our hands.

When the collection did go down the bohemian route though (and when that route wasn’t a failed attempt at what Etro does a lot better), there were a few nice pieces and prints. I mean you really can��t go wrong with a teal fur trimmed coat.

Ashish, on the other hand, took their aesthetic from a similar era and did it a lot more creatively and kookily; this collection looks a lot more deserving of being on a runway. The prints are so loud and costume-y that at times the garments risk looking like something you’d wear at a decades themed dress up party, but they’re saved by understated and much more commercial silhouettes, plus some gorgeous hair and make up. On the whole, very groovy, unintentional disco queen, despite the few risks that didn’t quite pay off.

Next is a brand I always look forward to. In the words of Myrtle Snow:

BALENCIAGA!

Seriously though, if any brand knows how to blend costume and high fashion, it’s them. They take over-the-top, almost absurd silhouettes and turn them into theatre. This year we’re taking it in the direction of Phantom of the Opera, I guess? Dracula? The Woman in Black? An off-broadway production of Harry Potter where Snape is the protagonist? Whatever the direction of the collection is, I live for the dramatics of it all. Demna Gvasalia got these models walkin’ down the runway like they’re members of the Volutri, which is a reference you should all understand given the renaissance Twilight is having online atm.

Straight off the bat, I adore the staging, and all the models are exquisite-the theme of the show was climate change, and I always love when there’s a story behind the presentation of the clothes. I can’t imagine how amazing this must have been to witness in person, though I’m guessing equal parts mystical and intimidating. There are so many things I love here: billowing coats, cinched in waists, the pattens that are sprinkled sparingly in amongst the black, and the bloody shoulder pads that almost run PARALLEL to the model’s necks. This is really a collection that Myrtle Snow would be proud of and brb whilst I get rid of my padlock necklaces in favour of putting whatever meagre amount I can get for them on Depop towards a Balenciaga padlock belt (as if, lol, I don’t even think selling my soul would cover it).

And then there’s Balmain, which isn’t always the fashion critic’s favourite, but which I do tend to like.

I mean there are some really good takeaways here-though the 80s inspired suit, as wearable as they are, can get a little repetitive, they are staples which here seem to pave the way for Olivier Rousteing to try something new for the brand. The moulded breast plates (reminiscent of the Tom Ford one Zendaya wore though I’m not sure which came first!), for example, along with the Matador-style capes and the flowing silk dresses are the most glamorous incarnation of Lara Croft one can possibly imagine, probably just as equally suited for a Roman goddess as they are for an Assassins Creed style action heroine. And yes, I am aware of the fact that Tomb Raider and Assassins Creed are two separate games, okay! I just don’t know enough about the visuals of either to firmly plant this collection in the camp of either one, so I’m going down the crossover route with it!

Not to say there weren’t any bad choices-I omitted a good portion of the looks that were shown; there were definitely pieces that I found to be a little tacky, particularly a recurring chain print which has got to be one of my least favourite patterns out there. Overall, though, it’s gonna be the richly coloured art-deco prints, the wet-look boots and the gem-encrusted scorpion brooch which stick with me, so I’ll let it slide.

Bottega Veneta was very meh; even of the looks I picked out, there are a lot I’m now looking back at and wishing I hadn’t included. Some of the men’s pieces are nice, sure, and I feel like one of those vaguely sick, victorian ghost looking male celebrities everyone obsesses over (Timothée Chalamet and Dane DeHaan I’m looking at you) would make those suits on the second row look fine af, but it’s mostly the womenswear that I’m here for and on this occasion it wasn’t great. A couple of the coats are nice and that’s about it. Like I really had to act as if the tassels weren’t there on a lot of the clothes and go from there because I really don’t like them in this context and if I was to veto looks purely on one of the garments having tassels, there’d be nothing to show or reference when giving my opinion on the show. They were EVERYWHERE. In a summer collection, done right, they can be a nice detail but here they just feel unnecessary and if I’m being honest, are quite ugly.

Thank god for Brock taking the sour Bottega Veneta tassel taste out of my mouth. Never a let down. Literally, everything they put out sends me into a daze of imagining I’m in some romantic drama wearing one of the pieces, in a man’s idea of “no makeup”, running round in a field looking forlorn and windswept because my ghostly lover has-

Okay, you get the picture. I’ve never read Wuthering Heights, but it goes something like that, right? If not, lets just say envisioning myself in any of these catapults me straight into some period drama where I’m born into wealth and sit by my mansion window looking sad all the time and writing poetry and lusting over some stuffy upper-class man I can’t have and who is probably played by Colin Firth because I’m pretty sure that’s what happens in most of them (about to enrage my future English lit undergraduate sister with that line).

Nobody does modest, muted sexy to such a masterful degree. I mean, when Maison Marigela did face veils I was just mildly afraid, but here they’re subtle enough that they’re quite beautiful and almost other-worldly, acting as some kind of boundary between this world and the past that Brock aims to recapture through its designs-the red lip popping out from underneath is a perfect touch too. I don’t like it AS much as the summer collection but I would say that’s solely on the basis of the more autumn/winter appropriate colour scheme and the heavier fits, which is just a personal preference. I mean, I’m usually not a fan of empire waistlines at all and Brock even manages to make that work.

Burberry this season was a real mixed bag, mostly due to the styling. There are some really gorgeous, London back alley vintage shop looking pieces, especially the 70s style coats, reminiscent of outerwear a slimy record exec would've worn back in the day repurposed by someone like Alexa Chung or Zoe Kravitz or whichever effortlessly cool woman it is we all want to be-also the private boy’s school rugby gear looking shit is classic Burberry and I’m a fan of that, even though it’s not the most inventive or exciting. I just don’t get why there had to be SO much ill-fitting plaid over ill-fitting plaid. Again, like with Bottega Veneta, I thought the menswear was a lot stronger; whilst I wasn’t really wowed by anything, it seemed a lot less forced, whereas a few of the womenswear looks gave me the vibe of a design team desperately grasping onto some ill-conceived ideas of street style and relevancy.

The design team at Carolina Herrera for example, know their niche. They never try to be something they’re not, always sublimely preppy and pretty and predictable-when it comes to target market, the bag is reliably secured. Laid- back princess dresses never get old for those constantly “summering” in one expensive coastal town or another, for the rich American moms attending charity galas and the Spencer Hastings and Blair Waldorfs of the world; women with glossy hair and fresh faces who act as if they woke up looking like that polished but are actually anal as hell and take 2 hours to get ready and would NEVER, I repeat NEVER, shit in a public toilet.

Yes, I managed to worm toilet habits into a review of a Carolina Herrera collection. I’m sorry. Enough with the pearl clutching.

Next is Celine:

I mean, when there are THIS many looks, it’s hard not to find something you like, and though VERY predictable and verging on lazy when you’re putting out the same shit every collection, Celine’s aesthetic is so similar to my own ideal style, it’s hard to be mad at it. That being said, a lot of the pieces, as per usual, came across as cheap YSL knock offs; the overall outfits are cute, but the more you look at the details-it particularly pained me to include a metal bow belt and an ill-fitting velvet skater skirt but I liked the rest of the outfits-the worse it gets. Please, PLEASE someone drive it home to Hedi Slimane, I’m begging you: QUALITY NOT QUANTITY. I get what he’s going for, 70s hipster Jane Birkin is a vision I can very much get behind, but not when it seems to be so rushed.

With the men’s looks, you can get away with it a lot more; when so much of menswear is so plain and unchanging, the slightest hint of Mick Jagger is enough to make a outfit edgy. But even then, I still feel like we’re seeing a load of variations of the same outfit. There are always some pieces that catch my eye, this time round the capes and the velvet blazers, and I would wear most of these things, sure, however I don’t think the combinations SHOULD necessarily look like something I’d personally put together; a runway collection is supposed to be aspirational and cutting edge, not pedestrian (entirely intentional self-drag, lol). Also, side note, the lack of diversity really bothered me. 111 looks and not one of these models has a body type that is naturally achievable for most people. It’s 2020 for fuck’s sake. I’m tired.

SO, let’s liven things up a bit with the Central Saint Martins collection, a breath of fresh air in terms of diversity (though a few more plus-size models would be nice):

As a former University of London student, I hate to heap praise upon them. If you’ve studied in London as well, you’ll know CSM students are ANNOYING. I mean, I’m sure they’re lovely as individuals but you can’t fully understand the meaning of the word pretentious until you’ve seen a group of them at a Uniqlo Tate Late. That being said, they are very good at what they do and I’m so glad that Vogue Runway includes them; this is what Off-White thinks it is, and really it makes sense that a bunch of current fashion students are able to come together to present one of the most experimental and forward-thinking shows of this season.

And let’s talk about the RANGE. From catsuits worthy of comic book heroes to dresses Twiggy would’ve worn in a 1960s editorial, every subgenre of fashion has been fully delved into here. Whilst we’ve got the adrogyny of the suits and suspenders combo and kitschy gender-bending co-ords David Bowie would be proud of, at the other end of the scale we’ve also got models walking down the runway dressed like wood nymphs or some other kind of siren-like creatures. There’s looks that wouldn’t be out of place in a Gucci or Come Des Garcons collection but at that same time would be equally at home in a Berlin techno club.

Honestly, credit where credit’s due-it was a really interesting show and I wouldn’t expect anything less.

Chanel was quite literally the polar opposite of the CSM show.

Very blah.

It’s crazy because before you properly get INTO fashion, Chanel is like the epitome of style. And then you do, and you see the runway shows get lazier and lazier (with some exceptions) every year, and you realise that same prestige that had you aware of Chanel at the age of 7 or 8 is literally all that’s keeping the brand going at this point. I’m not saying the collection is flat out ugly, a lot of it’s cute, but you’re CHANEL for fuck’s sake. Yeah, I like the crucifixes but SCALLOPED HEMS!? No. I do NOT recall travelling back in time to witness Primark’s Spring 2013 collection on the runway and I am NOT having it.

It’s not at all surprising that a lot of the time newer brands Charlotte Knowles (above) tend to be more interesting than those more established-and yes that was a Chanel indirect if the transition wasn’t obvious.

With no room to rest on laurels or reputation, everything has to be bolder and smarter and more distinctive and most importantly, has to appeal to its target market with the fervour of an L.A sign spinner. I only found out about Charlotte Knowles because of a Vogue article citing her as Bella Hadid’s new favourite brand to wear, and once I saw the collection, it was clear why; daringly modern, slick, and edgy is both her street style (say what you want about her as a model but her outfit game is unbeaten) and Knowles’ USP to a T. If Dion Lee, Off-White, GCDS and Acne had an orgy, this would be the result, and that is a GOOD compliment.

Next, Chloe:

Not a huge amount to say, to be honest. Low-key, wearable, and cute. Like Emma Roberts’ Nancy Drew if she did an autumn exchange program at the Sorbonne and studied art history, libraries and coffee shops on the weekdays and galleries and protests at the weekend. On reflection, that definitely makes this collection sound more exciting than it is but there are some effortlessly beautiful pieces here. The 4th row in particular is full of stand outs-the vest with the watercolour faces on with the shirt underneath is perfection, and the burgundy suit with the saffron ruffled collar peeking out from underneath is adorable and not at all reminiscent of the Ronald McDonald inspired nightmare that any combination of red and yellow tones should theoretically be.

As for Christian Siriano, I see why people hate it, I really do. I understand that it seems kinda unfair to have it show the same week as Brock and Rodarte and Oscar de La Renta. We’re talking 2 very different kinds of quality here. BUT, at pure face value, his clothes are FUN, plus Coco Rocha will always have a special place in my heart as someone who lived on The Face and America’s Next Top Model and every show that could possibly give me an unhealthy body image ever.

Like are you telling me you wouldn’t wear these dresses to a party!? Live a little. They just need tailoring...which ideally would be done BEFORE the model’s walking down the runway in it but...you know...can’t have it all.

Christopher Kane is a show I always look forward to.

I would say his designs are the only thing that make geometry look fun but I’m going to expose myself and admit that would be a lie because I actually found geometry really fun. Trigonometry was my shit, lol.

He is a designer who perfectly demonstrates that juggling interseasonal consistency and taking risks can be done. There’s always something DIFFERENT about his collections, fresh and subtly experimental. There are occasionally a few misses, sure, but I’d rather that than for a brand to keep playing safe, plus he never goes too far in the opposite direction either; no going weird for the sake of weird. I don’t like it AS much as the summer collection but it’s mostly because of the more muted, autumn/winter appropriate colour palette.

Comme Des Garçons? Too weird?

Never.

Honestly when it comes to a CDG collection, I have to really shift my perspective to appreciate it. I’m not looking at fashion presentation, I’m looking at a moving piece of experimental art. I know, it’s a stretch. But you know you’ll never be bored by one of their shows. Not gonna lie, this specific collection crossed the line into plain ugly a couple of times for me. We had padding so extravagant it looked like several models were walking round with Ikea pillows stuck to their chest and headdresses reminiscent of the kids’ game Headbandz. In amongst that though, we did get some gorgeous veils like the ones seen above and the shoes and socks combo is actually quite wearable.

I’d say Dilara Findikoglu is the cut-off point after which things get a little too avant-garde for my personal taste, and it hovers over that cut-off point flawlessly; despite the other-worldly elements of her collections, they remain somewhat grounded by nods towards conventional fashion that allow the beauty, be it inner or outer, of the wearer to shine through. Comme Des Garcons garments undeniably have character but they tend to swallow up any trace of the individual underneath, whereas the character of Dilara Findikoglu garments seamlessly merges with the wearer and in turn elevates both to something transcendent and ethereal. If the Pussycat Dolls got transported into a rugged, post-apocalyptic future, they’d scrape together these outfits to perform in, I know it; the energy of the collection, with the body jewellery and the frayed cut outs and the chalk white faces, is very warrior princess, just as raw and intimidating as it is hot as fuck, and I want that energy in my life. Along with a Dilara belt, of course. I would wear her name like a badge of honour anytime she wants. Dilara, pls pls let me be part of your tribe. PLEASE.

Anyway, this is where I thought I’d cut things off, so as to end on a positive note. You know what that means: Dior is coming up. I feel bad knowing my first post was defending Maria Grazia and yet here I am now, looking at the bar down on the floor, but I mean, you never know; maybe girl is doing this on purpose and one day she’s gonna come out with a Gucci level quality show like a phoenix from the ashes.

If you got this far, THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR READING even if you’re just here for the pics. Part 2 will be covering some of my most anticipated shows from Elie Saab, Fendi and Etro to Gucci and Moschino, Miu Miu and Marc Jacobs, and everything in between. Yes, the shitty ones too.

I’m plowing through all the material as quick as I can so I hope to get the next post up really soon, and yes-you can count on the overwhelming sense of needing to be productive pushing me into fulfilling that statement.

Thanks again and I hope you’re well!

Lauren x

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maikatc · 4 years

Text

black sun tale | jackson

i want more jackson love so i shall share jackson love. also this is from the 3rd draft of bst too and most of it is still in the current canon, just a good amount of changes here or there (like the ending-)

Since the sun wanted to kill his skin like usual, Jackson stayed inside with his companion

Despite her constant rambling, he stared at his computer screen in focus. He checked left and right from every forum he travelled to, reading all of the comments and theories that left in each and every one.

“Do you think we should get Finn over? Since he’s basically the same as you and never bothers to listen. Well, actually he’s pretty good at multitasking so it’s mainly just you.”

There was a sour tone in her voice, which her minor complaints caused him to look at her directly rather than his screen. “Mirana, I can still hear everything you say while I read.”

She crossed her arms, “That’s impossible,” she scoffed.

“Have you ever seen some foreign movie with subtitles?”

Mirana looked at him deadpanned. “I was forced to, yes.”

Jackson sighed, he figured that socializing during the summer was probably a good thing. “Just call Finn over.”

“Okay! I’ll go on speaker.” Mirana grabbed her phone as Jackson comforted himself back to his laptop, muttering.

“Why am I even friends with you guys again?”

“Because childhood friends are bitches like that.”

“Right.” He cringed at his own lack of silence.

“I’m guessing Jackson’s being a prick again?”

“Yeah, pretty much.”

“That’s the reason you always invite Finn over here,” Jackson entered the conversation as Finn entered through the doorway.

Mirana crossed her arms. “I always tell you guys to go out but no,” she spited.

Jackson rolled his eyes, “You haven’t seen the news lately, haven’t you?”

Finn replied, “You mean the area deaths?”

“Mirana, do you really think anyone would go out with that situation at hand.” Jackson eyed her as she played with her red hair.

Mirana looked down, muttering words Jackson couldn’t hear. She looked back at both of them, “Well, we can always just go somewhere indoors. You guys just stay in your houses all the time.”

“I’m researching about the area deaths.”

“I’m trying to hack online friends for a prank.”

Jackson and Finn replied to her simultaneously.

The girl sighed and pointed at Jackson, “Okay that’s too depressing to spend days on,” she shifted her hand towards Finn, “And that just means you need more of a life.”

Finn chuckled, “They hacked me a few days ago, gotta get em back.”

Mirana shriveled downwards, “Y’all need more vitamin D, goddamnit.”

Jackson opened his computer again, “That’s why they made pills for it.”

“Don’t forget the flavored gummies.” Finn added, going on his phone in the process.

Mirana stared at them deadpanned. “… You guys suck.”

As Jackson’s focus drifted back to forums, a hand suddenly closed his laptop, causing him to jump. He saw Mirana take Finn’s phone as well.

“What the hell?” Finn his arms up as his phone was gone.

She swiftly grabbed both of their arms, her strength being able to pull them up. “I’m dragging you guys out. We’re going to the diabetes shop.”

Jackson’s eyes lowered at her. “Fucking hell.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll get you guys candy in return.”

Jackson pulled himself out of the girl’s grasp. “Let me at least get ready to go.” He looked at himself, still just in a white t-shirt and black boxers.

He walked to his drawer of clothing, taking off his shirt in the process.

“Don’t you ever think that’s too forward?” Finn commented.

Jackson opened a drawer full of shirts, “It’s not like I’m trying to get you guys to sleep with me. Well, anybody anyways.”

“Yes, we’ve already gotten over this: You don’t like people.” Mirana stood by his bedroom doorway as she spoke. All the while, Finn was on his phone he had gotten back from the girl. “Besides, out of anybody, Finn would be the one distracted by you right now.”

Finn turned away from his phone immediately. “Middle school means nothing.”

“And nothing came out of it, so now we’re just chill.” Jackson grabbed a grey t-shirt he’d gotten from concert Mirana brought him to around a year back. He put it on without much thought and then wore a red unbuttoned flannel over it.

As Mirana and Finn talked to each other, returning regrettable middle school memories, Jackson added a simple pair of jeans and a belt to complete his outfit. He tucked his shirt in as he walked towards the mirror. He fixed up his tuff of brown hair lying on top of his coffee-colored skin. Adding his grey newsie cap on his head, he turned towards the others.

“You definitely go on the internet too much.” Finn eyed his outfit.

Mirana laughed, “I still don’t get why you where that hat, I gave it to you as a joke.”

Jackson shrugged. “Well, I like it.”

“It makes you look like an old man.” Mira smiled.

“Let’s just go,” Jackson grinned at their common talk.

***

“I still hate the sun.” Jackson complained.

“Take off your flannel then,” Mira told him, rolling her eyes.

Finn said, “Hey Jackson, there’s this one video I’ve been meaning to show you too.”

“Finn, another video and I’ll take your phone again.” Mira remarked, causing Finn to place his mobile in his pocket yet again.

“Oh yeah, you heard of the Katzmann death, right?” Jackson asked Finn.

Finn nodded. “We’re screwed.”

“I still don’t get why you used the excuse of the area deaths when you still die indoors now.” Mira grumbled to herself.

“It’s more common outside though, the Katsmann kid was the first time a death was inside. And that happened like two days ago.” Finn spoke in defense.

“I still want to know why this is happening. It’s just getting weirder…” Jackson furrowed his eyebrows, his sight on the ground as he walked in the streets. His curiosity had peaked as always.

“Leave that to the government.” Mira’s hand made a brushing motion.

“It’s easier like that but people should try to figure it out so they’d know what to make best in the situation.”

“Yeah, yeah, but your ideas are too out of proportions.” Mira retorted.

“Don’t go into one of your journalism talks again please, Jackson.” Finn commented.

Jackson sighed and let go of the conversation.

The traffic was busy as always, creating the city noise he’s listened to for almost five years. Turning his newsie cap backwards, he observed the tall buildings engraved in his mind as his friends talked to each other about whatever gossip Mira had. Their snickers mixed with nostalgic sounds eased him slightly.

However, there were ideas peeking through his mind again, area deaths being the topic of course. The number of clues for the cause is nothing to discuss. There was no reason for many of them to just die so suddenly. Everybody would just fall from system failure. No way it couldn’t been a shooting, no injuries. How could a virus appear out of nowhere and kill others instantly without any other contact? How would the virus just disappear suddenly after mere seconds of so many dying? How could no one else around the area be affected if it were to spread so quickly? Why-

He bumped into somebody, someone shorter than him for sure. He looked down from his height to see a boy around his early teens down on the ground from lack of attention. Mira and Finn stopped with him.

The boy had white hair, likely dyed, covering his eye and strangely pale skin. He bore a simple, yet untucked, buttoned shirt and tight black jeans. His visible eye stared at him dully, though it shone a pretty blue.

He got himself up after muttering something under his mouth.

“Sorry, ‘you alright?” Jackson asked looking down at him. He was definitely short, maybe less than five feet compared to himself being over six.

The boy observed him again, and with a small curve on his lip, he said, “Yeah, but you better pay more attention.” He walked off without any other comment.

“You should probably pay more attention too,” Finn fussed.

They walked for about another minute until Mira noted, “Well this was a pretty short walk. Not much to complain about, right?”

“I’m still sweating like shit, Mira,” Jackson bickered, “Shut up.”

Mira ran to the store door, “There’s a thing called cold drinks, you know.”

Finn walked inside. “I’m just gonna have some sour candies and soda while I plan on what the hell to do with life after high school.”

Jackson sighed as he walked in himself. “Same though, I don’t want to think about the college applications in two years.”

“And I don’t want to think about that stuff since we just went through sophomore year and it’s summer, so be quiet.” Mirana entered, slamming the door.

The store was the same as always, an array of candies near the cashier and soda pop stacked upon each other in rows. Throughout the store held packs of what kids get nowadays: junk food. Though laid around were mediocre everyday items such as earbuds or chargers, which were simply begging to be bought with their cheap prices. Jackson and company mainly went however for the small table they held for customers who just wanted to relax. Though, behind the front counter was a man around their age, who they all knew well.

His name was Kasen, his parents were managers so it was the easiest job to get, from what Jackson heard. Whenever he’d visit the shop for a quick grab of snacks for a sleepover, he would chat with him whilst paying with the little cash he’d have at the moment.

His aloof attitude towards the job made the shop surprisingly more welcoming with his honest attitude. Which is its own downside since he makes the family more money from the teenage crowd, thus his parents force him to stay.

“Yo, Kasen,” Finn walked towards him immediately. “How’s today’s shift going for you?”

Kasen looked up from the article he was reading on his phone. “Boring as usual.” He wore his signature, busted nametag as well as a short-sleeved hoodie for the heat. All the while he placed iced coffee from the coffee shop down the street and a fan to keep him cool.

Jackson shrugged, “Well, at least you have company now.”

Mirana picked out three individual candies that each of them liked themselves and placed them all in front of Kasen as she grabbed her wallet. “I told you guys I’ll by candy for you,” she placed the exactly amount of money on the counter to pay, “So here you go.”

“I still have to scan it.”

Mira paused. “Oh yeah.” She handed the treats back to him.

Kasen quickly put his long-cut blonde bangs behind his ear and scanned all of them to hand them back to her. “Okay, now you guys can have it.” He took a sip of his iced-coffee again as he took the cash to put in the system.

“Wait!” Finn suddenly said. “What about the drinks?”

After a quick moment of silence, Kasen sighed as the computer printed out the receipt. “Just get your soda already and pay me again.”

“I still don’t get why you guys just have a table here…” Mirana sat back as she ate gummies.

Kasen leaned forward from his counter. “Well, it was my idea when I was younger, my parents bought it as a present so I wouldn’t be running around the store while they worked. Plus, I thought that people who wanted to stay shouldn’t be standing. Didn’t really noticed how weird it was until I got older.” He snickered pulling up his glasses.

Finn chugged some of his cold, orange pop and took a sighed as he swallowed. “Aren’t we the only people who actually sit here?”

Kasen shrugged, “Well, there are some who do, but they don’t bother talking to me. Mainly since they’re basic bitches, but they get annoying easily so I don’t really try at the same time.”

“Makes sense,” Jackson nodded, “You’re a good man, Kasen, a good man.”

“Yes,” Kasen chuckled, “A good man without an idea of what degree I even wanna get.” He took another sip of coffee.

“Isn’t that half the students though,” Mira questioned.

“I guess so. I mean, at least I’m pretty sure my parents will let me quit after graduating.”

Jackson indulged in his popping candy as the others talked. He already had a basic plan after graduating high school, though without older siblings like Finn had, he didn’t have anything to make reference of for himself.

“Damnit…” He muttered, taking a sip of his lemonade as the others laugh about some random new topic.

***

Jackson had returned to his cozy apartment, lying beside his dining table and lightly chuckling from the thoughtless jokes of the media.

Mira and Finn had left hours ago, all the while his mother had arrived back from the hospital, cooking up dinner. Her bleached hair puffed up into a mess like always as her small eyes carried bags underneath.

Jackson turned towards her directing, eying that she wobbled as she walked.

Jackson stood up, closing his laptop as he slipped next to her and place his hand on her shoulder. “You’ve worked two nights shifts and a day shift to top it off, I’ll make dinner.”

The woman blinked at him slowly, only to place the cutting knife she held for vegetables and sighed “Fine.”

She stumbled towards the table and slumped down on a chair.

Jackson nodded to himself as she already fell to a slumber, and went on to cut the rest of the veggies to use for the last step.

The rice noodles were already being boiled and the chicken breast was already cut. All Jackson had to wait for was the rice noodles to be ready.

His mother blinked her eyes open as Jackson stirred all of the ingredients together in a wok.

Jackson stirred repetitively for some time until the clattering of plates struck his ears. He turned to see his mother grabbing plates without precaution. Though, he shrugged and laid his eyes down upon the food. “The pancit is ready.” He said as he began serving food to the plate that had been passed to him.

“You’re starting to make better food than me, it took seventeen years.” Her mouth slurred as she spoke as Jackson passed the plate he held to her.

“I’ve been good, besides you passed out immediately once I offered help,” Jackson scoffed.

After gathering their food and utensils, the two sat on the dining table together.

“So how did your day go?”

The light shined above them dimly, and his mother’s voice was weaker than normal.

“Mira dragged me and Finn to the shop. She paid for treats though so I didn’t have to use any money.”

The woman sighed. “Well that’s good. But I’ll pass you some more money by the end of the month.”

Jackson dragged his food around silently. “You know that you don’t have to save for college money now…”

His mother looked down on her plate as she chewed up her meal slowly. As she swallowed, she replied, “I’m just trying to being precautious. My family budget got screwed over for my education around your age.”

“But you still managed.”

“But, I had to work my ass off while you were just a baby.”

Jackson scoffed, “I know, I know. But it isn’t like I’ll be in that situation.”

She sighed, placing her spoon down gently, “Look, I’ve been working enough extra shifts for the hospital to offer me a vacation week. Will that make you a bit happier?”

Jackson took a spoonful of his meal. “Yeah, just rest for the week though. I’ll take care of the house.”

“Thank you, Jackson.”

They continued to eat the meal until Jackson picked up both of the empty plates to wash. His mother meanwhile, sat at the table to have some herbal tea and bread. An array of clean dishes on the other side were waiting to be put back in place, however Jackson’s desire to was barely existent as he washed more things.

“So, Mom, have there ever been survivors of area deaths that were in the hospital?”

“No, even the news says that no one in those places survived, you’d know that better than me.” Jackson could easily tell with her tone that she was confused.

He replied, “Yeah, but the news gets information wrong sometimes, so it’s always good to gain your own evidence.”

His mother took a sip of her tea. “That’s true. I’m guessing you’re making your own little conspiracy theories again?”

Jackson rolled his eyes with a grin. “No, this situation’s too vague to have a real solution here.” He said while placing a dish to the clean side of the sink.

“Are you going to keep trying to look for clues?”

Jackson groaned, “With how weird this all is, and the situation just getting stranger, I’m not even sure if anyone is gonna get a solid theory to this.”

His mother hummed thoughtlessly, “Well, even the absurd theories end up being true sometimes, so what do you got?” She took a bite of her bread in the process.

Jackson finished up the last dish and turned off the sink. He turned towards his mother with his hands holding the counter behind him. “The closest shot that I have is some artificial virus.”

She eyed him in a tired surprise while saying with bread in her mouth, “And what makes you say that?”

Jackson took a seat across from the woman, stretching his arms while looking at her straight. “Well, if you look at how the area-deaths go. They only happen in a specific location at the moment, and it kills everyone almost immediately. So, what if someone or some people had developed a virus they could activate and spread however they’d like. But at the same time if this were in a, most likely, terrorist perspective, it wouldn’t make sense to just attack specific people out of convenience when they can make mass destruction so easily with that type of destruction. Even more nonsensical that they would guess use this technology on singular people such as the children who’re kept and-… yeah.” He stopped himself from rambling too much.

“Hm, makes sense that this would be tricky. But maybe you should try and see other perspectives on who may have done this if there was someone in action.” His mother stirred her tea as she spoke, spreading the scent of plants and herbs across the room to Jackson’s dismay.

Jackson shrugged. “It’s hard to think of any. This tech would be impossible to create without tons of money or support.”

“With the world nowadays, anything can happen really.” She took another sip of her tea, tipping her head downwards only to get herself back up quickly.

Similar to past nights, Jackson got up to take away her tea and bread. “You’re going to work again tomorrow, right? Go to sleep.”

She blinked until she replied, “Okay, okay. But you’re drinking the rest of that tea for me.”

“That’s fine with me, mom.”

She got up with him as he walked with her to her bedroom.

“Oh yeah,” his mother said whilst slumping herself through the short hallway, “did you have fun with Mira and Finn?”

“Yeah, we talked with Kasen at the shop too, but I was still busy thinking so I spaced out for most of it.”

She softly chuckled, “Of course you did.”

They arrived at her room, all a mess with dirty clothing and mail, and she wobbled her way to fall on her bed. “Night, Jackson,” she said dozily.

“Night, Mom,” he replied as he closed the door with a soft creak.

Jackson walked back to the living room to go back to his laptop. All the while he was in the regular thoughts of a 34-year-old woman working herself exhaustingly for her almost already-independent child.

***

Mirana sat quietly on the floor with her sketchbook while Jackson took notes on his bed for summer homework. As Jackson bored himself with science facts, he noticed Mirana had observed him with her pencil at hand.

He listened to her sketching on her paper as comfort, the pencil tip scratching ever so slightly against the sheets.

“So, what are you drawing now?”

Mirana placed the pencil eraser on her lip, focusing on his position yet again. “Trying to make a sketch of you, but this angle is tricky of course.”

“Why don’t you just move somewhere else to get an easier angle?” Jackson raised his brow, though her answer would most likely be predictable.

She shrugged, “The harder the angle, the more impressive it is to pull it off.”

Jackson typed up a quick fact that he’d forget later. “I still don’t get how people can draw.”

“Well, at least you can take pictures,” Mirana scoffed.

Jackson rolled his eyes. “You just don’t know how to take pictures of people.”

“Adding a filter like you do doesn’t work on everything.” Mirana whined quietly as Jackson turned to his notes again.

They continued doing their own work. And whilst Mirana seemed to have fun in her focus, Jackson began to grow a headache as per usual.

“Hey Mira, are you almost done with your sketch?” He asked.

“Oh, I actually just did. You still have those colored pencils I gave you, right?”

Jackson replied, “You told me to keep them in case you drew here so I left them to die in my closet. Go look there. I’m gonna get some pills.”

Mirana put her sketchbook and pencil, beginning to stand in the process. “’Kay, thanks”

Jackson pushed his laptop aside and got up from his bed. Muttering to himself about not sleep depriving himself before working.

He quickly walked to the living room cabinets, finding headache pills quickly from the last time he left it there. He grabbed the cup of water he’d abandoned from morning breakfast and took the pills with it, having a good chug of the rest of the cup for safe measures. Though as he drank the rest of the cup, thoughts raised through his head.

The quicker I get this work done, the more time I have to relax and… maybe get some money from a job. I’ll look after. It’s starting to get dark though-.

His surroundings turned grey and silent as he felt a brush on his back in a flash. He choked on his water from flinching, though everything went back to normal the second he coughed it out.

Jackson gasped for air as he stumbled his hands towards the counter edges. He slowly breathed out, “What the hell…” as he stilled to calm down.

“Jackson, you okay?” He turned around to see Mirana by the end of the hallway.

Jackson let go of the counter and answered her. “I just choked on my water a little bit,” he sighed.

The woman crossed her arms and lowered her eyes. “I could hear from the other room. Your walls were thin enough.”

“Of course,” Jackson groaned as he straightened up his t-shirt.

“Have some more water. The pills won’t support your choking bit right there.”

“Sure, sure,” Jackson grumbled as his poured more water from the pitcher.

“So,” Mirana said as Jackson started drinking again, “what made you so startled anyways to that point.”

“It was an accident.”

“Yes, but choking that much by an accident isn’t really that believable.”

Jackson took another gulp of his water. “It was just random chills. I’ll look it up later or something.”

Mirana stayed quiet until she sighed, “Okay then, I’m just gonna go back to coloring.”

She walked back to where she disappeared in Jackson’s eyes. As he turned to look back at the window set on the living room wall.

The streets were just as lively as ever. Kasen was probably taking a nap during his breakshift of the day, while Finn procrastinated to even read his english books in the first place most likely. Despite his rural beginnings, everything that brought out curiosity and naivety to him had faded into the mundane.

His mind continued racing until he finished his drink, swifting the glass towards the sink to clean later and going back to his room.

Though, Jackson opened the door to find his room floor covered in multiple dull colored pencils. He looked ahead to already see a blur of colors in Mirana’s sketchbook.

Carefully, Jackson dawdled to the other side of the room. “You don’t have to throw all the shitty pencils across the room,” he retorted.

Mirana scoffed, “They aren’t shitty. They just aren’t needed for the sketch.”

Jackson rolled his eyes from her ignorance as he sat next to her, getting a better sight of the sketch.

She managed to catch his appearance well, like usual. His light tan-skin was replicated using a simple mix of pencil shades. His eyes squinted smaller than they already were as he focused, which was a usual habit in his defense. Though Jackson noticed his hair was a brown mess, and he subconsciously fixed his hair with his hand as his eyes analyzed the piece some more.

“Goddamnit Mira, it’s good.”

“Thanks, I mainly just colored you but I think I’m gonna move on to an outfit sketch.” She spoke as she turned to the next page, catching some stuck pages out from seemed to be dirt.

“What kind of outfit are you thinking of?”

“Just a thin dress, for when I go out swimming, you know?” She started sketching out lines of the model’s head.

Jackson’s mind swirled about what type of design it’d be, though another question came to mind.

“With how many outfits you made, did you ever consider being a designer or something?”

Mirana scrunched up, tapping her pencil slowly as she slightly hummed. “I’m not really sure yet. I like doing art in general, outfits are kinda just another hobby but I don’t know shit about actual fabric stuff.”

Jackson shrugged as she kept sketching slowly. “Yeah, but you can always learn, that’s what half the internet was made for.”

Mirana chuckled. “Yeah, but I prefer using the other half,” she clicked.

Jackson scrunched his eyes. “If you’re implying what I think you’re implying, get out.”

She snickered as he groaned back onto his own workspace.

“So, Jackson, what are you gonna do when I’m gone for the next two weeks?”

Jackson opened an online textbook, “Oh- Wait, shouldn’t you be packing right now?”

Mirana said, “I already did all of that last night. It was pretty easy.”

“You just stuffed everything you had other than your sketchbook and materials into your luggage without a thought, didn’t you?”

She grinned. “Pretty much.”

Jackson shook his head, “Your car trip’s gonna be around 2 days long…”

“Yeah, but out of anything, all I really need for survival is my sketchbook. Same goes for my music but I always have that so no need to worry.”

Jackson sighed, “Don’t come complaining to me when you don’t know where your swim-suit is.”

Mirana looked up from her sketchbook, “What? I got too focused on something.”

Of course, he thought. His screen became his sight again as he said, “Just don’t die in Massachusetts.”

“You’d probably like it more than me really, colder than here in New York City.”

Jackson smiled. “Trust me, I don’t like anything considering the weather.”

***

“It’s been two weeks. More kids died in their apartments. News is saying that people are starting to move. And at the same time, we still have no idea why this is happening in the first place.”

Finn commented, “There haven’t been anything else like this outside of NYC, so it could be worse.”

Jackson snapped back, “But what if it does get worse?” He slammed down his laptop from the kitchen table, walking off to refill his glass of water from minutes prior.

“Jackson?”

He chugged his cup full down with a vitamin D pill quickly, coughing and wiping his mouth with a sigh as he finished. “What,” he gasped.

“You’re getting stressed again. Calm down.”

Jackson huffed. “I don’t understand what’s going on anymore. The press would’ve released something weeks ago explaining, but all I get is shitty blogposts.”

He sat at his table again, arms over his head and kicking his long legs back and forth from the stool. “If we keep this up, we’re all gonna die soon enough.”

Finn stood silently, then sat on another stool on the side. He clapped his hands together while taking a breath. “Okay. Jackson, we aren’t gonna die. Out of anything if we see people die, just turn for it until you’re out of the area completely. Maybe try not to breathe, I don’t know.”

“But we still don’t know the main cause, we’re fucked.”

“Jackson, you have to calm down,” he patted Jackson’s back.

Jackson said blankly, “What’ll happen if my mom gets involved?”

“Jackson!” Hands stuck his arms tightly, turning him to face Finn again, who was stricken with concern in his eyes. “You need to stop worrying about this stuff. You should know out of everybody that it’s not good for you.”

Jackson blinked, then replied slowly, “If we stop doing anything, we’ll get nowhere. If we don’t know anything, we’ll get nowhere… We need this.”

Finn sighed, letting him go steadily. He glared at him softly, “Just don’t stress yourself out like that anymore.”

“Don’t worry. I think I’m fine now, I’ll just take some relax pills.” Jackson stood and turned to the cabinet of pills, grabbing a bottle of valerian root pills. He refilled his cup again to take it in.

He finished the cup silently as Finn attempting to make conversation after their talk.

“Huh, that’s a first.”

Finn cocked a brow. “What?”

Jackson said, “I’ve been having these weird chills lately at random, and over half the time it was when I was drinking water. And for the first time in two weeks,” he raised his cup, “I was able to drink an entire cup without getting any.”

“Wait,” Finn asked, “Is that why you’ve been drinking tons of water and choking?”

Jackson nodded, “Yeah, didn’t really like it but I wanted to see how long it’d last. Besides I stay inside so much that I might as well get a lot of hygiene to compensate.”

“Understandable.” Finn went back to his phone. “So, you said that you were hanging out with Mira tomorrow when she comes back, right?”

“Yeah, down at the Amersford park at 2:30.”

“Do you think I can join a bit after? I’ll be like an hour late since I’m gonna hang out with some of the basketball guys.”

Jackson shrugged, “Yeah sure, she’s pretty much just hanging out with us as a way of getting out of unpacking for a bit so the more the merrier.”

Finn chuckled, “Her room’s gonna be a disaster either way so it’s fine.”

“I’ll text her later. But for right now, you’ll go do my math work for me.”

***

Jackson’s phone buzzed while he looked at pop culture news. He picked it up to see Mirana’s name plastered on the phone.

He clicked the green button and answered, “Are you almost here? It’s almost two.”

“We got here earlier than expected, so do you think you can come over now?”

Jackson looked at himself, dressed in a random t-shirt and a pair of boxers yet again. “I can, but I need some time to get ready first.”

“You’re in your boxers again, aren’t you?”

“Yep.”

“Okay I’m just gonna wait with YouTube. See ya soon.”

She hung up right afterwards.

Jackson groaned from his own lack of sleep and got up regretfully. After taking deep breath, he dashed to his drawer and quickly dressed himself. He immediately brushed his teeth in the bathroom, washed up his face, and fixed up his hair. He snatched his newsie-cap and phone to be completely ready to go in the record-time speed of five minutes.

He quietly said goodbye to his resting mother before going off.

Jackson called her again as he started walking to the park.

“Are you out of your house yet?”

“Yeah, I’m on my way.”

“Good, you’re being productive.”

“Unlike you.”

“Shut up”

“Okay, I’ll see you then.”

“Oh, bye then.”

Jackson hung up the phone as he started to take his ten-minute walk of the week.

***

Just a block away from Amersfort park, and Jackson only struck silence in his ears. He cocked his head to say the least once he noticed.

He walked to the entrance steadily. He found a scent wasn’t of the city’s smoke, which was utmost peculiar causing him to walk quicker.

A thick atmosphere comforted around him as he got closer, and his hand suddenly began to burn but he ignored it during the flashes of monochrome that appeared in his sights, with chills going down his spine continuously.

He got to the entrance, and slowly turned to see what exactly was going on.

His eyes widened to the point where it hurt. His blood ran colder than it had ever been before as his heartbeat sped up faster and faster. His eyes slowly began having forming thick, wet tears that burned against his cold figure.

He couldn’t stop staring at all of messy, bloody bodies that laid before him. The eyes of pain they’d left only made sense with the giant puncture on their bodies.

And what laid across the entrance of the park was dyed-red hair that he could always remember.

Mirana ended up dead in New York City.

Though, as Jackson stood in shock, his eyes caught a black figure standing. It was ginormous, skin wrinkled up to its spine and a black aura surrounding them as well. However, its paws held thick claws that were stained red.

This isn’t real.

The monster turned and saw Jackson.

This isn’t real.

It took a single step towards him.

He could barely think.

He could barely tell reality anymore

However, one single thought formed completely.

Run.

#old writing #writeblr #writblr #writers on tumblr #My writing #bst jackson #think of it as sort of a side story #these guys are actually helpful

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archinamorata-blog · 5 years

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Skinny Privilege and Intersectionality

TW: Dysphoria, Eating Disorders

Scale of Impact To the phrase, “skinny-shaming is exactly the same as fat-shaming”, I say, “not quite”. To be frank, I’m not going to tell people how to feel. Certainly, on an individual basis, skinny-shaming can be incredibly damaging and lead to dysphoria. However, the difference between the two prejudices is found in scale and systematic reinforcement. Fat-shaming has it, skinny-shaming doesn’t. Society at large still says that thinner is better and thinner is happier. It can trap the “haves” into feeling underwhelmed and the “have-nots” into an inferiority complex (not always -it can be rejected -but frequently enough). The prevalence of size-related eating disorders says enough, all whilst pro-anamia blogs remain rife.

“But curves are in!”

In this time of influencer culture, the women on social media who seem to profit the most from having curves are still quite slim. No, it’s no longer the mainstream cool to be completely flat and “nineties skinny”, but that older beauty standard has not gone, it has been moulded. Science must be passed down by those with power and so the definition of “health” is controllable. This new healthy image is now exclusive to being smaller as well as with curves. It mixes the familiar with the new and so this change has been easier for people to adjust to and aspire towards. I can’t help but observe that the dawn of this new standard occurred at the same time the authenticity of black culture (that has always celebrated larger, curved bodies) became more aggressively appropriated - but more on that later. The easiest way to spot skinny privilege is to look at where the money is. Haute couture models: all still one body type. The Plus Size movement: doing wonders socially (the impact of role models like Ashley Graham, Lizzo, Oyama Botha etc.), but still far less lucrative. I find that their runway shows are still seen as “for the greater good” politics and this undermines the fact that they are naturally very beautiful. Upon sight, the stage design is generally *snob voice* not as extremely elegant because of the smaller budget. If elite models were to personally, outwardly, and more widely support plus size campaigns and individuals, it’s capital would spike, its image would improve, plus size desirability would become more mainstream and less fetishised, elite runways may eventually become more mixed, and skinny rule would dwindle. As thin women, that is their power and that is their privilege.

Chat Shit, Get Surgery

Skinniness is a widespread mentality that, without self-education, we are all complicit in. Its main driving force is its profitability for those already possessing power. Being a healthy-minded skinny woman protects a person from feeling personally targeted by falsely marketed health teas, diets that promise the ‘beach body’ result (I think you can guess what I think about the term). These products are a hint towards the falsehood of neoliberal happiness and corporations benefit from this standard having been so deeply entrenched in people’s minds.

A key example of this involves the recent LulaRoe pyramid scheme lawsuits. LulaRoe is a business model that allows American suburban women to provide their own income by selling clothes online as ‘consultants’. Consultants at the top of the scheme (called ‘Mentors’) are earning up to $30,000 per month. The company primarily earns money, not by customer sales, but by hiring more and more recruits who need to buy $5000-$9000 clothes packages just to start selling. To be honest, the clothes are average at best. So what entices these new recruits? Image. The high earners use their salary to live a lavish lifestyle and post on social media. One of the biggest attractions comes from a group chat called the Tijuana Skinnies. Members are flown out to Mexico to undergo gastric band surgery and come back looking ‘slim and beautiful’. One Mentor tried out a temporary gastric band in America, almost died, and was still encouraged to go through with the real thing in Tijuana. It’s believed that the company directors push this because the surgery they fly the women to gives them commissions for referrals. This is a multi-billion dollar company that profits most from its image. And it’s a skinny one. Obviously, on the flip side a person can just reject fat-shaming and not pay any mind to it. But with messages everywhere that tell you not to, it is not as easy.

“The obesity epidemic shouldn’t be supported and you’re just letting people give themselves excuses.”

I find it quite funny, Susan, how the health and welfare of larger people seems to only be cared about when arguing against the idea that they should even have body confidence in the first place. Comme, do you empathise or not? Body health can’t exist without mental health. To say otherwise is to advocate for dissociation and correct me if otherwise, but that doesn’t sound very caring. The above argument works on the assumption that all those who could possibly be targets of subjective fat-shaming (i.e. everyone who is not obviously skinny) are obese. This is false equivalence as the number of people in each group is vastly different. It reinforces the idea that slim is the only moral way to exist and that all weight gain is unhealthy. This mentality is what stops people from appreciating themselves and intensifies self-rejection. As a result, a person is less likely to take responsibility and act towards improving their health if they don’t know or even want what’s best for their body in the first place. Working hard and not allowing any feelings of self-worth in the process just sounds like burnout to me - but I’m no expert on this type of experience so any and all opinions are welcome.

Intersectionality

The intersectional aspect of skinny privilege is clearer when you consider how particular groups are viewed, including plus size men, women of colour, disabled people and so forth. The topic I’m most qualified to speak on concerns women of colour.

The ‘angry black girl’ narrative falls more heavily on darker-skinned (the treatment of Michelle Obama, Joanna from The Apprentice, Alexandra Burke, Leslie Simpson, it goes on) and plus size women. Within colourism, privilege exists because Eurocentrism is idealised. White femininity is the set of traditional standards set within that demographic and being skinny is one of them. So, indirectly (heavy emphasis on that one), being skinny may help a person be subconsciously seen as more ‘Eurocentric’ and have an increased likelihood of being heard.

“Privilege is an absence.” - Reni Eddo-Lodge, Why I’m No Longer Talking to White People About Race.

One of the most lucrative exports of the black community is its music. Here, female skinny privilege is harder to spot. If we’re talking uber-popular music, I would say the most successful women in the game are currently Beyoncé, Rihanna, Cardi B and Nicki Minaj.* Indeed, none are that skinny. However, when women are larger, they are made to reach higher standards in order to get the same level of respect as skinny women. I’ve observed that only hourglass/pear plus size figures are universally accepted. You must have a conventionally pretty face. Don’t be loud if you’re not light-skinned, a trait all four of these artists have. As mentioned, this absence of dark skin (and often coupled with straighter hair/wigs) puts them closer to oh so pleasant, placid, harmless Eurocentricity. They can be firm, self-assured, loud and carelessly sensual whilst getting less criticism than dark-skinned women. They have bodies that conform to the standards of both colourism within the black community and Reni Eddo-Lodge’s definition of Whiteness. They are an intersection of preferences within the two mentalities and profit from it. This privilege allows their black identity to remain authentic and something different that non-black people will speculate on, listen to, and enjoy. $$$. Even so, when Nicki Minaj and Cardi B praise fuller figures, it’s often in comparison to skinny women (I remember the amusingly whiny uproar after Nicki’s “Fuck the skinny bitches” line in Anaconda). Even in this community, it’s as if plus size beauty cannot exist alone. It’s often within the context of skinniness and rarely receives full attention outside of being fetishised. Skinny is seen as the obviously beautiful standard that everything else revolves around.

“What can be done?”

I’ll keep it short:

Continue to increase representation in advertisements, television and especially runways.

Reduce demand for unhealthy weight loss products through educating yourself and others and not buying them.

Vocally support plus size movement individuals and encourage equally paid photo shoot and runway contracts. This includes everyone, but especially celebrities with large platforms.

Charity starts at home, so analyse your own body artistically. Temporarily ignore beauty standards whilst doing this and make your own judgements on its different organic shapes. If you can like unconventional shapes in art, why not something as complex as yourself?

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hyunnielix · 6 years

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Enemies II

Part Two For Enemies

Your training regime has been rigorous, doubling your lessons with not only your coach but with Luke as well, what happens when you let the sexual tension between the two of you get the better of you?

Requested: Yes, for the anon that asked if I was doing a part 2

Pairing: Luke x Y/N

Warnings: Angst, Fluff, Coach!Luke, Flirting, Boxing!AU

Word Count: 1.5k

“So it’s all a reputation thing, this whole demeanour,” You scoffed, unfolding your arms and gesturing with your hands towards his lanky body.

You planted your feet securely on the maroon foam flooring of the ring, preparing yourself for the next round of torture whilst protecting your face.

“Yes, and you want to know why? because it sells.” He lectured you while his guard was down, tilting his head to the side obviously unimpressed with your obliviousness.

“Do you have any evidence of that or did it come straight from Calum’s mouth?” You retorted, laughing to yourself before bouncing onto the toes of your feet ready for the oncoming jabs as he straightened his arms, holding the boxing pads steadier.

“Did you listen to a word I said before?” The blonde exclaimed, desperation surfacing in his baby blue eyes that usually twinkled with cheekiness.

Snapping out of the trance you rolled your eyes at him, frustrating the poor boy even more with your uncooperativeness during the current lesson.

“It just sounds like something he’d say.” You defended yourself, smirking at the annoyance on his face while you threw a punch unexpectedly to the white spot marked on the pad.

“You seem to be good at that,” He stated coolly, swiping his right hand over your head as you ducked down avoiding the hit.

“Good at what?” You asked, pausing at his comment slightly before aiming for his face out of pure spite.

“That,” He explained. “You use that aspect to throw your opponent’s off,” He continued trying to explain what you were doing right.

“You just need to improve a bit more I’ll show you, hang on.” He spoke ripping the laces off the velcro pad straps while stepping towards you.

Your face contorted with even more bewilderment at his statement, you were still adjusting to being told what to do and how to improve without giving a smartass remark back. Some would say your ego was a problem.

“Oh come on, it’s not like you’ve never been touched by a guy before,” He chuckled while invading your personal space, his breath fanning across your face as he gazed down at you testing your patience with him.

“I just don’t think it’s very necessary-,” You let out a small squeak as his ice cold fingers brushed against your midriff moving your waist to face his body whilst he took a hold of your left fist bringing it up to his face.

“For example, this would be predictable,” He motioned your hand back and forth stopping it before just it hit his face explaining the movements nodding religiously as you intently watched.

“However, this-,” He instructed smartly moving his left leg behind yours while throwing a right jab at your face took you off guard.

Leaning backwards so his fist wouldn’t collide with your face your small frame fell backward on the rings plush floor tripping over his leg as he sneakily planned.

“Is unpredictable, you must always use this against your enemies especially if your weight isn’t enough to hold against them.” He scolded, smiling down at your exhausted body sprawled across the floor, your resting bitch face explained your current mood towards the giraffe-like boy as he held his hand out for you to take.

After hauling you up, he began circling around your body examining your fighting stance.

“You have to use your speed and power to bring them down,” He reminded you, quickly sliding his leg underneath yours, however, you stepped forward out of the trap and spun on your heel facing him.

Without hesitation, you grasped onto his broad shoulders while kneeing him in the stomach unfortunately to your disadvantage he caught your leg ultimately unbalancing you until you fell to the floor yet again.

“Then you attack, hesitating and adapting to your opponent’s fighting techniques is what you don’t want to do,” He chuckled while chewing on his jet black lip ring, it was almost like he was mocking you.

“You must observe their fighting technique not adapt to it, I got it.” You replied, getting up off the floor yourself this time and dusting the remnants off your neon pink and black sports bra.

You weren’t going to lie, the theory was your strong suit the actual fighting aspect, however, you still needed improvement on which you wouldn’t verbally confess even if it killed you.

“Let's start sparring then,” He commented, fixing on his used white gloves the ear-piercing noise of the adjusting velcro made your head reel, the headache you had gained during the training didn’t help.

“Wait, that wasn’t it?” You exclaimed letting out a loud moan hunching your back over dramatically which made a laugh erupt from Luke, his dimples shown prominently in his left cheek. Your suffering was definitely his enjoyment.

“We’ve been at this for two hours I need a break,” You decided, clambering underneath the maroon ropes and jumping off the edge of the arena onto the grey carpeted floor.

“Top athletes are constantly working hard and in the end, it delivers results,” He stated matter-of-factly following closely behind you as you made your way towards the paint-chipped bench that was placed outside of the locker room.

“You’re a bit hard on your friends now aren't you?” You panted, lowering your exhausted body onto the bench as you side-eyed the boy.

“You classify yourself as one of my friends? what happened to ever being enemies,” He wickedly smirked whilst his brows furrowed, you tried to prevent your lips from upturning into a small smile.

“Or am I just breaking down your tough girl image.” He sarcastically spoke, shrugging his unnaturally broad shoulders whilst awaiting a reply.

You brushed your palms against the fabric of your charcoal Adidas tights, wiping the sweat off them while conjuring a reply to the confronting statement.

“I guessed someone had to take the role of it since you don't have any,” You reciprocated, removing your gaze from the unbelievable attractive boy and focusing it on the grey carpet in front of you.

“Well, contrary to popular belief I do have friends,” He scoffed, you had obviously hit a nerve that would prove to be a weakness and leverage was important.

“Michael doesn’t like this y’know,” You half-heartedly laughed trying to change the subject, you eventually caught your breath as you leant your head back on the wall the small talk always relaxed you.

“Michaels always hated me.” Luke smiled bitter-sweetly, copying your movements, you could feel his gaze burning into the side of your face.

“It’s no surprise why,” You murmured, rolling your eyes irritatedly hoping Luke would get the message about how you currently viewed the topic.

“Man, do you ever give me a break?” He giggled, voice cracking while revealing his adorable dimple yet again.

You could tell he was trying to make the conversation more lighthearted but you were stubborn, constantly pushing your point across.

“It’s hard to trust someone when their whole persona is a lie,” You commented, crossing one leg over the other whilst taking off the blood red boxing gloves you donned throughout the lesson.

“You’re kind of being a hypocrite, telling me I shouldn’t have one and then you doing the exact same thing,” He retaliated, crossing his muscular arms over his chest and huffing blowing his messy blonde hair out of his face.

“I do it so I don’t get hurt, unlike you who does it for the money,” You let your mouth run yet again, only stating the cold hard truth.

He exhaled sharply, removing his eyes from you before replying equally as cold.

“Come on we’re done here.” He hummed, visibly trying to prevent the annoyance on his face as he stood up abruptly, passing you.

Trailing behind the six foot four boy you entered the dark and damp locker rooms that weirdly resembled the smell of wet dog.

“How much will that be?” You asked, splitting off into the side of the room where your locker was placed cursing in the process as you nearly slipped on the dirty puddles of water on the tiled floor.

“It’s on the house, I’m trying to prove something,” He replied, his Aussie twang making you scoff and roll your eyes while placing your hand on the metal hatch of your named locker.

You twisted the small black lock that hung off it listening intently to the constant clicking.

“You need to get a better coach, you have potential,” He rambled on, not listening to half of the gibberish coming out of his mouth you angrily shoved your boxing gear into the tiny cabinet.

“Like I didn’t already know that,” You sassily replied while snapping your fingers for the extra effect, you could hear his obnoxiously contagious laughter from behind the other lockers.

You weren’t supposed to soften up, but you had to admit you had a thing for bad boys who were too attractive for their own good.

“I have a mate who could help, his name is Ashton,” He commented, emerging from behind the lockers whilst airing out the Nike shirt he wore advancing closer towards you.

You slammed the metal locker door shut, leaning back onto it with one foot perched comfortably upright as you noticeably admired his sky coloured eyes.

“Right well how about instead of-,” You were cut off as he placed his surprisingly soft hands on the underside of your jaw, his rough lips coming in contact with yours throwing your morals off completely.

Nearly falling due to the unbalance of your feet, he trailed his arms down your torso sneaking them around your small waist.

His lip ring contrasted coolly against your lips, cheekily you swiped your tongue across it making him smile into the kiss.

“Where the hell did that come from?” You asked, catching your breath while you tried to come to grips with what just happened.

“You were drooling over me the whole lesson, I decided to do something about it,” he remarked, a stupid grin plastered on his gorgeously attractive face.

“Shut it, Hemmings.”

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nochuobsessed · 6 years

Text

Reign || Pt 25

Reign Masterlist

Word Count: 2.8k

Groups: BTS, EXO, Blackpink, Twice

Au: Royal

Pairing: Baekhyun x Reader, Jungkook x Reader

Genre: Angst | Fluff | Smut | Au

Warnings: oral

Previously:

“So good to see you!” Sehun said, “Where is my nephew? Last time I visited you looked like you were about to burst.”

“He’s sick,” Jungkook says, “We only received your letter today, we thought you weren’t coming for at least a few days.”

“We arrived here sooner than we thought we would,” Sehun said, “Which reminds me, I’d like you to meet my fiancé.”

The girl turned around, her blonde hair looking familiar to you.

Jungkook and you gasped, looking to each other in concern.

Your eyes filled with hatred, “What is this bitch doing here?”

Sehun looked to you in annoyance, “Bitch? This is my fiancé!”

“Your Majesties,” She said, curtsying, “So nice to see you again!”

“Hyuna.”

“Why is she here?” You yell, looking at the blonde in disgust, “What makes you think you’re welcome here?”

“I’m marrying Sehun-ie,” she says, clinging onto his arm like an over-privileged fifteen year old with her handsome betrothed, “We’re going to be sisters!”

Jungkook pulled you closer, his hand tight on your hip, noticing you lose your balance, “This is wrong. Sehun, do you know what she did?”

Sehun sighed, glancing to Hyuna before looking to you and Jungkook, “I do. She regrets everything, she didn’t know you were my brother. I didn’t want her to know I was the bastard brother of the King. She thought I had no money so she tried to become your mistress, hoping to get money for the both of us. When I found out she was being sent to Min, I told her the truth and proposed.”

“I really am sorry,” Hyuna said, looking down, “I thought I needed to provide for the both of us. I’m expecting a baby next year too, so there will be three soon.”

Sehun placed a hand on Hyuna’s flat stomach, “Fancy being called Uncle?”

“I have nieces and nephews,” Jungkook said, “Legitimate ones.”

“I know we never got along,” Sehun says, “But we should reconcile. I didn’t even get invited to fathers funeral, or your coronation.”

You scoffed, “That’s what happens when you’re estranged from the most powerful couple in the kingdoms. A Park Queen, and a Jeon King.”

“Yes, we know. Which is why we want to make things right,” Sehun says, “I am hated for not having the late Queen as my mother. I worry for mine and Hyuna’s future, and our baby.”

“What are you asking for,” You say, “Out with it.”

“We want to stay here, until the baby is a few months old and healthy,” Sehun said, “Hopefully, with us as members of the court, people will think you approve of me and stop the hate.”

You and Jungkook stiffened. He didn’t open your mouth, so you took matters into your own hands, “We will think it over. You may not know, but we sent most of our court members back to their homes, due to Jihan’s condition. You are welcome to stay here for three days. After that we will decide whether or not you can stay.”

The two bowed, thanking you before you dragged Jungkook out of the throne room.

“Y/N- not so fast-“

“They are not staying,” You mutter through gritted teeth, “Why the fuck isn’t she in Min.”

“Sehun is of royal blood, he can stop people going under circumstances such as marriage.”

You pulled him into your room, slamming the door shut, “I want them gone.”

Jungkook lied down on the bed, using his elbows to prop himself up, “You were the one that let them stay.”

You pouted, lying down next to him, “We were having such a good day, and then they come and ruin it.”

Jungkook sat up, climbing on top of you, “It doesn’t have to be ruined.”

He pressed his lips to your neck, then your collarbones, and your barely exposed cleavage. He bunched up your dress skirt, exposing your lower half. He crawled down to the end of the bed, pulling your panties down and groaning at the sight.

“They’re soaked with my cum,” Jungkook said, placing them to the side. You bit your lip watching him take in your scent, a mix of your juices and his seed, “Delectable-“

He dove in, licking a long stripe up to your sensitive pearl. He placed open-mouthed kisses on it, flicking is tongue against it. You tried to keep your mouth shut, to see how long you could last without moaning.

After a few seconds, Jungkook brought his head back up, “Why aren’t you moaning? Am I not good enough?”

You were speechless, unable to say anything. He licked his lips, before attaching himself to your heat. His tongue darted in and out of you, rubbing hard on your clit. You let out a whimper, covering your face with a pillow. Jungkook ripped it away from you, feathers flying everywhere. You moaned out, seeing him act as he was.

“That’s better,” He said, burying his face in your heat. His tongue worked wonders on you, determined to make you moan loud enough for Sehun and Hyuna to hear you. He was succeeding.

You gripped the bedsheets with one hand, and Jungkook’s hair with the other. His teeth grazed over your clit, and you bucked your hips, inching closer to your high with every passing second.

“Fuck, Jungkook-“

Watching you writhing under him, he knew you were about to climax. He moved faster, sucking harshly on your bud.

“J-Jungkook!”

Your hips bucked, and you lost control, crying out profanities and your husbands name. He kept going with his attack on your core, the over-sensitivity driving you crazy.

Your breathing was heavy, and brought your hand underneath Jungkooks chin, making you look up. His mouth was glistening, and he crawled forward, kissing you passionately, letting you taste yourself on his lips.

You looked at his crotch, reaching down to return the favour. He stopped you, “You don’t have to.”

Your eyes widened, “That must be the first time you haven’t jumped at the chance of a blowjob.”

“I live to serve, my kingdom, my people, but most importantly, you,” He says, chuckling as he kept licking his lips to taste you, “I think I would finish too easily.”

“Lie down,” You say, undoing his pants. His cock stood straight, bursting for your touch, “Let me take over.”

You lowered your head down, taking him all in at once. You tried to think of anything else when the tip hit the back of throat, stopping you from gagging. You brought your head back up, before sinking your mouth down his dick, a groan coming from his lips.

“I told you I can’t hold off,” Jungkook said, his lips quirking into a smirk watching you bob your head up and down on his dick.

You went down as far as you could, and swallowed around his cock, pushing him over the edge. His cum squirted down your throat, and you ignored salty taste and swallowed again. He sat up straight, brushing his hair back with his hand.

“I think that’s a new record,” You said, sitting next to him and kissing him gently. “Thank you,” You whispered.

You reached for your panties, attempting to put them back on, only to be stopped by Jungkook, “I’ll keep these.”

“They’re all yours,” You said awkwardly, lying down on your bed, “I mean, I don’t think I could wear them even if I tried.”

Jungkook kissed your forehead, “Rest, we have matters to discuss later.”

You raised an eyebrow, “Later? I want them gone now.”

Jungkook shook his head, pulling the covers over you, “Sleep. I’ll be back later.”

You waited until he had left the room, before standing up and getting dressed again.

“I want everyone invited. My family, the other kingdoms, Hoseoks family, everyone.”

Even though your son was absent, you still made it clear that his first birthday celebration would be happening. You had been talking about it ever since he was born. A grand ball with all the kingdoms invited. He would get to meet all of his cousins, his aunts and uncles. Your mother had even given Jihyung and Jina permission to attend. The future King of Jeon only turns one once, and you were determined to make it the most memorable event possible.

“Assuming the Prince will be back by then,” Jihyo said, “We should be able to have a public event too, for the kingdom itself. Parties held in all the villages, a tour of the country showing off the heir to the throne.”

You nodded, turning to Nayeon who nodded back, writing something down, “The Kingdom will know we are strong. They’ll have no doubts that the Jeon lineage will always be a Jeon one.”

Chaeyoung smirked proudly, “You’ve become a true Queen, Y/N. You went from being held hostage whilst pregnant, to a mother and wife, and Queen of the strongest nation known to mankind.”

You smiled, “Yes, I have, but we must stay on topic. I was thinking gold for the theme, as both Park and Jeon have gold in their official colours. Jihan is a product of both, and should be treated as such.”

Your ladies nodded, “The Prince’s return will be soon, Y/N.”

You froze, before letting out an awkward laugh, “Of course he will. I’ll be writing a letter to my brother tonight to bring him back. There’s been no threats for a few days, and by the time he gets here, I will have murdered the son of a bitch that did this.”

Jihyo’s eyes widened, “So you really are going to kill them?”

You scoffed, writing down some more details about the party, “Of course I am who else would do it? Not Jungkook, it has to be me. It’s my son, I grew him, and so I will kill the culprit.”

Your ladies stayed quiet, and you sighed tiredly, “I’m going to the throne room. Pack everything up, and deliver it to my room.”

“Of course,” Nayeon said, “However, I’d like to do a medical exam later. You seem a little off.”

You stopped walking towards the door, turning around to face your head physician, “Fine. I’ll come back later.”

The castle was cold, not just in temperature. The guards, once friendly and bearing the Jeon colours, now wearing red and gold.

“Wait,” You stopped in front of a guard, “You’re from Park, right?”

“Yes, your majesty.”

“Why are you wearing red and gold? Park colours are white and gold.”

“The colours were changed, your majesty,” He answered, and you scoffed.

“I’m sure. Resume your duties then,” You said, continuing down the stairs.

You entered the throne room, avoiding everyone’s gaze until you sat down next to Jungkook.

“Somethings wrong,” You whispered, leaning over the gold armrest, “The guards from Park, I don’t think they’re actually from Park.”

“What do you mean?” Jungkook asked, kissing your empty ring finger. You sighed at the intimacy, getting distracted for a split second, before remembering your concerns.

“Their uniforms. Jeon guards wear blue and gold, as Park guards wear white and gold. However, the supposed Park Guards are wearing red and gold.”

Jungkook pulled a confused look, “Couldn’t they just be the travel colours?”

“I asked one and they said the colours were changed. You can’t just change the official kingdom colours, it’s a rite of passage.”

Jungkook nodded, “What do you want to do?”

“We need to find out who they’re actually loyal to,” You said, looking down at your intertwined hands, “If they’re not loyal to us, or Jimin, there could be an attack.”

Jungkook looked to you, concern spreading across his features, “I don’t know who to talk to. I’ll call an emergency meeting of the council. You get out of here, stay safe.”

“I want to attend the meeting-“

“Please, go to safety. I can’t trust anyone except you. Go to our chambers, and stay away. I’ll come later.”

You sighed, and he connected your lips, before standing up, holding your hand tightly. You walked away, looking back at him and then to the guards. Your legs felt weak, but you had to keep going.

“You have a lot of bruising on your hips and legs, but that has been a common occurance since you got married.”

“The Queen’s sex life is always the best.”

“Not necessarily, some Kings use whores.”

Your eyes widened at your ladies words, “Girls, please, this is a medical exam, not a lets talk about your friends sex life!” You tried to keep a straight face, but burst into laughter seconds later, along with your ladies.

“Can we get back to your exam?” Nayeon asked, trying to stop laughing, “Anyway, your heartbeat.”

“Yes?” You asked, going back to seriousness, “Is it still beating?”

Nayeon bit her lip, “Yes, but slowly. Too slowly.”

“How many per minute?”

“Around 50.”

You gulped. You knew that was bad. Not extremely bad, but bad enough to cause concern.

“I want you on bed rest,” Nayeon said, raising her eyebrows at you as you tried to stand up, “You’re the Queen, you need be healthy.”

You nodded, “I know, I understand. Can one of you send Jungkook up?”

“Of course,” Jihyo said, “You need to rest. Jungkook will be here shortly.”

Jihyo left the room, leaving you with Nayeon and Chaeyoung. You stood up, holding onto one of the pillars connected to your bed, “Help me get dressed.”

Your ladies did as so, and Jungkook entered not long after. You were helped back into bed, and Jungkook was filled in on your condition.

“With everything that’s going on, I guess we forgot to pay attention to our health,” He said, standing next to you as you got comfy in bed, “You being ill could not have come at a better time. You’ll be hidden, and away from everyone.”

“Did you find out about the guards?” You asked, grabbing Jungkook’s hand and tracing random patterns on it.

He looked at you, no one emotion clear on his face, but rather a combination of different ones. A combination you had not seen since he rescued you.

“They’re not from Park.”

You let out a shaky breath, “I knew something was off. And what about your brother and his whore.”

“I told them to be out by sundown.”

“Perfect,” You say, looking to each of your ladies, “They’ll be gone, and we can deal with our problem discreetly.”

Jungkook nodded, watching you carefully. Why he hadn’t notice how pale you had been, or the dizzy spells was beneath him. He brushed it off as stress, or being tired. But now you were struggling.

“Jungkook,” You said, snapping him out of his gaze. He looked up to see you had dismissed your ladies, so he lied down next to you, holding you gently, “I feel fine, really.”

“I’m scared you’re going to break,” He whispered, removing his hands from around your waist, to caress your cheek, “That if I touch you, you’ll fall into a million pieces, and be gone forever.”

You kissed him, a kiss that meant everything, but also nothing at the same time, “I’m never leaving you. The day you die, I die too. We are one, one heart. Not two. You’ll never be alone. Not ever.”

He pulled you closer, finally feeling at ease. Everything would be alright.

“I’ll meet you downstairs?”

“Yes my darling.”

You and Jungkook always tried to have dinner in the dining room. To make sure that no matter what had happened during the day, you would share a meal together.

“Jihyo, where’s the red crown?” You called out, looking around the room frantically, “Jungkook is wearing his one so mine must match, but I can’t find it.”

“It must have been misplaced,” Jihyo said, a tired breath falling from her lips, “Might I suggest wearing the crown sent from Queen Jennie? You have yet to wear it-“

“That will do,” You said, brushing away any dust that could be find on your blue and gold gown, “We should hurry, I don’t want to be late.”

You walked down the stairs, the new crown shining atop of your head. Your ladies stood around you, making sure you didn’t fall.

“Queen Y/N?”

You stopped walking, and faced the guard. He looked confident, too confident.

“That would be me,” You said cautiously. Something was wrong, very wrong.

“I’m afraid you’ll have to come to the throne room,” He said, grabbing a hold of your wrist. You looked to your ladies in fear, but gestured for them to go back up to their rooms. A Queen protects her people, and goes down first.

You were dragged to the throne room, to see Jungkook, on his knees with his hands tied behind his back. Upon seeing you, he started yelling at everyone to let you go.

He was bruised, with cuts everywhere. His cheeks were tear stained, and his eyes held no hope.

You were pushed to the ground in front of the thrones, landing on your side with a big thud.

“What- what’s happening?”

A high pitched laugh drew your attention. Sitting on the thrones were Sehun and Hyuna, wearing the matching Crowns that had gone missing.

“Sorry, Y/N, Jungkook,” Sehun said with an evil tone, “But we’re going to be the rulers from now on.”

119 notes · View notes

golddaggers · 7 years

Text

chemistry // part three

pairings: teacher!dylan o'brien x student!reader.

warnings: cursing.

a/n: took me long enough, but it’s out! I really hope you’re enjoying this series as much as I’m enjoying writing it.

word count: 3,6k+

part one - part two

Keeping a secret was never really a big deal to me until I was forced to hold a big, hot potato inside my mouth. Well, not really, it was a pretty crappy metaphor, but the thing was: not telling anyone I had recently made out with my hot chemistry teacher was driving me nuts. I wanted to scream at every popular cheerleader who had picked on me: suck it up, bitches, I scored your dream guy.

Oh, no, that’s lame. I honestly think somebody should charge me in for being a horrible teenager. Fuck, it was all so overwhelming! Plus, keeping it from Karen was suffocating me. We had known each other for over seven years now and in that entire time we told each other everything. Literally everything. From our first period to the excruciatingly graphic details of our virginity loss, which, may I tell you, was definitely not pretty. I needed to vent with her, on the other hand, I could also hear Mr. O'Brien’s words echoing in my mind; I couldn’t put his job on the line because some urge to gossip.

Huffing, I started drawing random figures on the corner of a paper I had over my desk. My English teacher, Mrs. Donaldson, who happened to be an adorable old lady and actually one of my favourite teachers, handed to my class a sheet filled with tips on how to write a good narrative essay. She wanted us to, at least, start a brief story as well; it would be our second exam in the semester. Therefore, everyone was busy trying to come up with ideas, while I, uh, was stuck. To say the minimum.

Normally, I’d be all over the place to do it, because I actually loved writing, but today I simply couldn’t bring myself to do it. My head was too lost in thoughts about last night’s events to focus enough on the blue lines in front of me. Shit, never in my life I wanted to yell so much.

“Miss Smith?” The old woman whispered, her tiny hand touching my shoulder. “Are you okay?”

“Oh, hello, Mrs. Donaldson.” I shot her an embarrassed smile, biting my bottom lip afterwards. “Everything is fine, I guess, I’m just worried with some personal stuff. I’m going to start this soon, I promise.”

“You poor thing…” She shook her hand, squeezing my upper arm tenderly. “Do you want to wash your face, maybe? Or drink some water? You look a bit sick.”

“It isn’t necessary, I’m-”

“Sh, kid, just go. It’s only ten minutes for this class to be over.” Her eyes rolled as she waved her at me, dismissing my plea. Man, people really should stop interrupting me. It very, no, deeply, annoying. “Just make sure you hand me this done on the deadline, okay?”

Uh, considering I desperately wanted to go out for a little bit of fresh air, she didn’t need to push me so much to leave, so I agreed without thinking twice, slipping out of the classroom quickly and heading to the ladies restroom nearby. As soon as I got inside the quiet place, I understood why Mrs. Donaldson had said I looked sick: my skin was few times lighter, giving me a sour-milk-like appearance.

Inhaling deeply, I turned on the faucet, allowing the water to run through my fingers for a few seconds before actually washing my face with the cool liquid. Whilst doing so, I began to think about my latter actions and I still had no idea why this was bothering me so much. I mean, it was only one kiss. One good kiss. Hell, Dylan was a great kisser. Just amazing, those lips… Okay, focus. The point is: what would happen now? Just back on our regular student/teacher relationship or something else? Fuck, fuck, fuck! I had never felt more lost.

Switching the water off, I dried my hands and face with some towel tissues, firmly deciding I should talk to Mr. O'Brien soon. Things needed to cleared up for me, otherwise a spot at the local hospital’s psychiatric ward would be waiting for me.

“I just don’t get it, Brittany… Why doesn’t he notice me?” Briannah’s voice echoed on the corridor outside, which made me suddenly panic and hide within one of the small cubicles, going up on the toilet so that they wouldn’t see my feet. “I am attractive and successful. A real trophy.”

“Of course you are, Bri, Mr. O'Brien is stupid.” Her nonchalant tone almost made me throw up. These girls were unbelievable.”That’s the only explanation to why he hasn’t noticed you.”

“Unfortunately, it’s not. He’s smitten with that Smith weirdo. I caught him staring at her, like, a thousand times now.” My breath hitched on my throat, eyes growing wide to her last sentence. “Urgh, men are so strange.”

“Agreed.”

“But I never give up on a challenge, I’m still going to make him mine. Whatever it takes. Now come, we don’t want to be late for his class, do we?”

A few high pitched laughs could be heard fading away, a door slamming shut soon afterwards. I slided down to the floor, not sure to what to do with this information; not the part where Mr. O'Brien checked on me, after last night, I was sure I did catch his attention, or he wouldn’t have kissed me, but the ‘whatever it takes’? It’s so creepy and sounds so much like a soap opera thing. Jesus.

Nonetheless, although I wanted to, I couldn’t stay hidden in a restroom any longer. I had classes to attend. His in particular.

“Okay, Y/N, suck it up.” I murmured, getting back on my feet and unwrinkling my white shirt. “You need to be a woman about this, alright? Alright.”

I walked outside, chin up in the air, and went to the English classroom to pick up my stuff, pacing myself for the next forty-five minutes staring at Dylan’s cute tush, cute lips, cute everything. By this point, my hormones were laughing at my face, giving a rat’s ass about what was right. As if they were alive to care.

Oh yes, I’m definitely getting a spot at the psychiatric ward.

“So, can anyone tell me, based on the current graphic, if this reaction is endothermic or exothermic?” Dylan pointed out, his, now that I have come to notice, long, slim index finger pressing the board where a perfect graphic was drawn. “No need to be shy class.”

“Come on, Smith.” Karen whispered, pinching my thigh, erupting a low ‘outch’ to crawl out of my lips, which, in a matter of seconds, earned to myself the teacher’s attention. “Y/N here knows the answer.”

“Oh, she does?”

Chewing my bottom lip, I finally allowed myself to look at him, finding his eyes pierced on me, the irises of a liquid honey. A small smirk pulled the corners of his mouth up, so adorably cute, I couldn’t help but mirror his expression, nearly forgetting we were at a class crowded with people.

“So…?”

“It’s endothermic, Mr. O'Brien.”

“Can you say why?”

“Uh, looking at the graphic, you can see that the enthalpy grows as the reaction progresses, which means it’s absorbing energy while reacting. That classifies it as endothermic.”

“Perfect, that’s exactly it.” A delighted hum fell from his lips whilst he turned his back and wrote the classification above the draw. “As miss Smith correctly stated, an endothermic reaction absorbs energy, in most cases heat, from the environment. It’s not spontaneous, like an exothermic reaction, it has to be provoked…”

So he proceeded on his explanation, eyes sparkling with excitement. It was incredibly adorable, to me at least, the way he loved his profession so much. But I haven’t been the best judge lately. Not when he was involved, anyway. I guess our kiss worked like a catalyst that triggered the crush I had long forgotten back on. Tell me about an exothermic reaction.

Fine, no more chemistry puns. No one needs those, plus I’m the only who finds them amusing; wait, maybe if I told them to Dylan he would think it’s a funny trait of my personality. Or probably that he made the terrible mistake of being with a crazy girl.

My own thoughts made me chuckle while I copied the informations O'Brien had already put on the blackboard. He wasn’t exactly a writing person, but each topic the man considered important for our exam, and personal learning as well, was perfectly listed there. This organisation was perfect for later studies.

“Psht.” My best friend muttered, her shoulder lightly brushing mine. “What is up with you?”

“This is the fourth time today I tell you there’s nothing wrong. I also texted you three times saying I was good. Why do you keep insisting?”

“First things first, you never told how your ‘class’ went.” She said, rolling her eyes and glancing over her shoulder to see if no one was paying attention to our small conversation. “Second, Mr. McHottie-”

“Don’t call him that!”

“Mr. McHottie hasn’t taken his eyes off of you today. What is up with that?”

“Shut up!” I exclaimed, lowly, my eyes narrowed whilst I shook my head. The brown haired girl solely sighed, her green eyes seeming bored. “Look, I told you nothing happened. Plus, if people hear you talking that-”

“I don’t fucking care, Y/N!”

“Is there are problem, miss Smith and miss Williams?” Dylan queried, ceasing his extensive monologue due to mine and Karen’s angry whispers.

“No, Mr. O'Brien.” Karen denied, straightening herself back on her place. “We’re fine, aren’t we, Y/N?”

In an attempt of keeping myself together, so I wouldn’t fight with her in front of everyone for a silly reason, I took a deep breath and nodded. I knew Karen was upset with the way I was acting in the past two days; to be honest, I didn’t fully comprehended what the hell was going on with me, nonetheless, she needn’t to act like a child about it.

However, before I had even time to, I don’t know, write her a note or something, saying I would explain things later, the bell rang, announcing the end of the class. She gazed over her shoulder at the door one last time, her eyes soaked in upsetness.

Fuck.

I shoved my books back into my blue backpack with an angry huff, placing the right handle on my shoulder.

“Miss Smith? Could you wait a little bit? I want to speak with you.” Spinning on my heel to face him, my eyebrows knitted together, I shot him a confused glance, not knowing why he was asking me to “talk” when a couple of geek girls were still inside the room. “It’s about your grade.”

“Oh, oh, yeah. I totally meant to talk to you about it too.”

O'Brien placed his warm palm against my back, leading me, who was formerly standing next to the exit, towards his desk. Oh God. I knew it was innocent, believe me, I did, but I just couldn’t help the rough wave of electrical shocks that hit me when his hand tenderly pressed my upper back.

He, then, near his stuff, began fumbling through his papers, also leaning in to search on his drawers too; however, if I’m allowed to make a side note, I was damn sure I had the very exam he mentioned carefully stored home inside a file on the back of my school compartment, which means this was some lame excuse for us to talk in private. Smooth, Dylan, just smooth.

I put my hands on my waist, allowing a soft sigh to crawl out my lips, gazing back to find that Angela, a sweet brown eyed girl with glasses and a high ponytail, was closing her notebook and placing it within her greyish backpack. The other one, her friend, Marcia, was positioned by the exit, waiting to go.

“Okay, all set. Bye, Mr. O'Brien. Smith.” She mumbled awkwardly, trudging to the threshold where the blonde teenager awaited for her.

“Bye.” We both replied, waving goodbye.

The second the tall wooden door was slammed shut, Dylan ceased looking for my “wrong” test. Instead, he walked up to me, opening a space between me and his table. For a moment, I got lost on his whiskey coloured eyes, this time filled with doubt. I knew it must have been just as conflictuous to him as it was for me.

“We should-”

“Yes, but not in here.” He said, shaking his head. “It isn’t safe.”

“Then where?”

“Uh, I’d offer my place.” Under those words, I felt myself grow numb and my heart skipped a beat. “Yet, I don’t think it is suitable. Just… Just meet me at this bar later, at eight.”

“I can’t go out tonight, my mum wouldn’t let me.” O'Brien frowned, his forehead wrinkled in exasperation. “Oh what the hell, I’ll figure out some excuse. Just write the address and I’ll be there.”

“Are you okay with this?”

“Of course I am, we need to talk about what happened and if can’t be here, it has to be somewhere else. I don’t really care.”

“Okay, I’ll just write in here and, uh, I’ll be waiting for you there.”

“Fine.”

Convincing my mother to let me go out at night was the hardest thing I have done in my life, however, I managed to succeed at it, promising I would behave and not get into trouble. The rule she established was that I should be home before midnight; what wouldn’t exactly be a problem, because I didn’t think the talk was going to last long. He was probably going to say that it had been a mistake, that we shouldn’t do it again, then I’d be back home. Yes.

Nevertheless, the fact I was most likely getting rejected by O'Brien, despite knowing the undeniable spark we had between us, didn’t stop me from picking up the nicest dress I had in my closet. Well, it was nothing fancy, just a tight black dress with a considerable cleavage on the front that would get his eyes glued to the exposed area of my chest. A girl can try to be sexy, right?

A laugh fell from my mouth as I finished applying the last layer of red lipstick. Giving myself a small wink, I went downstairs, heading out where an Uber was already waiting for me. I quickly got inside, finding a sympathetic looking old man behind the steering wheel.

“Where are you going, miss?”

“It’s a small place downtown called ‘Rojo’ or something like that.”

“Oh.” His forehead wrinkled whilst he scratched his beard. “I know where it is. It’s a bar… Are you sure you’re not too young to be going there?”

“Uh, I think it’s none of your business.” Shaking my head, I fastened my seatbelt. “Now could you please drop me off there?”

“As you wish, young lady.”

The next twenty minutes were painfully slow and quiet; the driver was probably pissed at the way I responded him, not that I cared anyway. If there was something I hated, it was people invading my personal space. Like, he had no business on what I would do at that bar. Ok, I perhaps shouldn’t have come off so strong, the poor man was just being nice to me…

Oh bite me, as if I hadn’t enough to worry about already.

Trying to keep those thoughts away, I shook my head, inhaling a good deep breath and watching the trees pass by me in a blur. Once more, possibly the nth time today, my mind flew back to last night’s kiss. To be honest, I was still in awe, the silky touch of his lips pressed onto mine, his grip on my waist, his hands bringing us closer… Shit, that brown haired, mole speckled man was purely intoxicating. Like a very addictive drug flooding my blood, providing me with a overdose of serotonin.

And I should definitely dim down on the cheesy stuff, because, man, it feels weird. I was getting too excited. What the hell was going on with me?

“Girl, we’ve arrived your destination.” The Uber drive muttered, glancing over his shoulder. “That will cost $20.”

“Thank you.” I mumbled, handing him a twenty dollar bill and quickly walking out of his car, watching the poorly lit place I was currently about to enter whilst hearing the tires screeching as the driver sped out.

“Okay, now I totally see what his point was.”, I thought, gripping my small purse strongly and heading towards the small bar. At a first glance, you would think this was a haunted house due to the entrance aspects, however, once inside, the pub was actually pretty cosy. A light jazz music was playing in the background, small booths perfectly arranged… I could risk myself saying it was a tad romantic. Plus, it was the kind of place no one I knew would visit, which was probably the reason why Dylan chose it.

Speaking of the devil, he was here already, sitting carelessly at a table in the back. Hell, he was looking good. His chestnut brown hair was tousled, beard carefully trimmed, framing those pink lips of his in a way they shouldn’t, a thin grey shirt tight around his muscles… Fuck, I wanted nothing more than to jump onto him and scatter kisses on all of him. Savouring that minted flavour once more.

I clamped my bottom lip between my teeth, trying to contain the sudden rush of adrenaline that ran across my form. He didn’t have to know how his mere presence affected me so much. God he made me feel like a fifteen year old finding out about boys.

“I thought you weren’t coming.” O'Brien muttered, as soon as he acknowledged my presence. He, then, sipped at a white liquid from a glass that was on his table, eyes still gazing down to the cup. “I’m surprised you did.”

“We needed to talk.” I shrugged, taking a seat in front of him. “Plus I never back away from the things I say.”

“Yes, I wouldn’t expect less from you.” His honey irises eventually risen to face me, incredibly hardened this time. “You’re such a mature person, Y/N, I guess it was why I forgotten you are my student last night.”

“Mr.-”

“No formalities, please.” He rolled his eyes, excusing me with a wave. “We can excuse them for a moment, just let me talk, alright?”

“Fine, Dylan, go ahead.”

“First I want to apologise for what I did, I shouldn’t have put you in this position.”

“Excuse me? Are you honestly apologising for kissing me?” This time it was my turn to act annoyed, my hand unconsciously landing over his while I huffed. “I really, really, enjoyed it. Also, it isn’t like you have forced me into it anyway. I kissed you just as much as you kissed me.”

“Yes, but I am the adult. I should know better than letting my impulses get the best of me. I feel like I-I corrupted you or something.”

“Of course you didn’t, that’s silly. I’m seventeen, not five years old.” A small giggle fell from my mouth, my thumb still circling the back of his hand. “But, if you feel uncomfortable, then we can pretend it never happened.”

“This isn’t about being comfortable, it’s about doing what’s right. If we were in a different situation, I’d choose to be with you anytime.”

“Why don’t you?”

“Because it could get you in trouble. Both of us.”

“I don’t care. Not when doing what’s wrong feels so right to me.” Our gazes linked, so filled with emotions I felt overwhelmed for a second. His fingers intertwined with mine, causing my heart to beat irregularly; the electrical waves were back too. “Doesn’t it feel good? Please tell me I’m not wrong about this.”

“It feels amazing, Y/N.” Dylan traced a wet line on his bottom lip, squeezing out palms together. “Can I… Just one last time…?”

“Kiss me? Yes, you can. We don’t have think about the consequences now, do we?”

“No, we don’t.”

Without breaking the skin contact, I hushedly moved to sit beside him, crashing my lips onto his the second my butt was pressed against the cushioned booth. He didn’t hesitate either, hands going down to grasp my hips, digits massaging the region at leisure whilst the man hungrily searched for my mouth, tongue slipping in, fighting with mine. Man, he was a good kisser. I had shudders slapping my form whenever he locked my lower lip between his.

I laced my arms around his neck, pulling our bodies closer and deepening the fond action, wishing I could make this moment last forever. However, a minute or two later, the air ran dry, making us pull away, noses still brushing one another, eyes still connected, foreheads still glued. Everything fit perfectly, like it was meant to be, no matter what the external rules were.

“Oh fuck…” The whiskey coloured eye man whispered, breathlessly. “I fantasized about this a hundred times. I knew it was wrong but I wanted it anyway.”

“You said if we were in a different position, you’d choose me. So… Let’s pretend you’re not Mr. O'Brien and I’m not Miss Smith. We’re Dylan and Y/N, two people who happen to fancy each other. ” Leaning forward I, stole a peck from his perfectly shaped lips. A chuckle escaped afterwards. “What do you say?”

“Yes. I think I can do that. We just have to be Mr. O'Brien and Miss Smith at school.” Dylan dragged his mouth across my face, scattering feather light kisses on my cheek, erupting goosebumps all over my body. “Now what do you say we kiss one more time? For luck.”

“Uh-huh. Anything you want.”

While I surrendered to his gentle touch, I couldn’t help but think that he was everything I never realised I wanted before. And now that I did, I sure as hell wouldn’t let him slip away from my fingertips.

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simplyshelbs16xoxo · 7 years

Text

‘Spellbound’ Chapter 7: Dust to Dust

I finally uploaded my playlist for this fic here (x)

Molly tugged her arm away out of his grip and scrambled to where the ring lay on the area rug. Moriarty had taken full possession of Sherlock’s body and lunged after her. I’m sorry about this, Sherlock, she thought loudly. Molly used her magic to send him flying back into the wall. A deranged laugh escaped his lips.

“Mollycoddles, you wound me,” he spoke dramatically. “It is quite fun using Sherlock’s body to hurt you. Lucky me that my two worst enemies decided to team up.”

“Leave him alone, now!” she shouted.

“And leave myself without a way to get my revenge on you? I don’t think so,” he shook his head—or rather, Sherlock’s head. “You hexed me you bitch!”

“That’s witch, you bastard,” she told him. He advanced on her, pinning her against the ground.

“Maybe I should finish what I started,” Moriarty threatened. “And all while using the body of the man you love.” Molly gripped the ring in her hand and forced it back on Sherlock’s finger. She took his face in her hands, still seeing Moriarty’s sinister expression.

“Sherlock, listen to me, you need to fight him. Push him out of your mind,” Molly told him. “You are strong enough, just look at me. Take all the strength you need from me through my magic. I believe in you, Sherlock Holmes.” She could see that he was fighting as his face changed into a softer expression.

“Molly, need more,” was all Sherlock could muster before Moriarty fought back. She still held his face in her hands and brought his head down to kiss him. There was no lack of passion in it, as there seemed to be literal sparks igniting within both of them. The tingling of her magic enveloped them both. A strong, supernatural wind swept through the house, sending any loose papers flying about the place. Moriarty was forced out of Sherlock’s body and now appeared to them as a translucent ghost.

“Welcome back, my love,” she smiled as their lips broke away.

“Thank you, darling,” he spoke softly.

“Yes, yes, it’s all very touching,” Moriarty rolled his eyes. Sherlock scrambled to his feet and helped Molly up off the floor. His apparition disappeared, leaving to wreak havoc on the cabinets in the kitchen. They were rattling all at once.

“We need to get upstairs to get the sage,” Molly whispered in Sherlock’s ear. He nodded and the pair of them quickly climbed the stairway. Whilst she went in search for the sage in her bag, Sherlock stood outside in the hallway, keeping watch. Molly had just made it to the door when it shut forcibly.

“Molly!” he shouted, doing all he could to get the door open. “Try your magic, darling, it won’t budge.”

“I am trying!” she told him from the other side of the door. All of the lights in the house began flickering on and off as the first sound of thunder boomed outside. A flash of lightning nearly made her jump out of her skin.

“Oh, poor Mollykins and her ordinary Sherlock,” Moriarty taunted.

“Stand back, Molly,” Sherlock told her.

“What, why? What are you doing!?” she asked.

“I’m going to try to shift at will,” he told her.

“Is that even possible?” Molly questioned.

“We’re about to find out,” Sherlock growled. She went to the far side of the room, listening to him shift into his wolf form. Before she knew it, he had taken the door off of its hinges. Molly took in the sight of him—onyx fur, viridian eyes—and breathed a sigh of relief that even as a wolf, he still looked at her the same way; with love, not hunger.

“Sherlock?” she called to him softly. Molly sat on her knees in her black dress with her purple and grey striped leggings. Her hand was outstretched towards him. He walked over to her calmly as if he were a normal domesticated dog. He bowed his head down to her, letting Molly know it was okay to touch him. He did not expect her to hug him. Sherlock reveled in the feeling of her dainty fingers stroking his fur. “You are such a gorgeous wolf, you know that?” She laughed when he snorted at her.

They stayed like that for a few moments, cuddled together. He nosed at the sage on the floor beside her and Molly got the message that she needed to begin expelling Moriarty’s spirit from the realm of the living.

“Sherlock, you bugger,” she giggled when he licked her face. “Come with me to bless the house?” He nodded and followed her out of the room. Molly lit the sage with his lighter and began a walkthrough. “You are unwanted here, James Moriarty. Leave this realm and never return.” A snarl erupted from Sherlock as Moriarty’s apparition appeared in the last room they had to go in. “Ashes to ashes, dust to dust.” Molly went into a deep concentration of repeating a Latin incantation. Sherlock watched as Moriarty slowly disintegrated with ever repetition of her spell.

“Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus omnis satanica potestas, omnis incursio infernalis adversarii, omnis legio, omnis congregatio et secta diabolica.”

Moriarty disappeared in a flash of light, leaving nothing but ash and dust in his wake. The worst was over now. Molly smiled, pleased with her work. She knelt down beside Sherlock and pressed a kiss to the top of his head.

“Come on, how about I help you turn back again,” she offered, but he shook his head. Molly furrowed her brows in confusion but quickly realized he was going to attempt to turn back on his own. After all, it should go both ways, should it not? Sherlock concentrated on how it felt to turn back and soon enough he was human once more. Cold and naked, but human nevertheless. Molly averted her eyes to the ceiling.

“Molly,” he called to her, his tone gentle. She felt him take her hand in his and she continued to avoid looking at him. “Please look at me.” Her eyes met his and found a peace in his gaze.

“Are you okay?” she asked. “I’m sorry for throwing you against the wall.”

“It’s alright, darling, you had no choice,” he chuckled.

“Come on,” she said, “let’s get you warm and clothed.”

After Molly sparked a fire to life in the fireplace in the large master bedroom, she climbed into bed where Sherlock was reading her grimoire.

“What do you think you’re doing, mister?” she teased, scooting closer to lay her head over his bare chest. He was so very warm and the sound of his heartbeat had a calming effect on her.

“Reading your grimoire of course. I thought it was fairly obvious,” he replied, never taking his eyes off the pages. She felt him wrap his free arm around her, pulling her closer.

“Those spells are practically trade secrets of my coven,” Molly told him. “I shouldn’t even allow you to read it.”

“Mm, and you plan to stop me?” he asked. She nodded. “How would you convince me to put this very interesting book down?” Sherlock was being playful and Molly loved it.

“Like this,” she murmured before moving to press her lips to his, one leg thrown over his torso. He put the book down on the bedside table and wrapped both of his arms around her.

“Molly,” he sighed in pleasure as she sprinkled kisses over the expanse of his neck. She traced her lips along his jawline and up over his cheekbones.

“I love you,” Molly whispered, nuzzling her nose against his.

“And I you, my darling,” he replied with a smile. They reveled in the comfortable silence that settled over them until Sherlock moved her onto her back and kissed her fervently. “Do you really think I’m a gorgeous wolf?” He flashed her a wolfish grin, much fitting for the topic at hand.

“Yes, you silly bugger,” she giggled, pulling him down for another session of snogging. It wasn’t long before clothes were shed and a new vision arose as they made love to each other for the first time.

They were dancing in the woods, the only light came from the moon and the fireflies. They were both barefoot, feeling the blades of grass between their toes. Sherlock picked her up in his arms and spun her around, eliciting a joyous laugh from her lips. His curls were unruly and her hair was braided to the side messily. Molly wore a flowing aubergine bohemian skirt that went to her ankles with a simple black bandeau. The moonstone ring was still on her left hand, but now there was an amethyst crystal pendant around her neck as well. Sherlock’s white dress shirt was over his shoulders but not buttoned up. It was open, revealing his chest to her. He still wore his usual dress pants as well. They were just dancing and happy together. Molly had used her magic to levitate them and were literally dancing on air.

The vision had ended there after reaching the pinnacle of their joining, but quickly realized they had been levitating two inches off of the bed. They burst out laughing, trying to catch their breath.

“I may have gotten carried away,” she giggled, lowering them back down.

“Does that happen all the time?” he asked.

“It’s never happened before, actually,” she informed him. Sherlock curled around her, molding himself against her whilst basking in the afterglow together. Molly’s fingertips tingled with her magic and she traced them up and down his arm. She felt him shiver at her touch, letting her know he felt her magic too.

“Feels nice,” he murmured in her ear, nibbling on it affectionately. “Mm, my Molly.” They fell asleep one after the other with visions of their future replaying in their heads.

fanfiction.net |ao3

#Sherlolly #Mollock #Spellbound #my fanfiction #Molly Hooper x Sherlock Holmes #Sherlolly Halloween at 221B

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crumblingautumnleaves · 7 years

Text

Too Far

Requested by: Anonymous

Summary: The boys unintentionally hurt the reader’s feelings after making some careless jokes.

Pairing(s): MET x Reader

Warnings: Swearing, a lil bit of angst but ultimately a happy ending (spoilers).

“What would grandma find disturbing, yet oddly charming?” Mark asked the three of you, waggling his eyebrows in a comical manner.

You scanned your cards before sliding your best into the centre along with Ethan’s and Tyler’s. Kathryn was watching from the sidelines, desperate to get some extra work done, whilst Amy was in bed ill. That just left you and the troublesome trio to record the entire live stream; not that you were complaining, they were your best friends after all.

“Okay,” Mark announced, picking up the cards in front of him. “A big, black dick. Geese. Or...” He trailed off and you suppressed a smirk as you watched his face scrunch into a grin at your card. “Mark’s unquenchable thirst for Jacksepticeye’s delicious asshole.”

The boys roared with laughter and, in turn, you laughed at their reactions. Mark had one hand clutched to his chest as he tried to control his giggles, whilst Ethan was slamming his fists on the table. Even Tyler had one of those rare, toothy smiles on his face as he chuckled alongside them.

“That’s obviously the winner.” Mark managed to get out after his laughing fit, holding up the card for someone to take it.

“Thank you, although it was Mark-luverrr-number-one-xxx that wrote that card.” You declared, plucking the black card from his fingers and adding it to your growing pile of winnings.

“Your turn to pick one, Y/N.” Tyler told you, pushing the cards across to you.

You chose another fan written one and groaned. “What does Y/N do to stay in shape?”

“Y/N? In shape? Please, I saw them get a stitch from running down the stairs too fast.” Ethan laughed and you playfully hit him on the shoulder.

“Just gimme a card so I can judge it.” You nagged him and he stuck his tongue out in retaliation, finally handing you a white card. Tyler and Mark played theirs and you spread them out in front of you. “Ethan’s dying YouTube career. Vigorous jazz hands. Or projectile vomiting.” You studied the cards before picking the ‘Vigorous jazz hands’ card and handing it back to Ethan.

“Yay, I won!” He hollered. “Although I didn’t appreciate the dig at my channel.”

“Ethan, you have three hundred thousand subscribers. That’s great, man.” Mark reassured him, placing a hand on the younger man’s shoulder. “And only about ninety percent of them came from me, be proud.”

“You fucker.”

“Ethan’s right,” Tyler cut in. “He got a few from Jack too.”

“At least I have a real channel, Tyler.” Ethan shot back. “Go on, what else were you gonna mock me for? My acne? The fact that I’m copying every major YouTuber ever? That I moved from Maine to work here?”

The other two boys sat in silence, trying to think of something else to say.

“It could be worse,” Mark said after a while. “You could be Y/N. How many subs have you got, Y/N?”

“Forty thousand.” You grumbled. YouTube was always a sensitive topic between you three, the amount of subs you had compared to your best friends was slightly insulting and you kept finding yourself wondering why your channel was so much more insignificant.

“Now, aren’t you grateful that Mama Mark got you so many subscribers?” Mark asked Ethan.

“I’m clearly not the one who needs help.” Ethan remarked, nodding towards you.

“You’re right!” Mark cried, facing the camera that had been rolling the entire time. “Whoever is watching this, go subscribe to Y/N, they’re not that bad at making videos. Well, they are, but their ideas are original. Expect the gaming, the commentary and the overall theme of it. But yeah, check it out.”

“Gee, thanks Mark.” You mutter sarcastically, trying and failing not to take it personally.

“Sorry, that was uncalled for.” He admitted. “I didn’t mean to insult your channel.”

“Right, he was just wondering why he’s friends with you when you don’t get him extra views.” Tyler joked.

“Exactly. Why do you think Ethan hangs out with me?” Mark agreed, nudging the blue-haired boy playfully.

“Go ahead, you’ve made so many jokes about my career and acne that I’m immune to it.” He challenged.

“Crap, he’s right.” Mark said. “But if we really want to make jokes about physical appearance then we can just rip on Y/N again. Their whole face is one big joke.”

Shock consumed you as you struggled to blink back the tears that were fighting to escape. You couldn’t believe that one of your closest friends had gone there, especially after you had confided in him about your insecurities.

“What’s wrong, Y/N? The weight of reality finally setting in?” Tyler asked, commenting on your silence.

“Dude, not even the weight of reality can compare to Y/N’s weight.” Ethan laughed.

That did it.

“Excuse me,” you whispered, standing up and practically running out of the room. You covered your face with one hand so that neither the camera nor the boys saw the tears flowing down your cheeks.

Locking yourself in the bathroom, you let out a loud sob that triggered several more until your throat hurt and your eyes stung. You glared at yourself in the mirror, scrutinising every part of yourself that you hated. Finally, you wiped away any traces of tears and took a deep breath before exiting the bathroom. However, you got the wind knocked out of you when you immediately walked into something solid on the other side of the door. Looking up, you realised you had crashed straight into Tyler’s chest as he and the other two stood waiting for you with concerned looks on their faces.

“Hey, Y/N, you okay?” Ethan asked softly.

“We wanted to check on you but decided to wait until you were finished in there to apologise.” Tyler added.

You glared at them, hurt sketched across your features. Mark stepped forwards slowly and wrapped his arms around you cautiously, as if you could shatter like glass at any second.

“I’m really sorry about what I said,” he apologised. “We all are. We realise we shouldn’t have made fun of you, even if it was just a joke. It was tactless and we want to make it up to you.”

“You know, I normally wouldn’t care if you make jokes about me,” you admitted. “But what you said is true. I’m constantly afraid that you’re going to cut me out because I’m not as successful as you. And what you said about my looks, well, that just hurt.”

“Are you kidding? Y/N you’re our friend, we couldn’t care less about how many subscribers you have.” Mark reassured you. “And as for your looks, you’re the only one that sees anything besides the smoking hot piece of ass you really are.” He paused before grimacing at what he had just said. “I kinda regret saying that, but you see my point.”

“Thanks, guys,” you mumbled, a small smile tugging at your lips. “I’m sorry I left in the middle of the live stream.”

“Don’t worry about it, you are our main priority. We turned the microphone off as soon as you walked out. Right now it’s just showing Chica sleeping in her bed, the viewers love it.” Tyler told you with a grin.

“So do you want to continue with the stream or should we wrap it up?” Ethan queried.

“No, let’s carry on. I’ll be fine.” You told them, walking back to the table and scratching Chica behind the ears as she woke up from the commotion.

Mark switched the mic back on and apologised for the brief intermission before explaining that you were okay and everything had been resolved.

“And I just want to say in all seriousness that you should check out their channel. I have never known anyone more dedicated to their work, or as passionate about the community as Y/N. We’re all extremely grateful to have them in our lives.” He concluded.

You beamed at him, silently thanking him, before announcing that you should get back to the games.

A few hours later, you had quite possibly destroyed your friendship with the boys in Monopoly as you counted their money and stacked it into neat little piles.

“This is ridiculous, Y/N has all the good spots.” Ethan whined after landing on your square again.

“What can I say? Taking money from men is my speciality.” You say with a smile.

“That makes you sound like a hooker.” Mark laughed.

“Nah, hookers can get laid.” Tyler joked with a wink, resulting in a rude response from you as you struggled to hide the smile that had formed on your face.

“And there goes the last of my cash.” Ethan grumbled.

"Dolla dolla bills, y'all." You cheer, making it rain with their money. “I win, bitches.”

“Congratulations,” Mark drawled. His phone buzzed and he read the notification on the screen. “It’s Amy, she says to check your YouTube account.”

You frown before pulling it up on your own mobile. Everything looked normal except... wait.

“Holy shit!” You cried, clapping a hand over your mouth in shock.

“What is it?” Tyler feigned ignorance, but the smirk on his face suggested he already knew what was going on.

“Four hundred THOUSAND subscribers! I have four hundred thousand subscribers!” You screamed, grabbing the boys and pulling them into a group hug.

“You have more than me? Ouch, that hurts.” Ethan joked, holding a hand to his heart.

“Shut up, Ethan.” Mark scolded, turning back to you. “You deserve every single one of those subs and more. I just wish it didn’t take all this for people to figure that out. Including us.”

You beamed at him, tears springing to your eyes again, only this time you were crying for a different reason. “Thank you, I love you three idiots so much.” You told them. “But just so you know, once I’m Internet famous, I’ll have no use for you.”

“Ouch.”

“Rude.”

“So true though.”

#met x reader #x reader #youtube x reader #crankgameplays x reader #ethan nestor #ethan nestor x reader #tyler scheid x reader #Tyler Scheid #apocalypto_12 #markiplier x reader #mark fischbach x reader #mark fischbach

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loveinruins · 7 years

Text

First weekend away

Last Wednesday night we went for dinner briefly and had a bit of a tiffle because of a heated discussion about MT. MT had come up to me and said she wanted to take her own car because G wasn't speaking to her and I told him that and that's what started our argument.

He basically told me it's none of my fucking business how he goes about doing things and I was like wow ok. He kept going on and on about how we both deal with things differently and I agreed with being silent and he goes again you being silent does my fucking head in more than anything. I'm like I'm not quite sure what you want me to say here G. He goes what did you take away from what I said to you? I'm like it's none of my fucking business who you want to talk to and who you don't want to talk to. He goes are you serious that's all you took from what I said? I go no but that's what's resonated with me. Anyway by the time we left nandos I was a bit upset but just tried not to show it and as we were walking to the car he hugged me by putting his arm around my shoulder and pulled me in towards him and kissed my head. Which made me melt inside even though I was so upset at him. It's funny because when we were on the freeway on the way home I'm like I'm hungry do you wanna get something to eat? He goes it's my Aunty's birthday today and I go oh ok, it's all good. He goes nah we can still eat but are you gonna be a lil bitch tonight? I'm like no wtf and he laughed. He always knows when I'm getting my period or I've got it because I become a moody psycho. More than usual apparently. So we went away on the weekend to Apollo bay and got a really nice house and whatever. It was me, him, AC, MT and KT. Friday after work we had arranged to do the groceries while G finished late and all of us finished at 5.

So we did our shopping and whatever and luckily we had so many groceries so we ended up putting them all in MT's car which meant there was no room for me in her car so I got to go with the boys which is what I wanted anyway.

The car ride was fine, we spoke about MT a bit and then the rest of the time we just had a bit of banter and spoke some shit. We stopped in Geelong for dinner at la porchetta which was bloody awful. By the time we got to the house it was like 12am. When we got to the house the boys were like this house is sickkkkk. It was really really nice, so of course we go to bedrooms first and I'm like bags this room and they're like no wtf just shared with the girls and I'm like fuck no. I'm not sharing with them. AC goes nah you guys can share referring to me and G and I'm like no. He even said bro I'm not sharing with her. Anyway I was like no I'm having this room I swear to god if you make me share with the girls I'll fucking leave. AC was like no you won't. G goes yeah she will, I go yeah I will I'll get B to pick me up and she would. AC was like dude wtf and G was like let me talk to her bro just go, AC walks off and I was like what? He goes T it's not a big deal and I'm here to have fun but seriously it's not fair we paid the same money why should I not have my own room? Anyway I'm just saying. At that point I felt really guilty and selfish but at the same time I was like fuck this shit and I was in the worst mood. So I sat in my room for like half an hr and they were both in the lounge, G went and started the fireplace and AC was showering and getting changed I think. Anyway I eventually stopped sulking and walked into the lounge and sat down. He was like so are you drinking orrr? I'm like nah I don't feel like it. He's like why? I go I just have anxiety I just don't want to and he goes as if we come all this way everyone's drinking. I'm like no. He then grabs my hand and pulls me to the kitchen, at that point I didn't really know how to feel because he made me feel so guilty and I was annoyed at him and in a shit mood but he held my hand.. He was like come on I'll make you a drink what do you want? I was like umm vodka and lemonade so he poured me one and we decided to play kings cup (which btw I've never played before). It was quite funny, I was pretty drunk by the end of the game and we then smoked some weed after and went to bed. Next morning I woke up and made everyone breakfast, AC and KT were both giving me shit for making him breakfast. I was like lol ok whatever I made everyone breakfast not just you guys. We went to the 12 apostles, we split up when we got there the others walked off and it ended up just being me and him and we took a few photos of each other and together. It felt like we were a couple. Afterwards we went to some lighthouse that ended up being closed and we went for a walk anyways to some bushy area with a secret lookout. We went home and started on dinner whilst the boys went to town to buy some more snacks. I had a shower after cooking, got changed and purposely wore a loose white top because he doesn't like me wearing black all the time and plus it was a wise scoop neck so why not. We made rice paper rolls for dinner, it was actually really good. Anyways after dinner we played cards against humanity and drank and got high again. Now while playing CAH I caught him looking at me a few times and I ended up seeing a secret video that AC had snapped and it was him staring at me as I was doing something. He edited a video and put a love heart between us to be funny. I was like lol wow.. he was like checking me out..

Ok so I was dealing the cards after a round and he goes nice bra and I'm like what? You can't even see it. He goes yeah I could when you leant over before and I'm like.. right and he goes yeah it's the same bra you wore that time at the station. Here I am thinking is this guy keeping tabs on me or what? So we're like really stoned at this point and the girls ended up going to bed and I was left with the boys and we were just chillin and I went into G's bedroom with him and we were just having a laugh and a part of me wanted him to be like sleep here tonight but of course he didn't say that nor did that happen. I was taking my make up off with a wipe and he was like what are you doing? I'm like taking my make up off and he goes when did you even wear make up? I'm like earlier this morning. So I mean I'll take that as a compliment I guess.. I can't really remember much after that except for going to bed alone and slightly disappointed even though I was high as fuck. Next morning I woke up, got ready and packed up all my shit and we headed back home. We stopped at Lorne for brunch and walked around a bit. I bought a donut and asked him if he wanted to share a slice of cake with me and he goes yeah and I go do you wanna get this or me? Obviously that was a test to see if he would pay and he didn't.. should've known better by now.

He goes get me a coffee too cheers, so I did and when I gave him the coffee he was like lol oh thanks T (like not expecting it). Anyway so we left Lorne and on the way I had to pee so I made AC stop at a service station to go to the toilet and we ended up watching the mayweather mcgregor fight. There were a big packet of jumpys and I'm like can you get me this pls? He hesitated and I'm like I bought you a coffee, he goes I was waiting for you to bring that up. I'm like lol do you wanna buy me a bueno too? He goes that's if we're leaving before you buy the whole store. So AC drops G off to his car and I was hoping he wanted to take me home but he didn't offer so I just went home with AC. On the way home AC and I got to talking and I'm like you know I heard all your stupid little comments like kiss kiss kiss and saying cute when we'd interact m and trying to make him and I share a room. You made all those comments thinking I didn't hear them huh??? He laughed and goes you have tunnel vision when you're together and I go no I don't. He goes whatever you guys are in your own little bubble. Im like can you not? You guys need to let it go he doesnt like me like that. AC goes yeah but do you? I'm like no I just feel like we're besties when we're together that's it. He goes are you sure? I'm like yes dude. He goes I'm not gonna push it but there's love there..

I thought to myself wtf.. So he took Monday off so I took the train solo yesterday which was different. Then when I saw him today I felt nauseous. He looked extra cute cos he wore a shirt and a blazer. He gave me attitude when I saw him today which irritated me. Anyway I decided to not pay him much attention and I was just quiet during lunch and he goes what's wrong? I'm like nothing just feeling a bit down today. AC was like why? G interjects and goes bro she doesn't want to talk about it. So yesterday I spoke to someone in his team and asked what times they finish this week and he told me 4:30. So I knew he finished early today so towards the end of the day I had anxiety because I wasn't sure if he was going to wait for me or not because I removed him from my Skype list so I wouldn't check his status. Fuck I'm crazy.. It gets to about 5:05pm and I had just gotten off the phone with a customer and I'm like ok well he left without saying anything, probably better off.. then all of a sudden he walks up and I was like.. heart racing but relieved with satisfaction that he waited for me. Maybe because I said I was down he waited for me? Not sure. We walked to the station and I told him about eye see two and the job offer KL spoke to me about. On the train we had a bit of banter, we got onto the topic of how when I came back from Europe that I was gonna leave and he goes yeah but then you met me and like runs his hands into his hair and I rolled my eyes and I go relax yourself lol. At that point I realized he knew I still liked him.

Now I've clued together this because he goes if there was something wrong between us would you tell me? I'm like yeah if it was going to affect our friendship I would and he goes I'll keep that in mind. I honestly think he likes me liking him. I don't know. Honestly. Oh and when I told him about eye see two he goes I knew it. I knew it was going to be that. He asked me to drop him off to his car even though the train we were taking was going to stop at Yarraman. I was like fineeee, I guess if I get to spend more time with him then great lol. On the way to his car he was like T everything in your life is great, why are you feeling down? I go I dunno. (When in reality I just can't help but wonder why he doesn't like me like that?) I'm like I am grateful for everything, I dunno. Before he gets out of the car he's like thanks for the ride, btw thanks for waiting for me (like speaking about himself in third person) I acted surprised like waited for me? He goes yeah I finish at 4:30 this whole week and I go ohhhh and he closed the door and looked back at me and I smiled and waved bye and drove off. In my heart I know that he will always have a place there but I'm not helping myself by over analyzing what he says. I need to stop. I've asked the universe to send me a guy who wants to love me and be with me. Sigh.. until next time. T xxx

#deardiary #dear diary #headfucked #he knows #i'm crazy

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golddaggers · 7 years

Text

chemistry // part two

pairings: teacher!dylan o'brien x student!reader.

warnings: besides cursing? none.

a/n: look finally decided to realease chapter number two? hahaha :) plus, I’d like to announce that I will be uploading every Saturday. well, the ones I can because university is a bitch. nonetheless, proceed to your reading.

word count: 2,6k+

part one

For some weird reason I was yet to figure out, because it was a lot unlike me, I woke up in an incredible good mood. Which could totally be related to the fact that today was the first sunny morning after weeks enduring grey skies, rain, thick coats and freezing temperatures. Not that I hated all of that, except I did; it made me feel depressed. Plus my hair looked awful.

Yawning tiredly, I stretched out, sitting on my bed. While doing so, my eyes fell to Karen’s sleeping figure all curled up like a ball underneath three sets of sheets on a mattress carefully placed on my carpeted floor. She had decided to stay over the night because we still needed to go over some flash cards to our Algebra exam, that happened to be today, after my mother’s delicious dinner. I wouldn’t be the one to blame her, Louisa Smith was definitely a good cook, which means her belly was probably too full for her to find the strength to leave.

A small laugh slipped past my lips as I got back to my feet, muscles still numb for the amount of hours I stayed in the same position. Either way, I was refreshed to have had, at least once and in a long while, a decent night of sleep; also, the recently made coffee scent alongside the, very likely, scrambled eggs, homemade buns and everything a hungry person could dream about got my stomach complaining, setting my destination to the kitchen room.

The lovely forty year old woman I called mum was humming happily to a song whilst, by smell, squeezing oranges to make my favourite juice. I understood she used cooking as a self defense mechanism to keep herself together; we were still struggling with our father’s departure. It was complicated to even bring up in conversations, so, eventually, we just sort of stopped. I was pretty sure she would get over it. She was the strongest person I had ever known, of course she would.

“Good morning.” I mumbled, hugging her tightly, feeling her tummy shake as the woman laughed. “And this smells great, by the way.”

“Good morning too, sweetheart. What got you up so early?” My mum quizzed, directing me one of her best soothing smiles. “Are you nervous about the test?”

“Yes, obviously.” Rolling my eyes, a tiny smirk curled my lips as I took place at the table. “But it’s not why I’m up. I actually have no idea, but I have this feeling today is going to be great.”

“Well, I’m glad you’re happy, baby girl.”

“I am too, mum, these past weeks haven’t been easy, exactly…”

“Yes, I am aware of that, but you know what? We’re in a much better place now.”

“I think so too.” Supporting my elbows on the table, I watched my mother’s tired traits. “I want you to be happy too, ma.”

“I’m going to be fine!” The older woman looked away, prohibiting me from spotting her probably glassy eyes. “Now eat, before-”

A pale seventeen year old walked inside wearing a ridiculous bright red nightshirt and a sleeping mask controlling the brown mess that her hair was. She smiled kindly to both of us.

“Mrs. Smith, if you were going to say ‘eat before the eating monster arrive’, that would have been a great advice.”

The three of us shared a laugh before reuniting at the already set kitchen table, everything in place so we could eat together; Karen stole to her plate two muffins, three little breads, a couple of bacon’s slices and eggs, obviously. My mum and I just gazed at her, trying to hold our chuckles back. For someone so small, my friend definitely had a huge appetite.

Once the fun moment was over, we conducted a rather great breakfast, discussing light matters and gossiping like three old friends would do. To be honest, while we chatted, I was in awe to see that my mother was indeed improving; you could tell she had no masks on this time. No pretending nor disguising to be okay. It was purely and merely her.

Yes, this surely was a sign that a great day was ahead of me.

About twenty minutes later, Karen and I went upstairs to get ourselves ready to go to school. Because it was still a lot early, each one of us took our time to enjoy a warm bath, to pick a nice outfit, fix our hairs, etc, etc. Standard girl stuff, I guess.

“So,” The brown haired girl questioned, brushing her hair and locking it up in a tight pony tail. “You haven’t mentioned your date with Mr. McHottie a single time. Aren’t you going to go?”

“It’s not a date!” I whined, putting on a colourful sundress that fell to the mid of my thighs. Her green eyes glanced at me in disbelief, a smug grin taking over her heart shaped face. “It’s not! This is a class. Strictly professional.”

“Yeah… I just don’t buy it.” Scoffing, she stood and straightened her grey skirt, which matched perfectly her white buttoned blouse, the blue cardigan and also her heels. “You wouldn’t be dressing so nicely if the inner you didn’t think this is more than a casual lecture.”

“You are crazy, Karen.” Shaking my head, I slipped in my normal tennis shoes and put on a jeans jacket, grabbing my already fixed backpack that was placed near my closet’s door. “Can I just be in a good mood for once? Not everything has to be about men, you know.”

“What are you implying?”

“I’m not implying anything, I’m just mentioning I’m happy. That’s all. And that it has nothing to do with Mr. O'Brien.”

“Fine, if you don’t want to talk about it, I won’t push it.” Karen sighed, collecting her bag as well. “But, seriously, who are you denying this for? Me or you?”

The girl left without giving me time to even come up with a proper answer. Of course she had point; Karen knew very well I had had a crush on him a while back, in the tenth grade. But it was over, I was just kid. Furthermore, I highly doubted Mr. O'Brien would even think about the possibility of being with student; he was way too professional for that to happen. Like, friends, I guess, but dating? Not in million years.

A final exhale escaped as I made my way downstairs; I sure as hell needn’t to convince anyone, nor myself, that nothing was happening, because, well, nothing was happening. He was just being nice. That’s all.

“What took you so long, darling?” My mother questioned as soon as I took my place on the front seat, putting my bag on my lap as I fastened my seat belt. “You look pale too.”

“I’m fine, I swear.” Gazing through the corner of my eye to the back row, I saw Karen shake her head, frowning at my response. “By the way, I might be running late today.”

“Why so?”

“Uh, my chemistry teacher, Mr. O'Brien, offered to help me catch up on the subject. He said I have been off lately.”

“Isn’t Mr. O'Brien the hot one?”

My cheeks quickly reached a scarlet tone as my eyes grew wide to her last sentence. Since when does my mother notice if people are hot or not? I was clearly shocked, yet, Williams broke the tension with a laugh, getting mum to do the same.

“Mum!”

“Just commenting, silly girl. You should see your face.” She stopped under a red sign, looking at me tenderly. “If he says so, I’m okay. Just don’t be so late, alright?”

“Got it.”

Connecting the white earbuds to my phone, I opened the Spotify app and swiftly drowned myself on Sofia Karlberg’s version of the song ‘Toxic’, wishing nothing but to distract myself of all the things that could lead me into thinking of my encounter later with a certain chemistry teacher.

As it turns out, the whole putting out of my mind my own human personification of a Greek God was incredibly hard. I mean, I tried, I really did, but his sinful honey eyes kept haunting me the entire course of my classes. Seriously, why couldn’t him be like my AP Calculus teacher: bald, pudgy and not at all attractive? It would make things a lot easier for me.

Biting my bottom lip to contain a frustrated sigh, I glared at Mrs. Ziemann, trying to focus on her interesting lecture about the end of World War I. She excitedly explained how wrecked both Italy and Germany were once it was over, especially the latter, with the cruel Treaty of Versailles. Oh, well, at least paying attention to that could allow me to forget I was only five minutes away from my meeting.

As the woman finished her presentation, I wrote down a few topics to look upon later when studying the subject, which I needed to do, because this good looking lady was known for her killer exams. On a side note? I may have cried myself after a couple of them.

“And this wraps up our class today.” She smiled solemnly, her pretty blue eyes locked on the back of the class where the lacrosse team was based. “Oh, wait, before you all go, I would like to inform I want, for next week, a paper on the tragic events at the end of World War I.”

This time I didn’t hold back a sigh, taking notes on my journal to do this assignment soon, for next week I also had, oh darn, a chemistry exam. Fate must really think my life is a big fat joke. That’s ought to be it.

I swiftly packed my stuff, placing a handle on my right shoulder and moving away from the class, only to find Karen leant against a wall outside, trying to look casual while chewing gum. Oh, yes, I had to solve this too.

“Please tell me you forgot about our little misunderstanding from earlier today.”

“I didn’t.” Her eyebrows were knitted together, her mouth forming a straight line. “But I’m willing to move past it if you promise to tell me the details of your “class” with Mr.McHottie.”

“You are such a gossiper!” I laughed, stopping at my locker to get my Chemistry book volume two. “I have been trying all day long to not think about it.”

“Let me guess: useless.”

“Damn right it was.”

“Well, he won’t bite you, at least.” The green eyed girl patted my back, a smirk plastered on her face. “Not unless you want to, I guess.”

“You are such a mean whore.” We both chuckled, our next stop being in front of Mr. O'Brien’s office, me knocking at the door twice. “And this is where I leave you, K.”

“Tell me the details!” She whispered, winking at me playfully. “I mean it!”

“Get out! Now!”

Williams raised her thumbs up to me, winking one last time then disappearing in the halls just before the brown haired man, also known as Greek God, also known as my chemistry teacher, opened the door. I certainly wasn’t ready to see him so loose, if that’s the correct term.

His hair was more disheveled than usual, the scruff still framing the beautiful pink lips, his white casual shirt had a button open, revealing an adorable puddle of chest hair, and his red tie was lying over his desk from what I could see. O'Brien directed me a comforting smirk, placing his rather large hand on my back, pulling me to get inside the room. One small comment so we can proceed: did he have a heater on or was it me that just suddenly grew warmer under his touch?

Gripping tighter on my hard covered book, I went forward to take seat on one of the first row’s places whilst he stayed behind to close the door. Okay, first minutes, still not weird. Maybe just a little bit. Why am I so tense?

“Are you okay, Smith?”

“Yes. I’m sorry, I’m just a little bit nervous…”

“You don’t have to be.” He smirked tenderly, pulling a chair to sit in front of me. “It’s just you and me, plus I won’t do anything to you.”

“Uh, people already think you-”

“Well, I seriously don’t mind what people think. You’re amazing, you know?” His eyes connected with mine for a while until he gazed down at his feet. “I meant as a student. That’s why I picked you to tutor.”

“Thank you, Mr. O'Brien, you are a wonderful teacher as well. I love your lectures so much!”

“That’s relieving, it would be pretty bad if my favourite student didn’t like them.” A small laugh slipped and, suddenly, all the nervousness was gone. “Should we start?”

“Yes, definitely.”

The following hour was simply incredible!

If him teaching to a whole class was good, having him as a mentor was even better. It was like he didn’t have to hold back nor maintain a straight face all the time. Plus the jokes? Damn, I could never have imagined he had such a great sense of humour. I mean, the man had gift on finding the right words to make me laugh like there was no tomorrow.

By the end of our time, I had not only gotten more confident on physical chemistry, but also met a side of my teacher I didn’t know previously. Mr. O'Brien, or Dylan, as he asked me to call him, was a sweet, caring guy. If the fifteen year old version of me had known this, she would be dead and buried now. God, I was a lame kid.

“It was nice being being with today.” He mumbled, nudging my shoulder with his and wearing the best smile in the whole wide world. “I’m glad we’ll be doing this for a few more weeks.”

“I’m glad too.” The watch on my wrist told me it was over six pm, which strictly meant my mum would be all over the place once I got home. “I should get going.”

“Wait, I-I…”

“Yes?”

“Oh, fuck it.”

Not thinking twice, he cupped my cheeks, pressing his perfectly shaped lips against mine in a sweet, tender kiss. At first I was surprised, however, as his tongue slowly licked stripe at my bottom lip, I melted away, surrendering to his touch. It was definitely nothing I could have ever dreamt about. The way his hands found the crook of my waist, how we moved in perfect sync… Everything felt like this was meant to be.

When air became necessary, we merely glued our foreheads together, gazes boring into one another. It wasn’t perfect, it wasn’t ideal, but, hell, I enjoyed this.

“I’m sorry, Y/N, we shouldn’t-”

I didn’t want to hear the rest, he wouldn’t pop my bubble so soon, therefore, I kissed him again, this time with much more passion and hunger. So strong we were left a heaving mess afterwards.

“You’re an amazing kisser too.” O'Brien whispered, making me giggle. “I mean it.”

“You are one crazy person, O'Brien.”

“I told you should call me Dylan.”

“As you wish, Mr. O'Brien.” Playfully winking at him, I stole another peck, earning a small smile from him. “This is crazy… I mean, someone could have seen us! Oh, fuck, what if one of the cleaning ladies saw us? You could lose your job! Shit!”

“Relax, nobody saw us.” His thumbs massaged my cheekbones, trying to sooth me. “But you can’t tell this to anyone, okay? Not even Miss Williams. Even though I don’t regret one bit, I could really lose my job if this comes out.”

“Of course I won’t tell anyone, it will be our little secret.”

“Deal.”

I hid my face on the crook of his neck, breathing in the intoxicating musk of his cologne. I couldn’t believe this was actually happening to me; I mean, it was too surreal. If it was a rumour about Briannah, I would have believed more, because, well, she did want to do it, but me? Nah, it was messed up. Nonetheless, it wasn’t less real. I was indeed within his arms. And, in that particular moment, I decided to not care about the consequences any longer.

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