litmus test | s.r.
in which Spencer needs your expertise to help solve a murder, but crime fighting is most decidedly not for you
find more chemist!reader here!
who? spencer reid x chemist!reader
category: flangst (like. the end is a little angsty and it has case details)
content warnings: typical cm violence, science talk, fem!reader, reader is not built for crime, morgan being an older brother, some fun banter!! death by firework is crazy lmao
word count: 1.68k
a/n: this is one of my favorite fluff pieces i've written in agessss i missed chemist!reader so much i learn so many things when i'm writing her. this was a request! i hope you like it as much as i do!!
“Do you have a second?” Spencer asks, his voice slightly choppy over the phone. Between his ancient phone and being inside concrete police precincts, some disconnect was bound to happen.
Saving your document to your computer, you rest the lab phone between your shoulder and ear, “If you’re asking me if I have any corrosive chemicals in my hands, the answer is no.”
He chuckles lightly, “I never know with you.”
You roll your eyes in response, even if he can’t see you, “It was one time and I needed a new phone case anyway.”
“You fused the plastic of your phone case to the material of your phone,” he retorts far too quickly for your liking.
“Yes,” you acquiesce, “but I know the exact chemical reaction that caused that phenomenon.” You cross your legs one over the other, maintaining your balance on your lab stool as you speak to Spencer over the phone.
He gave a light hum in response, “Speaking of chemical reactions – I need your help.”
Your eyebrows shot up in surprise, “You’re asking me for help in chemistry?” There really was a first time for everything, you suppose.
Spencer was more than capable of navigating a lab on his own, even so, he admits, “You have more applied practice than I do.”
Pursing your lips, you nod to yourself, “Fair enough. What’s stumping you, Dr. Reid?” Your inquiry, while innocent enough, garners a wolf whistle from your graduate assistant.
“There’s something burning a hole in these bones, and I’m not sure what would be causing it to happen this fast,” he explains, giving you minor background information on how long the bones were out and if the medical examiner had treated them with something.
You clear your throat, frowning at the notes you had scrawled down in front of you, “Burning or corroding?” What was seemingly a meaningless distinction would actually allow you to filter through approximately half of the possibilities.
“Corroding,” he corrects himself, “My mistake.”
Crossing off some of your notes, you purse your lips at the new possibilities, “No worries. Did you try flushing it out with water?”
You hear papers flipping on his end of the call before you get a response, “That would destroy evidence.”
“Well,” you raise your eyebrows, “It sounds like your evidence is destroying itself.”
“Baby,” Spencer says in a no-nonsense tone reserved for when he was deep in a case. You could’ve sworn you heard Morgan in the background of the call mocking him for the pet name.
Turning back to your notes, you sigh, “Yeah, yeah, all work and no play. Was the body buried?”
“Partially,” his reply intrigues you, “I can have Garcia send you the crime scene photos if you think it’ll help.”
Wrinkling your nose at the thought, you made an unsure sound, “Right, because nothing says lunchtime like getting up close and personal with a homicide victim.”
“What lunchtime? It’s three pm in D.C. right now,” he caught you, a slight chiding tone in his words.
Ignoring his questions, you ask more of your own, “Was the body near water? Did they test the pH of the soil and water?”
There were more papers flipping, likely someone presenting the results of those tests to him, “Yeah, the soil was a five-point two and the water was a seven-point eight,” he listed off for you.
While your knowledge of the pH of the soil in Iowa was limited, you did know that those levels were pretty on par for the northern Mississippi River. “O-kay,” you say, extending your vowels, “and they didn’t find anything else on the scene that points to corrosive materials. Hydrofluoric acid?” You posit, “No, you know what – maybe you should send me those files. My work email is encrypted, you can give it to Penelope.”
He speaks to someone else in the room with him and you resist the urge to ask him if he’s enjoying Iowa, “It’s sent,” he confirms with you.
Pulling up your email only takes a moment, and once you get over the initial shock of seeing a dead body on your computer screen, you lift your lab glasses to the top of your head in order to get a better look. “I mean,” you think for a moment, “those look like alkali burns to me. I’ve never seen them on bones before, but you should do a litmus test to check either way.”
“So, we rinse it with water?” He asks, seeking instruction from you in a way that makes you feel oddly powerful.
Your eyes widen, “No, no, no. If it’s a metal compound then it’ll be covered in a mineral oil, so rinsing it with water would actually make the burn worse.”
Pausing for a moment, you consider the possibility that Spencer didn’t have the luxury of time – he was trying to solve a murder, not do experiments in a lab.
“Alkali burns can be serious, it all depends on what caused them, and most are helped by rinsing with water. So, unless you have the time to test for metal compounds, I’d go ahead and rinse it. You might want to brush the damage to the bones with a dry brush first. If there’s lime on the bones it’ll foam, which not only will corrode the bones even further but it might release a toxic gas,” you have no idea how the corrosion would interact with bone marrow, but something tell you that you don’t want to know
“Wait a minute,” Derek interjects, being included in the conversation now that Spencer put the call on speaker, “I thought things like alkaline water were good for you.”
You scoff instinctively, “Oh, there’s no definitive evidence that shows alkaline water as having any real health benefits. Especially not the benefits that the internet says it has.” Straightening up in your stool, you continue, “In fact, there is evidence from the NIH that says drinking alkaline water could cause kidney damage. There’s a particular-“
“My bad,” he interjects, effectively stopping your rambling before it really took off, “I forgot whose girlfriend I was talking to.”
Groaning at your new vexation, you huff, “Oh, fuck off, Derek. Go kick down a door.”
Spencer quickly switches the phone back, “Thank you, angel.”
Squinting at the photos that were still on your laptop screen, a crude, disturbing thought came to mind, “You know, sparklers can cause alkali burns. It might be something to consider because of the diameter of the burns.”
Your boyfriend was silent on his end of the call for so long that you had to check and make sure the call hadn't dropped. “Did you say sparklers?”
“Yep,” you confirm, “like the ones you can get everywhere this time of year.”
He says something to Morgan, placing his hand over the receiver so you can’t hear, “There’s only one spot in this town, though. I’ve gotta go, see you soon.”
“Stay safe, please! I prefer your bones unburned,” you rattle off into the phone before it clicks, placing the phone back on the stand and deleting the crime scene photos from your inbox.
The front door to the apartment opens and shuts quietly, with Spencer under the assumption that you already went to bed, he was surprised to find you on the couch, nursing a cup of tea. “Hey, baby,” he chirps, unusually peppy for this time of night.
“Hey,” you say half-heartedly, threading your fingers through the handle of the mug.
Your somber tone gets Spencer’s attention, “What’s wrong?”
The slight panic in his voice causes your eyes to snap up to his, “Nothing,” you murmur. “It’s just… the woman who was in those pictures. There- the burns on her bones, they were signs of torture, weren’t they?”
You’d been thinking about the burns ever since Spencer showed them to you, “Yes,” he answers with a reciprocating softness, sitting down next to you on the couch. “The medical examiner concluded that she was burned antemortem.”
That woman had been burned alive by fireworks, sparklers had seared their way through skin and muscle until it finally met her bones. You blink a few tears from your eyes at the thought, “I like my lab, Spence.”
The confusion on his face was palpable, “I know you do.”
“I like my minimal human interaction and my chemicals, and I like knowing why certain things cause certain reactions. I like it when things make sense.” You take a deep, shaky breath, “Killing someone. Torturing someone with fireworks. That just doesn’t make sense to me.”
You had no interest in hearing the excuses that the killer had provided. You had no interest in hearing the psychological breakdown of that woman’s killer. Spencer knows that, “The photos got to you?”
Taking a sip from your mug, you nod solemnly, “I can’t stop thinking about the way it must have felt. Oh, the smell must have been horrible. That poor woman.” In theory, it was a ridiculous notion, killing someone with fireworks seemed neither probable nor possible. Yet here you are.
“But we got the person who killed her,” Spencer reassures you, resting his hand gently on your knee. “We couldn’t have done it without you,” he adds.
Your face warms at his compliment, “I wish I could have helped before she was killed.” You were grateful that Spencer hadn’t passed on any personal information about the woman, it was easier for you if you kept things in separate storage files in your mind.
Spencer hums, reaching out and sweeping a strand of hair behind your ear, “There’s always going to be another one. I’m sorry about the photos, I should’ve made sure Garcia only sent the necessary ones.”
Nodding absentmindedly, you look at him thoughtfully, “This will pass, but for tonight I just feel bad for the victim.”
“I can have Penelope share some of her favorite baby animal videos, if you’d like,” he offers softly, resting his head on your shoulder.
In return, you give him a small smile, “Well, I suppose it really can’t hurt.”
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I love you, it's ruining my life | Part V
pairing: Kylian x black!fem!Reader
word count: 4.5k
part one, part two, part three, part four
V. May 2024
She’d gotten the invitation in the mail a few weeks ago, a creamy white envelope announcing the upcoming wedding of Julien, a childhood friend from Bondy, to his fiancee of several years. Seeing his name on the paper had brought a smile to her face; it had been years since she’d seen him.
She’d be in Paris to visit her parents anyway, it would be a crime not to go.
She’d quickly written to him to say congratulations, and Julien had texted back a thank you. Moments later, he’d texted her something she’d expected.
Not sure if you’re still in touch with Kylian, but if you can let him know about the wedding, that’d be great. We haven’t seen each other in ages!
Unsurprisingly, the response she’d gotten from Kylian was a firm and resounding no.
“Why not?” She’d asked over the phone.
“Because of a lot of things, Y/N” There was a lot of chatter from Kylian’s end, she had caught him just as he’d entered the locker room after a grueling match.
“Well, what are those things?” She’d asked.
“I can’t just go to a wedding” He’d grumbled. “Haven’t been able to do that in years, in fact. I have to think about bringing security and all that stuff”
She’d expected he’d say that, so her response was quick. “So bring your bodyguard. I’m sure Julien and his fiance won’t mind”
“And let someone leak a story to the press about how I’m a stuck up asshole who brings a hundred people with him everywhere he goes?” He’d snorted. “No thanks”
She’d rolled her eyes. “I don’t think anyone we grew up with would do that, Kylian”
“How would I know? I haven’t spoken to those people in years”
“I haven’t either.”
“Exactly” He’d said. “Let’s just not go. It’s Ousmane’s birthday party that weekend anyway. Actually, he said to tell you that you should come”
She’d frowned. “So you’d rather go to a party than to your childhood friend’s wedding?”
“It’s just a wedding Y/N” He’d said, his tone weary. “People get married all the time”
She couldn’t believe how mean and dismissive he was being.
“And get divorced all the time” He’d continued, letting out a humorless chuckle. “The stats on that are crazy, actually. Someone should let Julien know”
“What? Kylian, that’s so harsh. Why are you talking like that?” She was starting to get angry now.
“I’m not being harsh. Just honest” He’d said “Look, the last thing I need right now is to go to a public event, okay? I’m sick of people asking me about where I’ll be next year, and I’m sure as hell sick of having a hundred cameras pointed at me”
“Ok, then.” She said, her irritation evident in her voice. “You have fun at the party. I’ll go to the wedding.”
“But–”
“Tell Ousmane happy birthday for me”
He’d paused before responding with a resigned “Fine”
They hung up after that, goodbyes curt. She didn’t know what was going on with him, but he’d been very tired and irritable lately. He called less and less, and took longer to text back whenever she reached out. She suspected it had to do with his contract with PSG, which she knew was nearing its end, but they didn’t speak about things like that. If he had news, he’d tell her. So far he hadn’t said anything, which meant things were probably still up in the air and it was troubling him. She’d chalked it up to that, and was therefore able to quickly move on from the conversation.
The day of the wedding arrived, and Y/N found herself at the crowded venue of the wedding reception, wearing a silky blue dress she’d bought a long time ago but had saved for an occasion like this. She was seated next to Manon, a girl who used to live two doors down from her, and Anna, who she knew was Kylian’s first kiss and who she’d consequently been very envious of as a pre-teen. It was great catching up with the two and reminiscing about the old days. It turned out Manon worked in marketing while Anna was a tattoo artist.
“So, are you and Kylian still friends?” Anna asked, taking a sip from her drink. The toasts had been made, and dinner had been eaten. They were now watching the bride and groom take the floor for their first dance.
“Yeah” She said. “We’re still friends”
“Well, wave him over then. He looks like he’s lost” Anna nodded towards something behind her.
Y/N whirled in her seat. Sure enough there was Kylian, his head down, weaving his way through the tables. People looked up to stare with hushed gasps as he passed by them. Y/N raised her arms to wave, and thankfully his bodyguard noticed and started guiding Kylian towards their table.
“Hi” Kylian said, smiling tightly as he pulled a chair and took a seat.
“Hi” She said. “I thought you weren’t coming”
He shrugged. “You were mad at me”
“And I was right to be” She said, smiling despite herself. He looked handsome, she could tell he’d gotten a fresh cut.
“Sure” He rolled his eyes before turning to their tablemates. Anna and Manon were briefly starstruck as he greeted them, as if they forgot they’d grown up with him. The initial awkwardness wore off quickly though, and before long they were all chatting animatedly.
“Remember when you two–” Manon chuckled, gesturing between Kylian and Anna.
“Ah, yes. When we dated for a whopping two days in the seventh grade” Anna laughed. “I do remember that”
Kylian laughed along with her, shaking his head in embarrassment.
Y/N couldn’t help but snicker. “Two days? What happened?”
Kylian opened his mouth to respond but Anna beat him to it. “We kissed one day, and then the next day was valentine's day. I found out he gave you a card, while I got nothing. So I dumped him”
Y/N gasped, elbowing Kylian. “Oh my god, I remember that. Those anonymous valentine’s cards we did in class. That was the first year someone sent me one, I was dying to find out who it was. I didn’t know it was you”
“Oh, we all knew” Manon said while Anna nodded in agreement.
“Everyone knew he had a crush on you” Anna said. “At least everyone except for me. I found out after the whole card thing”
Kylian said nothing, keeping his eyes trained on the bride and groom as they swayed.
“Okay, so what happened after that?” Y/N pressed. She was flushed. If only her twelve year old self had that information. “Did you two ever talk again?”
Kylian finally turned to her, a hint of a smile on his lips. “Not really. I acted like it never happened” He grimaced at Anna. “Sorry about that, by the way”
Anna laughed. “You were the ultimate heartbreaker, Kylian!”
He chuckled, but there was a flicker of something in his eyes that made Y/N’s heart skip. “Yeah, well, I got my karma back, don't worry.”
“What do you mean?” Anna asked curiously.
He hesitated before answering. “I’ve had my fair share of heartbreaks, is all”
Y/N looked down at her lap, idly fiddling with her jewelry. The cynic within her had convinced her that Kylian didn’t care for her in that way. She’d allowed herself to believe he wanted her only for her body, just another fleeting fling in a long line of them. But his behavior over the past couple of months had made it clear that her own insecurities had clouded her judgment. She had the person she cherished most right in front of her—the boy she had loved since she was twelve—and yet she had pushed him away.
As she watched the bride and groom twirl, doubt grew inside of her. Was that kind of love even possible for her? Could she ever meet someone she cared for as deeply as she did for Kylian? The thought felt almost laughable. In her heart of hearts she knew that there would never be anyone else who could fill that space in her life.
Suddenly, the DJ switched to an upbeat song and people started to flock to the dance floor, eager to join the bride and groom. Manon and Anna went off as well, leaving just the two of them at the table.
Y/N nudged Kylian gently.“Dance with me?”
He looked at her with an apologetic look, wordlessly shaking his head no. He looked tense, evidently very aware of being in public.
Y/N visibly deflated. She wanted to be in on all the fun, but Kylian clearly wasn’t up for it. Oh, well. He did come here for me. I don’t need to make him even more uncomfortable, she thought.
She smiled tightly at him, hoping he couldn’t see her disappointment. But of course he did.
He hesitated before grabbing her hand and standing up, pulling her out of her chair. “Let’s go”
She grinned, her heart fluttering as they made their way to the dance floor. Sometimes, when he did things like this purely to make her happy, the walls she’d built around her feelings for him would break down, sending her heart into a joyful spin.
They got to dancing, laughter bubbling between them as she playfully teased him about his abysmal dancing skills.
“You just want me to be publicly humiliated huh?” He grumbled, a mock pout on his face.
Just then, the song changed to a slow ballad. They froze, exchanging uncertain glances. It was only couples around them now, slowly moving to the romantic song playing.
“What now?” Kylian asked, his voice low.
She stepped closer, wordlessly wrapping her hands around his neck. Her breath hitched when she felt his hands land on her hips. They swayed to the song, shifting their eyes away from each other whenever their eye contact got too intense. His fingertips on her hips felt like they weighed tons. She wondered if he wanted to kiss her; she knew she’d let him if he tried. She’d fantasized about it more times than she could count.
Suddenly, she bumped into someone’s back. They’d been so focused on each other they’d completely lost track of their surroundings, it seemed. She turned around, ready to apologize, but froze when she saw who it was.
“Lucas?” She said incredulously.
He had a different haircut than the last time she saw him, but it was definitely him.
Kylian's grip on her tightened slightly. “You’ve got to be kidding me” He muttered under his breath.
Lucas’ eyes lit up in recognition. “Y/N, wow. How are you?”
“I’m good” She said, forcing a smile.“ Crazy running into you here”
He smiled a fake smile, pointing to his dance partner, who she hadn’t noticed until then. “My girlfriend is co-workers with the bride”
She greeted his girlfriend, who was nice enough.
“So you two finally got together, huh?” Lucas said. Y/N could tell he’d had a little bit too much to drink by the way he was swaying on his feet. He leaned closer to Kylian, making it known the next part was just for him. “Better have her on a tight leash, or she’ll start emotionally cheating on you”
Kylian recoiled at his words. “That’s not a bigger red flag than breaking up with a person over the phone, or thinking of women as animals you put a leash on” He gave a pointed look to Lucas’ partner. “He’s in the habit of doing that, by the way”
Poor girl looked like she wanted to disappear.
Y/N felt disgusted. “Can we not do this here?” she said to Lucas. “It’s a wedding.”
Lucas shrugged, unfazed. “Just looking out for the guy. He should know what he’s getting into.”
Kylian stepped closer, a protective stance forming. “She can speak for herself, Lucas. And right now, she’s not interested in your opinion.”
Y/N suddenly noticed that some of the wedding guests had their eyes on them, clearly having noticed Kylian on the dance floor. They had their phones out, no doubt ready to send social media ablaze with pictures of Kylian and a ‘mystery woman’. Without thinking, she stepped away from Kylian and his hands fell away from her hips.
He gave her a hurt look, confusion etched on his face. “Y/N…”
“There you go!” Lucas laughed. “She doesn’t even want you to touch her”
Kylian gave Lucas the dirtiest look she’d ever seen him give to someone. “Fuck you”
He turned on his heel and strode away without waiting for a response, his bodyguard trailing closely behind him adding a dramatic effect.
She made to follow him, but he disappeared into the crowd quickly. She turned to Lucas angrily.
“You’re disgusting, you know”
He opened his mouth to say something, but she stormed off.
She found him taking pictures with a group of people, dimples and charisma on full display. Someone even pulled out a jersey—though she couldn’t quite fathom why someone would bring that to a wedding. Still, he signed it with a gracious smile, effortlessly charming everyone around him.
“Kylian” She said as she stepped closer. “Can we talk?”
“Sure” He said, his smile fading slightly as he excused himself from the group.
“Look, I’m really sorry” She said. “It’s not that I don't want to be seen with you or anything. It’s just –”
“No, it’s fine” He said unconvincingly.
“It’s not fine” She said earnestly. “That was really inconsiderate of me. Especially since you were standing up to that asshole for me. Thank you for that, by the way”
He shrugged. “That’s what he deserved”
My sweet Kylian, she thought.
She enveloped him in a hug, taking in the smell of his cologne. He hugged her back, albeit somewhat hesitantly. She could tell something was still bothering him.
“Kylian, are you okay?” She asked, pulling away. “You’ve seemed off for a while now”
“I’m okay” He said, looking at the ground. “Just a bit stressed is all”
She looked at him empathetically. “Tell me”
“Well, for starters, I shouldn’t be in public right now”
She frowned, feeling guilty. “I know, it’s a lot–”
“No, it’s not just that. That I can prepare myself for.” He said. “It’s because there’s a video announcing my departure from PSG that’s going to be released–” He paused to look at his watch. “-- In about 20 minutes, so…”
She stared incredulously. “What?”
“I said there’s a video–”
“You’re leaving PSG?” She said in a hushed yet raised tone.
“Yes” He affirmed.
“And it’s going to be announced in 20 minutes?”
“Yes” He repeated.
“And you’re in a packed wedding full of proud Parisians” She stated the obvious. “One week after crashing out of the Champions League”
He nodded, then yelped when she smacked his arm.
“Kylian, why the hell did you come?”
“Because I wanted to make you happy” He said simply, rubbing his arm.
She didn’t know whether to smack him again or kiss his beautiful lips. She decided on neither.
“Let’s get out of here then” She said, already dragging him to the exit. “Before the video is released and all hell breaks loose”
“But we haven’t even talked to Julien!”
“You’ll send him an expensive gift” She said, sounding determined.
He chuckled, letting her lead the way.
They were in his car, his driver speeding away from the wedding venue. She watched him look out the window, the city lights casting a yellow glow over his skin. He looked less stressed, but she still thought there was something going on with him.
“So, where are you going?”
“Hmm?” He pulled his eyes away from the window, seemingly jolted out of his thoughts.
“Where are you going to play next?” She asked.
“Take a guess”
“Uh, let’s see, Leeds United?” She teased.
He rolled his eyes. “You know where”
She squealed, launching herself across the backseat to give him yet another hug. “Real Madrid? Oh my god! Congratulations, Ky”
“Thanks” He giggled, hugging her back tightly. “I’m really excited”
“You should be! This is your childhood dream” She pulled back to look at him, her eyes wide with excitement. “Remember that winter you abandoned me to go visit them?”
“Well you’re getting back at me for that now” He said with a sad smile.
“Hm?”
“You’re moving back here” He clarified. “While I’m going there. You’re the one doing the abandoning this time”
“Oh” She said, understanding. “About that, I, uh–I’m not moving anymore”
He froze. “What?”
“ I mean, I was going to, but… things changed. I got a promotion at my job, and the pay raise means I actually get more than what I’d earn at the new job here, so I told them I’m not gonna go for it”
He lets out a strange laugh. It’s near hysterical, but it stops as abruptly as it starts. “So you’re not moving back? You’re staying in Madrid?”
“Yes” She said slowly. “I’m staying in Madrid”
“Cool” He fidgets in his seat, his fingers tapping lightly against the armrest “Great”
He looked out the window again, then turned back to her, his face breaking into a huge grin.
“What?” She giggled. “Why are you looking at me like that?”
“I’m just really happy you’re staying”
“Why?” She knew why, she just wanted to hear him say it.
“I wanted better for Luna” He exhaled loudly, as if this was a concerning issue he’d thought long and hard about. “ I hear the cat food here sucks”
She burst out laughing. She didn’t know what, but she could tell something just shifted between them.
“You know, I haven’t been back in a while” He said. “To Bondy”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah” He said thoughtfully. “You just reminded me, when you mentioned that time I went to visit Madrid”
“Why don’t we stop by?” She said, her eyes lighting up.
He paused for a moment, contemplating.
“I don’t have anywhere else to be. Let’s do it” He said finally.
He told his driver, and they went on their way. They sat in silence for most of the drive to the suburbs, both lost in their own thoughts.
“Oh!” Kylian’s eyes lit up suddenly. He pulled something from the console. “I forgot to give you this”
“What is it?”
“Belated graduation gift” He said as he handed her a small gift bag. She’d graduated from her masters program a couple weeks ago.
She beamed, pulling out a jewelry box from the bag. “You didn’t have to” She cooed.
“Liar”
“You’re right, I love gifts” She grinned.
Her eyes widened when she revealed the pair of earrings. “ Kylian, wow”
She looked at him in disbelief as she held up the jewelry delicately. “They’re so beautiful”
“I got them from Cameroon, when I visited last year” He explained.
There was a card nestled amongst the wrapping of the earrings, small enough that she almost missed it.
“Oh, there’s a card” She said as she picked it up.
Kylian’s eyes widened, reaching out to take it from her hand. “Wait, no—”
She leaned away from him to avoid his grasp, her smile almost fading as she read what was written:
“Y/N,
I don’t know if you’ll ever see this, but right now I’m in Cameroon, and I’m heartbroken.
Maman thinks I should call you. Tchaga and all the others think I’m annoying because all I do is sulk.
We visited a traditional market today. I saw these earrings, and I thought of you immediately. They’re made by female artisans, which I think you’ll like.
I love you, I think it’s ruining my life.
–K”
She looked up, the last sentence reverberating in her head, almost drowned out by the pounding of her heart.
She didn’t know what to say, just looked at Kylian, who was avoiding her gaze.
“I forgot that was there” He said quietly.
The car came to a halt just then, and Kylian’s driver let them know that they’d arrived at their destination.
They found themselves at the park they frequented as children, where they spent countless afternoons and evenings. They took a seat on a bench, facing a gaggle of children playing football. The park was otherwise empty save for a couple other wanderers, which was unusual for a summer’s evening. Y/N wasn’t complaining though; fewer people meant less chances of Kylian being spotted.
They seemed out of place in their formal clothes; her in her silk maxi dress, and him in his suit. She stole glances of his side profile as they watched the kids’ game, marveling at his beauty: his big brown eyes, the strong nose he’d inherited from his mother, and those pink, pouty lips. More than 10 years of knowing him and yet he still managed to take her breath away.
He turned to her suddenly. “What’s on your mind?”
She decided to be honest. “I was thinking about how pretty you are”
“Pretty?” He chuckled.
“Yeah. Pretty”
“Don’t think anyone’s used that word to describe me before” He said.
“Well I have” She said. “Many times before – in my head”
“Me too,” He admitted, his gaze warm. “I’ve called you pretty. Also many times —in my head.”
She grinned at him. It was impossible not to. “Speaking of pretty, I want to try those earrings!”
She pulled them from their box, quickly removing the ones she was already wearing and carefully putting on the new pair. Kylian took an exaggerated double take, his eyes widening. “Qué hermosa!”
She snorted. “ Working on your Spanish, I see”
“I’m already fluent, cherie” He winked at her as he pulled out his phone and quickly snapped a picture of her.
A loud cheer erupted from the kids; someone had just scored a goal. Y/N and Kylian briefly turned their attention back to the game, smiling at the infectious joy of the kids as they rushed to one another for a group hug. The celebrations gradually faded, and the children returned to their positions to continue the game.
She swallowed hard. “Did you mean that?”
“Mean what?” Kylian dragged his eyes away from the game. It didn’t matter if it was being played by a bunch of 10 year olds, football was still his favorite thing. It was quite endearing, actually.
“What you wrote on the card” She said quietly.
“Yes” He met her eyes. “I do”
“What did you mean– what do you mean when you said it’s ruining your life?” She asked.
He took a deep breath before answering. He had a pained look on his face. “It’s just – I don’t know, it feels like torture sometimes, not having you. First it was the whole time you were with Lucas when I was pining after you, and then it felt like I had you, but you ran away. Let me tell you, those couple months after that when we weren’t speaking were the worst of my life.” He took a shaky breath. “And whatever we are now, just friends, it’s never going to be enough”
“Kylian..”
“And I was speaking to Papa” He continued, ignoring her. He scooted closer to her, eyes so intense. “He told me to take a leap of faith. To cut out all the bullshit and tell you I love you. So here I am, I guess. I want you to tell me what you truly want. Not what you think you should want, or what other people want for you. What you really, really want. Because if it’s me? I’m all in, Y/N”
He took her hand, gently opening up her palm. “Because you’ve had my heart here” He traced his index finger over her palm. “Ever since I met you at my birthday party all those years ago. It’s always been you for me. There will never be anyone else”
Y/N didn’t respond immediately, lifting his hand that was on hers to her lips and kissing his trembling fingers. “Just so you know, I’ve wanted you as long as I’ve known you. And you’re right, maybe all of the excuses I was telling you and myself were lies. Because I was scared. I thought if we did this and it didn’t work out, I’d end up losing you forever. I didn’t want that, Ky. But how would we know if we don’t try? We have to try, right?” She paused. “I really want to try”
Kylian let out a relieved laugh at her words. They were so close to each other, their faces mere inches apart. He cupped her face with his hands, caressing her cheeks in a way only he could. She closed her eyes, basking in his touch. She felt gentle kisses on each of her eyelids.
“Yes” She heard him murmur. “I want to try”
They closed what little distance was between their lips, kissing passionately. All the tension, all the unspoken feelings that had been brewing for ages seemed to dissolve in that moment. It felt like releasing air after holding her breath for a long time. It felt like relief.
“Wait, there’s someone taking pictures” Kylian muttered as he pulled away.
“I don’t care” She said, chasing his lips with hers.
To her annoyance, he pulled away again. “But you–”
“I said I don’t care” She mumbled, kissing him again. She felt him smile against her lips.
They left the park after the game ended, satisfied and at peace. Hands intertwined, lips swollen from kissing. She thought about the kids that they used to be, the ones who used to run to the very same park everyday after school. Oh how they’ve grown, how they’ve changed.
Inside the car, she turned to him, her heart steadying after a long while of drumming loudly. “So, what now?”
His gaze was unwavering. “ No more running away.”
"No more running away" She repeated softly, leaning her head against his shoulder and closing her eyes.
A/N: Aaand thats it folks. hope you like this last part <3 i'm working on an epilogue though so stay tuned for that. as always lmk what you think in the comments or in my inbox. thank you for reading!
tags: @kyliansonlygf @ynkfreeastheocean @scottishthistle @user6373738 @lucysantos6-blog @tuliptopiasstuff @kennasutopia @cinderellawithashoe @akiracim @kymb-10 @germanapples @ariesmai @edgyficuselastica
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Ugly crying & the marauders generation - a pseudo-scientific approach (my marauders crying PhD abstract)
Abstract
In recent days, there have been a variety of claims as to who the prettiest and ugliest crier in the marauders generation could be. This paper aims to address the recent surge in opinions on the matter, and categorize different approaches as well as add a new approach to the scientific examination of ugliness/prettiness when it comes to crying. I hope to provide readers with an overview of the current state of research and encourage all marauders scholars to add their own and I intend to make a contribution to the discourse by committing to the bit and writing a pseudo-academic paper about it instead of actually working on my thesis.
Introduction
In the following paper, the discourse about 5 marauders era characters will be examined in regards to their various levels of perceived ugliness whilst crying. Scholars who may ask why Peter [Pettigrew] is not included in this analysis are advised to refer to acclaimed marauders ugly crying scholar @lynxindisguise's (2023) original poll on the popular blogging website "tumblr.com" which did not include Peter, but rather two non-marauders characters named Lily and Regulus. This paper will follow that approach, since Peter is the nastiest skank bitch I have ever met, I do not trust him and he is a fugly slut. The characters included in this approach are as follows: James Potter, Lily Evans, Sirius Black, Remus Lupin and Regulus Black.
Following the scientific criteria for ugly crying, as stated by lynxindisguise et. al (2023), the question of the ugliest crier can be answered by observing the crying person and assessing their ugly-levels on the following parameters: (1) unbecoming facial expressions, (2) facial swelling/blotching, (3) unsettling noises, (4) snot factor, (5) tear volume, (6) general loss of dignity, (7) glistening eyes/lashes, (8) Victorian heroine factor, (9) elegant tear-wiping, (10) post-cry glow (ibid).
Criteria (1)-(6) can be categorized as the ugly crying parameters whereas (7)-(10) are pretty crying parameters, creating a false binary between ugly and pretty crying, which may be problematised and addressed in another the paper. In contrast to lynxindisguise’s original 10 criteria to measure the aesthetics of crying, this paper proposes to add (11) explosiveness of cry as another ugly crying parameter, in order to get a more clear assessment of where on the ugly-pretty crying scale a character falls.
The ugly crying parameters
(1) Unbecoming facial expressions
James Potter is mentioned in this category by several marauders scholars: @jaylienpotter talks about his red face and ugly sobbing, @artbyace mentions his “scrunched up cry face” and @sectoren claimes “james (…) is that one handsome guy that when the waterworks get going becomes like. Cartoonishly ugly”, raising the question of upkeeping toxic masculinity in order to avoid having to witness more of James Potter’s crying “mug”.
Though James Potter features heavily in this category, another character who is also mentioned just as often is Remus Lupin: @kaaaaaaarf, @appreciatedmoron and @http-starboy all emphasise that Remus Lupin is the one with a red and blotchy face.
(2) facial swelling/blotching
While there is a definitive overlap between the categories of facial swelling/blotching, unbecoming facial expressions and snot factor, Sirius’ and Regulus’ victorian heroine complexions, which give them an advantage in the homonymous category, may be to their disadvantage in the “blotching” category. This will require further research by other scholars.
(3) unsettling noises
James Potter is mentioned in this category by Jaylienpotter (2023), claiming he not only hiccups when crying but also that “his cries are one of the most heartbreaking things you’ll ever hear” and similarly, artbyace states that “James loves and feels so loudly”, whereas “Sirius is silent”, both sentiments are reminiscent of znelda’s (2023) statements that James “was allowed to feel his emotions freely in a loving household” and “Sirius (…) [is] used to hide [his] feelings and [has] become stoic”.
With several other scholars, among them also @jamesunderwater (2023) raising the point that James may be the ugliest crier due to him being “the only one well adjusted enough to have access to his feelings” this raises the question of possibly introducing another category, maybe of emotional awareness/stability to be able to measure this parameter more efficiently, though emotional vulnerability may also just be a part of the unsettling noises parameter, suggesting that there is a correlation between noisiness and the existing environment being welcoming to and accepting of various expressions of emotions.
(4) snot factor
The most popular winner in the snot factor category seems to be Remus Lupin, with several scholars agreeing that his sobs are the dampest and snottiest out of all the candidates. kaaaaaaarf (2023) writes “he turnes all red and blochty and snot drips out of his nose (…) he cant (sic) not cry with his mouth open as well so there is a lot of spit”, and appreciatedmoron (2023) agrees with kaaaaaaarf on this.
It only seems right to me to include spit in the snot category as well, seeing as they’re both crying-related bodily fluids that add to the ugly-cry factor. http-starboy (2023) also mentions snot in regards to Remus Lupin, which compared to both their comments in (1) opens up the question of how unbecoming facial expressions, more particularly redness of the face and snot factor may be related, as several authors seem to write about both specifically in relation to each other. Whether this is just pure coincidence or not would need further research, for which we currently do not have enough funding. This is only one of the many research gaps in the relatively new field of marauder’s ugly crying studies, which cannot fully be addressed in this paper.
James Potter is also mentioned in the snot category, namely by the marauders scholar artbyace (2023).
(5) tear volume
Artbyace (2023) claims James Potter is “full on bawling” which can only be assumed to refer to tear volume, but the most convincing argument for tear volume comes from the acclaimed marauders scholar @fruityindividual (2023), stating that “tsunami warning tones go off in sirius’ brain anytime remus is close 2 (sic) tears” which already indicates high levels of tear volumes. The author then goes on to specify the volume by claiming that “indeed the ocean wishes rj lupin would jump in and help contribute 2 (sic) rising sea levels”, further emphasizing the volume of Remus's tears.
(6) general loss of dignity
@pastaplatypus (2023) writes about James Potter not being able to do a Melodramatic Bollywood Cry, which is perceived as inherently racist by the crier.
I would like to argue that Sirius Black also deserves to be mentioned in this category. While as of today, with less than 1 hour left to vote, 15.5% of voters agree that Sirius is the ugliest crier, the more outspoken voices all argue for different ugly criers. Due to their upbringing, I am tempted to name both Black brothers in the “loss of dignity” category and look forward to reading future contributions to this discussion.
The pretty crying parameters
(7) glistening eyes/lashes
Undoubtedly Sirius Black deserves to be mentioned in this category. I believe his dark lashes and glimmering eyes are part of what makes him the prettiest crier. Whereas Remus’s eyes also sometimes glisten or appear red, and it is usually attributed to be caused by drug consumption, which more often than not is a wrong assumption, but he happily goes along with the pretense of being a weed-smoking bad boy in order to hide his ugly crying damp tendencies.
(8) Victorian heroine factor
It almost seems superfluous to even mention Sirius (and, to a lesser degree, Regulus) Black in this category. This category was made for Sirius, as is apparent when reading lynxindisguises (2023) description of the victorian heroine factor, in response to a question by the scholar @plecotusauritus:
“the Victorian Heroine Factor is a deeply scientific assessment of the Vibes. Is this person giving tragically beautiful, windswept Victorian Heroine, sobbing gently into their hands while sprawled across a boulder or a well or a fountain of some sort? When they look up at you, do their tear-plumped lips part elegantly as a single tear slides down their cheek?”
(9) elegant tear-wiping
There hasn't been a lot of research in this area, but I would like to propose handkerchiefs with embroidered initials and family crests as another potential factor in favor of the Black brothers scoring high marks in this category as well as the Victorian heroine factor.
(10) post-cry glow
Artbyace (2023) claims “lily is always beautiful (…) even when crying”, which is echoed by znelda’s (2023) earlier claim that “Lily (…) [is] a woman and no woman is ugly when crying.”
Sirius is the other popular choice by marauders scholars for this category, with @in-flvx (2023) stating that he “handsomely handsomes while dying after 12 years of torture hell and another year in shackles”, which would mean that “a few tears would[n’t] stop him from being the hottest person in the room at all times” (ibid).
Additional parameters
I am suggesting to introduce an additional metric in order to further specify and better assess the ugly-crying levels:
(11) explosiveness of cry
@felixantares (2023) introduces the idea that Remus “is the type that very few people have been seen cry because he ignores every difficult emotion hes (sic) ever had (…) and it all explodes at once and its horrible to watch when he breaks down”, a sentiment shared by several of the other authors mentioned above in various other categories.
Further opinions & conclusions
The most popular consensus seems to be that Sirius cannot be the ugliest crier, sometimes also in direct comparison to his brother: @spindrifters (2023) answers the question of the ugliest crier with “obviously it’s regulus”, elaborating that “at least [it’s] definitely not sirius bc (sic) reg is canonically less handsome in all ways” which brings up the question if regular beauty plays into ugly crying. This is contrasted by lynxindisguises argument, that Sirius may be an ugly crier because he’s so gorgeous, and his ugly crying subverts the expectations of beauty:
“the most beautiful man alive looks hideous while crying, and his deeply awkward and perpetually damp bf (sic) is literally in his element while crying – dampness becomes him, you might say.”
This statement raises yet another question – does regular crying make the crier more or less ugly? Can an ugly crier become a pretty crier by practice or are we all born either ugly or pretty criers, condemned to this fate for life?
While this paper has given an overview of the current state of research to ugly crying/pretty crying, it has also raised many more questions. Other topics which may be addressed in future papers also include the philosophical question whether ugly crying is in the eye of the beholder and if it is possible to ugly cry without being perceived, and if it is possible to ugly cry if the person perceiving you doesn’t find it ugly. Since the research field of ugly crying is a relatively new one, we can only hope to read many more opinions on these and other topics in the future, and I look forward to reading different scholar’s approaches to these highly relevant topics.
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