#i feel like daphne kind of got pushed to the side though? she only needed the coven once and she didn't have a huge impact on the plot | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

sugar-quilled · 3 years

Text

when stars align

a/n: this is fluff wrapped in unnecessary plot. my bad.

summary: star gazing date

genre: fluff

word count: 1.8k

pronouns: she/her

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Spring came very suddenly this year. Many students had feared that there wouldn't be sunny weather to look forward to after exams ended, but the clouds parted on the last day, and there was a great hurrying to the castle grounds and enjoy a well deserved break. Quite a few students had taken to soaring around the Quidditch pitch, throwing around a Quaffle and chatting about summer plans. As you made your way out to the courtyard, absolutely determined to forget about the entirety of your Astrology exam, a very handsome owl came swooping down from a tree nearby to land on your shoulder. You quickly accepted the very small square of parchment clamped in its beak, and recognized it as Draco's eagle owl. You smiled at the bird, gave it a quick pet on the head, and turned the parchment piece around. In very tidy writing, it read:

Meet me at the courtyard? 8 pm. Send an answer back - Draco

"Date night?" a voice behind you said. You swung around to see Daphne Evergreen's eyes peering over your unoccupied shoulder and grinned.

"Seems like you know the answer to that question already, Daph."

"Sure do. Will you let me do your hair? I saw a Ravenclaw with a really beautiful half up half down kind of look and it'll really be gorgeous on you. Pity I could never pull it off."

"Don't lie to yourself," you said, swinging your bag off your shoulder, "bangs do grow out you know. And yes, absolutely." The owl readjusted its footing and tugged on your hair, as if telling you that it didn't have all day to listen to two girls talk. You walked quickly off the path, said goodbye to Daphne with the promise of meeting her in the dormitory in a few minutes, and dug around your school bag for a quill and ink. Unscrewing the bottle, you sat down on the grass and wrote back,

Answer is yes, pretty boy.

Draco's owl immediately snatched the parchment out of your hand, and took off towards the owlery.

time skip to 7:50

"Daphne you're brushing too hard," you muttered as she tugged forcefully on your hair. You two had been planning your outfit for about 4 hours now, taking a 30 minute break at 5 to shovel down perhaps the fastest dinner you had ever eaten and running right back up to the dormitory.

"I've never ever seen your hair with this many knots. Have you been crawling around some underbrush? There's a twig in here. How could you have possibly gotten a twig in your hair?"

"I don't know? Maybe it was Draco's ow- OW! Daphne, please, my head's attached to the other end of those strands! Couldn't you just use some Sleekeazy's? There should be a bottle in my drawer."

"NO! It'll ruin your natural waves!" she cried, frantic. "It's 7:52 already! You're due in 8 minutes! And we've still got earrings to choose and you didn't say which shoes yet!"

"I'll do without earrings! And I thought I said the oxfords were fine!" you answered, tears welling up in the corners of your eyes as Daphne tugged harder still.

"Hang on, just give me one second, I'm nearly there, you've just got this big lump that I've been trying to get through this past half hour."

With the hardest tug yet, Daphne undid the knot, pulling out quite a few hairs in the process, and let out a very tired cheer. You stood up straight and turned back at her.

"Okay, well you've got your top," she said, dropping the brush and moving forward to tuck the black scoop neck into your jeans, "jeans, necklace looks fine, hair looks gorgeous, and do you want to borrow my purse? It'll fit th-"

"Daphne I'm just going to the courtyard! What do I need a bloody purse for?" You half-yelled, massaging a very sore spot on the back of your head.

"You're right, you're right," Daphne said as you stepped into your oxfords, "well then off you go! It's 7:56, you've got plenty of time. Tell me all about it when you get back!"

"Yes, of course. Bye, Daphne!" You shouted, already half-way out the door.

The trip out to the courtyard seemingly took less than a minute, but in your hurried state, there was no way you counted the seconds properly. It was almost completely empty, with only two or three pairs of students still playing gobstones. You spotted Draco, and immediately felt a rosy color creep over your cheeks.

Draco was wearing a white button down and some neatly pressed black pants, an attire that looked suspiciously like his school uniform without a cloak. No complaints were had though, as he looked impossibly handsome.

A large, grayish green picnic blanket had been set down on the floor. Several puffy pillows had been layered down on top of it, alongside a very big, very fluffy blanket.

He turned around, a very expensive looking bouquet of flowers in hand, and gave you a quick smile before striding towards you, wrapping his arms around your waist, and pressing a tender kiss to your forehead.

You blushed and placed a kiss below his jawline before entwining your hand in his. He gestured towards the blanket—"after you, dear"—and the two of you sat down.

"This set up looks lovely, Draco" you said, readjusting to face him.

"I'm glad you're impressed by my effort" he replied, handing you the bouquet. It was a darling little thing of daisies, baby's breath, and lavender. Pixie dust sparkled on each flower. "I'm sure you want to know what I have planned for today?"

You leaned closer to him, and answered mockingly, "What is it dear Draco? Do tell me!"

"Star gazing."

You leaned back and and noticed a small telescope placed beside a pillow to your right. Knowing his absolute disdain for Astrology, you smiled. "Why the sudden change in interest?"

He rolled his eyes. "It's supposed to be romantic. And anyways, stars are pretty when they aren't for analyzing. Come here, the sun's about to set." He pulled you fully onto his lap, facing away from him, and wrapped his arms around your shoulders.

The sky was indeed dimming, brilliant strokes of orange turned pink, then purple, and finally gave way to an inky night sky. You had settled very comfortably, head against his chest, as his chin rested on the top of your head. The big blanket covered you both, and as you sat up, reaching towards the telescope to get a closer look at what seemed to be Scorpius, a very sharp "Malfoy!" startled the both of you. Professor McGonagall was storming towards you.

"What do you two think you're doing? It's nearly a quarter past ten and I feel the need to remind you that that is past your curfew. 5 points from Slytherin, and you best both be hurrying back to your dormitories."

Completely abandoning the picnic things and apologizing briefly to McGonagall, you two ran back towards the Slytherin common room, slowing only when you reached a familiar stone wall.

"Serpentine," you muttered to the wall, which then rumbled and shifted so that a corridor that lead to the common room appeared. As you walked down the passage, you thanked Draco for the flowers and date.

"It did get cut short, but it was very enjoyable. Thank you for planning it." You gave him a smile, a peck on the cheek, and made to turn for the girls' dormitories, but Draco grabbed your hand and was dragging you towards the boys'.

"Dray, what are you doing?" You hissed, "Goyle, Crabbe, Theo, and Blaise are probably sleeping by now."

Draco looked back at you with a signature smirk and continued to drag you up the stairs, leaving you with no choice but to follow.

He opened the door to his dormitory to show it completely empty.

"They've got detention today. Convenient."

"Draco! You gave them detention?"

"Well, I didn't really give them detention, I just gave them the opportunity to be given det-"

"Alright, alright," you muttered, coming to the conclusion that one nights' worth of detention for the boys couldn't be that bad. You drew open the curtains next to Draco's bed, revealing a tall, arched window and the starry night sky, framed like a painting behind the glass.

"This view is incredible," you breathed, snuggling into Draco's bed, which smelt like cologne and mint, resting your head against the headboard, and watching Draco rest himself beside you and lay his head on your chest. He turned so that you both were facing the window, and then wrapped his arms securely around you. One hand tangled in his hair, the other resting on his lower back, you turned to look at the stars with him.

Each was dotted with precision into the inky background, looking nothing like a nature of the universe and everything like a craftsman's work of art. You'd heard so many people marvel at those that shone brighter, more captivating to the eye, but to you, it was the small little specks that were worth more. They filled the gaps that the larger ones couldn't, and made the skies irregular and breathtakingly beautiful. Stars move, so that no night sky is ever the same as the previous, and maybe it was that Draco was by your side, but no combination of stars had ever presented such a beautiful picture before.

"Draco, you see those four stars? How they're in a line?"

Draco looked up sleepily at the window, muttering "pretty" before slumping down again.

"Prettier than me?" You laughed, pushing a few strands of hair off his forehead.

"Nothing's prettier than you, baby, you know that." He muttered drowsily, rolling onto his back so that he could look straight up at you.

You leaned over and brushed the tip of your nose against his. He hummed softly in response and wrapped two arms around your neck, bringing you into a kiss.

"I love you," you whispered after breaking away, shifting yourself out from under Draco so that you two were now eye to eye.

He pulled you onto his chest. "I love you too baby. And I'll get you another bouquet tomorrow since todays' is probably wilting as we speak."

You giggled softly, and with the promise of, you both promptly fell asleep.

pov switch

When Goyle, Crabbe, Theo, and Blaise entered their dormitory after two hours worth of scrubbing the floor, they found Draco entwined with a certain girl, her hand in his hair, his wrapping her close and snug against his chest. The curtains next to Draco's bed were still drawn open, so that the uncountable stars winked down at the couple. The boys knew better than to wake them up, so Goyle drew the drapes around the four poster closed, and they headed off to bed.

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ambrosiaaddiction · 4 years

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Not Meant To Be

Word Count: 2,107

Pairing(s): Anthony Bridgerton x reader, Simon Basset x reader

Summary: The Bridgerton family and the Duke have been invited to a picnic that was planned by yours truly. Tensions begin to grow, and things don’t go quite as you hoped they would.

TW: none

Part 2/6

⋘ ──── ∗ ⋅◈⋅ ∗ ──── ⋙

Today’s weather of sunshine and blue skies called for a picnic. I gave clear instructions to Cook that he should prepare a delicious meal and treats, including Simon’s favorite of gooseberry pie. I would never forget something so important about him because it always came in handy.

I then go to find our butler, Charles, and say, “Please send invitations to the Bridgertons and the Duke of Hastings, Charles. There will be a picnic at the park, and do tell them that it will be late at 1pm.” He bows in response, and repeated my words before he left to complete his tasks.

With a nod of satisfaction, I left the main floor then up the stairwell to change my attire. What I was currently wearing fell short of today’s planned event, and I needed to win Simon back. Once inside my bedroom, I closed the door and quickly strode to the wardrobe to see my options.

My thoughts roamed to the man who promised that we would spend the rest of our lives together, which made my blood boil with rage. Men these days were either too dense or too arrogant or had little backbone. Simon was a mixture of having a huge ego and vulnerable when he opens up to the people that know his true personality.

None of this was my fault whatsoever. I left for only a mere three months to study abroad in France, then I return to the ‘wonderful’ news of his engagement to a girl named Daphne Bridgerton. A trip to London hadn’t been something I expected for myself, but I came to the city for him and no other reason.

In truth, Simon technically was still my fiancé, although I knew there was an explanation for everything that took place while I was absent. As a matter of fact, he brushed off the situation like it was a speck of dust that ruined his perfect image to the desperate mamas and equally egotistical lords.

“Good heavens, I’m going to get wrinkles if I keep thinking about the “what-ifs” and not do anything to change them.” I huff in exasperation at my own foolishness, a bit disappointed in myself for having such thoughts when the damage had yet to be done.

After endless decision-making, I chose to wear a yellow dress with a simple pink floral design from the sleeves to the hem of its skirt, and I twirl in front of the mirror with a bright smile. It wasn’t a ball gown, but this would surely make Simon realize that he wants me more than anyone in all of Grovensor Square. It just had to.

I had to admit, the dress itself was too revealing for a lady of my status. Well, at least it would be just myself, Simon, and the Bridgertons alone for a picnic. A reminder to cover my legs repeated itself over and over in my mind, yet I had a feeling that I would catch the attention of everyone’s eyes anyway.

The clock rang the second its big small hand reached 12pm, which meant there was an hour left for preparations and riding to the park. “Marianne! Please call for the carriage, and tell chef to hurry!” I shouted into the air, and I heard Marianne reply from down the hall. Perhaps I was rushing for punctuality-sake, but a host or hostess must never arrive later than their guests.

It was a good thing that mama had long left for tea at Lady Farland’s estate, and papa was probably gambling at the gentlemen’s club again. I certainly wouldn’t be surprised if he came home with news that he either won lost of money or lost a majority of what he gambled. No one could tell me that the picnic was meant to open Simon’s eyes and see just me in them rather than that so-called “flawless” Bridgerton girl.

Nonetheless, I had to get going before they gossiped of my tardiness if I wasn’t already at the location. Time seemed to blur from when I scurried down the stairs to gather everything I needed to when I got into the carriage and made it safely to the park. The next thing I knew, I was trying my best not to laugh at a discreetly explicit joke Benedict had shared amongst ourselves.

Anthony looked like he was going to strangle his brother or maybe he was going to give him a pat on the shoulder? I couldn’t tell because I was too preoccupied with devouring my favorite sandwich while I brushed my shoulder against Simon’s. Of course this got his attention, and he whispered into my ear, “Now is not the time nor place to play, y/n. Behave yourself.”

His warning provoked something inside of me, but there were too many people who would witness the indecency behind my innocent act. “My apologies, your Grace. I’ll be a good girl for you.” I whispered in reply, then continued to enjoy my delicious sandwich as though I did nothing wrong in the first place.

I knew what I was doing to him, and he liked it. He knew what would happen if I went further, and I was fanning the flames with fervor. “Is Daphne aware of our relationship? Sorry, I meant, what it was supposed to become? You know, such as getting married? Living together and in the country?”

Simon’s jaw clenched just like when he used to have me underneath him, calling his name and coming undone by his touch as I squeezed tighter around him. Those nights were by far the best I had ever experienced, and he treated me with such tenderness after we were spent.

“Don’t you remember the great times we had, love? Everything fell apart when I came to London and found you dancing with the red-headed girl in the moonlight.” I scowled under my breath, then I slowly calmed myself down before I could ruin this lovely picnic with a beautiful family and my old lover.

I needed a moment alone, so I stood up and sheepishly excused myself from the blanket before walking away. It was almost as though the night I found myself standing at the lake was repeating itself again, but this time, I knew where I was going and no tears would shed. No, this time was different than last. Instead of crying because I couldn’t control some situations, I chose to think about I would take back Simon for myself.

Seeing Simon chuckle and comment on every little thing Daphne said created small cracks on my heart. I couldn’t think of when he used to do that with me, and I close my eyes to forget all of the recently bad memories. Heavy footsteps approached from behind, but I was too distracted by the wrong Simon had done to me.

“Y/n, are you alright? You left so suddenly, and everyone is worried about you.” Anthony softly called out to me, his hand resting on my shoulder to turn me around and see the miserable state I was in. “I’ll be better, my lord. There’s no need to waste your worry on me.” I mustered a fake smile to dissipate his concern for me, but apparently he had dealt with heartbroken maidens before.

The Viscount gently pulled me into his arms, and rocked our bodies back and forth. I was speechless for I had no idea what he was doing, and yet I didn’t want him to stop. It felt pleasant to be comforted by a warm embrace that held a promise of always being there when it was most needed in times of anguish.

“You are a strong woman, y/n. You don’t need to act as though nothing can break through your walls. You’re still human, and that’s okay. Believe me, I know what it’s like to feel helpless.” He tucked a strand of hair behind my ear, and smiled when I pulled away to stare at him with wide eyes. I always knew what kind of man he was, but the side of him that I admired truly was a rare sight to behold.

What felt like an eternity of comfortable silence was interrupted by Eloise who came searching for her brother and I after he had been gone for too long. “Mama won’t stop spouting nonsense that you’ve gotten lost, brother. We had to stop her from creating a search party.” She snickered at the fresh memory, and it stopped when she realized that Anthony was hugging me unusually close to his chest.

I caught on and quickly pushed myself away, then I fixed my dress before thanking her. “Thank you for taking the responsibility, Eloise. You’ve found us alright, and I believe we best return to your family.” Anthony cleared his throat, a big embarrassed that the particular sister of his had seen something she would never let go.

“Yes, Miss Denbow is right. Let’s return before mother actually gathers a search party for three people.” He leads the way, and I smile awkwardly at Eloise as I walk past her. I then let out a breath I didn’t know I had been holding in since she found Anthony and I, but I hoped that she wouldn’t mention it when we got back to the picnic.

Once there, Lady Bridgerton literally shed tears of joy as soon as she saw my face and brought me into a hug. What was with the Bridgertons and hugging? I could see Simon lean over to Anthony, his mouth forming the words, “Thank you for bringing her back safely.” Anthony nodded in reply, then sat down in between Colin and Benedict before he grabbed his glass of wine to take quite a long sip.

Well, it was back to where I started. I didn’t want to ask questions and make matters worse, but I knew that the current engagement wasn’t going to last for long. According to Lady Whistledown, Queen Charlotte was not convinced of the proclaimed love that everyone said Simon and Daphne shared.

I had to say it. Otherwise, I would lose the love of my life to a woman who gained Her Majesty’s favor, and I would be lonely until the day I die. “The Duke and I were once lovers, but now he’s going to marry Miss Bridgerton.” Complete and utter silence. I take in a deep breath before I continue.

“I had traveled to France for three months, and the Duke asked me to come see him here, in London. I truly thought that he was going to marry me, but I was proven wrong and a fool. He’s pretending as though we didn’t have a beautiful relationship before he chose to help her and she him.”

Lady Bridgerton was the first to break, and she began to stumble over her words while overcoming the insurmountable shock that I gave to everyone. Eloise tried what she could to stop herself from laughing, Benedict smacked her arm while he was struggling to do the same.

Colin couldn’t find the right words, and Anthony spat out his wine. Except for the two youngest children who were playing in a flower field, we adults all sat together with no help to describe what our mixed emotions were. “What is the matter with you, y/n? Did you even think this through before you babbled on about the past? If I had known that you were so childish, I would’ve left you a long time ago.”

Simon glared cold daggers in my direction, and I felt like I couldn’t breathe. The man who I loved was now a stranger with a much better woman than I, so there was nothing I could do now to take him back. “You’re right, Simon. I’m such a child, and I don’t know any better than to tell the truth when living a lie is all the more tempting.”

I gave my deepest apologies to Lady Bridgerton, promising her that I would make up for my demeanor with tea and a visit to the spa one day. I then said my farewells to the Bridgertons, but I didn’t spare the slightest of glances to Simon who looked like he was going to let out a fury of anger.

It served him right for playing with my heart, and if he was so play a part not meant for him that would end in heartbreak, then so be it. I knew someone who could help me make him regret losing me, and they were a professional when it came to such lengths.

Just you wait, Simon Basset. Just you wait.

#bridgerton #simon basset #bridgerton imagine #duke of hastings #reader x simon basset

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the-cult-of-russo · 3 years

Text

Push and Pull (Part 15)

Pairing: Matt Murdock x OC

Warnings: cursing, smut

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It was bright and early when Daphne woke up the next morning. She had things to do and no time to waste. The sun was shining through her window, the weather finally starting to get warmer. She put on some leggings with a tank top and then her zip up hoodie over it. She groaned at her hair in the mirror as she dragged her brush through the unruly locks. So many times she considered cutting it so it wasn't so much work, but she knew she'd regret it. Instead, she settled on tossing it up into a high pony and ignoring it. Her trusty backpack was slung around her shoulder and she hopped around as she put her vans on before leaving the apartment.

She squinted slightly at the light once she got out of the building but it didn't deter her. First stop. Coffee. One large latte to go later, she was on her way to see Brett to find out what news he might have. She tossed her now empty cup in the trash can beside the station before she jogged up the steps and inside. She never checked in with the desk, she was a ghost when she was here. That's how it worked. It wasn't such a secret anymore than she was on Brett's payroll which left her to come and go as she pleased, but officially, she was never there. When she walked into the office area, Brett was sitting at his desk just like the day before. He looked like he hadn't even gone home.

"You look like shit," she mused teasingly, putting down the other coffee she'd gotten for him. His eyes lit up at the sight of it and he gave her a tired smile.

"You're an angel," he muttered with a long pull from his drink as she sat down. The coffee at the precinct was the worst and never really did its job.

"Any news yet?" She tried to hide the impatience in her voice but she wasn't sure she succeeded.

"Actually, we do have something. Not quite sure the full details yet though," he murmured. She looked at him expectantly.

"The people we rescued, their fingertips were burnt right off just like the last time. We can't identify most of 'em until they're fully coherent. But they're doing alright. I just can't believe the Chinese were at it again right under our goddamn noses," he fumed, taking another slurp of his coffee.

"I'm not surprised. They probably picked it back up when the heat turned off them again," she sighed. She hoped that once the victims were in a better state they'd be able to get names from them. Some of them might have family that were looking for them.

"Anything from the device?" She asked hopefully

"Yeah, actually. The Chinese requested the meet. They were pretty vague about a lot of shit but they kept saying something about the Italians having a weapon and they wanted to use it. Seemed to be brokering a deal about it. I got no idea what the hell this weapon is, but the Chinese really fucking want it and the Italians already have it. And that makes me nervous as shit," he frowned.

It made her nervous too. What did the Italians have that the Chinese couldn't get for themselves? And why did they want it?

"Well that's unsettling," she huffed with a shake of her head.

"Tell me about it. Good news though, that device you planted must be well hidden. It’s still live and active," he flashed her a grin and she smiled herself as she gave herself a mental pat on the back.

"Do you think it'll be useful?" She inquired.

"No telling yet. I mean mostly it'll be the kitchen staff but it might pick up something. Any other meets we might not be aware of or anyone saying something. Even something small can lead to something big, right?" He smirked, practically quoting her. It made her chuckle.

"At least that's something. If we can figure out what weapon the Italians have we can figure out how bad this all is," she said softly. It made her nervous and she had a feeling things would get messy soon in Hell's Kitchen.

"Here's hoping. There ain't much for you to do with the case right now but I'll let you know when we get any more information. It's just a waiting game now," he replied.

"Ah, my favourite," she smirked sarcastically, causing him to snort. She wasn't known for having patience. She liked answers and she liked them immediately. But in this case, playing the long game would be the only option to getting to the bottom of it all.

She bid her goodbyes to him not long after that before making her way back out into the sunshine. Now it was her next pit stop. A short cab ride later and she was at a very fancy luxurious home. It was more like a mansion and was three stories high. It looked like it was right out of a movie with one of those grand entrances and a water feature out front. She was well out of place as dressed down as she was but she knocked on the door anyway. She wasn't even surprised when a butler answered the door.

"Can I help you, miss?" The older man asked softly. His black and white uniform was crisp and clean and it put her own rumpled clothes to shame.

"I'm here to see Mrs Grimes. I'm Daphne Weaver," she replied awkwardly.

"One moment please," he shut the door and she quirked her brow at how formal all this was. This better pay well. Suddenly the door opened again and he smiled at her.

"This way please. She's been hoping you'd come," he seemed a little friendlier now. Maybe it was because his boss wanted her here so he wasn't all suspicious of what she wanted. Either way, she followed him inside. He led her up the huge ass staircase, the kind that split off at the middle. Everything looked like it cost a million dollars, from the art to all the rare looking things in cabinets. She didn't even feel worthy enough to touch the banister so she kept her hands in her hoodie pocket.

The carpet was lush and a deep purple colour and she found her eyes wandering the hallway they walked down. How many rooms does someone need? No wonder she had staff, upkeep on this place would be a ball ache. They reached a room far down the left and he knocked on the heavy looking mahogany door.

"Enter," a female voice rang out. It was slightly accented but she couldn't place it. Jeeves opened the door and gestured for her to go inside. She glanced around the room curiously as she walked in. It was a living area with a grand fire. Heavy bookcases lined the walls of the room and were filled with what looked to be antique books that Daphne found herself wanting to look at. There was a giant fur rug in front of the fireplace with velvet looking sofas set in front of it.

That's where Mrs Grimes was sitting, looking perfectly in place for where she was. She was wearing a long black dress, heels bigger than anything Daphne could ever walk in. Her greying blonde hair was neatly coiffed and pinned up and she was dripping in diamonds. Jesus.

"Pleasure to meet you Ms Weaver, please sit," she smiled warmly at her, gesturing to the other sofa. Daphne was half worried her vans would dirty the goddamn carpet as she padded over and plonked down. Despite it being completely over the top and not really her taste, she did appreciate however how clean and neat everything was kept. A place like this could easily fall into being cluttered and dusty but it was pristine. She supposed the staff were to thank for that. Mrs Grimes' nails were so long she doubted she could do much cleaning herself. Daphne wasn't sure how she didn't accidentally gauge her own eyes out.

"Would you like something to drink?" She asked politely. Jeeves was still hovering near the door no doubt waiting for his command. She was tempted to say yes to see what kind of beverages the other side drank, but she didn't want to stay long.

"Uh… no thank you. I'm fine," she replied with an awkward smile.

"Very well. Hammond, leave us," she dismissed the man at the door. He gave a dramatic nod before he left and shut the door behind him. She idly wondered if he ever wanted to punch his bosses when they commanded him to do things like that. She'd never be able to hold a job like that down.

"I'm glad you came, I was worried you wouldn't," the older woman started, elegantly crossing one leg over the other.

"A job's a job," Daphne snorted lightly, her hands still stuffed in her pockets lest she touch something and ruin it. Mrs Grimes gave her a tense smile, looking like it was difficult to be polite. Maybe she wasn't used to the lower class being in her home.

"Indeed it is. Will you take the case?" She asked hopefully.

"Yeah, I'll be able to do it. As I tell all my clients, I don't give out time frames. I never know how long it'll take me to find what I need or what roadblocks might come up. I don't appreciate impatience and it doesn't make me work any faster," she said firmly. Establishing boundaries was the first thing she liked to do. It was important. Especially with the wealthy ones as in her experience they tended to be the impatient ones with their self importance.

"Very well. I accept your terms. And please, whatever you find, do tell me," she implored. Daphne nodded, she always did no matter how shitty the information she'd gained was. Mrs Grimes stood, walking somehow with grace and ease in those monster heels as she walked over to a cupboard near the wall. She opened a drawer and came back with some paper.

"Me and my husband used to be very much in love. And I'm afraid now that I'm older he's decided to find other companions. Call me paranoid but I'm sure you understand when to look into a gut feeling," she mused as she walked back over and sat down. Daphne nodded again. Her gut was rarely wrong and it was telling her that Mrs Grimes was right.

"I want confirmation. I want to know who with and how deep it runs. If it's just physical or something more. I want to prepare myself should he try to divorce me and take what I have. I need proof," she stated seriously. Daphne's eyes subconsciously swept across the room and all the fancy things in it.

"I know what you're thinking. And I was the one with money, not him. He makes a decent amount with his job but I was born with money. This house was passed through my family for generations. Everything in it I bought. But over the years I've had my eyes opened to how greedy my husband can be. I cannot trust if we separate that he won't try to take everything from me," she sounded bitter and Daphne wasn't surprised. They definitely sounded like they had issues and once trust was gone in a relationship, everything else had no foundation to stand on. It wouldn't last. She commended the woman for thinking ahead to make sure she was protected if it came down to it. This kind of bullshit was why relationships were too much work.

"I'll find out what I can. I'll be honest, some of my methods aren't quite… legal. But it gets the job done," Daphne muttered. Things like breaking and entering were definitely illegal and then there was hacking if she ever needed to do it, which in this case might prove useful.

"Good," Mrs Grimes smirked at her. She found herself smirking back at her. The rich typically didn't care too much about how she got the information, just that she got it. Mrs Grimes reached down to her Gucci purse, setting it on her lap and she grabbed something out of it. It was her wallet and Daphne was curious what her offer would be. She hadn't spoken to her about price points yet and when it came to her wealthier clients she made a point of waiting to see what their offer would be first. Usually she’d haggle a little just because she could. They'd have the money and they wanted the information.

She watched with a keen eye as Mrs Grimes took a chunk of money out and handed it to her. A quick count told her it was $1000 and it took effort for her eyes to not bulge out as she kept a cool calm facade.

"That's the deposit. You'll get the rest when the work is complete. Another $1000. I may give you more depending on just how much you find out," she drawled. So she wouldn't need to haggle then, this price was insane and way more than what the job would entail, but like fuck she would tell her that. She also appreciated the incentive. She liked a challenge, something to work towards. The more she found out then the more she'd get paid.

"Sounds good to me. I'll get started in the next few days," she replied, keeping her calm demeanour and not acting like she was thinking of what she would spend her money on once she got it all. She carefully stuffed it in her backpack before zipping it back up. She almost jumped when the older woman dinged a bell beside the table and it took all of her willpower not to roll her eyes as the butler walked in.

"Yes, Mrs Grimes?" He enquired politely.

"Please see Ms Weaver out. Have one of our drivers drop her off to wherever she needs to go," she commanded softly. Part of her wanted to protest but the other wanted to pretend she lived the fancy life, even if just for a moment.

They both stood and Mrs Grimes took her hand in one of those fancy people hand shakes that were flimsy and light.

"It was a pleasure, Ms Weaver. I hope to hear from you soon," she smiled.

"Likewise," she replied, not really knowing what to say. No matter how many well off clients she saw she always felt weird and out of place interacting with them. She followed Jeeves out the hall and down the large stairs case. He stopped when he got by the front door and picked up a phone that was attached to the wall. She stood there looking around as the man spoke in hushed tones down the receiver before hanging up and then opening the grand front door.

"Have a lovely day, Ms Weaver," he bowed politely.

"Uh… you too," she murmured as she stepped outside.

The door shut with a clang behind her and she was suddenly on her own outside. It didn't last long though as a large black car pulled up right at the entryway.

"Ms Weaver?" A man called out after rolling the window down. She nodded and walked over. She was getting sick of being called that name. The man hopped out, jogging over to the back of the car and opening the door for her. This really was fancy service. She gave him an uncomfortable smile, not used to this level of service from anyone. It felt wrong almost. But she slipped inside and settled in the ridiculously comfy car seats.

"Where to, Miss?" The man asked once he was situated behind the wheel again.

"Um… Fogwell's gym please," she murmured in response. He punched in something on the phone he was using with the GPS and then he took off. There was a reason she was dressed the way she was after all. She didn't want to think of Matt being a weird asshole the day before. As much as part of her considered not going, she really needed to train and she knew he would be there. She was too stubborn to let Matt's weird PMSing get in the way of her learning to defend herself properly.

The drive was uncomfortably silent and she clutched her backpack on her knees. She wondered what it was like to live this life full time. She was a bitch but she didn't feel right with commanding people to do shit, even if she was paying them. It just felt off to her. Before long, the car pulled up in front of the gym. She almost felt like she should pay him or something, totally not used to this kind of exchange. As she unbuckled her seat belt, the man got out and ran around to her door. He opened it and she slipped out, swinging her bag over her shoulder. She noticed the apprehensive look on his face as he looked at the rundown gym.

"Are you sure, Miss?" He asked quietly, like he was asking her to blink twice if she needed help. She almost snorted but gave him a polite smile. She guessed his boss wasn't used to being around places like this. She appreciated his sentiments all the same though.

"I'm sure," she said softly. He nodded, still looking unhappy about it but there was nothing he could do. With a nod, he was back in the car and taking off by the time she walked through the door.

She was quiet and heard loud grunting and the hits of a punching bag. As she came into view, she saw Matt beating the holy hell out of the bag. His fists were flying, grunts and pants leaving his lips with the flurry of punches. The graceful savagery was what always intrigued her about him. But then typically he'd open his mouth and ruin it. He hadn't seemed to notice her yet once again which honestly was perturbing since anyone could come in here and sneak up on him like that. She walked over to the bench, setting her backpack down with a thud. The grunts and punches stopped instantly and the only sound that echoed in the gym was Matts heavy breathing.

"Didn't think you'd show," he said carelessly.

"I wasn't sure either honestly. But I need to train, even if I do have to put up with your bitch ass," she muttered as she started wrapping her hands. He scoffed as he came over, grabbing his water bottle and drinking a large pull from it. He tossed the bottle down again as he made his way to the ring.

"Alright, come on then," he demanded.

"What? I don't get to warm up first?" She asked skeptically with a raised brow. He snorted coldly and shook his head.

"You wanna know how to defend yourself for real, there is no warming up. When you're out there in a situation like this, you don't get that luxury," he retorted. She rolled her eyes but honestly couldn't argue with sound logic.

Instead, she bit her tongue as she put on the gloves and climbed inside of the ring. Matt cracked his neck and rolled his shoulders as they squared off with one another.

"Let's go," he smirked devilishly. He lunged at her but she moved just in time, twirling around as they practically traded places. They started trading blows, although his were very clearly intended not to hurt her, and she was pleased she got some good jabs in. She didn't slow down or stop this time when he deflected or managed a light shot to her side. She just came back twice as hard. She was proud of herself. Her heart was thumping away from the adrenaline and the exertion of the sparring after a while and she leaned against the ropes as they both caught their breath.

"You did good. You're getting better," he sounded reluctant to give her the praise and she rolled her eyes a little at him.

"I want you to teach me how to get out of the hold from last time," she said firmly. His head turned to her then, his hazel eyes not quite landing directly at her as he narrowed them.

"Daphne, I don't think-" he started, only to be promptly cut off.

"It's fine. I need to learn and I'll get over it. I think I'll be fine this time," she urged. She meant it too. She still had lingering effects of her attack but she was feeling a little better recently. And after her and Matt's partially regrettable night together, she hadn't had a nightmare for the first night since it happened. She knew the sex had helped. Whenever she needed to feel better and clear her head, she would have sex. It's why her sister was so worried it would become a crux for her. Her sex with Matt had done wonders for her stress and anxiety over the whole thing so she felt like now was the perfect time to try to learn it.

He was quiet for a moment before heaving a heavy sigh. He yanked his gloves off and tossed them out of the ring and she followed suit before he changed his mind. Climbing to the floor, she lay on her back and bent her knees just like the last time. As he knelt down between her legs, it was hard not to think of the night they shared together and how similar it was.

"Ready?" He asked reluctantly. She gave him a firm nod he couldn't see but could sense and he brought his hands to her throat. Once again, he applied very little pressure but she lay perfectly still. Her heart wasn't hammering like crazy, she wasn't seeing Keiran hovering over her. She was fine. Matt stayed still as he did his head tilt thing and it took her a moment to realise he was listening to her heartbeat to check if she was okay or not. It was kind of creepy but she let it go.

He talked her through the steps of how to get out of that kind of hold. One at a time he'd tell her what to do and correct her if she got it wrong as they did a slow mo version one part at a time to ensure she knew each step. It was more complicated than the last one but after a few step by step tries she thought she had a good idea on what to do. Now it was time to get out of it for real.

"3, 2 ,1," he counted, preparing her somewhat so she didn't lose her shit like last time. This time he applied some pressure around her throat but it was still practically nothing. She felt his weight bearing down on her and she grabbed his right forearm with her left and then used her right hand to grip his left shoulder in a cross grip. Using her left foot, she pushed off his hip, pivoting her pelvis to the right so he was no longer directly above her. She hooked her right leg high up on his back, right under his armpit and she kept a firm grip on him as her left leg moved to wrap around his shoulder too, locking it onto her other. She grabbed his wrist, the one that was in her grip that was now at her mercy on her chest. She knew if she thrust her pelvis upwards sharply she would break his arm at his elbow.

It had happened so fast but she caught herself before completing the maneuver and felt pleased with herself. She let go of his arm and rolled them over so he was now under her. They were both panting and she laughed lightly, feeling good she actually did it. She was a little sweaty and she looked down at where he lay under her. His brow had a slight sheen to his and his hair was doing that thing where it went every which way. His eyes were wandering as he caught his breath with a grin. She wasn't the only one enjoying their session it seemed.

She felt his hands glide up her thighs that were around him and she'd be a liar if she said it didn't make her tingle. His unseeing eyes were burning into her, pupils blown wide. She went to move off him but he held her in place, only now she was hovering right in front of his face. One of his hands rested on the base of her neck and he pulled her down a little. She stayed still though and resisted as her lips were a breath away from his.

"We're not on the same page, remember?" She teased him, enjoying seeing him this worked up. She squeaked when her back hit the mat when he rolled them over quickly. She hadn't expected it.

"I'm over it," he smirked devilishly at her before his lips collided with hers.

She should have really stopped to think about it. To assess the validity of his words. But sex with Matt was something else and it made her feel amazing. All her stress and worries melted away last time. And although she knew going down that rabbit hole wasn't good with her past of sometimes becoming dependant on sex for her own mental well being, she couldn't really help herself. She blamed Matt for being insufferable and ridiculously attractive. The kiss was rough and demanding and she gave into him, moaning as he pushed himself against her through the thin fabric of their pants. He knelt up, tugging at his vest and lifting it over his head. Something dawned on her then.

"We're gonna do this here? What if someone walks in?" She snorted amused. She wasn’t one to shy away from sex in weird places but she didn't want some old dude walking in and getting a free show. He tossed his vest on the floor as he chuckled, jumping to his feet and climbing out the ring. She sat up, watching him curiously as he went and locked the door from the inside. She couldn't take her eyes off him as he prowled back to her though. The predatory grace he held, the way his sculpted body moved. In her needy and horny haze she found herself impatient for him to return and she felt like he was taking his time to tease her if his smirk was anything to go by. She pulled her shirt off and then her bra, tossing them in a heap beside them as Matt toed off his shoes.

He knelt back down then, his hands curling her ankles and yanking them lightly. Her back hit the mat with a light thud and she looked up at him shocked before laughing. With a wicked grin, he pulled her leggings and panties off together but painfully slow and her desire was increasing with every second he made her wait for it. She wouldn't beg though. She sat back up, tugging at his shorts and he bent down, kissing her roughly as she yanked them down with his boxers. She fisted him tightly and he moaned into her mouth, causing her to smirk into the kiss. Letting go, she pulled the shorts and boxers all the way off him before pushing him onto his back.

It was his turn to look mildly shocked and she climbed on top of him, her slick heat trapping his cock against his belly. His eyes were darting around her face and she leant forward, catching his lower lip with her teeth. He let out a long groan, arching up at her as she tugged it before letting it go with a pop. She sat up, pushing up on her knees before she gripped him and lined herself up. Without a word she sank down onto him and the pair moaned in relief. It was instant for her, that feeling of him filling her up like that. Knowing her release would come soon. She rested her hands on his firm chest for leverage as she started moving her hips. His hands felt like they were all over her body at once. Not soft or sweet, but firm and demanding and he took in every detail of her body.

The gym was filled with moans and gasps as she rode him hard, her anger at his behaviour and the thrill of fighting with him fuelling her pleasure. She almost found it ironic that they were fucking in a boxing ring with how often they fought. He pulled her down roughly, lips smashing against hers as he ravaged her mouth. She felt that euphoric feeling getting closer, her whole body tingling in anticipation. She got faster and harder, chasing the release she was after like her life depended on it.

"Don't stop," Matt groaned against her lips, one hand gripping the back of her neck while the other was on her ass, fingers digging into her flesh. She had no plan on stopping though. Not when she was this close. She kept up the pace and then she moaned loudly, her body tensing lightly as she clamped down around him.

He let out the hottest fucking noise she’d ever heard a human make and it only heightened her own pleasure as she rode the waves of her orgasm. He was clinging onto her tightly, rutting up into her as he panted and then groaned, spilling himself inside of her. He relaxed instantly. Hands falling to his sides. She sat there on top of him as she tried to catch her breath. Her cheeks were flushed and her hair had started falling out of her ponytail. She was thoroughly fucked and in the best way. That beautiful feeling was coursing through her veins as she let the hormones and endorphins flow though her.

She climbed off him carefully before standing up and stretching.

"I'm gonna hit the shower," she hummed sounding blissful as she scooped up her clothes. She walked completely naked to the showers and got herself cleaned up and presentable. She didn't regret it, it was amazing and she felt good now. And from the sounds he made, he enjoyed himself too. She just hoped he meant it when he said they were on the same page.

--------------

Matt stood in his own shower in the men’s changing rooms as he let the cold water pelt him. His brain was a fried mess and he leaned against the cool tiles as he tried to just think clearly. He wasn't sure why he'd done it again, not after last time. He couldn’t really say what had bothered him about the fact she left last time. He'd gotten out of the shower and went to his room and she was just gone. No words, no note, nothing. He knew it had been purely physical, they could barely tolerate each other. He wasn't stupid enough to think too deeply into it. Yet it left him feeling strangely hollow when she’d just left him like that.

And then when he had turned up to work, Foggy had been acting weird. After some pressure he'd told Matt about his conversation with Daphne. Matt was pretty sure he hadn't gotten the whole story from him but the gist of her saying it was just sex was clear. And he'd told Foggy she was right. It was a one time thing because of all their pent up anger and the adrenaline from the night they'd had. He told his best friend to stop thinking about it. Yet he hadn't been able to do the same. He'd ended up texting her using Foggy's phone to see if she would be home and then he went to see her. No rhyme or reason or idea why he was going there. All he knew was that it bothered him.

It wasn't like he’d never had casual sex before, although he couldn't say it happened much the last few years. And his inability to understand why he was feeling the way he was led to them fighting again. Because she was right. But he hadn't been able to let it go. So when he left, he told himself it wouldn't happen again. She was trouble and being around her wore him out. It wasn't worth it. So how did he end up here again? Oh that's right, apparently he'd turned into a horny teenager again. A bit of sparring, feeling her body against his and sensing how happy she was in the ring really fucked his hormones over. And now here he was again. Only this time it was his own fault. She’d actually turned him down and he'd been the one to push. He couldn't say he regretted it either. It was the best damn sex he’d ever had and it left him feeling more chilled out than he felt in a long time. He'd keep his mouth shut this time and not act like a teenage girl about it. He dug himself into this hole and now he had to climb his own way out.

-----------------------

Daphne towel dried her hair as much as she could and it left it wavy. She scooped it up in a messy bun on top of her head, a few stands framing her face. The euphoric feeling she got after sex was easing but she still felt calm and settled. It was nice, she didn't get to experience it that much anymore. She really didn't want to have to face Matt, not knowing if he'd throw a tantrum like last time. She didn't want him to read into it again or act all weird about it. It really killed the vibe and ruined her good mood. She'd tried to stop it from happening, not wanting to deal with that again, but she hadn't been able to help herself when he'd wanted her so clearly. There was something addictive about it. But now she felt dread settle into her bones as she thought about how he would react.

She took her sweet time getting dried and dressed simply to buy herself some time. But eventually she was done and she had to leave the changing room. As she walked out into the main part of the gym, Matt was sitting on the bench tying his laces.

"Ready?" He asked softly. No awkward questions, no anger in his voice. Maybe he was on the same page now after all. She felt relief sweep through her, allowing her to enjoy the calmness that she'd been left with after their time together.

"Yeah," she replied, grabbing her backpack and putting it over her shoulder.

Matt grabbed his cane where it was leaning against the wall. He was now wearing a hoodie too and he grabbed his glasses out of the pocket as he slid them onto his face. She wondered if he ever got sick of having to act blind. He was blind but not like the average blind person. He didn't really need the stick and she'd seen him 'bumping' into things like he hadn't known they were there before. When they stepped out into the sunshine, she winced and squeezed her eyes shut.

"Jesus christ! I think I've joined the blind club," she grumbled, rubbing her poor eyes. The sun just burnt the shit out of her retinas. He let out a surprised laugh, the door shutting behind them.

"Here," he grinned. She cracked a wary eye open, seeing him holding out his glasses to her, but she didn't take them.

"It's not like I need them,” he teased. It helped. She felt a little better. She slid them onto her face and her eyeballs thanked her immediately. They started walking down the street together and she glanced into a window as they walked by, looking at her reflection. She snorted at herself. Her hair, despite being recently washed and put up, was a wavy mess. Her cheeks were still rosy pink and the glasses looked weird on her face.

"They suit you," he mused playfully. She shoved him lightly, causing him to laugh when an older woman gasped at her actions.

"Assaulting a blind man in public? It's like you want to get arrested," he smirked.

"Yeah well, Foggy will be my lawyer so I'll be good," she quipped back with a grin. Now they were on the same page they seemed to be amicable after venting their frustration on each other.

"You really think my best friend would take your side over mine?" He asked, faking being hurt as he held his hand over his heart. She stopped walking and he did the same as she looked at him.

"I hate to say it but I think he prefers me now. Not that I can blame him. You are a bit of an asshole," she grinned mischievously. He gaped at her before his hand darted out and went to grab the glasses. She squeaked, holding them in place as he tried to steal them from her face.

"You don't deserve my glasses," he snorted.

"Come on! I need my eyes, I'm not like you!" She whined pitifully.

"And what's this?! My two favourite people, getting along nicely? Is the world ending?" A dramatic voice sounded from next to them. Both she and Matt stilled completely in a comical way before they took a step away from each other. Both of them looked caught out as they looked at a very smug Foggy.

"This is great! Better than great! I love this," he beamed like a kid on Christmas. Daphne groaned and glared at him from the glasses still perched on her face.

"Foggy, I swear! You want us to not kill each other when we're in the same room? Don't make a big deal about it when it happens," she huffed.

"It is a big deal. You're both laughing and smiling together. This is huge. It's like a rare solar event or something," he defended.

She resisted the urge to throttle him as Matt rubbed his temples.

"Foggy," Matt warned lightly.

"Okay! I get it, I'm making it weird. This whole thing is new to you both and I'm just making it awkward," he soothed, holding his hands up in surrender.

"There is no 'thing'. We can't just actually have a moment where we get on with each other before you start trying to marry us off again?" She whined.

"Marry us off? What?" Matt asked quickly, his head whipping to his friend. She snorted as Foggy's cheeks went a little pink and he shot her a glare

"Oh, he didn't tell you he's the captain of ship Maphne?" She laughed loudly. She didn't care if Matt knew. It was ridiculous to her and she was getting payback on Foggy for being a little shit.

"Maphne? Do I even wanna know?" Matt asked exasperated. Foggy shot her another look before standing up straighter.

"You know what, Daph, mock me all you want but this is the hill I'm choosing to die on," he pointed at her. Matt still stood there unsure of what they were even talking about. She opened her mouth for another retort that would no doubt embarrass Foggy further and also maybe make Matt uncomfortable which was a bonus, but Foggy beat her to it.

"Anyway! I'm glad I caught you two, I have great news!" He beamed excitedly. She quirked her brows perplexed as he led them to a table outside of the cafe nearby. The three of them sat around it, Matt and Daphne watching their friend expectantly.

"I finally asked Karen on a date!" He practically squealed. A splitting grin graced Daphne's face, unable not to be happy for him. During their many talks, he'd spoken about his feelings for the blonde and Daphne had always told him to go for it.

"Aw, Foggy! You're growing up, I'm so proud!" She cooed, reaching over and pinching his cheek. He was so happy he just let her.

"That's awesome, man. I'm happy for you," Matt smiled sincerely.

"I know, it's great right? I just finally bit the bullet. I just decided I need to stop being such a baby about it," he explained. He had a weird look on his face though, the same one that usually told her something going on.

"What is it?" Both she and Matt asked at the same time, him clearly picking up on Foggy's weirdness in his own way.

Foggy raised a brow at them both being in sync and she made a point to not even look at Matt so Foggy wouldn't go off on his Maphne tirade again.

"Well… I just… I panicked, okay? I set it all up and she knew I wanted to ask her something. But then I'm like, what if she says no? I mean it's just gonna be me and Karen. Alone. On a date," he uttered looking like a deer in the headlights.

"That's kinda the point, Foggy," Matt teased.

"I know it is. And I couldn't back out because she was just watching me, waiting for what I wanted to ask. I honestly felt like I was about to have a heart attack and I may have asked her on a date but told her it was a double date with you guys," he blurted, barely taking a breath as he did.

Daphne blinked at him for a moment as her brain tried to digest his words.

"You did what?" Matt asked incredulously. Foggy made a pitiful noise and she took Matt’s glasses off and set them in the middle of the table, giving Foggy a look.

"A double date? Implying that me and Matt are actually also going to be on a date. Do you see the flaw in that plan?" She asked slowly, like she was talking to a child about why playing with matches was bad.

"I know! Like I said, I panicked and that's just the first thing that came out of my mouth!" Foggy defended with a sigh.

"And Karen actually bought that?" Matt scoffed, gesturing with his hand to him and then Daphne.

"You're kidding right? She's all aboard this ship, she was actually excited about it," Foggy smirked. She kicked him under the table and he groaned. Matt's jaw ticked as he glared in his best friend's direction.

"This isn't a joke, Fogg. All the shit you give me for keeping my secret from her and you're just lying right to her face about this?" Matt frowned.

"That's completely different. Your secret is dangerous. This one isn't. For all she knows it's your first date too and after that it just didn't work out. Besides, it's not like you're not getting it on with each other, would it really be that hard to just pretend to be on one date?" He pleaded, looking from her to Matt.

"Yes," they both answered again.

"Please? I really need this. If I tell her you're not going she might cancel too. You two are like a buffer, help set the scene and put her at ease. I really like her, guys. I don't want to mess things up," he begged.

"Foggy-" Matt started sternly, only to be cut off by Daphne.

"Fine. But you're paying for dinner," she relented.

Foggy smiled the widest grin she'd ever seen on a human and Matt turned to glare at her.

"You've got to be kidding me," he scoffed incredulously.

"What? Didn't you hear him? He's our friend, Matt. Let's just do this for him. Besides, free dinner," she shrugged. Matt looked pissed and honestly it was a reward she hadn't expected. She'd almost forgotten how nice it felt to push his buttons.

"This is ridiculous. You really think she's not gonna notice we can't stand each other once she's sat at a table with us for a while?" Matt glowered. He had a point but they could just try to be civil for Foggy's sake.

"You know what, Matt, I really hate to play this card but you left me no choice. You lied to me for the longest time and now I have to keep your secret. I already have to start a potential relationship with lies for you. Can't you just do this one thing for me? I never ask you for anything," Foggy muttered with a frown.

A sly grin spread on her face at how underhand it was of Foggy. She almost felt like a proud parent as she watched a million emotions pass over Matt's face before defeat was all that was left.

"Fine. But don't say I didn't want you when this all blows up in your face. And you're paying for my dinner too," he huffed. Foggy looked more than pleased with himself.

"Thank you! You guys are awesome. I'll even pay for your drinks if you actually try and act like you like each other and not make it awkward," he shot them both a toothy grin.

"Hey, let me drink as much as I want and I'll make it really look like we're on a date," she smirked devilishly, a wiggle of her eyebrows and Foggy burst out laughing.

"Jesus christ," Matt muttered quietly with a shake of his head.

"Deal," Foggy nodded firmly, "tonight at 8. It's the Mexican place near the firm," he instructed before he stood.

"Alright. I'm heading out, you coming with, Matt?" He asked, shooting his annoyed friend a look.

"Yeah. You go on, I'll catch up in a sec," he bit out. Foggy gave her a look and a smirk before he started walking away.

"Really?" Matt glared at her, swiping his glasses from the table and shoving them onto his face.

"What? Free food and as much booze as we want? Plus doing your best friend a solid? I know you're an asshole, Matt, but I thought you weren't that much of an asshole," she quipped dryly. He clamped his mouth shut, jaw tense as he pursed his lips.

"Fine," he stood up abruptly, gripping his cane before holding it in front of him.

"You're doing this for Foggy. Don't fuck it up for him just because you've got a stick up your ass," she huffed as she stood up too.

He shot her what she presumed was a dirty look behind his glasses before he started walking away, his cane swinging in front of him. His irritation about the situation only made her want to do it more. It was his own fault really for acting like such a bitch about the whole thing. He was asking for her to make it worse for him. She started walking home as a plan formed in her mind. She'd get nice food and decent booze and she'd get to piss Matt off in a setting he had to behave in. She was actually looking forward to it.

As soon as she got home, she called their firm, knowing Karen would be the one to answer.

"Nelson and Murdock, Karen speaking," came the voice down the phone. Daphne trapped the phone to her ear with her shoulder as she tugged off her hoodie and tossed it in the laundry basket.

"Hey Karen, it's Daphne," she said casually.

"Oh! Hi!" She sounded genuinely happy to speak to her and she wondered why she'd never bothered to speak to Karen more since she was so close to Foggy and Matt.

"I know this is weird, we haven't really spoken much. But I wanted to ask a favour since we're going on a double date," she said carefully, flopping onto her sofa.

"Sure, what is it?"

"Don't tell the guys, it's kind of weird for me. It's just… this is mine and Matt's first date too and it's been so long. I was wondering if you'd help me get ready for the date? I wanna look really good. I mean I know he can't really see, but he just somehow knows these things, right?" She grinned, cringing at how hard she was going at this. She felt a tiny bit bad at lying to her but she ignored it.

"Of course! I'd… I'd really love that. I'm nervous too and it'd be good to just have some girl time," Karen said softly.

"Thank you, I really appreciate this. We could go to the restaurant together when we're done," Daphne smiled pleased with herself. After exchanging cell numbers and goodbyes, Daphne sat back on the couch with a smirk. She wanted to turn heads. Not only just to irritate Matt, using her knowledge of him finding her physically attractive against him, but it had been a while since she went out. Usually she did so with a goal in mind, to have sex. And she would turn heads, a lot of them. Tonight was different but it didn't mean her ego wouldn't enjoy being looked at. It certainly would be interesting.

#matt murdock x oc #matt murdock fanfic #matt murdock #daredevil x oc #daredevil fanfiction #daredevil

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ghostofstudentspast · 4 years

Text

Obligatory (part 2)

Series Masterlist

“Oi Y/L/N, is it true you’re marrying the ferret?” a ginger head of hair popped up next to you as you kept your head held high walking to class.

As it turned out, the Hogwarts rumour mill was rather dry, so the news of you being engaged to Malfoy had spread like wildfire. You had tried your hardest to ignore the stares and the whispers that followed you through the halls, especially from the Gryffindors. Slytherins and purebloods were ever so slightly more understanding, earning you looks of pity rather than ones of disgust. You weren’t sure which was worse.

“I don’t see how that’s any of your business Weasley.” You didn’t even look at the boy before answering.

You weren’t on bad terms with Weasley and Potter. Not in the way Malfoy was anyway. Regardless of how much you tolerated them, you weren’t in the mood to be interrogated. Besides, Ron always came off as a bit of a self centred boy in your opinion.

“People are judging you anyway, you might as well tell the truth,” he scoffed and stopped walking. You kept walking, keeping your eyes ahead.

Mother had always said you were good at handling people. You’d figured out later you were just good at presenting the version of you people wanted to see. Your parents wanted a soft spoken little princess. Your teachers preferred an attentive listener who asked in depth questions. Pansy and Theo liked it better when you were loud and confident. All of these people saw different sides of you and the only person who really ever listened was your best friend Daphne.

She was the one holding your hand walking down the hall now. Quick to shoot a venomous glare at anyone who dared to look your way with a haughty attitude. She had been there to wipe away your tears when you had tried again and again to figure out a way out of this contract.

The contract you currently had clutched in your hand as you made your way to the library. As promised your father had drawn up a copy of the contract for you to hold onto. To read over and over again until the lines all blurred together. As you flattened the contract against the library table you wondered if you were fooling yourself, hoping for a way out.

“So, I got permission from professor Snape to use the restricted section. I’m definitely on his watch list now though,” Daphne murmured from the cushy seat beside you, “he probably thinks Theo wants to do something illegal again,” she snorted.

It wasn’t unusual to find a Slytherin in the restricted section. While Ravenclaws might be the more studious ones, Slytherins were set on knowing as much as they could about the important things in life. Hence why every pureblood you knew had been learning dark magic, and it’s counter curses since their first year at Hogwarts. Some things would never be taught in classes but if you were clever, you’d find a way.

Theo however, had been banned from the restricted section for life by every teacher around. In fifth year they caught him trying to curse one of the school toilets to bite people and accidentally flooded an entire bathroom on the third floor. Needless to say, he was kept under a watchful eye.

“Have you talked to Draco yet? About all of this I mean?” Daphne whispered as she added a few books to the growing pile on your table.

“No, he’s been avoiding me,” you hadn’t exactly been hunting him down but it was the truth. Anytime you’d be in the vicinity, he’d suddenly find himself extremely busy or he’d disappear into the crowd. “I don’t blame him. He’s not exactly pleased about this either.”

“Y/N...” Daphne hesitated before asking what was on her mind, and everyone else’s for that matter, “did he really take the mark? Blaise wouldn’t tell me.”

You fiddled with the edge of your sleeve. It wasn’t your place to tell her these things but she was your best friend. Your parents had of course let you know that your darling husband to be was now in fact, a death eater. You nodded ever so slightly and met Daphne’s eyes. They were round with concern and a hint of fear was etched onto her delicate features. She chewed on her lip for a moment and pulled the contract over to her.

“Well, lets figure this out then shall we.” it was an unspoken rule between the two of you. Never admit how afraid you were of your families. Never let them hear your hesitation when they asked about your allegiances. Only the two of you knew, you were too kind hearted, too soft, too disgusted to ever really be on their side. It was what bonded you together.

It was the first Hogsmeade weekend by the time you got to speak to Draco. Well, that’s when you gathered your confidence anyway. You approached him outside the three broomsticks, the two boys flanking him spotted you before he did.

“Hi Blaise, Theo!” You smiled widely at the two boys who grinned in return, “Malfoy, a word please.” your smile was tight as he turned to face you.

“Keep the missus happy Draco,” Theo hollered after you. To your relief, Blaise smacked him in the forehead and dragged him into the pub.

“What do you want? I have things to do.” He crossed his arms and looked over your shoulder, cold air escaping from his parted lips. It looked like smoke billowing out of a dragons mouth. He was aptly named.

“Daphne and I still haven’t been able to find a single crack in this contract,” you huffed as he still refused to meet your gaze and instead fiddled with his gloves, “I need your help.” you bit the inside of your cheek.

“Look who’s suddenly involving me in this,” his cocky smirk popped back onto his lips easily, “we don’t have a copy of the contract and I’m not stealing from my father.” he deadpanned.

“I have a copy.” you didn’t meet his eyes and shuffled your feet.

“Of course you do.” his tone was clipped, pissed off, you could tell. “So much for sharing that with me. Whatever, fine, give me the contract and I’ll take a crack at it.”

“I can’t just give you the contract Malfoy I need it too,” you mentally cursed him, talking to him always felt like trying to eat soup with a fork. Very difficult and you don’t get much out of it.

“Yeah alright, then meet me in the common room tomorrow at noon and we’ll look at it together.” his icy eyes met yours and seemed to stare right into your mind, maybe they could, you were sure he knew legilimency. “Anything else or am I free?”

“Yeah, you’re free,” you blinked at him, “I’ll see you tomorrow,” you nodded and swallowed the lump in your throat before turning on your heel and stalking back towards the castle. Bloody Malfoy.

“No I’m telling you, clause 19 counteracts that. I have to take your name.” You paced in front of the black couch Draco currently occupied.

In his hands he held your copy of the contract. After every few lines of reading he’d throw out a spell, potion or non-magical suggestion to a clause. You would then be forced to point out why these things wouldn’t work, as if you hadn’t already considered every option.

When he’d suggested polyjuice potion you’d laughed. Living separately? You’d immediately pointed a few lines down where it stated you’d take over the left wing of Malfoy Mansion. Simply having an open marriage? The scandal would be horrible, so of course your father had added a clause for that.

“I’m telling you Malfoy you need to get more creative.” You shot a tight lipped smile his way as he pushed his glasses farther up his nose. You hadn’t actually been aware that he needed glasses. They made him look less uptight, or maybe it was the fact that his hair wasn’t slicked back with gel.

“Yeah, I’m trying here Y/L/N,” he ran a hand through his hair again. “You running a hole in the floor isn’t exactly helping.” he added without looking up.

For the past half and hour you’d been alternating between pacing back and forth and perching on the sofa opposite of Malfoy. Something about the intensity in his gaze while he scanned his way down the parchment made everything feel all the more real.

In fact the next few Sunday’s, leading you all the way into the holiday season, you and Malfoy could be found spitballing ideas back and forth in the common room. It was the most you’d spoken to each other in years and it was strangely tolerable. He still made you want to throw a book at him every twenty minutes but at least that was an upgrade from every five minutes.

“I don’t know if there’s a way out of this,” Draco finally spoke after a prolonged silence. It was the week before Christmas break and while you refused to give up hope, he’d seen through the contract weeks ago and knew you were just holding on for your sanity.

“No, there has to be,” You chewed your lip anxiously, “I mean, maybe he left something out?”

“Our fathers are death eaters what do you expect Y/N,” his voice was cool and smooth, almost like a piece of glass, “they’re not stupid.”

“My father isn’t a death eater.” You stopped pacing and faced the blond.

“When’s the last time you’ve seen him wear short sleeves? The last time you checked his forearm?” His eyes were calculating as they gauged your reaction.

“I-“ you paused and thought hard, “last summer.” Your jaw tightened and you felt tears well up in your eyes. It shouldn’t have surprised you this much. You’d thought maybe it was just a feeble following, something your parents could come back from.

“Hey, I didn’t mean-“ He started awkwardly before you cut him off.

“Keep it.” Your voice wobbled, “keep the contract, I don’t care. I’ll see you over Christmas.”

Series taglist: @xkonpinkx @detroitobsessed @follow-me-down-to-wonderland @pointlesscoconut @irlkell @thehumanistsdiary @mo-onstarrs @summer-writes

#draco malfoy #harry potter #hogwarts #draco x reader #hp fanfiction #draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy fic #pureblood #draco x pureblood!reader #golden era #war fic #angst #harry potter blurb #harry potter blog #writing #hp blurb #hp blog

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heloisedaphnebrightmore · 4 years

Text

Advantages of studying [Remus Lupin x Reader] - Requested

Title: Advantages of studying Pairing: Remus Lupin x Reader Word count: 2.9k Published: 22 July, 2020 Author: Heloise Daphne Brightmore Notes: I got this cute request by winsalo on Wattpad a couple of days ago. Summary: You have been helping Remus with his Potions essay, whilst slowly falling for the kind boy. However you are rather shy around Remus and find it hard to make the first step. Request: [x]

"Please could you do one with Remus and a girl called Evangeline but Eve for short. They become sloe whilst studying together. I love your writing by the way." - Winsalo [Wattpad]

Harry Potter Characters Masterlist | Masterlists

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You have been sitting in the library for the past two hours, studying with Remus. Studying might have been a strong use of word as you have been trying not to stare at him the whole time. You kept your face down, pretending to read the lines of your potions book, but you couldn't even recall a word. Of course, you couldn't. Although you kept glancing at the book, your eyes often wondered to the brown haired boy sitting across the table.

Potions wasn't his strongest subject, therefore you have been helping him with the essay you were given by Professor Slughorn. He was so concentrated on his parchment, his brows furrowed, whilst trying to write down his thoughts. At times he ran his fingers through his locks with a deep sigh leaving his lips as if it helped him in concentrating. His long fingers wrapped themselves around his quill, holding them firmly in place. It made you wonder what kind of a boy he was.

You have known him since first year and you could only see a kind side of his, but you knew there was always more to people. You wished to get to know him better, you wished to talk to him more often. Unfortunately for you, he was quite reserved. Unless he needed help with studying, he didn't talk to you much. He did wave at you or smiled gently while nodding when you met in class, but he never really initiated a conversation. You wished he did though. You were rather shy when it came to him. You never really dared to get close to him, feeling as if he was trying to keep everyone away from himself, other than his three best friends.

You admired him for his smart brain, his kind manners, his polite behaviour, but you rarely saw those sides and unfortunately your lack of knowledge on him forced you to admire only his physical appearance. You didn't complain though. He was dashingly handsome and a sweet candy to the eyes.

You tried very hard not to stare, but it seemed to be impossible. He flipped through the pages of the book he was taking his notes from, before he lifted his face to look up at you, causing your eyes to widen in surprise. You felt like you have been caught out and you were unable to hide the blush creeping up on your cheeks.

"Is everything okay?" He asked, but instead of looking at him, your eyes wondered to the shelves full of old and dusty books. You were trying to avoid his eyes in case your stupid little brain decided to stare at him once again, creepily.

"Sure." You replied after a moment of silence, digging yourself into your book.

"Look, if you have anything else to do, I can finish it from here." He spoke, making you frown as you finally looked into his dark, green eyes and shook your head.

"No, not at all. I guess, I am just a bit distracted, that's all." You let a small smile spread across your face.

"Can I help?" He asked, but you shook your head, knowing this was a battle you had to fight with yourself.

"It's nothing important." You tried to reassure him.

"Well, it seems to me that it is. You haven't written a word on your parchment." He pointed at your paper and for a second you could feel your face go white as your blood rushed out of your cheeks.

"Oh..." You breathed, realisation hitting you hard.

"So...?" He tried again, but you just shook your head, quickly starting to write your essay, knowing you had barely a few hours to finish it. Remus didn't try to talk to you again, seeing that you were completely lost in your studies. He smiled softly as he looked at your hunched form, your complete attention on your paper.

Hours passed by when Madam Pince walked over, her nose held high, his brows raised, impatiently waiting for the students to leave the library. You both packed your books, notes, quills and inks, putting them all in the bags, ready to leave. As you walked out of the library, Remus placed a hand on the small of your back and halted, turning towards you. You raised a brow at his unexpected actions, but gave him your undivided attention.

"I guess, you don't have to tutor me anymore." Remus smiled at you as if he thought it was some kind of a burden on you. However you didn't return his joyful expression. You weren't happy to say the least. You didn't want that gap to stand between you two once again, but you didn't dare to do anything about it. He clearly didn't want you as anything more than a tutor.

"Yes, but if you have any questions, you can always ask me." You reassured more yourself than him, hoping for him to come to you eventually.

"I will, thank you." He nodded and offered you a pleased look, before he walked away from you, leaving you to stare at the back of the dark brown jumper he has been wearing. You heaved a deep sigh as you walked up to your dormitory, concluding that you have been left to ogle over his mere presence from afar once again. Arriving to your dorm, you threw yourself on your bed and hid your face in your pillow, hoping for this feeling you have been harbouring for him to just disappear.

The next couple of days have been quite. You watched him sitting at the end of the Gryffindor table at breakfast, you stared at his back on Potions and Transfiguration, being seated right behind him, you gazed at his laughing form, sitting by the lake with his friends. You wished to be part of all his experiences, but you knew your love for him was only one sided. Love, indeed. You came to love the oblivious boy, making it so much harder to watch him from afar.

You were sitting in your dorm room, legs spread across the floor, back leaning against the edge of the bed. You have been sighing for minutes straight, before your friend walked up to you and sat down besides you.

"You have to stop this. Why don't you just ask him out?" She asked curiously.

"I can't. He... he is Remus. He wouldn't date with someone like me." You let out a defeated deep breath, head hanging low in sorrow.

"What does that even mean? Have you looked into the mirror? You are beautiful, you are smart, you are funny. Who wouldn't want to date you?" She asked with a sceptical look on her face.

"Clearly noone." You huffed. You couldn't recall receiving a single confession recently.

"Erm... yeah. You have been staring at Remus so obviously, that everyone is aware of it." She raised her brow knowingly.

"No, I have not." You argued, but she shook her head.

"Yes, you have. I could walk around the dorm, knocking on doors and people would confirm it without hesitation." She smirked. "The only person who doesn't realise your feelings is Remus. Look, he is a nice guy, ask him out. Even if he rejects you, which believe me, he won't, you won't have to be scared of being made fun of, because he is just not wired that way." She tried to convince you. While you knew she was right, you were still scared to let him know of your feelings.

"His friends could make fun of me. He could start avoiding me. I could even scare him away and that would be beyond painful." You spoke, but your friend just shook her head.

"Excuses. Do it!" She said as if it was that simple. "Do it!" She repeated it once again with a raised brow. "If you don't I will." She grinned mischievously.

"What?" Your eyes grew wide in shock.

"I will tell him myself." She shrugged nonchalantly.

"No." You replied, suddenly grabbing her shoulder.

"Will you do it then?" She asked, waiting for a clear confirmation.

"Fine, I will." You spoke in an unsure tone.

"Good! Now let's go to bed and first thing on the morning you will confess your undying love." She giggled, making you grimace at her happy face.

Slumber took over you harder than ever as you tried to think through all the scenarios that could happen. As much as you wished to think of all the happy endings, somehow your mind wondered over to the dark side, imagining all the different kind of rejections you expected to receive. Deep sighs left your lungs on numerous occasions, to a point where your friend woke up and threw a pillow at your face. You growled at her childish behaviour, but soon finally let your nervous thoughts go and fell into a sweet dream, revolving around Remus.

The next morning you stood in front of your mirror, preparing yourself for the most embarrassing day of your life. You wanted to stay behind and just play the poor, sick student act, but your friend laughed straight in your face and pushed you out the door. You rolled your eyes at her dominant behaviour, but headed down to the Great Hall for breakfast anyway.

Remus was already sitting at the table with his friends, laughing about probably the newest prank they have been planning. You heaved a deep sigh and took your seat, trying to avoid the inevitable.

"Come on." Your friend ushered you, but you just shook your head furiously.

"Not in the Great Hall." You frowned.

"Why not?" She asked, her head tilting in confusion.

"Everyone could hear it. Let me do it later." You whispered, not wanting anyone to know that you have been planning something.

"Fine." She huffed and returned to her breakfast.

Classes flew by and since your friend wasn't nagging you, you certainly thought you were off the hook. Oh, what a wrong thought that was. Classes finished and you were sitting outside the Black lake as per your friend's request, studying for your Transfiguration exam. You were deep in your thoughts, but you could just about hear a group of boys laughing loudly at the edge of the lake. You didn't have to think for long to realise it was Remus who was having fun with his group of friends. You turned to your friend, your cheeks heating up, feeling embarrassment coming over you.

"It's time." She said with a cheeky smile, biting into her lower lip. You frowned suspiciously before it all downed on you.

"You knew!" You stated firmly, but she just shrugged with the same smile across her face and nudged your shoulder, telling you to go.

You placed your books and parchment on the grass and stood up hesitantly, while rearranging your wrinkled cloths. You looked back at your friend, hoping for a more empathetic feeling from her, but she just gave you a sceptical look as if she knew you wanted to run away. You knew you had no escape route at this point, but your legs didn't move. You stood there, looking at the man who has stolen your heart, but you just couldn't take the first step.

"Remus." You heard her calling him from beside you and you gave a terrified look to your friend, who simply shrugged it off. "Go." She said as she lowered her head back into her book once again.

Your eyes looked up to the owner of the green orbs, who was curiously searching for a reason why he was called over so abruptly. You met him right in the middle of the land, between both of your friends and stood silently. You exhaled sharply, before deciding to speak up.

"Hey." Your voice was weak and low, he could barely hear you.

"Hey, is everything okay?" He asked, realising your rather nervous fidgeting.

"Yeah..." You spoke hesitantly. "I..." You tried to get your words out, but they just didn't seem to come. "I thought..." You kept attempting to say what you practiced last night, but your mind drew a blank and you started to get more and more scared of the situation. He could see your shaking hands and before you knew it, he grabbed them and squeezed them gently.

"You don't seem okay." He said, worry clear in his voice. His touch made you feel even more terrified and out of mere fear you quickly removed your hands from his. "I'm sorry." He apologised as he realised what he had done.

"No!" You shot up, not wanting him to feel bad for trying to comfort you. "I just... can I be just honest?" You asked, feeling more and more nervous about beating around the bush.

"Yes, that would be much appreciated." He chuckled lightly. You heaved a deep sigh and exhaled, repeating the process a couple of times before you took the courage to speak up again.

"Would you go on a date with me?" You asked, your words almost slurring together. Your eyes were attached to his face to see a reaction, but he seemed expressionless.

"What?" He finally spoke, but those were not the words you expected.

"Please, don't let me repeat that." Your tone was begging as you felt the fear growing inside you. As if you could be rejected by simply repeating your words.

"I... I didn't think you would look at me like that." He frowned and you tilted your head curiously.

"Why not?" You asked, knowing that you have been more than obvious about your feelings.

"I don't know. I just didn't see it." He smiled gently, making your heart flutter in hope, but then silence fell up on you, making you anxious about his answer once again. His eyes were fixed on the ground, letting his thoughts take over him.

"You were the only one who didn't." You chuckled awkwardly trying to save the situation and fill in the silent gap.

However it didn't work. Remus stood in front of you with a puzzled expression, trying to find the right answer, while you fidgeted with your hands in nervousness. You felt your heart sunk deeper in sorrow as you started to realise that his silence was perhaps a rejection he didn't dare to say, not wanting to hurt you.

You painfully smiled to yourself, concluding that he was perhaps too kind to reject your advances. You let him think for a while, knowing he was probably searching for the nicest words to tell you, he didn't see you that way, that he didn't think of you as a potential romantic interest. You heaved a deep sigh, eyes still glued to the nervous boy.

"Come on, Moony. You have been drooling over Y/N for the past year. Just say yes." Sirius shouted, throwing his arms in the air out of frustration. Your eyes widened at his words and finally Remus looked up at you in shock.

"Damn it." He whispered, but you could just hear it fine. A small smile started spreading across your face, before you started lightly giggling. "That's not how I planned to... yeah." He said, awkwardly scratching the back of his neck. He was nervous, but it wasn't because he was trying to find words to reject you, but because he didn't know the right words, now that his feelings have been returned. "I guess, that would be a yes then." He smiled happily this time. You could barely contain your excitement, but you tried to hide it anyway. You didn't really know much about Remus' friends, but you were certain that you would like them.

"Good, I'm glad you agreed." You spoke awkwardly, not knowing what to do next.

"I would have been stupid not to." He chuckled.

"Go get some Moony." Sirius walked up behind him and patted him on the back, pushing him forward. Things happened so fast, you could barely process the situation. One second Remus was standing in front of you, smiling awkwardly, the next he stumbled over to you, his hands on your upper arms to steady himself, his lips attached to yours.

Your eyes widened in shock, your breath stuck in your lungs as you felt his plump lips against yours. He quickly stepped back, fear clearly projected in his eyes.

"I am so sorry. Sirius just pushed me and I..." He tried to explain everything at once, his words a mess, his arms gesturing all over.

"It's fine." You smiled softly, trying to contain the cheerful screams you wanted to let out so badly. "But next time, maybe after the date." You giggled, which caused a relived sigh to leave his lips, before a smile appeared across his face.

You have never felt more excited in your life, than in the moment he said yes and for the record, there wasn't just one or two kisses, but many more throughout the years.

Notes: If you enjoyed it, don't forget to like and/or reblog the chapter. Thank you :)

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#remus lupin #remus x reader #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin x reader imagine #remus lupin x reader one shot #remus x reader imagine #remus x reader one shot #remus x reader fanfiction #harry potter #harry potter fanfiction #james potter #sirius black

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pacific-rimbaud · 4 years

Text

Drabble #39: "Hey! I was gonna eat that."

by PacificRimbaud for @grangerdangerfics

Rated M for language and sexual references

Pairing: Pansy Parkinson x Michael Corner

Tags: High School AU, Non-magical AU, discussion of teen sex

"Cocoa Puffs. Nice."

Michael, folded in half and pushing a half-gallon carton of Minute Maid aside to grab the milk, stood up quickly, cracking the top of his head on the ceiling of the refrigerator.

"Shit!" The gallon jug of milk hung from the index finger of one hand, and he rubbed the top of his scalp with the other.

He'd entirely forgotten that it had been Spirit Day, but he was reminded of it by the sight of Pansy closing his sliding back door behind herself, her twiggy legs poking out from the ass-grazing hem of her cheer skirt.

"Can you knock?" he asked, pulling the plastic seal from the cap of the milk. "Is that something you've got stashed away in your grossly under-tapped skill set? Or do you just do pom poms now?"

"Mom says I don't have to." She parked herself on the bar stool Michael had intended to sit on at the kitchen island.

"My mom or your mom?"

"Your mom."

He sat down at the opposite end of the bar, reached over to hook a fingertip into the edge of the bowl of Cocoa Puffs sitting in front of Pansy, and dragged it across the counter toward himself.

An enormous bow, purple with white polka dots, sat at the top of her head, crowning her blunt black bob. Her eyelids were shaded to match. Michael thought he smelled artificial grape, and wondered if it was her lip gloss.

"Why are you in my house, Minnie Mouse?" He poured milk over his cereal, then walked back to the fridge to put it away. Bent over again, he heard the distinctive sound of ceramic scraping across granite, and turned around to find Pansy with his bowl back in front of her and his spoon in her hand, chewing earnestly.

"Hey.” He gestured pointlessly at the bowl. “I was gonna eat that."

She waved at him. "Move on. I have a favor to ask you."

Michael pulled another bowl from the cupboard. "You mean besides letting you eat my cereal?"

She nodded, jamming a spoonful into her grape-flavored mouth.

"I need you to start fucking me after school."

Michael froze.

"Excuse me?"

As she waved her hand again, he fixated on her gleaming purple manicure. Each of her nails was a completely smooth oval.

"It's perfect. I checked, and cheer practice lines up almost exactly with robot group–"

"Robotics club."

"Fucking Legobots clubhouse, and mom doesn't get home until 6:15."

"My mom or your mom?"

"My mom. Your mom gets home at 5:45, so that’s another half an hour at my house, which we might need, I don't know. Anyway, like I said, you're right next door, it's perfect." She took another bite of Michael's cereal.

Carefully, deliberately, he set his new bowl down at his new spot at the island, and sat down.

Slowly, methodically, he filled it to the brim with Cocoa Puffs.

“Is this like a fake dating thing? Are you trying to get Draco back by pretending we’re sleeping together or something?”

Pansy shook her head. “No. It’s the opposite of that. We’re going to have real sex, but no one will know about it. And I’m still not talking to you at school.” She’d finished chasing the last globes of cereal around in her milk, and grabbed the box to top off her bowl.

Michael could feel himself glitching.

“Sex.”

“Yes, Michael.”

“With me.”

“Yes, Michael.”

He rebooted. “Why me?”

“It just makes sense. We’ve already seen each other naked,” she said. “Taken baths together. Slept in the same bed.”

“Yes, when we were two.”

He thought about the photo albums on the shelves in the TV room, and the series of photographs taken of her and Michael standing in a plastic pool in the backyard, arms looped around one another’s shoulders, wearing nothing but My Little Pony and Spider-man underpants, respectively, Michael squinting in the sun, Pansy in pink star-shaped plastic sunglasses, tongue out and hip cocked to one side.

“You can sleep with literally any guy at school. And not to be an asshole, like, get it, for sure, but my understanding is that you kind of do.”

She turned toward him with a look of unfiltered excitement and pointed the bowl of her spoon at him. “That’s exactly it. I don’t. But Cassius—”

“Cassius Warrington?”

“Mm hm.”

Cassius Warrington had graduated two years earlier, and now played college football in a very high-profile way.

“I’ve been texting with Cassius, and Daphne was messing around and said something to his sister who told Graham Montague who told Cassius that I’m incredible.”

Michael blinked. “Incredible at having sex?”

“Yes.”

His eyes narrowed. “Are you...not?”

“No! I’ve never done it.”

He looked down into the detritus of cereal powder floating in his now-brown milk, and suddenly short on appetite, dropped his spoon in his bowl.

“But I thought you and Draco, you know, for what, three and a half years…?”

He wondered why he’d felt the need to specify the half.

“His parents are so weird about all that purity stuff. He went down on me constantly, but that’s as far as it went. But no, I haven’t had intercourse.”

“So...you’re asking me to have intercourse with you, so you can have intercourse with your boyfriend?”

“He’s not my boyfriend yet, but basically, yes.”

Michael suddenly felt defensive.

“Why would you think I’d want to do this?”

Pansy stared at him, then waved a hand down the length of her body.

She was all soft, flawless skin and dark hair and big eyes and long legs and…

Michael breathed out.

“Because I’m me,” she said. “And you get intercourse, Michael. Until I’m good at it.”

“Isn’t that a big deal, though? Like don’t you want to have feelings with whoever you have sex with for the first time?”

“That’s exactly the problem. What do you think of when I say ‘virginity’?”

“I mean, it’s a social and not a biological construct, and there are some pretty gross gender disparities—”

“Exactly. That’s why you’re perfect. I don’t want some guy who thinks putting his dick in me is the equivalent of typing ‘First!’ in the comments.”

“And you think Cassius will be? Why date him then?”

“He’s 6’5”. But you’re an analytical nerd, you’re fucking hot, you’re definitely not going to tell anyone, you’re single—”

“What makes you think I’m single?” He paused. “You think I’m hot?”

She only rolled her eyes. “And yes, the double standards are unbelievably fucking annoying,” she said. “Did you?”

“Did I what?”

“Have feelings the first time?”

He swallowed, and pushed the cereal further away.

“I haven’t done it either.”

Pansy and her grape lip gloss stood up abruptly from the bar stool.

He wasn’t tall, exactly, and she wasn’t short, exactly, but when she and her tiny skirt stepped between his parted knees, something about the way she was still a little shorter than him while he was sitting down triggered a rush of adrenaline, and his gut promptly became a thriving butterfly preserve.

“Are you―what, like, right now?” he asked.

He’d been steadily leaning toward saying yes, but if he did, there was a lot of research he’d want to do between now and the actual opening ceremonies.

“No, fucking dork.” Pansy rolled her eyes, and patted her hands against his knees. “My parents are out of town next weekend, and Cassius is gone for an away game, so he’ll be too busy to text.” She smiled, and it was something less like the Cheshire smirk she flashed at her friends across the quad, and more like the way she used to look when they tore open their first Otter Pops in Michael’s back yard every summer, until they’d turned twelve and both moved on.

“We’re going to be so bad,” she said. “But that’s fine.”

“I hope not. I mean...if we...I’d try. Obviously. To not be bad.”

“It’s not like AP Calculus.”

“No, I don’t imagine it’s anything like AP Calculus.”

Michael glanced at her mouth, glistening and faintly purple, and Pansy’s eyes widened.

Fuck it, he thought.

He settled one hand at her hip and the other at the back of her neck, and then he kissed her.

They separated a full minute later, both breathless.

Oh, Michael thought.

“Oh,” she said.

“Next weekend?” he asked, hand tightening over her hip. “Like, what time?”

“I guess...” She stared at Michael’s lips, and her hips tilted forward. “Whenever.”

Oh, fuck.

#Pansy Parkinson #Michael Corner #ParKorner #slytherclaw #drabble

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xo-gossipwitch · 3 years

Note

I think I saw Theodore Nott and one of the Patil twins exiting the Shrieking Shack. Don't know which one he was with. She lost house tie.

Sometimes you know who the bad guy is from the start, but most times, you find out they've been standing in front of you all along.

Everyone thought Nott would leave Astoria for Queen D; no one would have ever expected the Patil twins to throw their name in the mix.

Be careful, witches. There's a storm brewing on the horizon.

~xoxo, Gossip Witch

"What did you do?" Parvati hissed, smacking Padma's arm as she snuck up behind her. Parvati glanced around at the faces of the other students who had just read the same Gossip Witch blast and grabbed her sister by the arm. She pulled her into an empty classroom on the opposite side of the hall. Parvati kicked the door shut, whispering a locking and silencing charm on the door before turning back to her sister.

"What the hell are you talking about, and why did you have to squeeze my arm so hard?" Padma groaned, rubbing her elbow as she looked her sister up and down.

"What were you doing with Nott?" Parvati replied, biting back the urge she felt to reach across the room and strangle her sister. "How could you be so damn stupid?"

"Now wait just a damn minute," Padma said, stomping her foot as she crossed her arms over her chest. "Before you jump to any conclusions, I wasn't doing anything with Theo other than walking back up from the Shrieking Shack with him. I was walking up from the Forest of Dean and happened to catch up to him."

Parvati looked at Padma for a few moments, reflecting on what she had just heard. As much as she wanted to believe her sister, she knew that she wasn't the only one who had jumped to conclusions based on the blast. "That's not the way Gossip Witch makes it sound," Parvati insisted, shaking her head.

"Of course not," Padma shouted, tossing her arms in the air. "What kind of a headline would Padma and Theo seen walking back to the castle? She had to make it spicy, or no one would question it."

"Then tell me what happened," Parvati insisted, furrowing her brow as she looked her sister up and down. "That way, you at least have me on your side when people start asking questions."

"Let them ask questions," Padma shrugged, adjusting her bag on her shoulder. She glanced up at the clock on the wall and sighed. "If they are asking questions, then it means they are finally talking about me. We're going to be late for class."

"Who cares about class?" Parvati exclaimed, her eyes wide in amazement at her sister's nonchalant nature about the entire school talking about her social life. "Since when do you care about people talking about you?"

"Since I found out they weren't talking about me at all," Padma said, pushing past Parvati. "Alohomora."

"We aren't done here," Parvati said, reaching for Padma's shoulder.

"You aren't done. I am," Padma replied, pulling away from her. "When you want to talk to me like I'm your sister, you know where to find me."

Padma pulled the door shut behind before Parvati could protest. Parvati stood at the door, dumbfounded at her sister's lack of trust in her. With a heavy sigh, she hung her head and left the empty classroom behind. The words of her sister were sitting heavy on her heart.

~xoxo~

Astoria started at the flames sparking in the fireplace as she crumpled the latest Gossip Witch blast in her hand. Furious was the best word she could come up with to describe how she was feeling about the newest piece of dirty laundry Gossip Girl decided to air out. She let out a huff as she threw the piece of parchment into the fire. Astoria smiled as she heard the flames roar to life. The sound was comforting in the silence that was the common room at this late hour.

"Bad enough when it was just sneaking around with my sister," Astoria mumbled, slumping down in the chair with her eyes closed for a few moments. As soon as she found herself comfortable, a loud thud came from the doorway. Astoria glanced over her shoulder and noticed a familiar brunette head stumbling into the room. "You've got to be bloody kidding me," she huffed, pushing herself up out of the chair and made her way quickly to the door.

She reached the door just in time as Daphne stumbled over her two feet and collapsed into Astoria's arms. Astoria kept them both from falling and carefully led her sister over to the couch. Daphne's hair smelled of firewhisky and bile. Astoria held her breath until she could get herself situated on the sofa before kneeling on the floor in front of her.

"Daphne," she said calmly, reaching up to cup her sister's cheek.

Daphne's eyes caught Astoria's, and she quickly pulled away, attempting to stand only to fall back into the couch. "What do you want?" Daphne spat, furrowing her brow.

"How much have you had to drink?" Astoria asked, brushing Daphne's hair out of her face.

"Quit babying me," Daphne hissed, pulling away from Astoria's reach. "I'm fine. I just lost my footing."

"Into a vat of firewhisky?" Astoria asked, leaning back on her haunches as she looked Daphne up and down. "You look like hell."

Daphne rolled her eyes, tucking her feet underneath her bum as she rested her head against the back of the couch. "I just need to sit still for a few minutes. You can go to bed. I'll be fine."

Astoria took one last look at her sister and let out a sigh. There was only one person who could talk some sense into Daphne at this point. She hung her head as she pushed herself up off the floor and made her way to the door. She paused, looking back over her shoulder, and watched as Daphne slumped over onto the couch.

"I hate this," she mumbled, shaking her head as she walked out of the common room. Even though Theo was the absolute last person she wanted to talk to at the moment, she needed him to save her sister.

~xoxo, Gossip Witch ~

Want to be a part of the Gossip Witch fun?

This story is meant to be slightly interactive. Submit anonymous blasts about the students at Hogwarts and you might find your prompt used as inspiration in a future chapter! Submit your blasts to the @xo-gossipwitch blog on tumblr.

Thanks for continuing to inspire this story!

#xo gossip witch #xo gossipwitch #xoxo gossip witch #padma & parvati #theo nott #astoria greengrass #parvati patil #daphne greengrass #alcohol #firewhisky #padma x theo

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invisibleinorange · 4 years

Text

A Different Ending, 3/?

Chapters: 3/? Fandom: Bridgerton Rating: M Warnings: Only be forewarned that this is an AU from the Adrift saga but Colin actually died in this one, so if he’s mentioned he’s actually gone. Relationships: Benedict Bridgerton/Penelope Featherington, Colin Bridgerton/Penelope Featherington (past feelings), Eloise Bridgerton/Penelope Featherington(besties), Bridgerton Family Dynamics, Daphne Bridgerton/Simon Hastings Characters: Penelope Featherington, Eloise Bridgerton, Benedict Bridgerton, Daphne Bridgerton, Additional Tags: Bridgerton, Penadict (do we have a ship name yet?)

Summary: There were some requests for an alternate/Parallel word to "Bridgerton's Adrift" where Benedict and Penelope actually did get married. So this is the result of that peer pressure.

Things had come together so quickly that they didn’t really have anywhere to go, at least not anywhere that wasn’t full of a family. Benedict had assured her that he was going to find the perfect home for them. During their brief engagement, he’d certainly saw fit to inquire about what she might like. If they were to have a home together, he wanted them both to be happy within it.

For their honeymoon, the Duke had generously offered one of his unoccupied family properties that was well-managed but would allow them the privacy that newlyweds deserved. It was a considerable carriage ride but the conversation flowed easy and despite her own anxiousness about everything that had transpired, Penelope didn’t regret it.

There was one thing that she did worry about though and her mother had all but prepared her for it her whole life. Men who didn’t marry for love were often known to stray and to have mistresses. She was fairly certain her mother and father had never loved each other. They had kept separate bedrooms and while their duties were surely performed to have four children, they’d never been overtly affectionate to each other.

Penelope was terrified that Benedict would have the same expectations for marriage. She’d been a small child when Edmund Bridgerton had passed and the family hadn’t exactly been a mainstay in London after then. She’d only ever known Violet as a widow despite stories of how her marriage had been a love match. Would he desire to build the same or cast her aside in search of it as soon as the novelty wore off?

Somewhere after the short tour of the space they would spend the early weeks of their marriage, she was quickly confronted with prospect of being just like her mother and she didn’t care much for it.

“I wasn’t sure how you’d feel about … well, tonight so I told them that they should set up your own room,” Benedict told her with an anxious smile, his hand still firm in hers. His aim was to comfort her and to not make her feel any real pressure to do something she might not be ready for. He hadn’t even tried to kiss her. The look on her face was enough to tip him off that whatever his aim had been; he’d likely made a mistake.

“Do you not wish to share a bed with me?” she asked him after a moment, feeling his gaze burning down into her as if wanting her to tell him what she wanted and how much of an idiot he actually was. She wasn’t even able to meet his eye at that.

He shook his head at the question.

“That’s hardly it,” he told her, free hand to tilt her chin upwards to have her look at him. “I just don’t want to make you uncomfortable. I’m not the kind of man who forces someone to enjoy my company.”

“I do enjoy your company,” Penelope assured him. “I just – my parent never shared a room. I’m pretty sure the only time my Papa ever joined Mama was when he’d partook of too much drink. I can’t even honestly say that they loved each other.”

Benedict nodded in understanding.

“I don’t take my vows lightly,” Benedict assured her. “My father loved my mother tremendously. You couldn’t keep them apart – it’s why there are so many of us. He might have died before I reached manhood but he did show me what it means to be a decent husband and I assure you that I fully intend to be one to you.”

“Then I don’t want to be apart from you,” she told him simply.

It didn’t need further explanation and it wasn’t even something he wanted to debate. He wanted to be near her as well and even if their marriage wasn’t consummated tonight, the next night or the night after that, he was going to be glad to just have her there with him.

He nodded, releasing his hand from her face before gesturing toward the room next to the one he’d identified as hers. He might have been willing to give her the space to have her own room but he’d not wanted to be far from her. He didn’t particularly care if the servants talked about the fact they were newlywed and not sharing a bed but he would have been bothered if she was far away and he couldn’t protect her.

He used a foot to open the door to what was now going to be there room. It was far nicer than their rooms back in London had ever been. Even if their families were far from impoverished, what they could afford was hardly equal to that of the Duke.

“Will this do for you?” he asked quietly.

“The bed looks particularly comfortable, especially after all the excitement and travel,” she admitted. “Do you know if my trousseau had been moved up here yet?”

Benedict’s cheeks turned slightly pink at the thought of it.

“It’s likely in the other room,” he confessed. “I will have them move everything after we’ve managed to get some rest.”

“Then I will go get ready,” she told him.

Benedict let her hand go so that she could slip into the other room, watching as she disappeared before busying himself to slip out of his clothes and into a nightshirt. He typically opted for less but decided modesty might be his best route.

He settled on the side of the bed closest the door, above the covers to wait for her. His intention was to stay awake until she got back. Perhaps engage in a little more conversation before sleep took over but he hadn’t realized how tired he was and he drifted quickly.

When Penelope returned to let herself in, she couldn’t even bring herself to be upset with him for having fallen asleep. She had a robe over a nightgown picked out by Violet herself. She remembered distinctly blushing as Violet had made commentary about how that would certainly encourage a quickening of grandchildren.

She wasn’t so certain about that at the moment.

She gently moved to tug the blankets up and over her new husband before moving to discard her robe and crawl into the other side. She was careful not to wake him but he was sleeping too hard for her to possibly have done so.

She blew out a candle lighting the room before she curled on her side facing him, brushed some hair out of his eyes before placing a light kiss to his temple and murmured a soft, “Good Night”.

Whatever Benedict was dreaming about seemed pleasant enough and she hoped to join him there.

“How could you?”

He heard the words and then felt his body being shoved. Panic and fear filled his lungs as he hit the ground hard, eyes widening when he saw who had pushed him.

Colin stood above him, looking at him with such disdain, anger.

“Please calm down,” Benedict pleased trying to climb to his feet.

“You knew that she loved me and you still married her,” Colin accused. “You couldn’t even wait until my body had properly decayed.”

“I’m sorry -.”

“You’re not sorry,” Colin accused, fist swinging at him again while Benedict tried to dodge. “I’m never going to let you be happy.”

“Please let her be happy then.”

“- Only after you’re rotting in the ground.”

Penelope was startled awake by the shifting in the bed next to her. She felt Benedict tossing and turning in the space next to her. He was pleading in his sleep, begging someone. She heard please and sorry enough times that she couldn’t help but gently try and curl her arms around him.

“It’s a dream,” she said softly. “Just a dream.”

He came to alertness in jarring quickness, his brow wet with sweat. He was prepared to fight and yet, he was wrapped in softness and he could hear her voice so he was forced to just breathe and try and settle down.

“I’m sorry,” he told said this time toward her. His voice was strangled and she’d not quite ever seen him this way.

“You have nothing to be sorry for,” she told him firmly, holding onto him all the tighter. The ungodly hour didn’t matter anymore than the loss of sleep. Normal people wouldn’t have been sleeping anyways on their honeymoon. “Just breathe, Ben. It’s all going to be okay.”

“I – He hates me,” he said after a long minute.

Confusion flooded Penelope’s features.

“Who hates you?” she couldn’t help but ask though she quickly added. “I’m sure it’s all in your head it was just a dream. You have nothing to worry about.”

“He’s haunting me. I think he’s mad that I married you,” he told her.

Penelope’s face twisted in sympathy at that.

“Colin's not mad at you,” she said firmly, kissing his brow as if to try and comfort him further. “He’s not haunting you. It was just a bad dream.”

“But what if it isn’t? He said that you won’t be happy until I’m dead.”

Penelope looked upset at that and for a minute Benedict thought she might agree with it but instead she shook her head, clutched him more fiercely.

“You being dead would make me the absolute opposite of happy,” she said resolutely before turning her attention to the emptiness of the room with a look that reminded him of his own mother when she’s help scare away monsters from under the bed. “Colin Bridgerton, if you’re in this room haunting your brother right right now, I demand you leaves him alone immediately until you have something nice to say.”

Benedict had thought he was going to be the one to protect her but maybe it was going to be the other way around.

#bridgerton #benedict bridgerton #penelope featherington

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everafterdisaster · 4 years

Note

idk if you're still taking promts but if you are; puckbrina, near death experience

Hey :) I am! sorry this took so long, it got a wee bit out of hand!

AN: I decided to set this in the book 5 future AU because I’m obsessed with that reality. This takes place when they are around 19. I hope this is kind of what you had in mind!

Near death experience

It's the worst day of his life. That phrase runs through his head far too often these days but this day surely takes the cake.

He senses something is wrong before he see's anything. One minute his senses are full with the sights and sounds of the battle, scarlet hand members filling the town square, the next a chill runs down his spine. Smoke impairs his vision as he scans the crowd, catching sight of Sabrina moments too late.

All of the cliches are true; the world really does go silent and he see's her fall in slow motion. The talons of a 20 foot, vibrant red dragon slice through her skin like its made of paper and the world stands still. Hes too slow, his brain can't seem to comprehend whats just happened. He's frozen in place.

It's Daphne's piercing scream the spurs him into action, his body moves before his mind can catch up to it. Daphne leaps in front of her sisters crumpled form, taking over her fight without a moments hesitation. she drives a spear into the monsters front leg, all the while dodging the streams of flame that pour from its mouth.

"Get her out of here!" Daphne yells to him, not taking her eyes off the dragon.

He doesn't need to be told twice. Daphne taunts the dragon with her spear, leading it away from Sabrina. He scoops her up as gently as he can, shes completely limp. Her back is warm and sticky, slick with her own blood. He flaps his wings furiously, holding her firmly against his body, as they leave the battle behind them.

He dodges arrows from the army bellow and weaves through the treetops. The wind whips his face, cold and hard, roaring in his ears. The only thing that matters is that he gets her out of here.

He starts his descent as they reach the mountains, though not visible to the naked eye, their base is there, hidden by protective spells.

Its something between a castle and a fortress. It shares many qualities of a castle but with none of the grandeur.

He flies directly over a tall stone wall, past a water tower and right over the mote, landing in front of a set of heavy oak doors.

The doors have been enchanted to recognize the scarlet hand resistance and automatically swing open with a creak to grant him access.

He adjusts Sabrina in his arms and hurries down a corridor and pushes through the doors of medicine wing with his elbow. His eyes dart around, searching for the medics on duty, they land on Nurse Sprat and Bunny Lancaster.

"Gonna need some help over here!" he calls to the two women.

Nurse Sprat comes hurrying over, Bunny hot on her heels. Puck lays sabrina down gingerly on a white stretcher and rolls her onto her side.

"What happened?" Nurse Sprat asks sharply, already examining the long wound running along Sabrina's back.

"Dragon claw" he says shortly " Can you fix it?".

The two women share a worried glance.

"I think it's best you wait outside" Bunny says, not answering his question.

"Wait just a minute, I'm not going anyw-" he protests but Bunny cuts him off.

"That wasn't a request, boy" .

"I'm not leaving her" he insists, his voice wavers slightly with emotion.

"Don't be stupid, child. There's nothing you can do for her here" Bunny puts a hand out and an invisible force slams into him, pushing him towards the door.

"Now, I suggest you get out of here so I can focus on my patient".

The door slams in his face.

Puck paces the corridor alone for what feels like hours. A combination of panic and frustration continuously rise in him until they explode out of him, resulting in him driving his sword through an innocent wooden chair.

He feels so completely useless, he should be in there with her.

Eventually Daphne appears, looking exhausted and filthy.

"How is my sister?" she demands.

She has the hardened face of somebody who has had grow up before properly getting to experience being young. Although only 16 her eyes look older. Older and sadder. Only people who know her well can still see the optimistic, trusting girl she used to be. That girl doesn't make many appearances anymore.

"I don't know, they won't let me see her".

Daphne visibly deflates, allowing for a rare moment of vulnerability. With her back to the wall she slides down to sit on ground, her face buried in her hands.

Puck considers trying to talk to her but decides against it. Knowing the Grimms means knowing when to back away. He resumes his pacing.

It takes another 2 hours and 37 minutes before they are allowed in to see her, he's counted every one of them. 2 hours and 37 minutes could easily be an eternity as far as he's concerned.

Nurse Sprat pulls Puck and Daphne aside before letting them in. She has a very somber expression on her face.

"We've done all we can for her but I need you to prepare yourselves. The dragons talons contain a very powerful poison, she's got quite a fight ahead of her".

Puck and Daphne exchange an anxious look.

"Is she going to wake up?" Daphne asked.

Nurse Sprat gives them a pitying look.

"There’s a good chance she will".

The fact that she might not seems to linger in the air, unspoken between them.

As they take their seats beside Sabrina's bed, Puck notices tears running silently down Daphne's face.

"Marsh-mellow, your sister is one of the most stubborn people I have ever met. she's not gonna let something like a little dragon poison take her out". It's as much to convince himself as it is to comfort her.

Daphne lets out a watery laugh, she slumps in her chair.

"I hope you're right, Puck".

Sabrina looks terrible. Her skin is pale grey and beaded with sweat. Puck absently takes her hand in his and gives it a squeeze. He wants her to know he's there, wants her to fight her way back to him.

Eventually Daphne succumbs to her exhaustion and falls asleep curled up in her chair but Puck doesn't tear his eyes away from Sabrina. Somewhere in the irrational part of his brain he believes that nothing bad can happen to her while he watches over her. So he watches the shallow rise and fall of her chest until his eyes sting.

He takes in every part of her appearance as though hes trying to commit her to memory. The freckle just bellow her jaw. Her golden hair tucked behind unusually small ears. Her long fingers. Her eyelashes.

Just this morning she was sticking her tongue out at him as she climbed out of his bed. She'd thrown on one of his sweatshirts and sneaked back into her own room. She was so full of life, just this morning, a lifetime ago.

Now she might die with him never having told her he loves her.

He's sure she knows. Well, He thinks she knows. He hopes she knows, but he's never said it. Where he comes from vulnerability is something to take advantage of and showing somebody yours is like telling them where to hurt you and handing them a weapon. He can see now that he's been a coward.

He's never told her that he loves her and now he might never get the chance.

He's reminded by every beat of his own heart.

Beat.

she might die.

Beat.

she might die.

Beat.

She might die.

She isn't exactly his girlfriend. The word girlfriend doesn't feel like enough to describe what she is to him. Its not big enough. She's probably his best friend, his partner in crime, his favorite person to tease. She's the first person he goes to when he has a problem and the first he turns to when he needs help to create problems. She is home and safety and danger all wrapped up in a 5 foot frame.

He trusts her with his life and it's about time he trusted her with his heart too.

He stands up and leans over her, running a hand through her hair. He presses his lips to her ear and whispers so quietly it can barely be heard at all.

"I love you, Sabrina".

He promises himself he'll tell her again if she wakes up. No-, when she wakes up.

Eventually the sound of her shallow breath lulls him into an almost hypnotic trance. He watches her chest.

Rise.

Fall.

Rise.

Fall.

He doesn't know how long he's been staring, probably hours. The first orange rays of sunrise are lighting the room before a rasping cough cuts through the air.

"My eyes are up here, jerkface" Sabrina's voice is weak and hoarse.

Pucks face snaps up to look at hers so quickly he can feel his neck twinge. But he doesn't care, the feeling of relief coursing through his body is dizzying and his eyes start to sting with hot tears. He can't seem to find his voice.

Sabrina's eyes close but she chuckles dryly.

"If I had known all it took to shut you up was nearly dying, I would have picked a fight with a dragon years ago" she jokes weakly.

He discreetly wipes his eyes on his sleeve.

"Yeah, well, don't expect this kind of special treatment every time" its meant to be a joke but his voice doesn't sound right.

Sabrina opens her eyes, looking at him with mild concern.

"That bad, huh?" She asks.

"You came pretty close to croaking" he confirms "Gave the Marsh-mellow quite a scare".

Daphne lets out a rattling snore, as if in response to him.

Sabrina nods almost imperceptibly. Her eyes are beginning to close again.

Its now or never. Before she slips back into sleep.

"Oh, and by the way, Grimm" he starts casually "I love you".

#the sisters Grimm #puckabrina #pidge writes #please be nice I am out of practice #sisters grimm

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ohjinkiesxx · 3 years

Text

is that lost on you? || Self Para

❝ I hate you for what you did & I miss you like a little kid. I have emotional motion sickness. Somebody roll the windows down. There are no words in the English language I could scream to drown you out. ❞

Place: Elias, Shaggy’s apartment that she so happens to be at 24/7

When: June 12th, 2021

Tw: shitty parents? anxiety.

Since moving to Elias Velma rarely heard from her parents. and if they did it was only to wish her happy birthday or to reprimand her on her grades that didn’t exceed their expectations. It got to a point where every vibration of her phone set off her anxious tendencies. Friends like Kiara and Shaggy got to witness the brunt of her trauma firsthand when she had first arrived to Elias. Over the years Velma had to go through a lot of self love and patience to realize that it was okay that she wasn’t perfect. She didn’t have to exist just to please people, even if they were her parents. So once Velma graduated to college she began ignoring calls from back home altogether. It wasn’t worth the time nor the stress to worry how her parents felt about her living her own life. It was a hard decision to push them away. She still loved her mom and dad but they needed boundaries for their relationship to work. If they ever wanted a relationship with their daughter they’d have to work on themselves first.

Lately her parents were the last thing of her mind. She had Daphne and Shaggy to keep her occupied. She wanted to put more effort into her relationships with her childhood best friends because they were the only ones who ever really understood her. Fred was still a work in progress though. Either way she was happy. Truly genuinely happy.

It was a normal night at home, like any other. She finished her papers and left her desk in an unorganized mess. She figured she’d binge Netflix until Shaggy got home from his shift. After spending so many nights together it was hard to sleep in their bed without him. He became a big source of Velma’s comfort and security. It wasn’t all lonely though. She had Scoob to keep her company on some nights. Velma crawled into the couch resting her head on the armrest as Scooby joined her and laid between the back of her legs and the cushions. There was barely any room to move but she didn’t mind. “Either we need a bigger couch or you’ve gotten bigger Scoob.” Velma spoke to the dog and began to give him under the chin scratches. Once she was comfortable and she had her show on she could barely keep her eyes open any longer. Under estimating how exhausted she was. It wasn’t long before she was consumed by sleep.

Bzzz! Bzzz! Bzzz!

Quickly Velma was awoken by the sound of her phone vibrating against the oak of the coffee table. Rubbing her eyes she quickly glanced around the room. Scooby had long since left her side and Shaggy still wasn’t home. Swiping her phone from the table she answered it without hesitation or reading the caller information. She had assumed it was Shaggy. He usually always called her when he was on his way home. “Are you on your way home?” Velma hummed sleepily into the speaker.

“Velma? You haven’t been answering my calls.” Immediately her stomach dropped. Knowing from the first spoken word that it was her mother on the other end of the line. Velma quickly sobered up and sat straight up as if she were sitting on pins and needles. “Uh-yeah. Sorry mom I’ve been busy with school.” Which wasn’t a complete lie. but she had other distractions. “Mmm.” Her mother quickly mused. “Yes and with the Rogers boy it seems..” She retorted her voice laced with venom. Velma could already sense where this conversation was heading. Her mother hadn’t called to check up on her only daughter. No, she was angry that she didn’t have a tight reign on her daughter anymore. Velma had recently posted a few pictures of her and Shaggy on Instagram recently. Hinting in the captions of the pictures that they were in item. “He has a name mom. And so what If I am? What does it matter to anyone but me?” Velma hadn’t meant for her tone to be just as vicious but she was tired of defending her friends especially Shaggy. “Do you know what they are saying back home about you? My daughter with that idiot? Have you truly not learned your lesson? You know better. I raised you not to hang out with those meddling friends of yours.”

Velma’s blood was boiling at this point. She had no right to comment on her boyfriend or her right to have a relationship with him. Her fingers gripping the edge of her seat so tightly that her knuckles faded to white. She stopped herself from saying something she’d regret later. Besides something her mother had said caught her off guard. “Lesson? What do you mean lesson?” She asked hesitantly feeling in that moment as if she didn’t want to know the answer at all.

Her mother paused. There was silence between them for a moment. Her mother took in a small inhale of air through her nose before she continued. “You wouldn’t listen Velma. Your father and I had high hopes for your future but you kept hanging out with the wrong crowd...”

“Mom...” Velma interjected, her heart beating fast against her chest now.

“Those kids. They were no good for you, surely you know that? They aren’t even on your level. You’re much smarter than them, you needed to be with your own peers. People who understood you intellectually. But you kept rebelling against our wishes. We had to intervene.”

“Mom. What did you do?” Velma asked tears already stinging her eyes as if she already knew the answer. It was something Velma had often wondered about but never got a genuine answer too.

“You needed to learn your lesson. So your father and I took initiative. You’d only be rewarded when you were ready to act like an adult. So we hid your Harvard acceptance from you.”

There it was. The answer Velma had always wondered about. Why Harvard had never contacted her back. She was never sent an e-mail or letter about her application. It was like she hadn’t sent one in at all. It was her dream to attend Harvard. It was her only dream as a teen that her parents couldn’t take away. and yet they still did. Velma couldn’t believe it momentarily. Laughing as if it were some sort of twisted joke. What kind of parents would take away their childs privilege to attend a prestigious school to further her education? What kind of monsters would take away their Childs happiness in order to be taught a lesson?

From her mothers silence she quickly realized it had been the truth. Velma couldn’t even speak, her throat becoming suddenly dry. She was hurt but it was a common feeling her parents often left her with. If one thing was for sure she was going to stand up for herself. She’d no longer tolerate being trampled on. Even if that meant not having a relationship with her parents at all. It wasn’t worth keeping ties just for the sake of blood.

“That’s the most fucked up thing I’ve ever heard. Do you have any sort of maternal instinct in you? Or are you completely avoidant of basic human empathy?” She spat.

“Velma Dinkley! How dare you speak to your mother like that! Maybe you should come home. Elias is obviously brainwashing you along with the trash you carry around with you that you call friends.”

“No, you don’t get to ‘Velma Dinkley’ me. Not after what you did. I’m sorry but you’re not in control anymore and I bet that drives you absolutely mad. You know I could stoop to your level. Make you feel awful like you’ve always made me feel growing up. But I will spare you of that because I simply don’t have the time nor the patience for it. You must be terribly jealous. At least I have friends. What do you have mom? A husband who abides your wishes blindly? A cold home to parade around in? A kid who can barely stand to be around you? Yeah, I’m missing out on so much, huh? I have people who love me here. They don’t care what grades I make or how I dress. They just want me to be happy. That’s the least I could say for you. Goodbye mom. Talk to me when you actually care, yeah?”

With that Velma quickly hung up on her mother and tossed her phone to the other side of the couch. Her phone quickly began to vibrate again. Leaning to the side she grabbed her phone and turned it to silent immediately. Once the room was quite it felt like she could breathe again.

Even though her relationship with her parents had never been great, it still hurt. Her childhood had never been normal. She wasn’t allowed to play or hang out with kids her age. She was constantly being pushed to learn the next new thing or studying for another final. She saw the signs but Velma had always assumed that they were just strict parents who wanted the best for their little girl. Obviously she was wrong. It was on that day Velma vowed that if she were ever to have kids she’d only shower them with unconditional love. It didn’t matter what their dreams were or what they wanted to be or who they loved. She’d love them no matter what.

Velma hadn’t noticed she’d been crying until she noticed how hot her cheeks had gotten. Using her sleeve of her hoodie to quickly swipe them away. They weren’t worth her tears away. Desperately hoping Shaggy would come home at any second. He always knew how to make her feel better. It didn’t matter if her parents disowned her. Shaggy was her family and that was all that mattered.

#my own mommy issues coming out in this one folks #oops #anyway this has been in the works for awhile.#i just never got the chance to write it down #but you heard it here first folks #velmas parents hid her harvard acceptance just bc she was hanging out with the mystery gang and they didn't like it :)#parents amirite #{Velma Closed Para;}#{Velmas Memories;}#tw: anxiety #tw: family truama

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butterfly-winx · 4 years

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Seen a lot of talk about relationships in people’s rewrites, and I wanted to share my headcanons for the “butterfly fic” AU! (I’m currently going on an S6+ timeline, so the story starts off with all canon couples and then... crumbles from there)

Bloom x Sky: The two of them got together for real at the end of S2 in this timeline, after the identity shrouding/theft both of them pulled made their start rocky. They both understand why the other did it, but it doesn’t make it any better or easier to bear after months of insecurity, thinking they would be dumped eventually when the truth came out. S3 though S4 they are well off, but then the whammy hits when Sky loses his memories during the oil rig rescue mission. He still knows Bloom and that he loves her, but even after a year he doesn’t feel like he can recover the version of his self that he has been before. Bloom tries to assure him as best as she can, showing him that she can learn how to love the “new” him as well. Their lives end up on hugely different trajectories that lead to their relationship slowly crumbling over the S8 timeline, during which Bloom is going crazy worries about her sanity and reliability (👀). Bloom also slowly finds herself developing feelings for Stella after the other confesses. In the end Bloom and Sky go their separate ways amicably.

Stella x Brandon: So, Stella confesses to Bloom, then how does SxB work out? Well, both Stella and Brandon are home of sexuals in a mutually beneficial fake relationship. They did date of course back in the S1-2 time, fully conforming to what society expected of people of their standing. Stella believed as long as she could find a guy ok enough to settle with, everything would be fine. She could be happy. Brandon on the other hand was a bit more aware of his crush on Sky, but he though if he hid behind a relationship with a conventionally feminine and attractive girl he could squash all rumours and budding feelings. Internalised homophobia is a bitch that did a number on both of them. Though this is not to say there are no real emotions between them. Stella loves Brandon deeply, they consider each other their respective closest friend. In that vein, Stella would do anything to make life as stable and comfortable for Brandon - after his childhood had been less so - including marrying him to make him a prince. Since Solaria supports polyamory, this comes at no additional strain for her. His presence in the meantime wards off other suitors and creeps, for which she is very thankful, as it gives her space to figure out her feelings about Bloom. And oooh does she have many. She eventually confesses during the S8 timeline, but has to wait quite a while for a positive response, after which Stella and Brandon both come clean about the nature of their relationship to the rest of the world. In the end, Stella is lucky enough to celebrate not one, but two fun weddings.

Brandon: He gets his own column, because his story goes on separate from Stella’s. While the engagement to Stella is still on the table in the S6 timeline, Brandon struggles both with his crumbling team of Specialists and his feelings about the new recruit. Alright, he did not recruit Roy to the team because he thought he was cute. Brandon thinking that and low-key flirting with him came after they settled on the addition to their team. But BxR doesn’t have a long future after Roy believes Brandon cheated on Stella by sleeping with him. Plus his tension with Layla eventually lead to Roy leaving the team mid S7. Long after that, Brandon gets over his crush for Sky, just when Sky is in the middle of a life crisis and Brandon tries his best not to get sucked in too deep again, but that hurts Sky and irreparably damages the close friendship they had before.

Flora x Helia: Ah yes, unproblematic faves. Don’t change what isn’t broken. (Their S5 trouble isn’t about Flora being jealous about a literal teenager, but rather about her shock of him being so willing to close off and leave behind people from different stages of his life.) The two of them would be set for marriage if such a custom existed on Lynphea, but they definitely plan on raising a family on planet once that is an option again.

Timmy x Techna: Equally low drama zone. They felt a bit pushed together when they first got acquainted as their friends started to date each other. Techna was having their gender identity crisis for the majority of S2 so a relationship was furthest away from their mind. They softly flirted in S3 as they grew closer, which as we know ended in Timmy losing his marbles when Techna got sucked into the Omega portal. He confessed right as the rescue mission was still happening and the two of them have been going strong since then. In S5 they even move together, which Musa joins in S6 (they had a two bedroom flat, just in case they needed the extra space from each other, when/if things weren’t working out, but they were using only the one bedroom anyway, so Musa was welcome there) Surprising everyone who knew them, Timmy and Techan were actually the first ones to get married. After Timmy’s family was becoming more and more hostile, denouncing him for his choice of career, Techna thought it was the most logical thing to get married and grant Timmy much better social security. The two of them plus Musa living together were falling into a tooth-rottingly cute domesticity, until life got unexpectedly difficult.

Musa x Riven: The drama central couple that never should have gotten together. In retrospect everything was super clear to Musa: they had gotten together after Riven had rescued her from Shadowhaunt, playing the hero he had always wanted to be - this streak for glory being the thing that ruined their relationship down the road. Riven’s insecurity got the best of him during S5 and he couldn’t stop comparing himself to Sky, feeling helpless even beside Musa herself. She of course was incredibly offended her boyfriend only wanted her as long as she was waifish and he could swoop in for the rescue, so as soon as Domino was restored the two of them broke up, Riven going his own way, away from the Specialist team itself. Reflecting over the mistakes of her relationship cause Musa to realise she was forcing herself to like a lot of things about Riven, and maybe she was actually also interested in women as well. Layla welcomes her to the wlw world and suggests Musa put herself out there. However Musa doesn’t find love anytime soon (not like there weren’t options out there, like Galatea would go on a date with her in a heartbeat if Musa only asked) And then after moving together with Techna and Timmy, the three of them fall asleep on the same couch one too many times for Musa to start thinking there might be something there, a bit more than just friendship.. and then of course she ruins it, cause....

Riven x Darcy: He enters the story again in the S8 timeline, and disappears quickly again after Flora gives him the worst advice of her life (that she thought he looked genuinely happy with Darcy, hoping he wouldn’t force the thing with Musa). So he goes looking for Darcy, unintentionally setting off the whole plot for this arc, because Darcy is not where she should be prison and she is not there on her own accord. Darcy and Riven continue to have a thing on and off (seeing as she is a wanted criminal and shit) and that drives Musa up the wall. She may or may not still have feelings for Riven. Upset, she looks for an outlet with her quarantine mate, and that ladies and gents, is bad decision central

Stormy x Musa: Bad decision central. A drunken one night stand, let’s not talk about it anymore.

Layla x Nex: A sweet one sided crush that goes nowhere. Nex tries, but Layla is nowhere near ready to date again when he steps into her life in S7. He takes the rejection with dignity and the two of them try to remain friends, as best as they can, when Nex suddenly becomes the biggest critic of Layla’s chosen relationship in S8 (he means well of course, and once again, despite the Riven-vibes he gives off, he knows when to shut up).

Layla x Orion: A girl can only handle so much flirting on galactic starsailers before she starts noticing a kind of chemistry she tried to suppress from budding for years after a huge personal loss. Are LxO a match made in heaven? Probably not, but they offer interesting perspectives to each other and are both happy with a casual relationship at that point. Things get tense about a year in when Layla pitches that she does want something more permanent and Orion’s first instinct is to nope out of there. But despite themself, Orion has to realise they really like Layla way too much just to let her go because of their attachment issues. The actual relationship between them is a bit on hold until after everything in the Universe is sorted, but in the meantime Orion becomes the biggest supporter of Layla going her own way and exploring independence away from what people expect of her. Deciding that being a nymph and protecting the whole Universe is way more important to her than following the path the circumstances of her birth set out for her, Layla eventually settles with her partner sailing the winds of the cosmos.

Daphne x ?: Immortal Queen. Needs no one in life except maybe her right-hand woman to lean on 👀

Some one-sided crushes that went nowhere, but were sweet anyway:

Musa x Layla: not a secret that Musa had a thing for Layla when she transferred to Alfea in S2

Sky x Riven: Due to his amnesia, Sky idiotically forgot he was already out as bi and had a whole crisis, as he developed a tiny crush on Riven of all people

Icy x Tritannus: Gets an honourable mention here because it wasn’t true love, but obsession with power on both sides

Musa x Stella: Not as pronounced as Musa’s other crushes, but on the down low she always softly admired Stella and it turns out what she felt wasn’t envy like internalised societal expectations made her believe

Diaspro x Sky: Once again, a bit more obsessive than loving. Diaspro saw Sky like a lifeline and she hyperfocused on being able to call a husband her own. After her betrayal and prison time she mellows out, gets pardoned and gets a kind of “stupid, but loving” bf who would kiss the floor she walks on.

#winx club #winx ships #winx bloom #winx stella #winx layla #winx flora #winx musa #winx techna #worldbuilding #butterfly fic #everybody makes horrible decisions in this au #why am I like this?#me at characters: suffer puppet!#just kidding most of them get a happy ending

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the-cult-of-russo · 3 years

Text

Push and Pull (Part 9)

Pairing: Matt Murdock x OC

Warnings: cursing, mentions of injury etc.

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What she thought would be a small nap turned into sleeping until the next morning. When Daphne woke up, she didn't move as her eyes fluttered open. Every inch of her hurt like a bitch and her shock had turned to anger. She could hear a whispering coming from behind her in the kitchen area and she stayed completely still as she listened.

"Jesus christ, Matt. When you told me what happened I didn't expect for her to look like she was mauled by a goddamn bear!" Foggy hissed frantically, trying to keep his voice low.

"I told you she was attacked," Matt started, his voice quieter and calmer than his friends.

"I know you did, but have you seen her? What did that asshole do to her?" Foggy honestly sounded like he was about to have an aneurism. She heard a sigh that came from Matt.

"Look, Foggy-" he tried, only to be interrupted again.

"Don't 'look Foggy' me. This shit is insane! And you said Brett hasn't even found the dude yet!" Foggy hissed again. Her heart dropped at that news. He must have left before the cops got there.

"I know but there isn't much we can do-" he was once again cut off by a panicked Foggy.

"There's a knife-wielding dad killer out there, Matt! He's insane. This whole thing is just… she could have died!" If she was honest, it touched her a little by how upset Foggy was by all of this. He seemed to be taking this friend thing seriously.

"I'm well aware," Matt stated plainly. He sounded like he was starting to get irritated.

"Oh, you're well aware. How great. Are you even concerned at all? I'm over here having a damn panic attack and you're just chill! Were you not even worried when she turned up here half dead?!" Foggy glowered accusingly.

"Of course I was worried, Foggy! I didn't even know how bad it was or if I'd be able to help her! I didn't sleep at all last night just to make sure she was breathing!" She didn't know how to feel about him watching over her like that. She hadn't expected that kindness. She hadn't even done that for him when he got shot.

"Quit your goddamn lecture because now isn't the time to talk about this!" Matt hissed harshly.

"Why the hell not?!" Foggy demanded.

"Because she's awake," Matt answered tensely.

Busted. She didn't know what tipped him off. She wondered if it was how her breathing changed when she woke and throughout their whispered argument or her heartbeat. Either way was creepy. She opted not to say anything and she honestly didn't think she could sit up unassisted with the pain she was in. She heard footsteps coming to the living area and Foggy plonked down in the chair. She was expecting a fake smile on his face with a cheerful greeting but she was met by a worried glance and silence. She didn't like it.

"Here. Coffee, toast and some pain meds," Matt murmured softly as he set the things on the coffee table. Then without her even having to ask, he helped her to sit. She groaned, gripping her wound on her lower abdomen as the stitches jolted.

"Motherfucker," she moaned with a frown. She didn't think she'd ever been this banged up before.

"Sorry. Try not to move too much. It'll be easier once you've had the pills," Matt said carefully. She nodded, grabbing the pills and washing them down with the coffee that was still kind of hot. She didn't know how Matt knew she liked cream and sugar but she couldn't care less right then.

"Brett didn't find him?" She bit out. It only caused her anger to swell. This asshole murdered his own father, a good man that didn't deserve this. She didn't even care about her attack in the grand scheme of things. She needed justice for Mr Lee. Matt sighed heavily, wiping a hand over his face. Foggy finally decided to speak.

"When they got to the scene, he was gone. But they're processing it which is good and they've got people looking for him. With your evidence and statement, once they catch him he's as good as locked up," Foggy stated sounding confident. More confident than the frantic whispering from the kitchen. She just nodded again. She really hoped they'd find the asshole.

"You need to eat. You lost a lot of blood and you need to heal," Matt uttered as he pushed the plate of toast towards her more. She felt sick and she really wasn't hungry. But she refused to lay about feeling sorry for herself. She wanted to heal ASAP so she reluctantly ate a few pieces of the toast. The silence as she ate was unbearable, like no one knew what to say as the heaviness weighed on them. Weirdly enough she found herself somewhat happy she wasn't on her own right then.

"I need to get to the station, drop my shit off and give my statement," she sighed once she was done, wiping the crumbs from her hands.

"Might wanna get changed first," Foggy teased weakly. She glanced down for the first time and blanched. Her shirt was ripped to shreds and was soaked in blood. She didn't know how she was even functioning with how much blood she must have lost. Her jeans were also blood stained although the brunt of it was taken by her shirt.

"You can have something of mine," Matt said softly as he stood. She watched him as he opened the door to his room. She'd be impressed by how easy he navigated his home but she'd seen him fight. The stick was just an act for everyone else's benefit. He might not see like everyone else but he saw things in his own way.

He came back a moment later with some black sweat pants and a black t-shirt. They'd be big but she'd cope. She just wanted to see Brett.

"Thanks," she shot him a weary smile that he returned as she took them. When she went to stand, she made a pained noise, squeezing her eyes shut. This would be hard. Foggy jumped up though, she wondered if he just felt like he needed to do something. To be helpful.

"Come on, I'll walk you to the bathroom," he smiled. He helped her stand and she was unsteady to her feet. With his help she managed to make it to the bathroom. She closed the door once she got in and listened to Foggy retreat back to Matt in the living room.

She gasped when she saw her reflection. She knew it would be bad but this wasn't what she expected. The left side of her face was a giant bruise, her cheekbone swollen. She had a split lip and hand prints around her throat. Her arms had numerous small slices and she knew her chest had a couple too as well as the deep gash on her stomach. She looked like she stepped right off the set of a horror movie. She wasn't surprised that Foggy freaked out when he saw her. At first she felt sad. Knowing she would scar, that Mr Lee's psycho spawn had marked her forever. A reminder of how she'd failed him because she was a self absorbed bitch. But then her anger flared. Matt’s words from the day before were on a loop in her brain like a mantra. Even if she had told Mr Lee, this would have happened. And she held the evidence to help put the prick away. Maybe the only reason she crossed paths with Mr Lee was so she could make sure he got justice.

After gathering herself, she realised she had a problem. She could barely function, let alone undress and get changed. She loathed asking anyone for help but she wasn't stubborn enough to hurt herself more by trying. Heaving a sigh, she shuffled over and opened the door.

"Uh… I need some help," she murmured with a grimace. She felt so awkward. Foggy was a new friend that she was trying to adjust to and Matt was… well he was Matt. But she was grateful for everything he'd done for her. And now they were even and she could close that chapter and hoped neither of them would need the other’s help after this.

"What do you need?" Foggy asked as he came into view, Matt trailing behind him.

"I can't… I can't get undressed. Or dressed," she snorted ruefully, gesturing to the bundle of clothes in her arms. Foggy's eyes widened and he glanced from her to Matt.

"I-I can help… if you need me to-" he started looking uncomfortable but she shook her head to stop him.

"At the risk of sounding like a bitch, Matt’s blind so… I'd kinda feel better if he helped me," she said carefully.

Matt swallowed thickly with a nod as Foggy looked relieved.

"Great! I mean… okay. I'll just…" he scurried off back to the living area and she snorted softly at him. Matt stayed silent as he walked inside the bathroom, closing the door behind him for privacy. It still wasn't ideal. He couldn't see with his eyes but he wasn't a typical blind person. But it was better than nothing.

"I'll try to be careful but this might hurt a little," he muttered apologetically. She nodded as he took the clothes from her and set them by the sink.

He made good on his promise to be careful as he expertly manoeuvred her shirt over her head with minimal pain. She was starting to feel uncomfortable with the weird silence dangling over them as he worked on her jeans.

"What's the mirror for? I mean you can't see so…" it came out much worse than it sounded in her head and she mentally facepalmed. She didn't know why it was so hard to just be civil with him. It was much easier being a bitch. She was caught off guard when he let out a surprised laugh.

"That sounded better in my head. I promise I'm not actually trying to be a bitch," she huffed a laugh of her own.

"It's fine. It's a valid question. Foggy made me get it, he's always trying to get me to put stuff in here for when he visits. He's been trying to get me to get a TV," he grinned up at her as he tugged her jeans down her legs.

"I think he just wants you to buy it so he doesn't have to," she mused playfully.

"That's what I said," he chuckled.

She was suddenly aware she was standing in her underwear and she was grateful he couldn't see her blush. When did she blush? She wasn't shy of the opposite sex. She rolled her eyes at herself as Matt helped her step into his sweatpants. She at least was capable of tightening the drawstrings so they didn't slip off. She winced a little as he manoeuvred the shirt over her head. It was a little big but it was way better than her now ruined one. Next he helped her with her boots.

"There you go," he gave her a hesitant smile and she swallowed thickly.

"Thanks… for this and… saving my life," she murmured sincerely. He nodded, pursing his lips a little.

"Like you said last night, now we're even," he smirked.

"Yeah, except I didn't keep vigil when you slept," she pointed out. Maybe she was feeling more like herself today since she noticed he looked down, seemingly caught off guard. He probably hoped she hadn't heard that part.

"You were in pretty bad shape. I couldn't sleep and I figured I'd just make sure you were still breathing," he shrugged as he opened the door

"Careful, Devilboy. It's starting to sound like you care. What do you think we are? Friends?" She asked with a sly smirk. He chuckled, wrapping an arm around her to help her walk into the living area.

"Something like that," he replied quietly.

"You look a lot better. More 'wearing my boyfriends clothes' than 'murder scene chic'," Foggy beamed at her. She snorted and rolled her eyes. She knew she still probably looked weird wearing Matt’s clothes and her boots but they were comfy honestly. Besides, nothing would stick out as much as her injuries. She watched as Foggy slung her backpack over his shoulder so she didn't have to carry it and she almost jumped when a hoodie was suddenly presented to her by Matt. He helped her into it but she left it unzipped. It was cozy and soft.

She was anxious now to see Brett and she watched with little patience as the boys got ready to leave. She didn't remember when Matt changed from his own sweats to his lawyer suit. It was Sunday and this wasn't really work and she wondered if he always wore a suit when he wasn't at home or if we just worked all the time. Matt slipped his glasses on and grabbed his cane before walking over. He linked his arm with her and she wondered how funny it would look when they went outside. Both of them were patient as they went down the stairs with her and she was grateful as they took turns to help her. She hated feeling so dependent on anyone and she couldn't wait to hurry up and heal.

"Thank Jesus," she breathed once they got outside. It felt like it took ten hours to get down the stairs.

"I prefer to go by Foggy most days. But it's Sunday so I'll allow it," Foggy grinned teasingly. She let out an elegant snort.

"Blasphemous," Matt tutted with a wry smirk. She wasn't sure now what the plan was. She struggled to walk on her own completely but knew Matt usually held Foggy's arm. She just stood there waiting for a cue on what to do. She watched as Matt readied his cane and then he glanced at her, extending his arm for her to link her own. She smiled gratefully, linking her arm and using him as an anchor to steady herself.

"Alright, off to the station we go. I should've brought snacks, this'll take a while," Foggy murmured thoughtfully.

She wasn't sure how long it took them to walk to the station but it was longer than she'd like. But once again they were patient and Matt had been steady as he walked beside her, guiding her which she found ironic. Foggy held open the door for them as they got there.

"Ladies first," he shot Matt a sly smirk and Matt scoffed as he shot his head.

"I'm sorry, please tell us what your favourite show is again?" Matt retorted. Foggy squinted at him as they walked through the door.

"The real housewives of Beverly Hills is interesting and entertaining!" Foggy defended firmly. She had to purse her lips to stop herself from laughing.

"Holy shit, D! What in the fresh hell?" the voice snapped her out of the surprisingly chill moment she was having with the wonder twins as Brett stormed over. He was looking at every inch of her with concern etched on his features and she gave him a careful smile.

"Asshole really did a number on me," she replied ruefully. She didn't want it made into a bigger deal than it was. The focus wasn't about her but Mr Lee instead.

"You're telling me," he muttered, raking his teeth over his lower lip.

"Any word?" Matt asked firmly. His no nonsense lawyer voice on. The heaving sigh that left Brett's lips told her no.

"No yet but we got eyes out looking for him. Don’t worry, we'll get him," he gave her a meaningful look and she nodded gratefully.

"I've got all the pictures in my bag. You want me to give my statement now?" She asked softly. Foggy passed the backpack to Brett who called another cop over to take it.

"Yeah. Get it done now and then you can rest while we find this asshole," he affirmed. She took a shaky step forward on her own and Matt hovered over her like he was ready to catch her. Brett moved over and linked his arm with hers.

"I got it from here. You boys can go on home, I'll drive her home when we're done," Brett said as he started walking with her.

"Thanks guys," she smiled over her shoulder. Foggy grinned at her and Matt just sent her a solemn nod. They'd actually had decent interactions for once. Maybe it was because she was injured. She wasn't on top form to be such a bitch and maybe he felt bad. She did appreciate him saving her ass even if it was to pay her back.

#matt murdock x oc #matt murdock fanfic #matt murdock #daredevil x oc #daredevil fanfiction #daredevil

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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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