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amphtaminedreams · 4 years ago

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A/W 2020 Fashion Month & Top 20 Collections: Before Vogue Went Blank (Part 4)

Hi all,

Welcome to part 4! It’s gonna be a bit of a shorter one because I wasn’t sure if I could fit the last few collections into my part 3 since I also want to include a ranking of my favourite F/W20 shows. I have so many ideas for what I’d like my next few posts to be (there’ll probably be a bit of gap between them as I would like to try and get some fiction writing in too) and I need help and recommendations on one post in particular so I thought I’d open by explaining that if anyone would like to send me suggestions! The post is basically going to highlight the often under-appreciated personal style of PoC, and I’d also like to make sure I include all types of bodies and genders and ethnicities (other than white girls, as we get enough credit as it is, all a tall, skinny blonde woman has to do is wear some light wash jeans, heels and a blouse and high fashion Twitter are posting non-stop about how incredible her style is)! This can be a celebrity, a model, an influencer or even just one of your friends if you think they deserve some hype too! Obviously there’s only so many photos I can include but I will make sure to look at any suggestions, though of course I’m gonna be biased towards the grungier looks; I gave Dolls Kill a pass for a long time because I thought the brand had changed and become more responsible over the last few years but since Shoddy Lynn’s thoughtless Instagram post during the protests last month and then her lacklustre response video, I say fuck that “goth is white” bullshit, alternative black women are hot af. I’ll also make sure to include a list of my favourite black owned clothing lines I’ve seen people talking about on Twitter and Instagram so again, if you have any suggestions feel free to inbox me. Other than that, I have a couple of lookbooks planned and after, either a post about my favourite shows for style inspiration OR a lookbook depending on whether I have the clothes to do it already/can source a few things from Depop-Depp-I’ve made a commitment not to buy anything new for the next couple of months and I want to stick to that this time round! I’d also like to do a general collation of my favourite summer outfits, an almost scrapbook-y kinda post, and another post on some of my favourite fashion icons (I’ll probs end up repeating a lot of the women from the post I was talking about above but I’ll try and include different outfits to keep it varied!).

Now, into the final part, and the top 20, starting with Tory Burch (I’m really pissed off because I added an unnecessary E in after the R and now Tumblr is once again being stupid and not saving any of my editing changes-also I said on the next post instead of in in the last paragraph and my anal-retentiveness is kicking into high gear).

You’d think it’s a kinda anti-climatic one to open with but I do like this collection! It reminds me a bit of last season’s Miu Miu but more so of Brock’s general aesthetic, though with more layers and in some ways to its detriment, a lot more wearable. Looking like something from a bygone era is part of what gives Brock its mystique, but Burch’s designs are practically made for the Chelsea born and bred lifestyle blogger who dresses for a cold spell in the Coachella valley all year long and treats trawling Pimlico’s furniture shops and meeting their girlfriends for coffee like it’s a full-time job. She’s probably born into money and doesn’t work all that hard but hey, she looks angelic holding a bouquet of flowers and in 2020 we all low-key want her life, right? It’d go against my ethics but...*whispers* it would be nice to be that girl just for a couple of days. It is a gorgeous collection, with a lush colour palette and an ever graceful variety of prints and textures, and it toes the line of being accessible and being worthy of a fashion week spot with dexterity. 8/10 and it only loses marks because it’s safe for the brand.

When it comes to Valentino, they’re a pretty reliable favourite for me, and this season’s collection doesn’t break tradition; this one is slightly grittier than usual too which is a big win for me. Whilst the usual sophistication and delicate details are there, quirky embroidery, sequins and tulle, we also get a lot of leather and more black than usual, which I pray doesn’t a herald a return to people thinking “I only own black clothes and listen to Artic Monkeys” is a personality trait. I don’t know if it’s intentional, but there seems to be a lot of aquatically inspired pieces in this collection too; the 3d roses resemble scales to me (and are a really unique texture), and the way the tulle is placed kinda reminds me of fins and has a mermaid on land feel. It wouldn’t surprise me, since Valentino does tend to draw from nature quite a bit. Highs for me were the Valentino red tulle piece and the tulle pieces in general, of course with the embroidered florals as well which the basic bitch in me always looks forward to. The few lows were concentrated in the leopard print section, a print that for me is really overdone and reminds me of recent Dolce and Gabbana. It was cool when layered with the matching coat but I otherwise could’ve done without it.

Vera Wang is another one of my reliable faves-I think I like this collection even more than the last, it really is a fucking DREAM. The overly floral pieces I wasn’t too keen on but I’ll ignore that on the basis that as with Gucci, the tulle-harness combo is everything I look for in a dress and more. I know manic-pixie-dream-girl is a bit of a slur (not a slur slur but you know what I mean) in terms of the associated character, but this 90s Courtney Love grunge twist on that aesthetic is gold, fully realised big anarchist fairy energy (which is a screen name I’m surprised I don’t see more often and which I might now steal). These dresses were made for someone like Zoe Kravitz or FKA Twigs on the red carpet, and if god forbid I somehow ever ended up on one, I would go to the ends of the earth to be wearing one of the dresses from this collection. Aside from the dresses, I appreciated the moody doesn’t-want-to-be-at-the-family-function teenager inspired sleeves and the 2014 Tumblr Cruel Intentions style knee high socks. Love, love, LOVE it.

So, Versace started off strong with the all black looks-the cut outs were cute if impractical and the fit and flare trousers in particularly were really well fitted (from a distance, at least). I hated the film Red Sparrow but the visuals were very cool, and this section reminded me of that, like a high fashion collection based on Jennifer Lawrence’s character. There were some stunning colour combos in the Ashish like hyper-floral part too, and the houndstooth, marble and Versace tile prints were sick. The black jumper with the flowers on reminds me of a jumper of my nan’s I always wanted that my aunty ended up donating to a charity shop after she died not knowing I liked it. Gutted (not just about the jumper obviously, looool).

HOWEVER, as with many 91 look collections, it was sloppy at times. A lot of pieces I at first liked (I.E the silver dress we saw Kendall Jenner in, included above) are kind of unfinished up close. There was also a big varsity inspired section which was nice at times but got pretty repetitive and occasionally looked like it could pass for Jack Wills or a bad Michael Kors collection. On the whole, it had both its pros and its cons which puts it directly in the middle of the pack.

Victoria Beckham’s collection is near the lower-middle quartile when it comes to plotting the highs and lows of the F/20 collections. The pieces are pretty and accessible, I’d definitely wear them, but they’re predictable and mostly a rip-off of other brands who did something similar in a more interesting way. Though her collections are never really experimental, this one is particularly safe, and she and whoever helped design this season’s pieces were clearly avoiding the edges of the box like a child playing the floor is lava. It’s alright, and I hate coming towards the end of the post with negativity, but I have to be honest, and this just doesn’t really interest me beyond a “yeah, that’s nice” glance.

Vivienne Westwood, on the other hand, is always interesting whether I would actually wear it myself or not. Despite the mix and matchiness that is essential to the deconstructed look, which being the basic bitch I am I often struggle to see past, there were some gorgeous pieces and eurgh, I could really talk about that Bella Hadid look all day. The contrast between the exaggerated femininity of the waist cinchers against the androgyny of the less structured, oversized pieces is a really interesting one and the colour combinations work beautifully together. I also love the idea behind the collection, which is, in the words of Andreas Kronthaler about “rites of spring, and the good and the bad, and conflict, and the good prevailing over evil”. Ahhh, I hear you say. THAT’S what’s with the garlic necklace. Can I get another pat on the back for summing up this collection as “vampire slaying uniform” in my notes? I mean, that’s kind of a good vs. evil situation, isn’t it? I know it’s hard to ignore how hot vampires always are in TV series and movies but just think of the true forms of the ones off Penny Dreadful and remember THEY DRINK BLOOD (I personally think being a vampire would be really cool, just need to work out how to do it “ethically”).

Lastly, Zimmerman, and I really can’t say how happy I am to end on a positive note because this collection was stunning. Not without all the characteristically ornate, indulgent and painstakingly detailed efforts we’ve come to expect from Nicky and Simone Zimmerman, these looks (in an icy winter themed colour palette as well) are the offspring of a sophisticated flower child and a 70s glam rocker and I think with this sentence I’ve finally put my style aspirations into words. Honestly, give me the money to produce a modern day Almost Famous and I’ll make my character this no-nonsense intersectional feminist front woman of a fictional Haim-like band who sings with the voice of an angel but is rock and roll as fuck and eats men for breakfast and I’ll put her in this collection and (deep breath) it would be ICONIC. There. Got to the point eventually. Am I talking about a 2020s version of Steve Nicks? Possibly. After all, I do have a framed illustration of her on my wall. But regardless, I need those lace-up velvet BOOTS, that mesh dress with the celestial embroidery, the flame detail pieces, the white pussy bow blouse with the eyes on it. Everything is sooo dreamy; when I was looking through the collection for my favourites, I saved pretty much every. single. look. IT’S EVERYTHING I STRIVE TO BE. WHY CAN’T I AFFORD ZIMMERMAN GOD DAMN IT!?

See, I’ll be going on about Zimmerman in a couple of paragraphs again because it will be very high in my top 20, which I’m so glad is a top 20 BTW. I know I said it would be a top 10 in my last post because I thought that was how I structured it last time but I double checked and it is 20, which is a relief; once again, picking only 10 collections would be very hard. SO! Let’s get into it!

1. Gucci

I hate being predictable but Gucci once again holds the top spot for me. How could I not love this? I would say that I hope Alessandro Michele fucks up next season so I don’t come off as a boot licker but when the boots in question are platform Mary Janes and knee high socks and they’re underneath tulle with BDSM inspired harnesses on top...maybe boot sole doesn’t taste so bad after all.

2. Zimmerman

Well, I did say it wouldn’t be long until you were seeing the same outfits again, so at least you know my word is good.

3. Moschino

Wow, as if putting Gucci first again wasn’t bad enough, Moschino’s also a non-mover. But...Marie Antoinette this season and Picasso last? And this campy? It’s like Jeremy Scott reached into my brain magician-into-a-top-hat-style, picked out an interest of mine at random, and tried to communicate this to me through the medium of design with THE most chaotic energy humanly possible. I an only commend the man, because he succeeded, and I approve. It’s weird because before I always saw Jeremy Scott’s designs as tacky and yet I’ve loved all the collections I’ve reviewed, so I must ask...are the collections getting less tacky or am I getting more tacky? Much to think about.

4. Vera Wang

The battle armour of a punk princess. Not very good at protecting against knives, arrows, bullets or...anything really, but I’ve never really been the kind of person to get into physical fights (apart with a bouncer who tried to push me down the stairs once at an ABBA night but I was really drunk and she was mean, alright!?), so who cares? Nobody can make you do anything in dresses this pretty.

5. Lanvin

I’m a few years behind everyone else but I’m still on the Mad Men hype train and I don’t ever want to get off. All I wish is that Betty Draper had *SPOILERS* divorced Don’s detty arse earlier and rode off into the sunset in that white Bella Hadid coat with the red lip to match (or the checkered one above will do).

6. Etro

As long as she remains the queen of dreamy bohemian fashion, I’m not gonna do Etro dirty by putting her any lower than this ever again on the basis that she’s not conceptual enough which ashamedly is what I implied in my last ranking-yes, Etro is a she because just as most women deserve more from men, she is beautiful and deserves better than my previous disrespect! I said what I said.

7. Dilara Findikoglu

I see your Thom Browne and your Commes Des Garcons and I raise you my “weird”-though-not-actually-that-weird-at-all-can-we-all-just-dress-like-this-on-a-day-to-day-basis-please? fave, Dilara.

8. Paco Rabanne

Battle armour that actually COULD protect you against knives, arrows, and bullets. Maybe. Well, you’d hope so anyway for the price.

9. Rodarte

Suddenly my phobia of spiders has evaporated. And no, it doesn’t have anything to do with the fact that these ones are diamond encrusted, what are you on about?

10. Alberta Ferretti

The colour combinations in this collection were stunning. Honestly. I just picked a really bad pic to illustrate that. Go read my first post to see (grifting 101: complete)!

11. Charlotte Knowles

I saw Bella Hadi wearing a Charlotte Knowles two piece, so I bought a Charlotte Knowles two piece.

LMAOOO, I wish.

12. Balenciaga

It’s occurred to me a couple of posts too late now on the basis that Tumblr is being a dick and won’t go back and let me edit stuff, even little typos, but I’m now wondering if there’s a link between the climate change theming of the show and the exaggerated structures of the pieces? Ya know, the whole abundance is killing the planet line of thinking? I know analysis isn’t exactly on brand with these silly mini captions and that oversized and exaggerated proportions is one of Balenciaga’s running motifs anyway buuut just a thought I had! And sidenote: I do believe overconsumption is killing the planet! The way I phrased that made it seem like I’m a climate change denying dickhead! That I am not! Maybe if I shave my head, legally change my name to Steve, get a British flag tattoo on my bicep, and spend every waking moment in my nearest Spoons I’ll get there but it’s not on the agenda quite yet!

13. Christopher Kane

If fashionable robots took over the world, they’d raid Christopher Kane’s studio and fry us all with laser beams whilst wearing his dresses.

14. Fendi

Siri, play Vroom Vroom by Charli XCX.

15. Olivier Theyskens

Mandarin collar. Mandarin collar. Mandarin collar. NEXT TIME I WILL REMEMBER WHAT THE PROPER NAME IS INSTEAD OF NEEDING TO GOOGLE IT AGAIN. Come on brain, you’re supposed to be good at this kinda thing, make it happen.

16. Elie Saab

Blair Waldorf’s wet dream. Add in some platform boots and chain jewellery and now it’s my wet dream too.

Because Chuck Bass is creepy as FUCK and maybe it’s because I watched Gossip Girl at the ripe old age (lol) of 21 and most people watch it as teenagers but I don’t know why YOU WERE ALL SO OBSESSED WITH HIM! He tries to sexually assault Jenny who is about 14 in the VERY FIRST EPISODE. I think I went off on a tangent here but it had to be said. You girls have no taste.

Don Draper was an absolute dog, but he was played by Jon Hamm, and he might be one of the finest men on the planet. What’s your excuse, Chuck and Blair enthusiasts?

17. Miu Miu

As someone who has probably been/met many a spoilt brat in her time, I appoint Miu Miu as the official sponsor of the Spoilt Brat™ aesthetic and yeah, that’s something I just made up but I’m on the money here. Imagine one of those “daddy, can you get me a pony?” types all grown up. Are you telling me you don’t picture her in Miu Miu? Because that sounds like a lie.

18. YSL

The war flashbacks I get of the Friends episode where Ross tries to get out of those leather trousers aside (I know it’s PVC her not leather but they have the same sheen, you can’t deny it), these outfits turn me into the irl version of the heart eyes emoji. It’s not like I think this is the best collection I’ve ever seen, YSL could def push the boat out a bit in terms of experimentation, but there aren’t many people who wouldn’t look hot as fuck in one of these pieces

19. Balmain

I didn’t like ALL of it, but the looks that I did like were amongst the ones that stuck out to me most when I was reflecting on the collections I’ve reviewed: the breast plates and silk capes and the scorpion detailing are real chef’s kiss moments.

20. Marques Almeida

Miss the collection that gave us this coat off the list? Never.

SO!

That is the end! Wow! I started saving the photos for this review back in late January/early February or whenever it was that the first fashion week began and now it’s mid-fucking July!? I don’t know if that speaks more to my incompetency or what a state the last few months have been. I’m not gonna write a super long ending paragraph because you’ve heard enough from me already and it’s 2:30am and I’m being hassled by Trump supporters on Twitter (literally just for stating that it’s a privilege to be able to pursue a career you truly have a passion for rather than having to be practical about finances first) anddddd I’ve got a closing shift tomorrow so I should probably log the fuck off and remove my clown makeup before it’s time to start my shift, lol!

Quick recommendation before I wrap this up, there was a really interesting debate on ITV literally a few hours ago on the Stephen Lawrence case that I thought I would recommend (they also showed the 1999 dramatic portrayal of events afterwards) about racism in England and whether or not much has changed since the murder. I didn’t catch the whole thing but from what I did see, there were some really strong points being made and I think it could be a good thing to sit and watch with your family members if you want to get talking about the Black Lives Matter movement and aren’t sure how to broach the topic. I bring it up because I feel like most middle-aged white people trust ITV so they’re less likely to turn their noses up (lol, I wish I was joking) at it and maybe go in with a more open mind. I’d like to keep the conversation about social issues going so if there’s anything you’d like me to get some information together on and make a post about-I read yesterday that there’d been arrests of THE PEOPLE PROTESTING the way Breonna Taylor’s death has been handled. No, not the police officers responsible for her death, the people simply pointing out that those police officers have done wrong. It’s a ridiculous situation and just shows how deeply embedded a police officer’s supposed right to kill and to use force is in upholding the American status quo. I wish I could end the post on better news, but let’s hope that next time I post, there is some, and as always thank you for reading til the end if you did get this far! I really don’t have all that many followers on here but do et me know if there’s anything I can reblog or share to help.

Lauren x

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monstersandmaw · 6 years ago

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Male scarred werewolf x female reader (sfw) - Part One

Edit which I’m including in all my works after plagiarism and theft has taken place: I do not give my consent for my works to be used, copied, published, or posted anywhere. They are copyrighted and belong to me.

This went up on my Patreon as a surprise extra for Valentine’s Day, and I’m gonna put it on here today for you folks.

Also help. I have fallen down a hole marked 'I love this new boy so much' and I can't get out. That's fine. Come and join me.

Anyway, meet Rhett, my newest werewoof, and his pack of adopted doggos. No aesthetic for this one, I’m sorry. I have to write a part two asap, but I’ve got a fantastic commission to finish first for a wonderful Patreon supporter.

_____________

Every Thursday, you bought yourself a bunch of flowers. Every. Single. Thursday.

It had all begun one blustery autumn afternoon, after you’d had the worst first week imaginable at a new job, in a new town, and you’d walked past this little flower shop on your way to the bus stop, and a little bunch of flowers had caught your eye. Ever since that first journey back to your run-down house that still needed so much doing to it, you’d spent a little bit of your salary each week on a bunch of flowers to put in an old, cracked, rusty oil can that served as your flower vase (washed out of course), and it brightened your day every time you came back and saw them.

Valentine’s Day just happened to fall on a Thursday this year, and you knew you were either going to look like you were buying yourself flowers because no one else had - nothing wrong with that, you told yourself - or that you had a date - which you definitely did not. “Ah, screw it,” you muttered as you left work and glimpsed a rather toxic pink looking window-display in the card shop across the road.

Grimacing slightly at the sight of all the glittery pink balloons and hearts, you turned away from commercial Valentine’s hell and strode along the street. It was actually a nice day for once. The early morning fog had burned off and the strengthening sun turned the forget-me-not blue sky deep and endless. The branches of the trees were just beginning to show the first buds of spring, and although frost still lingered in the deeper patches of shade, it was warm enough that you actually took your jacket off and slung it over one arm as you walked.

Right next to the flower shop, you had to pass a garage and workshop, owned by an orc and her half-orc partner, and as you passed, you couldn’t help but look for the familiar and hulking shape of a werewolf who worked there. Impractically, perhaps for him, his coat was a snowy grey, and he nearly always had smudges of engine oil all over it. He took his human form so rarely that you actually couldn't remember if you’d seen him as anything other than a seven foot tall wolf, but it didn't matter. He was gorgeous, with blazing amber eyes, and a big old set of four scars that gashed across his face from one tattered left ear, over his eyes, and down to his muzzle. He must have been in a real scrap to get carved up like that, but you couldn’t help the way your insides flip-flopped around at the sight of him. Your spine would straighten and your shoulders roll back a little more as you walked past him, in the hopes of catching his eye.

That day, he was just straightening up after pushing himself up off the rolling board of the mechanic’s creeper, and as he did so, he caught sight of you, and cracked his head on the underbelly of the car on the lift beside him. With a barely stifled grunt, he turned away and rubbed furiously at it, heading for the garage’s office with his thick, fluffy tail between his legs.

That looked like it’d hurt, and you felt for him and the lump he’d be sporting in a minute or two.

Outside the florist’s, the owner was fixing a beautiful display stand of roses and lilacs, lilies and gardenias. You knew him well by now, and as he glanced up and saw you, his handsome face split into a broad grin, and he waved. “Hi! Ooh, hang on, wait there, don’t move! Just… wait there.”

“What?” you blurted, but the dryad had turned into a shower of cherry blossom petals and swept into his shop before you could react. “Ok then,” you snickered to yourself, turning and shoving your hands into your pockets to wait awkwardly outside the florist’s.

As you moved, you saw the silvery grey werewolf had emerged again, and was watching you from the depths of the garage, and you flashed him a quick smile. You’d often smiled at him as you’d passed, but all he’d done was blink or look away. This time, his tail wagged softly just once, and his lips twitched on one side into a shy, wolfy smile. You wondered idly if he had anyone to go home to today, anyone to buy him flowers, or buy flowers for; anyone to treat him, or to treat. With scars like that, he certainly looked like he could use a little sweetness now, whatever had caused them.

A tap on your shoulder drew your attention away from him, and you turned back to see Maro standing before you, with a colossal bunch of flowers in his arms. “So,” he said, peering around the lobelias and gardenias, his curly, pale pink hair blending almost seamlessly with the bouquet. “This is for you!”

“Wait, what?” you asked, not taking the flowers from him.

He laughed, a sound like a tinkling spring stream, and his already quite narrow eyes closed into a perfect little curved line of pure happiness. When he opened them, they were flaring a lovely bright pink, and the apples of his pale cheeks were flushed too with merriment. “This is too much fun. You have no idea who bought them for you, do you?”

“No,” you said, staring at the gorgeous flowers. “Who…?”

“Ah-ah-ah!” he said, waggling a taunting finger before returning it to steady the teetering bunch. They looked enormously heavy, and his slender body was struggling to hold them. “I promised I wouldn’t tell.”

“But… I don’t know anyone who… who would…?”

“Please,” he scoffed, running his pink eyes up and down your figure. “Also take these now,” he chirped. “They’re heavy.” Then he thrust them at you so that you had to take them before he risked dropping them on the pavement. “You buy flowers here religiously every Thursday. You’re so predictable. I knew he was into you, but I had no idea he’d go this overboard. Gah! It’s hilarious. I wish I could tell you, but I promised, and a spirit never breaks their word.”

You pouted at him over a particularly blousy petal, but he refused.

“You’ll have to guess.”

“Is there a card with it?” He shook his head and you rolled your eyes. “How the hell am I supposed to guess then! Can you give me a clue?”

Maro turned thoughtful, scrunching his pretty lips up and jutting his hips out to one side. He licked his lips and then said cautiously, “Put it this way, I’m glad I gave them to you. If he’d done it, they might be a bit… a bit less pristine?”

You raised an eyebrow and looked back at the flowers. “What, is he like a slime or something?”

Maro barked a laugh that rang off the buildings on your side of the street and even sent a small flock of birds wheeling from a tree overhead. “No,” he said. “No, no slime. Kind of the opposite of slime?”

“The opposite of slime? Slime has an opposite? What the hell, Maro! Just tell me…”

He shook his curly head, grinning. “Nope. I promised.”

“And there’s no message at all?”

“Ah!” he said with melodrama befitting a pantomime performer and raising a finger again. “Ah, now she thinks to ask.”

“You told me there was no note,” you grumped, but he only giggled.

“No written note, but he did say to tell you that he’s seen you buying flowers here, and your smile lights up his day every time, though he regrets not showing you how much of an effect your gesture has on him.”

You turned thoughtful at that, brows pinching. You lowered your nose to the delicate flowers and inhaled softly. “Someone who’s gruff, who sees me everyday and never reacts…” your eyes went wide and you whipped around to find the werewolf from the garage still staring at you from the shadows. “Is it…?”

“Yyyup,” Maro grinned. “And now I take my leave,” he said with a Puck-like bow. “But before I go, give him a chance. He’s a total sweetie despite the face… He was so awkward in my shop, I nearly gave him a box of chocolates, but then I remembered that woofers can’t have chocolate, and I stupidly don’t carry theobromine free chocs yet… I’m working on it though. Anyway, I’m off. Go see your Romeo, sweetheart,” he laughed, vanishing into a puff of petals again and leaving you standing there sporting the largest and heaviest bunch of flowers you’d ever beheld in your entire life.

You peered around them and saw him standing stock still, spine rigid, tail tucked between his huge hind legs, and, in a show of courage you wouldn’t normally expect from yourself, you began to walk towards him with a smile on your face.

As you approached, he dropped from standing on his hind feet to all fours, and then he sat down, curling his thick tail around his legs. “These are from you?” you asked, cursing the way your voice cracked a little. He was much more intimidating up close, mostly because of his sheer size.

He nodded, and you wondered if he could even speak while in his wolf form. You knew some werewolves preferred not to, while others simply couldn’t get their tongues and teeth around human speech.

“Thank you, they’re beautiful,” you said, feeling awkward now.

He swallowed, and looked away before letting his arresting eyes flick back up to your face. “I’m sorry if they’re too much,” he said in a harsh, deep, gritty voice. “I mean… We’ve never even spoken…”

“We’re speaking now,” you smiled, and his ears slanted back in relief, his tail twitching just once.

A shout across the small, oil-stained forecourt made you both jump, and a strangely beautiful looking half-orc, half-tiefling stepped out and barked, “Rhett? Did you finish -? Oh.”

And with that, their eyes lit up, and Rhett, the werewolf in front of you, began to growl a warning, hackles raised.

Biting their lips into a hard, thin line and trying so very hard not to laugh, the newcomer sidled back into the office and closed the door behind them. A moment later a chorus of three separate laughs sailed out and Rhett let out a pained whine. “I knew this was a shitty idea,” he snarled, rising and pacing away.

“Wait!” you called. “It wasn’t! I love them.”

He paused, looking back over his shoulder, still on all fours. Honestly, despite his size, he looked like a kicked puppy. “You don’t have to let me down gently. I’m a big boy. I can take care of myself.”

“I can see that,” you said earnestly. An idea crossed your mind and you toyed with it before just blurting it out. “Has anyone ever taken care of you for a change?”

His eyes went wide at that and then he sneered, “Why, you want to pet the big bad wolf? Please. Just go. Forget I ever made such a fool of myself.”

Tears sprang to your eyes and you just stood there as he padded away. You scowled back at the office and saw three chagrined and horrified faces staring out at you from the window, and you flashed them a snarl of your own. Taking one of the gardenias carefully from the bunch, you laid it down on the garage forecourt, and then turned and left, heading for the bus and then for home.

You put the flowers in their little oil can vase on the table and sighed. At least most of the foliage hid the ugly red label. Unable to get that hurt expression of his out of your memory, you showered and changed into something more practical and comfy than your work clothes, and raced back out of the house, heading into town again. The garage was closed when you got there, but the half-orc half-tiefling you’d seen earlier was just locking up. Taking a breath for courage, you marched over and came to a halt beside them.

“I need to find Rhett,” you said without preamble.

They jumped and whipped around to look at you. “Oh shit,” they murmured. “Look, I’m sorry. We fucked up earlier. Rhett… Rhett’s a good guy but… he’s… you know…” They scratched their ear, just below the curving horn that arched along the top of their head and flicked up a little at the point. You fixed them with an uncompromising look, and they crumbled. “Look, he comes to work, doesn’t speak to any of us, then goes home at the end of the day. He fixes cars and bikes like no one I’ve ever met, which is why we keep him around, but I don’t keep him around for his manners or his chatty personality, you know what I’m saying? Do yourself a favour and just leave it there.”

“No.”

The owner of the garage blinked at you.

“No, I don’t think that’s fair. Someone bares their heart for me, takes a risk, and you rubbish the gesture? Stamp all over it and spit on it by laughing at him? No. I need to find him.”

“I don’t know where he goes after work,” they snipped. “And I’m not giving you his address.”

Your nostrils flared as you fought off a wave of indignation, but at that moment, Maro caught your eye and waved at you, beckoning you over.

“You’re a heartless piece of work,” you snarled at the half-orc, and they actually looked surprised. Good.

Maro ushered you into his fragrant shop and shut the door quickly behind you, clearly not wanting to get into a spat with the neighbours, but equally wanting to help. “What’s going on?”

You rolled your eyes and told him what had happened earlier, and he bit his lip. “Look, I can’t technically tell you where Rhett lives, but I might just sort of happen to know…”

“How?”

“I pass his place on my way home. I’ve seen him a few times, but it’s… not in a nice part of town.”

You sighed and plonked down into a chair behind the counter.

Maro offered you a half-full box of truffles, and you snaffled a couple before looking up at him with doleful eyes. “What am I going to do? He got ridiculed for the sweetest gesture anyone’s ever given me, and then he shut me out when I tried to thank him.”

“He was probably just embarrassed,” Maro said, putting his warm hand on your shoulder. “Look, why don’t you pretend to come back to my place, and we’ll walk through his neighbourhood together. If he’s… I dunno, putting his trash out or something as you go past, you’ll know it’s meant to be…”

“Maro, the universe doesn’t work like that…” you said flatly, licking the remaining cocoa dust off your fingers.

“Fuck it. It does tonight. Come on.”

So Maro marched you through the streets until you came to a part of town you’d never ventured into. A gang of gnolls trotted across the street ahead of you, yipping and yowling playfully, but Maro seemed undeterred. It occurred to you that he lived in a pretty nasty part of town for someone with such a successful business, and you’d just begun to ask him, when he turned and smiled at you. “My cherry tree has been here since before this town even existed,” he said. “I’m not going to sacrifice her to some housing development, and besides, the kids in this area really like the blossoms in spring, so…”

“Maro, you’re just too pure. Come on,” you said. “I don’t want to lose my nerve.”

Maro drew to a halt a little while later outside a nondescript, single story house with a six foot, chain link fence around the dusty front yard, and a ‘beware of the dog’ sign on the gates. A light shone from inside, but there was no movement.

“Is… Is that…?” you asked, wondering if this was such a good idea after all. You knew Maro quite well from your frequent chats once a week, but he was a spirit after all, and they could be tricksy��

He nodded, looking perhaps a touch sad. Then he opened his palm and blew softly into it, creating a little breeze that ruffled the grass and weeds in the yard before slipping in through the open front window.

“What…?”

“Just wait,” he smiled.

A moment later, a dog started barking inside, and another minute or so later, the door opened and a three-legged pit bull came belting round the side of the house, shortly followed by a scraggy looking mutt that looked more like an oven scourer than a dog, and finally, a rangy, long-legged, black and tan saluki.

“Maro, what did you do?” you asked warily.

“Wait for it…” the dryad said without taking his pale pink gaze from the house.

A door slammed, and a moment later, a human figure slouched around the corner of the house and came to a dead halt in the centre of the patchy lawn, staring straight at you with bright yellow eyes.

“Uh… hi?” you cringed. This was such a bad idea. But shit, if he wasn’t gorgeous in human form too, if a lot more slender than you’d imagined he might be, given the muscles on his wolf body.

One of the dogs, the little oven scourer thing, was scrabbling at the gate and you knelt down instinctively to say hello to it. It was honest-to-god the ugliest bugger you’d ever seen in your whole life, but it didn’t seem to care. It just wanted to greet you. You held your hand out towards it, on your side of the fence just in case it was nippy or nervous, and it snuffed at you, waggling its little grotty stump of a tail. To be fair, the dog was in brilliant condition. It was just utterly unfortunate looking.

The saluki remained aloof, regarding you with cool wariness from beside Rhett, and the three legged pit bull was boinging around, oscillating from saying hello to you and alerting its master that someone was at the gate who needed to be greeted.

Rhett, meanwhile was just standing there. He wore pale, scruffy jeans and a light grey sweater with a hole in the side.

Deciding to give him a moment to work out if he wanted to send you away or come and talk to you, you stuck your fingers through the wide hole in the chain fence and let the little dog nuzzle your hand. “Hey there,” you giggled as it shimmied again in ecstasy. “What’s your name?”

“Hovis,” Rhett supplied quietly, stepping closer. You tried not to look up at him, but you had seen that he carried the same extensive scarring on his face in this form as he did in his lupine form. His hair was white - not blond, but actually white - and he had it tied up in a scruffy bun at the nape of his neck, a few sections dripping forwards into his amazing eyes.

You laughed at the name of the ugly terrier. “Like the loaf of bread!” you giggled, and Rhett grunted something in assent.

“What are you doing here?” he asked a few seconds later, and you straightened to make it a little easier to talk to him.

“It was Maro’s -” you broke off as you looked around and found no sign of the cheeky dryad whatsoever. You rolled your eyes. “Maro’s idea,” you finished flatly.

“The guy who owns the flower shop?” he asked, keeping his head down and turned slightly away from you to try and hide the scars a bit.

“Yeah. I went back to the garage earlier, but your boss wouldn’t tell me where you lived. They’re also a massive jerk by the way…”

“Nah, they’re not really,” Rhett countered gruffly. “They’re… yeah. Anyway. I’m sorry you went to so much trouble.”

A loud gnollish laugh ripped the silence of the street in half, and all the dogs froze. The pit bull started growling, but Rhett only sighed. “You should leave, or come in.”

“I don’t want to impose, but… I’d rather not stay out here longer than I have to…” you said hopefully.

He jerked his head over his shoulder and turned away towards the house. All the dogs followed without him giving any kind of command that you could see, but little Hovis paused and looked back, yipping at you as if to tell you off for not following quickly enough.

“Come,” Rhett growled, and the little dog scurried after him.

In human form, Rhett was tall and lean, and not particularly muscular. In his werewolf form, he had thick legs and broad shoulders, but as a human he was tall, but kind of… ordinary. Except for the hair and the eyes. And the scars. There was no escaping them, no matter how much he tried to lessen their impact for you.

“You want a drink or anything?” he asked awkwardly as you stepped in through the back door into his kitchen. His home was sparsely furnished, and through the open door you could see a sitting room with an old chair facing the TV, and a saggy couch, for which the saluki and Hovis had made an immediate beeline and curled up together. The pit bull was still in the kitchen, having hung around with you and Rhett after you’d stepped in through the back door. You dropped to a crouch and fussed her ears.

“A beer?” you suggested, and Rhett sagged with visible relief and crossed to the old fridge to draw a couple out.

He cracked the top off it for you and offered one to you, his warm hand leaving a dark print on the condensation at the neck of the bottle. He had big hands, with scarred knuckles.

“Thank you,” you smiled. “Listen, I know we don’t know each other, and perhaps this is totally crazy, I don’t know, but when Maro told me what you’d said, what your message was with the flowers, I… I just thought that was the sweetest thing anyone’s ever said to me.”

You glanced up at him and saw that his yellow eyes were shining as he leaned his weight against the countertop hands braced by his hips. He let out a sigh and shook his head softly. “I don’t know what came over me,” he said, a slight smile at the corner of his pale mouth. The other was twisted slightly by the scarring and he made sure to turn away again.

“I wish you’d left me a note…” you said. “It might have made things easier.”

He scowled and looked away then.

“But I’m happy you left a message with Maro at least?” you added in a rush.

“I can’t read or write,” he admitted hesitatingly a moment later. “I never learned.”

“Oh.” You blinked at him and then smiled. “I can see why there was no note then!”

“You must think I’m just some stupid animal…” he hissed through clenched teeth.

“No,” you said fiercely. “No. That’s not a marker of intelligence! Heck, your boss said you fix cars better than anyone they’ve ever met! I don’t know the first thing about any of that.” You snorted and gave the pit bull’s ears one last scratch and added, “My house is falling down around me and I don’t know the first thing about repairing it!”

He paused and then said, “I could help you with that if you like?”

“I… I’d love that, but… I can’t pay you…”

Rhett scowled. “I wasn’t asking.”

“Ok,” you said quickly. “Then… yeah. I’d love that. Thank you.”

He smiled shyly and turned his gaze fondly back down to the pit bull at your feet, and you looked at him for a moment. Rhett’s profile was particularly beautiful, with a straight nose and a slight smile playing around his lips still. But it was that hair that was so striking.

You stood and crossed to him. You looked at him and he shrank visibly under your gaze. “You have the most amazing hair,” you said, “And eyes. I noticed you the very first time I passed the garage on my way home from the worst day I’d ever had.”

Rhett softened, and looked like he might cry as he choked, “And still you smiled at me.”

You shrugged. “You looked like someone worth smiling at, I guess.”

His resolve cracked, and he let his head hang down, grimacing as emotions swirled through him that he clearly had no idea how to handle. It pained you to see him like that, arms now crossed over his chest, fighting against whatever he was feeling. The pit bull whined too.

Tentatively, you reached for his bicep, and ran your hand over him. He shivered and a tiny whimper escaped him. You could sense instantly that he was completely touch starved. You traced the contours of his arm and shoulder, working up to his neck and the right side of his face, the un-scarred side. You cupped his head in your hand, having to go a little up onto tiptoes to do it, and stroked his white hair back from his face. His resolve crumbled a little more and he let out another gasp.

“Thank you,” you whispered. “Those flowers are so beautiful. No one has ever bought me flowers. I’m so glad they came from you.”

He looked at you then, surprise widening his amber eyes, and then he lowered his gaze to the floor and muttered, “You deserve so much more than flowers.”

“Let’s take it slowly first, shall we?” you grinned, stepping back and picking up your beer bottle from the counter. “How about introducing me to your friends…?” you said, glancing at the blue-eyed, honey-coloured pit bull that was staring up at the two of you in what could only be astonishment. The moment you both looked at her, she wagged her whip-like tail and wiggled furiously.

Rhett smiled a wonky smile and said, “That’s Peach. Hovis you already know, and the pretty boy on the couch in the other room is Princess.”

“He’s called Princess?”

Rhett shrugged. “It’s the only name he responds to, so… yeah? I rescued them all at one point or another. Peach lost her front leg before I found her, but she’s a tough cookie.”

You laughed, and said, “Maybe we could all go for a walk sometime then?”

Peach heard the word ‘walk’ and went berserk, until Rhett raised his finger and gave a tiny warning growl at her. It was only the shortest of sounds, but she stopped immediately, and trotted into the other room looking offended.

“Oh dear,” you said, grimacing. “I’ve annoyed her already…”

“You’re fine,” he said, taking a deep swig of his own beer. “She just gets excited, that’s all.”

“I guess I didn’t expect to find you…” you broke off awkwardly. “Um… in… human form… I don’t think I’ve ever seen you like that… at work, I mean…”

He smiled ruefully and walked into the other room without a word. You assumed it was alright to follow him, and headed in to find him sitting cross legged on the floor, leaving the armchair free for you. Hovis had set up camp in the crook of his lap, and he was running his pale hand through his tangled, wiry fur. “It’s easier,” he said. “I mean… not just on the customers. The fluff kind of hides a lot. But it’s hard to stay like that for too long, so when I’m home…”

“I see,” you said. “Plus as a werewolf I bet you could probably raise a whole car up without the lifting equipment.”

He tossed you an odd look, but nodded. “There are perks to being a woofer I guess,” he said.

“A ‘woofer’?” you grinned. “That’s amazing. I love that.”

He chuckled, his scars crinkling and stretching, tugging slightly on the corner of his eyelid.

“I feel like a princess myself up here,” you said, glancing over at the wary saluki who was surveying you from his seat on the sofa. “You mind if I join you and my new favourite loaf of bread? I think the actual Princess would appreciate it too…” you added, casting the imperial looking hound on the sofa a glance.

Rhett looked at you like you’d just said you wouldn’t mind eating your dinner off the floor, and opened his mouth to protest, but you were on the carpet beside him before he could formulate any words.

“I don’t want to overstay my welcome,” you said carefully, “But since you bought me flowers, shall we see if there’s a movie on TV or something? I can go home after that if you like. Or now…”

He looked sideways at you and shook his head. “No,” he said, taking a very deep breath. “You’re welcome to stay. I’d… I’d like it if you stayed.”

You grinned and took Hovis’ truly ugly face in both your hands, very aware of how close you were to Rhett’s personal space like that, and brought your face close to Hovis’ big button nose. “And how about you?” you asked. “How do you feel about me staying?”

Hovis’ little pink tongue shot out and lapped you right across your lips and nose.

“I’ll take that as an ok?” you asked, looking up at Rhett who had that expression on his face again that made you want to hold him and kiss him.

Instead, you smiled as he nodded, and settled your back against Princess’ couch, took a sip of beer, and thanked your lucky stars that you had a meddlesome dryad who ran a flower shop for a friend.

Part Two

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This one was written for my Patreon supporters for Valentine’s Day, and if you liked it, don’t forget to drop a click on the little heart and let me know you did! Reblogs/comments also always welcome :)

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#werewolf #male werewolf #character with scars #scars #female reader #sfw #sfw story #exophilia #ghosti's patreon #patreon #werewolf x reader

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