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#my saving grace is that the lessons are sunday evening and I have school in a different city monday morning
black-rose-irl · 9 months
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Trying to explain to someone that this thing that they do for fun was actually like, really traumatic for you the last time you did it (and is pretty directly responsible for you ending up on antidepressants) and that the mere suggestion to do it again triggers your fight or flight response, is really something.
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happy74827 · 1 month
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Contagiously Human.
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[Brian Moser x Female!Reader]
Synopsis: Killing was always the easiest part for him, but this… you… well, as fate would have it, that created a new problem for him. {GIF Creds: brothermoser}
WC: 1881
Category: Plot-Driven, Maybe Some Fluff/Angst…?
Someone asked me if I’d ever thought about writing Biney… and well, I decided to put my thought into actual words 🤷‍♀️
Just for some minor clarification, this is pretty much a “what if” fic in which Dexter does not end his life. This being said, I picture this taking place around season 5-6 ish.
『••✎••』
Hesitation.
The thing that makes or breaks a killer. The line that separates predator from prey. It's the pause between life and death, the time a man takes to make the decision, and whether he'll live to regret it or not.
He’s never had hesitation. Not once. In fact, he relishes in it; he finds peace in knowing that he can decide one way or another and be content with either outcome. It makes him a dangerous man, unpredictable, a ticking time bomb.
His baby brother, his blood, had the disease. The disease of being too much of a good person, feeling guilt, having morals, a sense of what's right and wrong. He was weak, he hesitated, and he wasn’t even aware of how much the disease was eating him alive until that Trinity Killer came around.
He was supposed to protect his brother, save him from himself, and show him the proper way of things. The way of survival. Of the hunt. But no, Brian wasn’t there to catch him. To stop him.
So, as all good brothers do, he’s here to fix him. To set him straight and rid him of the disease. Forever.
It's an easy task, really. His little brother is so trusting and caring that he'd do anything for the ones he loved. Why not start by showing him why he shouldn't?
Because clearly, the loss of his apparent wife wasn’t enough. He needed to understand, truly and absolutely, that the world would only disappoint him. It's a harsh lesson but a necessary one.
So, that led him to you. His brother’s friend from school. The woman, aside from Dexter’s poor excuse for a sister, that his brother actually cared about.
Just like him, you were naive. Trusting, too. Friendly to everyone, completely unaware of the monsters that hid in the shadows. His brother included.
You might’ve never killed someone, but with everything else, it was clear why his brother was so interested in you. He always loved the innocent ones.
So, the question was, how would he go about it? He could take you somewhere, but the element of surprise was an important factor. You had to believe you were safe and comfortable before he could make his move.
A Debra repeat? Or a more... Unique approach. He'd think about it, plan it out, and strike at the perfect moment.
He wouldn’t hesitate, after all.
When the day presented itself, the stars had aligned, and everything was just right; he made his move. It was noon, a warm Sunday.
You were in your little bookshop, reading one of the books in your free time. Business had been slow today, as most people were enjoying the weather.
You never saw him coming. He was the type to blend into the crowd, the type that you'd see once and forget about. The type you'd pass on the street without a second thought.
He had his ways, of course, and his way was simple. A simple, kind greeting. One that had your eyes lighting up as if you'd never seen another person before.
He was charming, handsome, the perfect man to lure you in. You didn’t stand a chance.
That's what led him here, picking up your fallen book and handing it to you, watching the smile that graced your lips.
A romance novel, of course. How ironic.
"Oh, uh, thank you. That’s very kind."
You smiled, a hint of blush dusting your cheeks. Far more tame than that Debra woman, thankfully. He didn’t have to fight back the urge to roll his eyes.
"Tea and romance? Can’t say I blame you." He pulled a gentle grin, one that had you blushing further, more so of embarrassment this time.
"It's the first of a series. A favorite, actually, I’ve been rereading it." You explained, holding the book to your chest. He didn’t miss the way your thumb rubbed over the spine, fond and gentle.
Just from that, he knew. He was going to have fun with you. “Believe it or not, I read the first one too. A few months ago, actually. It was quite the page-turner. The ending had me on the edge of my seat, I swear."
You laughed, soft and airy, and for a moment, he found himself smiling genuinely. His lie was working, and he couldn’t believe it was that easy.
"I've only heard mixed reviews on it.” You spoke, moving to place the book back on the shelf. "I'm glad to hear you liked it. Marienne’s death was hard, wasn't it?"
"Very." He agreed though it was a lie. He had to pretend he cared. "It was a shame; I really enjoyed the character."
"You did?" You raised a brow, surprised. “Most people didn’t. Given that she doesn’t even exist.”
Shit.
He cleared his throat, a slight pause. He was so blinded by the idea of finally getting to his brother that he'd forgotten.
You were a reader, an author; of course, you would know the ins and outs of the story. The characters, the plot, and every little detail. Why would you not?
First rule of hunting. Don’t get cocky.
"Alright, I admit. I've been caught." He gave a small shrug, his voice holding a hint of sheepishness. Maybe you’d fall for it. “I couldn’t help myself; I figured you wouldn’t appreciate my love for fantasy books."
"Fantasy?" You tilted your head, and he knew. You bought it. You were a sucker for fantasy; you didn't like it when others looked down on them.
"I'm a bit of a nerd. Guilty pleasure."
"I didn’t peg you for the fantasy type…” You raised your eyebrow, though a smile still rested on your lips—a look of amusement.
"Really? Most people can't seem to look past the collared shirt.
"No, it's not that. It's your aura." You shook your head, and now, it was his turn to raise his brow. What the hell did that mean?
"My aura?"
"Those books in your hands..” You nodded towards his bag, a small smirk pulling at the corner of your lips. "You're definitely not a casual reader. My guess is everything in there is a throwaway.”
"And that means...?"
"You're bullshit through and through. You don't like romance or fantasy. In fact, I think you absolutely hate it."
Oh. Oh, you clever thing. Now, he truly understood why his brother connected with you so much. You'd figured him out, and yet, you had no clue. You were clever, smarter than you let on.
"Alright,” He held his hands up in mock surrender. He was enjoying this; for once, someone could see through his façade. See his true self. It was a rush.
“If you’re so smart, what do I like then?"
"Hmm, let's see...” And just like that, you were off with him in tow. You were taking him along on a trip through the shelves, looking through the genres, searching and searching.
He was intrigued, his eyes locked on you, his ears drinking in the sound of your hums and contemplation. Your mind was running, spinning, thinking. You were truly in your element.
"Well, let's start with what I know. You like horror." You said, turning towards the horror section and picking up a book. "You seem like the type who enjoys the dark side of humanity and likes to see the bad guy win."
Damn.
He was almost impressed. Almost.
"How could you possibly know that?"
"Eyes. They tell the most about a person. You’ve seen a lot, and it shows. I could tell just by looking at you. Your eyes are... Cold. Empty." You said, and it was then that he realized you were more observant than you appeared. Naivety might’ve not been a part of your personality, but trust was. You trusted a lot. Too much. “Are you a cop, by chance? You've got the whole detective thing going on."
"Prosthetist, actually." He answered, his hand reaching out and picking up a book at random. He wasn't a fan of fiction, not really. He preferred nonfiction; it was more realistic—less pointless details.
"Oh, wow, I was completely off. I didn’t expect that." You mused, looking up at him with those eyes. You had such an expressive face; it was amazing how easy you were to read. He could practically see the gears turning. How could he use this?
"Expected an axe murderer, did you?" He joked, a smile tugging at his lips.
"Maybe. Wouldn’t that be a twist?" You grinned a glint of amusement in your eye. “Speaking of, that’s probably what you like. Thrillers. Those kinds of stories are full of twists and turns. No one is who they appear to be. Kinda like you, hm?"
"Ouch."
"Sorry, am I being too honest?"
"No, I like it. Keep going." He was having fun. With Debra, it was exhausting. She was so stubborn, so headstrong, she never listened. It took him about three coffees just to have enough patience to deal with her sob story.
But with you, you were a breath of fresh air. He didn’t have to force himself awake or hide his boredom. He could just enjoy it, relish in the moment, and the fact that you were so easy to play with.
You pulled out three books: two thrillers and one horror. A classic and a new one. "These are what I recommend. Start with Primal Fear; that’s the one I believe you'll like the most. The first one might take you a while, but if you stick with it, the sequel will be worth it.
He reached forward, his hand brushing over yours, his touch lingering as he took the book. He purposely brushed his thumb against the back of your hand, just enough for a spark to go through your veins.
He saw the way your breath hitched, and he smirked. This was too easy.
"Thank you, you've been a great help."
"One more thing before you go." You spoke, stopping him. His eyes moved up from the book to your own, and there he saw something that made him falter.
Something that made him freeze longer than he should have.
You had a fire behind those eyes. A flame that burned with a passion, a curiosity that threatened to eat him alive. A want, a need, to get into his head. To peel him open and look inside.
Your eyes weren't cold or empty like his. They were alive. Full of life.
"Books don’t impress women,” Your voice was low, a secret, something meant only for him to hear. “It’s the passion that opens their hearts. You have nothing if you can't show it."
"I think I've misjudged you." He spoke, his hand resting on the shelf above your head. He had no choice but to lean closer, and he felt the way your breath fanned across his skin.
"Oh?"
"Yes. You're a lot more than you appear, aren’t you?"
"Is that a good thing or a bad thing?"
The question was left unanswered. He didn't give a response because, in truth, he didn't know.
He left that day not with his brother’s cure or even the thought of him. He left with three books.
Three books and the disease he believed to be immune to…
Hesitation.
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[@numetalnerd2007] Since you asked, I figured this would automatically mean you were interested. At least I hope you were 💀
That being said, please be nice to me for this one since it’s my first time writing for Biney here (and I haven’t rewatched season 1 in forever), so his character probably isn’t 100% solid. It’s a work in progress 🙏✨
Also, for all my Joe Goldberg fans out there, did you catch the reference I made? I see a slight resemblance between Brian and Joe, so I wanted to sneak it in a little something. I think it’s the hair, honestly.
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kotorno · 2 years
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Fun Story Time
Growing up, I was raised Christian as my family was considered Lutheran protestants. At least that’s the kind of churches we went to. As I got into my teens I questioned religion a lot because it starts to crop up, “wait, some of this doesn’t make sense.” My parents were upset with me for having such a shake in faith, but I persisted on. What I would eventually learn is that my parents’ marriage was absolutely HATED by the majority of dad’s family as he didn’t marry “the right kind of Christian” and so my mother at the time, trying to still be in their good graces, wasn’t upset so much at my lack of faith, but was more upset that they’d look down on her MORE because one of her kids abandoned religion altogether. I’ve found Catholism a toxic dump ever since. If people are going to judge you based on your fucking DENOMINATION of religion, they can fuck off. Didn’t know at the time, but there’s even worse denominations than that. Fun. As part of the (at least lutheran-protestant) christian tradition, I had to get “confirmed” with the church. For those unaware what this is, the common practice of christian tradition is that no baby is born “good” in a sense. You first need to be baptised in order to be “cleansed” to have the holy spirit with you. (If this sounds 100% incorrect, I apologize, but it is how it was told to me by my fucking pastor.) After baptism, your ritual for “adulthood” in christian faith is to get Confirmed. This basically is “I’ve been saved by the holy trinity, now I am affirming my belief.” Depending on church will depend on how it goes, and I’m guessing denomination as well, but what it meant for me is that for 2 years, I would have to take extra church classes after school at least once a week to truly “understand the value of christ.” And of course, with most old religious traditions that go, “you’re an adult now!” this is sprung on you when you’re about 12-15. You know. WHEN YOU ARE GOING THROUGH FUCKING PUBERTY. Definitely the BEST time to force faith down your throat as you don’t understand what the fuck is going on with your body. As a side-note, let’s think for a moment. Isn’t fucking WEIRD that you “need” to be baptised to be saved from evil? The baby doesn’t have a conscious choice in this, they just get it done to them because the parents said so. But I suppose that’s why the confirmation exists, for you as “an adult” to choose if the religion is right for you or not. ...except the part where you’re a FUCKING TEENAGER and you still live (most likely) under the roof of the same people who baptised you and they are forcing you to go into this regardless of your opinion or not. As such, I went through the confirmation program. It was mostly, and I shit you not, just “let’s redo bible school, but now it’s required to be part of the church.” Which is ridiculous as it is. For many churches, they have an alternative to younger children instead of church services, and that is a class they partake in that teaches the same lessons, just in a classroom setting instead of those uncomfortable wooden bullshit couches. So for me, who was already subjected to this school on sunday (that taught really no real lessons that you wouldn’t already find in a fairy tale), the majority of these 2 years of “can’t hang on wednesday, I gotta go to church and learn how to be a good christian” were review and nothing else. At this point you’re probably going, “wow, we get it, you hated it.” Yes. But I think it’s better to understand the temperament in which I went in with for these classes. As I was only 12 at the time of these starting, I was given an ultimatum by my mother: “Go in with an open mind” as my faith (or lack thereof) was already waning. But shutting yourself out completely before hearing at least what the other side had to say was indeed wrong. So I went in with this mindset. If I HAD to go to these classes, then I would go to LEARN. Why is the bible the way it is? Do we quote scripture properly? Why do we bother to use the Old Testament as keys to lectures/sermons/whatever when the story of Jesus Christ is literally him saying, “no, fuck that” ? I came with those types of questions for most classes starting off. I wasn’t trying to be, “well, actually,” I was genuinely trying to get, from the perspective of either a devout congregation member who taught the class or a pastor, WHY they thought this was the way it was. What insight did they have that would assist? Of course, these classes weren’t one-on-one. They were with others. Some who were devout already and just ready to believe whatever the teacher told them. Some were bored and annoyed they were forced to be there. And me, being as polite as possible, would raise my hand when questions were allowed... “Excuse me, but from what I could read in the bible, I couldn’t find an exact passage that supports this. Could you elaborate on why ____ is mandatory in service?” I think one time that blank was filled in with “song” (I hated singing in public), sometimes it was about communion, but always I would look through the book, to the best of my ability, to see if there was a direct correlation. This was the holy text, and I needed confirmation on how the rituals came about if there wasn’t a road map. After all, you read about 2+2 and you can read the history of WHY 2+2 and how it got there, etc. The knowledge is there to be learned, understood, and accepted. It gets updated (hopefully) to match with the times in order for current generations to better understand it. That’s how textbooks should work. In the context of this class, the bible itself was the textbook, and the textbook didn’t bring up the examples I commented on. In fairness, at least the pastor would be able to give some historical context to why some of the rituals were used. I liked these answers as they gave me more understanding of how the religion was founded. After all, if I was going to be a devout believer in this, just knowing Jesus died for our sins wasn’t enough. I needed to know what had happened between then and now. And that’s when it happened. Someone in the class just shouted at me, “Devil Child!” I was confused by this. I was trying to get information in gaps that the text could not provide. I paid it no mind at first... But I kept asking questions. I wanted to be open minded, so for me to be open minded I needed to know as much as I could. If I just “believed” what was in the text directly, that would be just as close-minded as shunning the religion altogether. Now though, almost EVERYONE was commenting on me each time I made a question. “Devil Child.” “Only the devil would ask questions of faith,” some reasoned. Others just wanted to jump on me because that’s how they got their kicks. Be it the congregation member teachers or the pastor, they sat in silence as I was continually called this. Just ignoring it passively, though I could see at least the congregation member teachers sometimes smugly smiling at me, “shut up freak, just accept the religion and piss off” is what their expression told me. I endured this for 2 years because my parents told me to. I knew I was being harassed and did tell my mother one time. She took it up to the pastor who then said, “oh, well he’s a bit of a disruptive student” so I was shat on again. Asking questions... when you say, “does anyone have any questions?” is being... disruptive? What? Nevermind that the issue wasn’t my questions, it was, ‘why are these kids being so harassing toward someone who wants to understand the faith better?” I would meet with that pastor shortly before my actual confirmation ceremony. In which I learned, he was pretty much A-OK with those other kids being assholes to me. “Part of faith is having faith in it, it’s typically frowned upon to ask questions,” he said... after I had already endured this for the past 2 years. “Then why even entertain my questions in the first place? Why ask for questions?” I would say. “Oh. We know most don’t care to ask them, it’s just a common phrase to make sure people understand and we just move on, you know how it is,” he said. “But I DIDN’T understand, that’s why I was asking them.” “Yeah, and that’s your problem. Faith isn’t about understanding, it’s about belief.” I was adamant on NOT being confirmed. But apparently (and this could be 100% bullshit told to me just to do the ceremony) if you don’t get confirmed it’s harder to become a member of a church later in life. So I did what I had to, and had a fun picture of my 14 year old self pretending to smile in confirmation robes planted on my parents’ shelf for all the years to come. When I brought this up much later in life, mainly as a joke as to how horrible christian people can be, my mother was horrified, “Why didn’t I hear about this?!” “I told you. You tried to do something, they did jack-all.” “I thought they were having a problem with your lack of faith.” “Oh no, they probably thought that based on how my conversation with that asshole pastor went. I was just trying to get kids to stop bullying me for wanting to learn.” I gave up most all faith after that. While I’m probably more agnostic than anything (there are too many good people who do not deserve to die while the wicked still live, and I’m scared to shit of death after being extremely suicidal in high school), I’ve had an extreme bad taste for Christianity ever since. That doesn’t mean you can’t be a good person and still be very religious christian. I’ve met quite a few who may wear their religion on their sleeve, but don’t use it as an end-all be-all that I see... far too common nowadays. In a quest to understand, I was told, “shut the fuck up and just take this in, no questions asked.” And I look now, especially today, to how that mentality has spread to extremists. The church I attended wasn’t batshit insane, it was considered highly respectable by most in my metro area. It wasn’t mormon or evangelical or fucking jehovah’s witnesses levels of batshit insane. It wasn’t even Catholic insane. But the point remained between all of them, from what I saw and learned: To ask a question, is a sin to god. The God that is “perfect,” “infallible,” “loving,” “all-knowing.” If they’re perfect and all-knowing, they should be able to answer some goddamn questions. If they’re infallible and loving, they should be smiting truly wicked people from this world. This is the God that the New Testament speaks of. One would would literally give a human child to bear the brunt of human sin. This is the christian God. And it’s a fucking lie. Maybe, just maybe, people know of such a god. But none who invoke that name constantly to push their own viewpoints see such a god. They see a malicious, hateful, evil judge who must destroy anything that does not fit their ideal image. And now we have the US run by people who think that. By people who “believe” that because belief is all that matters. Fuck what anyone else says. Belief in this all-powerful asshole that wants to destroy anything they deem incorrect. PRETTY SURE that’s what the devil was supposed to be in the christian mythos. But what do I know. I am in fact, a “devil child.”
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divineproverbwoman · 2 years
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Some of my goals
Education:
- Graduate as an A+ student
- Study consistently even for subjects i am naturally good in DONT SETTLE FOR B’s get yourself only A+
- Have prettiest essays and notes every school year
- [ ] Be known as the favorite of all teachers because of your professionalism, discipline and the work you deliver.
- Took all EHBO lessons.{resuscitate someone}
Personality:
- Be kind and understanding to everyone every single day
- Strong emotional intelligence and mental health
- Have a personality that spreads God’s love by being gentle, kind, wise, graceful, poised, soft-spoken, and selfless
- Be most organized, well put together and optimistic person people know
Appearance:
- Become more physically appealing everyday
- Grow glutes
- Grow and thicken lashes and eyebrows w serum
- Nails appointment regularly
- Teeth whitening appointment monthly
- Get koi fish tattoo
- Gain weight
- Grow out my hair even longer
- Dress more modest
- Build muscle everywhere
- Clear skin everywhere
- Get belly and ear piercings
- Master full self love
Skills:
- Learn new languages (Japanese, Chinese, French and Arabic)
- Improve my stamina and endurance
- Get better at dancing and learn other dance styles
- Improve my humor and communication skills
- Have emotional intelligence
- Improve my baking
- Become better at problem solving
- Become good story teller
- Improve my intuition
- Become more organized
- Learn to play the piano
- Improve manners, etiquette and femininity
- Improve handwriting
- Master charm, seduction and mystery
- Improve cooking
- Get better in sports
- Improve my drawing and painting
Career:
- Invest money regularly
- Save allot of money Never be broke
- Earn enough to live a comfortable live not having to worry bout what to eat, wear and where to live
- Become one of best psychologists
- Have my own company (animals, visagiste or psychiatry)
Lifestyle:
- Live more minimalistic and gratefully
- Fix sleeping schedule
- Drink 2L water daily
- Eat more fruit and vegetables
- Heal from all past trauma and find 100% comfort and enjoyment in solitude
- Read books regularly
- Journal and reflect everyday
- Have a self care day weekly
- Eat 3 meals a day
- Don’t use money on useless stuff really only on things that are necessary
Faith:
- Find a good church to visit every Sunday
- Become proverbs 31 woman
- Pray every morning and night
- Get baptized
- Fully release all sins
- Be able to speak in tongues
Random:
- Start my own podcast/youtube
- Write and sell a book
- Sell my own art/crafts
- STEP OUT OF COMFORT ZONE
Family/house:
- Adopt kids
- Encourage my children to be self sufficient, smart, ambitious, kind, generous and always learning
- Have a fountain in garden with birds and butterflies roaming around and Plant my own plants in my garden
- Own gorgeous house in midst of nature
- Own pets
- Own my dream car in big garage
- Have my own farm where i grow my own fruit,vegetables and get my own eggs milk from the animals there
- Support all family financially (also in Cape verde)
- Gorgeous basement in house with amazing view to sunsets and stars with telescope in center of roof
Relationship:
- Spoil friends monthly
- All people around me contain a warm positive encouraging energy
- Marry a man that has the same norms and values
Environmental:
- Invest in charity yearly
- Get big social network to improve environmental issues as war, climate changes, child labor, population etc.
- Travel the whole world and mean something in every country
Hygiene:
- Room/house clean 24/7
- Maintain hygiene everyday
- Smell the best (vanilla, shea and coconut)
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diondrak · 4 months
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Testimony
I grew up in a Christian household, brought up in Pentecostal and Nondenominational churches. In my early twenties, I was blessed by God with a zeal for Scripture and theological studies through the means of discipleship. I was soon after ordained as a minister to teach sermons and Sunday school for children and later on, adults. Though this was a great thing, I was still very immature. I thought these things made me holy. I knew nothing of the Gospel, the perfect work of Christ, and what that meant for me.
In September of 2021, the Lord brought some missionaries to my college campus. They shared with me that just because I went to church and said and did all the right things didn’t mean I was saved. Any hope I had in salvation was completely destroyed and crushed. I was depressed and cried out to God many nights for help, for salvation, for understanding. A week later, the true Gospel was ministered to me through a Paul Washer sermon. I was filled with delight and joy knowing that the unbearable burden of me being wicked and having no possible way of reconciliation with God was taken away in Christ. I needed something outside of myself. An alien righteousness. I needed Christ. It wasn’t until I let go of my self-righteousness that I saw Christ as the only Savior. Even now I am still growing in the grace and knowledge of Him.
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In October of that same year (2021), on Reformation Day, I taught my last Sunday School lesson. In the lesson plan, there was mention of Martin Luther. I learned about the Reformation and it sparked a desire for reform in my own life. It invoked a response to take my purity seriously in staying faithful to Scriptures and the Gospel of Jesus Christ. I became a member of a PCA in April of 2022 after 5 months of visiting. Even though becoming reformed was a great thing, it brought out sins that I didn’t know were there. Things like pride and slander. Soon after I went through a long period of affliction. The Lord used that affliction to make me more like Him in comforting and having compassion towards others. It wasn’t my theology that saved me, it was Christ. It was His blood shed for me.
After various afflictions and my recent struggle with anxiety and despair, I felt led to share the faithfulness of God through my plight. I created ‘Contrite Heart’ to be a light and encouragement to suffering sinners. To show that as we grow in awareness of our sinfulness and God’s holiness, the cross gets bigger. We are great sinners, but God is a great Savior.
That is the testimony of my life.
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admaioremdeigloriam · 11 months
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Christians always assume that unbelievers think they're "not good enough". Trust me, I went through a thousand sunday school lessons and evangelism classes. This is how you expect the conversation to go:
You: "God loves you!"
Them: "But I've sinned too much ☹️ How could anyone love me?"
You: "He will forgive you!"
Them: "Wow I will get saved now!!"
Ever wonder why your attempts to convert people don't work that easily?
It's because literally no one else thinks like that.
You're the one that has been brainwashed into believing you're a horrible filthy sinner that only has value through God. The rest of us are fine. We don't need God to be fine. We don't even think he exists!
It's not your fault though. Your religion is designed to keep you at odds with everyone around you. You will be hated and have nowhere to turn but your church. They will have your loyalty and your vote and your money. You will be left with nothing but a life wasted on online proselytism. I feel sad for you.
A thousand Sunday lessons is impressive, what denomination are were/are you apart of? I'm honestly curious.
Your example, watered down as it is, is sort of accurate. I'll give it that. I think you brushed aside some important key aspects such as confession, state of grace, etc. It's not so easy to be "saved". It's something we have to work towards with God.
I am not trying to convert anyone. I don't think one little tumblr text post could accomplish that.
Brainwashed insinuates I have no choice and am being manipulated. But I don't blame you for thinking that. You don't know me, nor my upbringing or anything else so that's a shot in the dark, huh?
But you know... I appreciate your sympathy anonymous even if it isn't needed. I can say this, my family is not all Catholic nor is my community. I voluntarily left of my own volition for a very long time and had many personal struggles. It was good though it made my faith stronger when I came back because it was now a choice. I chose to love and follow God. My family and friends let me explore my spirituality without judgment. I love and appreciate the people in my life for loving me unconditionally the way Jesus taught them to. I'll continually do my best to do the same for all my brothers and sisters as well.
I pray you're doing okay, anonymous, the king of the universe does have a place set aside for you. I hope you take it.
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  Through the Bible with Les Feldick LESSON 1 * PART 2 * BOOK 63 THE PRAYER OF THE REMNANT - PART 2 ISAIAH 63:7 – 66:24 Okay, once again, we’re ready to go for another half-hour program. For those of you joining us on television, we would like to thank you. We just can’t get over how you support us financially and with your prayers, and with your letters. What an encouragement to read your letters. Yesterday, one letter just stood out about how our program and our teaching had transformed their whole household. Well, what else can you expect but to let the Word do its work? All right, now we’re going to pick right up where we left off in the last lesson. In that lesson I kind of digressed more than I intended, and we only got one or two verses, so we’re going to jump back in at verse 8 of Isaiah 63. But I want to remind you that the whole half-hour we just spent was to show that God always keeps a remnant. Even in ancient Israel, the whole nation certainly was not obedient believers. The vast majority was anything but. If you doubt me, go back and read your Old Testament. But in the midst of them, they still had that remnant of true believers. So it is today. Just because the church is full and seemingly vibrant and is making a lot of headway numbers-wise doesn’t mean that they’re all believers, because many have never placed their faith in Jesus’ death, burial, and resurrection for their salvation. I’ve given the illustration that years back, when we were in Genesis, I ordered a book from one of the Lutheran seminaries. A Lutheran theologian wrote it. It was just simply called The Flood. I’ve never gotten over the analogy he drew, I’ve repeated it before, and I’m going to repeat it again. This is so typical, I think, of what we’re seeing, especially today, with these huge mega-churches - full of a lot of excitement seemingly but how much of the truth of the Word? But anyway he said this, "When Noah and those three sons were building that humongous ark, which remember was longer than a football field (450 feet long), and it was three stories high. It stands to reason they probably had to hire extra help." "But," he said, "When the flood came, were any of those extra workers in the ark? No. They had no concern. Even though they’d helped build it." Then he took it one step further, and this is sobering. He said, "How many church people are busy, busy, busy. Singing in the choir, teaching Sunday School, giving, doing everything, but they’re not in the ark." You know, that’s frightening. They have all the "churchianity" in the world, but they have no saving grace. This is why we try to constantly emphasize that it isn’t the work that you do, but rather it’s the faith that you have in what Christ has already done. All right, now the same way in Israel. There was that small element that was true believers, not just worshippers. All right, jump in at verse 8. Now remember, this is the element that we’re dealing with, this little remnant of believers, but we’re picturing them in the closing days of the age or in the final days of the Tribulation. This is what we’re really referring to over and over throughout these final chapters - verse 8. Isaiah 63:8a "For he said, (that is the Lord) Surely they (this remnant) are my people,…" Now you remember what the verse said in our last program. In Romans chapter 11 especially, what would God say? "They are my people." Now he doesn’t say that concerning Israel today. They are out there in unbelief. And although He’s certainly in control, He’s got them where He wants them, yet they are not a nation of believers, they are not what God will yet call "My people." Isaiah 63:8 "For he said, Surely they are my people, children that will not lie: so he was their (what?) Saviour." They were true believers. So, even back in the Old Testament economy, where salvation is far different than what you and I understand, He was their Savior. Next verse: Isaiah 63:9a "In all their affliction (Now, Israel has
always gone through a constant time of persecution and affliction, but in all their affliction…) he was afflicted,…" That is, He suffered with them. In fact, do you remember, I think I mentioned it in our last taping which was shortly after the Tsunamis over there in Asia, that God does not precipitate these tragic events, Satan does. Now, God permits it, but Satan is the one who moves and shakes these things. But why does Satan bring so much turmoil and suffering on the human race when he’s already got them under his control? Because Satan knows it hurts the heart of God. God doesn’t enjoy seeing those thousands being washed away. It tears at His heart, even in their unbelief. So, this is what it’s saying here, as Israel was suffering affliction, who was suffering with them? God was. Isaiah 63:9a "In all their affliction he was afflicted, and the angel of his presence saved them: in his love and in his pity he (what?) redeemed them;…" Now, you want to remember the whole book of Exodus is really a picture of what? Redemption. Redemption is buying something back that you have previously owned. Well, I haven’t got time to go into all the applications, but nevertheless, when the brothers sold Joseph down into Egypt it was the sin that broke the fellowship between him and the brothers. So, the whole process of redemption had to begin, and that, of course, was bringing them back out of Egypt 200 and some years later. Isaiah 63:9b-10a "…he redeemed them; and he bare them, and carried them all the days of old. (In other words, up through their ancient history, the days of antiquity.) 10. But (in spite of all of His love and grace) they rebelled,…" In unbelief. They didn’t want to be collared by godliness and spirituality. They wanted to live the life of the flesh. Isaiah 63:10b "…and vexed his holy Spirit: therefore he was turned to be their (what?) enemy, and he fought against them." Consequently, again, He used Babylon and He used the Syrians and He used other nations to be their tormentors. Isaiah 63:11-12 "Then he remembered the days of old, Moses, and his people, saying, Where is he that brought them up out of the sea with the shepherd of his flock? where is he that put his Holy Spirit within him? 12. That led them by the right hand of Moses with his glorious arm, dividing the water before them, to make himself an everlasting name?" Now, every time I consider the parting of the Red Sea by Moses and the Children of Israel walking over on dry ground, I just have to mull over to myself how many of the current world’s population believe that really happened? Well, I don’t know, but I’ve got a pretty good idea - not many. I think in the minds of most people, that’s just another legend, that’s another myth that was concocted around the campfire - but it happened. It is something that takes some faith. Yes, the water of the Red Sea parted. Now, I have one favorite portion of Scripture to prove that. Turn back with me to Joshua. If there’s any in my listening audience that may be of that persuasion, that this is just Jewish legend, that these things didn’t really happen, yes, they did! Physically. Physically, the waters of the Red Sea were parted, and Israel walked through on dry ground. Come back with me to Joshua chapter 2 and verse 9. The spies have now confronted Rahab on the wall of Jericho. This is only a few years after - it’d be a little over forty years, because this is after the wilderness experience. They’re now coming into Israel from the east side of Jordan, and they confront Rahab on the wall of Jericho. This is what Rahab, the Jerichoite, says to these Jewish spies. Joshua 2:9-10a "And she said unto the men, I know (She’s not going by hearsay.) that the LORD hath given you the land, and that your terror is fallen upon us, and that all the inhabitants of the land faint because of you. (Now, here it comes.) 10. For we have heard how the LORD dried up the water of the Red Sea for you, when ye came out of Egypt;" Now listen, Jericho wasn’t that far from Egypt.
This wasn’t something halfway round the world that they had picked up by hearsay and legend. No, this was front-page news, if you want put it that way. Here, the God of Israel opened up the waters of the Red Sea, and that nation of several million people walked through, not through the mud but on dry land. It was an established fact in ancient history that this is what God did when He brought Israel up out of Egypt. So, never doubt it – not for a moment. This is not just some legend or some myth. This is actual historical fact. All right, Isaiah 63 once again, and reading verse 13. Isaiah 63:13 "That led them through the deep, as an horse in the wilderness, that they should not stumble?" Now, that’s a play on words that the average reader will never get. Like I’ve pointed out, I think in our last taping, in the Middle East what’s the wilderness? Desert. What’s desert? Flat. I’ll never forget our trip down to Petra. Remember that? Oh, just flat for miles and miles and miles. Well, for a horse and rider what is that? Hey, that’s smooth going. That’s smooth going compared to going through the rocks and canyons of a mountainous area. So, this is the picture now, the horseman in the wilderness in the Middle East is riding without fear of stumbling or rocks or whatever like that, and this is the God who led them as someone riding on horseback on a flat desert table. Then, "they should not stumble." But, on the other hand, verse 14, we have another picture and it’s: Isaiah 63:14a "As a beast goeth down into the valley,…" Now, why do beasts go down into the valleys of a terrain? What’s down there? Water! So, these are the analogies that you’ve got to look for. God brought them out just like a horseman riding on the desert, but He took care of them like animals going down to the cool water of a mountain stream. Isaiah 63:14b "…the Spirit of the LORD caused him to rest: so didst thou lead thy people, to make thyself a glorious name." Now, this is really a prayer, you see, on behalf of this small little remnant who recognized who the God of Israel really was. Isaiah 63:15-16a "Look down from heaven, and behold from the habitation of thy holiness and of thy glory: where is thy zeal and they strength, the sounding of thy bowels (innermost being) and of thy mercies toward me? are they restrained? (Now, in the next verse there’s an interesting statement, again, that the casual reader will just slip over.) 16. Doubtless thou art our father,…" Now, did unbelieving Israel think that? Let me show you. Come back to John’s gospel. Now, I like to jump into the New Testament as often as I can, because I don’t want someone to accuse me of staying in the Old Testament - John’s gospel chapter 8 verse 39. The Pharisees are now confronting Jesus and ridiculing Him. They’re scorning Him. John 8:39a "They answered and said unto him, Abraham is our father." So, they really didn’t understand God the Creator of everything as their Father. They ridiculed Christ when He claimed to know the Father and was the Father. I think I had a couple of other verses on my mind, but that should suffice. They knew nothing of God as their Father. They recognized Abraham as their father, and they were religious on that basis. But to have God as their Father; they knew nothing of it. All right, verse 16 again, back in Isaiah 63. So, the believing element can claim God as Father. Isaiah 63:16a "Doubtless thou art our father, though Abraham be ignorant of us, and Israel acknowledge us not:…" Now, there again, what does that tell you? How did the rank and file of Israel feel about the true believers? They detested them. They’re nothing but negatives. They’re holding everything back. They’re not progressive. Sound familiar? Yeah, it does. It’s no different today. So it’s always been that the true believer was considered a stumbling block to progress. Isaiah 63:16b-17 "…thou, O LORD, art our father, our redeemer; (See, there’s that word again, the One who purchased their salvation.) thy name is from everlasting.
 17. O LORD, why hast thou made us to err from thy ways, and hardened our heart from thy fear? Return for thy servants’ sake, the tribes of thine inheritance." Now, you see, way back here Isaiah is prophesying how the remnant at the end-time, that we looked at in the last half-hour, will be waiting for the return of Christ to establish His Kingdom. So they can pray, "Return." But, did the unbelieving element want that? No. That’s the last thing they wanted. In fact, this always brings up a question. Go back with me, I hope I don’t get myself in trouble here. I should probably look up where I was in Psalms, but anyway, go back with me to Acts chapter 7. Here we have the account of Stephen. He’d just finished his great dissertation condemning the nation of Israel, and then you come down to verse 54, Acts 7. I hope you’re catching my analogy. This is going to be the attitude of the masses of Israel compared to that remnant that will be spared and are waiting for the Lord to return - much like the unbelieving element confronting Stephen. Acts 7:54-55a "When they heard these things, (That is from Stephen.) they were cut to the heart, and they gnashed on him with their teeth. 55. But he, (Stephen) being full of the Holy Spirit, looked up steadfastly into heaven, and saw the glory of God, and Jesus standing on the right hand of God," Oh, that throws a curve at everybody. Why did Stephen see Jesus standing when all the rest of Scripture says, "He sat down at the right hand of the Father on high?" Well, if He’s going to return, what does he have to do from the seated position? Well, He has to stand. Was Israel ready for that in Stephen’s day? No. Now, flip back to Psalms 68, and this will show you why. Oh, they didn’t want Christ to return. That’s the last thing they wanted. But the remnant did. Psalms 68:1 "Let God arise, let his enemies be scattered: (Why? Because when He stands from that seated position, He’s going to come in judgment first before He brings in the blessings of the Kingdom.) let them also that hate him flee before him." Now, we showed that so graphically in our last set of four programs. My, when He returns He’s going to be as if stomping on the masses of humanity so that the blood is splattered on His raiment. It was compared to what? The grapes in a grape vat. Remember? All of Scripture draws that analogy that He’s going to return in wrath against His enemies, but it’ll be the greatest blessing on earth for the remnant of believing Israel who will be waiting for His coming. Psalms 68:2-4 "As smoke is driven away, so drive them away: as wax melteth before the fire, so let the wicked perish at the presence of God." (That is his Second Coming.) 3. But (What about the righteous? They’re going to be glad.) let the righteous be glad; let them rejoice before God: yea, let them exceedingly rejoice. 4. Sing unto God, sing praises to his name: extol him that rideth upon the heavens, by his name JAH (Jehovah), and rejoice before him." Now, that’s the exuberance of the remnant at the return of Christ. But the majority of Israel? No. They don’t want Him to return. They aren’t ready for Him. So, always remember these things, that the Second Coming will be wrath and vexation on the unbelieving world, but for that remnant of Israel it’s to be the culmination of all the prophetic Scriptures. All right, back to Isaiah, we’ve got a couple of minutes left, Isaiah 63 verse 17. The last part again: Isaiah 63:17b "Return for thy servants’ sake, the tribes of thine inheritance." See, the believers wanted Him to return. Now, don’t forget the setting. This is the Tribulation remnant that is waiting for His sudden return. Isaiah 63:18-19 "The people of thy holiness have possessed it but a little while: our adversaries (Now this, of course, is a reference to the Babylonians as well as the Romans.) have trodden down thy sanctuary. (I feel it’s a reference to the temple. But, the little remnant of Israel can claim…) 19. We are thine: (Why? Because of their faith God has redeemed them.
They are a believing remnant.) thou never barest rule over them; they (That is the adversaries.) were not called by thy name." It’s so obvious now that this is the prayer and the expectation of the remnant. Now, I think we can go right on into 64 because, after all, the chapter breaks were not in the originals, and it reads just as well without the chapter heading. So, it’s that same remnant that continues in this prayer of exultation. Isaiah 64:1a "O that thou wouldest rend the heavens, that thou wouldest come down,…" Now, I think we did this in one of our last programs. Israel is waiting for Christ to come down. Turn with me to I Thessalonians chapter 4, and we’ll see the opposite effect for you and I and the Body of Christ. I Thessalonians chapter 4 and this is what we have to do. A lot of people try to put everything into one basket. No, you don’t ever do that. You just keep separating the Scriptures. The Old Testament believers expected God to come down. He’s going to stand on the Mount of Olives. He’s going to set up His throne in Jerusalem, and He’s going to give them an earthly Kingdom. But you and I, we’re going the other direction. I Thessalonians 4 and I’m going to read them all again, because everyday we get letters from people who have just caught the program for the first time. You know, yesterday a lady called and she ordered something and I said, "Well, how long have you been listening?" One program! That’s unbelievable - one program. So, we have to constantly keep them in mind as we repeat and repeat and repeat. All right, here’s Paul’s take on what the Church or the true Church, the Body of Christ, is looking for shortly (7 years) before Israel looks for Him to come down into their midst at the end of the Tribulation. Now, it’s the same way with the two Jewish ladies grinding at the mill, one will be taken, the other left. Well, that’s not the rapture. The one taken in that case is the unbeliever. They’re going to be removed from the scene and the believer will be left, that is in the Tribulation, having received salvation through the preaching of the 144,000, but for the church age believer it’s just the opposite. I Thessalonians 4:13-15a "But I would not have you to be ignorant, brethren, concerning them which are asleep, (Who have physically died.) that ye sorrow not, even as others which have no hope. 14. For if we believe that Jesus died and rose again, (In other words, we believe Paul’s Gospel for salvation.) even so them also which sleep (have died) in Jesus will God bring with him. 15. For this we say unto you by the word of the Lord, that we which are alive and remain unto the coming of the Lord…" See how plain that is? Now, Israel would say the coming of the Lord is down to them. He’s going to come to the Mount of Olives. Zechariah 14 says it. Acts 1 says it. He’s going to stand on the Mount of Olives when He comes. But for us in the Body of Christ, He’s not going to come to the planet. He’s going to only come to the air! I Thessalonians 4:15b-17 "…shall not precede (or go ahead of) them which are asleep (who have died). (This is the reason.) 16. For the Lord himself shall descend from heaven with a shout, with the voice of the archangel, and with the trump of God: and the dead in Christ shall rise first: 17. Then we which are alive and remain (We’re still in our everyday livelihood.) shall be (what?) caught up together with them in the clouds, (He’s not going to be brought down to our midst, we’re going to be caught up.) to meet the Lord in the air: and so shall we ever be with the Lord." Well, that’s the beginning of eternity for us. For Israel, it’s the beginning of the Kingdom here on earth, which will come seven years later at Christ’s Second Coming to the earth, at the end of the Tribulation. There will be a thousand years of glorious rule and reign, by their King, their Messiah, and their Redeemer. But for us it’s already the beginning of the eternal state. We’re getting closer and closer every day.
How we long for, as Paul puts it, to escape this old tabernacle of the flesh, with all of its disappointments and its pain and its suffering. One day we’re going to have that glorious new body like His resurrected body and not just for the thousand years, but for all eternity. But Israel…Israel is looking for the Messiah to come down from heaven into their midst and to set up the promised Kingdom.
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thatsgay-writes · 3 years
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Leah x reader who is know to be the calm and nice one until she snaps when she found out Rachel held Leah underwater
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You were the yang to Leah’s yin. The eye of Leah’s own personal hurricane. Literally one of the only reason Leah had managed to stay some what sane after everything that happened with Jeff. Overall, you were her saving grace. You fell, literally fell, into her life on a cloudy but bright Sunday afternoon.
---
You had just been jogging through the park, training for a marathon that your father made you run. Your dad was an over the top sports fanatic and forced you to do sports or things you didn’t want to do. If you didn’t comply, you got beat. One thing he never taught you was wrestling or MMA fighting because he didn’t need you to learn how to defend yourself. So you got it taught to you and joined an underground fighting ring to make money since your dad wouldn’t let you get a job. Fighting was a way to let out all the pain and anger in your life in a productive way, it also let you get out all the pent up negativity in your body. Outside of the fighting cage you were a bubbly person, you had decided from a early age that the world had enough negativity in it and that you wouldn’t participate in it.
Anyways, you had been jogging through the park on Sunday finally hitting your five mile mark and were ready to turn around when you ran smack into a person. You wrapped your arm around the girl, you could tell it was a girl after practically body slamming her, and turned your body so you would hit the ground instead of her. “Oof...” You let out as the gravel digs into your back. “Are you okay?” You ask as you look up at the girl laying on top of you. The brunette above you shook her head a little before looking at you. Her eyes widened comically as she took you in. A blush shone through as Leah realized she was laying on top of a beautiful girl... Laying on top? Laying on top! Leah realized she was still on top of you and immediately got up. “I am so sorry!” Leah says as she puts out a hand to help you to your feet. “Oh shit.” Leah says as she realizes her ice cream cone had been crushed between the two of you. Not even caring about her own ice cream covered shirt, she uses the napkins that had survived the fall to wipe your stomach clear of ice cream. You look at her in shock as this random girl you just ran into was now wiping your bare stomach clear of ice cream. Leah froze after a few minutes as she realized what she was doing. “I--- Um...”
---
You ended up getting a beating that night for taking too long on your run but you didn’t care. You had gotten the number of one of the most pretty girls you had ever met. After the first meet, you and Leah started seeing each other a lot more. You didn’t know how you missed that Leah went to your school but you definitely surprised her one day when you came up to her in the hallway, abandoning your jock friends and invited her to spend lunch with you. The rest was history.
---
You had only been on the island for three days before you got into a fight. It had started as a normal morning. You woke up next to Leah and gave her a kiss on the head before getting up. You sat down next to Fatin near the fire as Dot kept it going. “You two are cute.” Fatin said with a smirk. You feel your face heat up and gave a small shrug with a smile. “Well I love her so...” Fatin gave you a nudge causing you to laugh. Your brightness was one of the only things that kept some of the girls sane. Sure, Martha was bright as well and Shelby tried to stay upbeat, but something about you had seemed so pure and good and it put all the other girls at ease... Except for Rachel. She seemed to have a problem with you for no reason. Rachel just didn’t believe in your enthusiasm about staying positive. She also didn’t like Leah because of what happened with the phone and how suspicious she seemed of everything.
There had been a few moments where Rachel had angered you and made you mad but you managed to calm yourself down, like with what happened on the mountain. But you had remained calm after Leah reassured you multiple times that she was okay. Leah still didn’t know about your underground fighting but she would soon. “Rachel is fucking psychotic.” Leah mumbles to you as every sat in their own little groups doing whatever. Fatin and Dot sat with the two of you. “What happened?” Fatin asked, over hearing Leah. “She almost fucking drowned me for that black box.” Leah continues in disgust. “I tried to come back go back up for air after we had gone up and down twenty times and she grabbed my ankle and pulled me back down.” “She what.” You state deadly calm as Rachel finally hit the last straw of your patience.
All three girls looked at you in shock, they had never seen you so serious or quiet as you were at that moment. Leah was surprised to see anger flash through your eyes before you stood up. “Oh shit.” Fatin mumbled as she they watched you walk towards Rachel. The three girls you were just with stood up, concerned about what was going to happen. You walked by Martha, Shelby, and Toni as well who all watched you in concern as they noticed the other girls had stood up. Now you had a whole audience as you walked up to Rachel and Nora and tapped Rachel on the back. “What?” Rachel ask annoyed at being interrupted by you. “Stand up.” You said trying to seem as calm as possible. “Why?” Rachel asked, really testing your patience. Don’t break her nose, don’t break her nose... You kept repeating over and over again in your head as you repeated yourself. “Stand up.” Rachel rolled her eyes and stood up right in your face, eye to eye. Nora had stood up as well but moved away some when she noticed the tension between you and Rachel.
Without warning, and to everyone’s shock, you reared your fist back and punch Rachel hard across the face causing her to fall. You shook your hand as you started to walk away from her. “What the fuck!” Rachel roars as she stands back up. “What the fuck was that!?” You stop walking and turn around to face Rachel, ignoring the shocked and frozen looks from the other girls. “Well you almost drowned Leah earlier today at the plane wreck, that wasn’t about to let that go unchecked.” You stated, voice still icily calm. “It’s not my fault she can’t hold her breath long or whatever. Maybe she should learn how to swim correctly or some shit.” Rachel fires back annoyed. “Oh yeah? Says the girl who lied about going to Stanford for diving.” You say in a mocking tone as Rachel’s eyes got wide. “Yeah, you and Nora talk kind of loud.” You say with a smirk that got bigger as Rachel attempted to bum rush you out of anger. You dodge a upper cut aimed at your face and move to the side as Rachel stumbles past you.
You let out a chuckle and grin from the adrenaline rush you were getting, you hadn’t fought someone in weeks. “This is going to be fun.” You state with a big smile, causing Rachel to get even angrier. You took off your shirt, not wanting it to get ruined, and Fatin let out a low wolf whistle getting a elbow to the stomach from Leah. Leah on the other, not gonna lie, was turned on. Her girlfriend fighting for her, shirtless? Leah was in paradise. Rachel bum rushed you again but this time instead of dodging, you caught her fist and gave her a solid punch in the stomach. The two of you fought for what seemed like seconds but what was really a few minutes as Rachel tried to get the upper hand on you. Finally, you had gotten Rachel pinned down again and was holding her arm in position that could dislocate it if you pulled to hard. “Tap out.” You grunted as Rachel tried to get out of your hold. She had blood dripping out of her nose and on to the sand and also sported a black eye. You had gotten her good but made sure not to hit place that would cause anything to break. Nora had wanted to help her sister but had backed up after Rachel sent her a deadly glare. “Tap out or I’ll dislocate your shoulder.” You state again, you knew how to put it back in so it didn’t scare you to do it. “5... 4... 3... 2...” You start counting down and slowly pull on Rachel’s arm.
“Alright alright! I give up!” Rachel screamed out as the pain got too much for her and you immediately got off of her. “Good, now don’t do some dumb shit like that again... To any of the girls, got it?” You ask as Rachel nods her head and holds onto her shoulder. You gave a nod and walked to pick up your shirt that had gotten sand on it during the fight. “Damn...” You stated as you went to the ocean to wash your shirt off and cool down. The ocean salt stung some scrapes you had gotten but was cool against your hot skin. It took a while but the girls all split away after the crazy event they just witnessed. Leah opting to give you some time before talking to you.
---
You had been in the ocean for a concerning amount of time. You honestly didn’t want to return to the girls in fear that their opinions about you might have changed. The other girls, void Rachel and Nora, were worried about you. “I think you should go talk to her.” Fatin says as she whispers to Leah. “I think she’s cooled down enough.” Fatin continues as she see’s Leah bite her lip in thought. Leah nods her head and gets up before heading towards you. “Tell y/n I want boxing lessons while your down there.” Toni throws out, being completely serious and ignores the glare she gets from Rachel.
You sat in a shallow part of the ocean, staring out into the endless sea. “Penny for your thoughts?” Leah asks as she sits beside you, as close as she can without touching you. You give Leah a quick glance before looking straight ahead. “Are the girls mad at me?” You ask, voice filled with nerves. “Just Rachel and Nora but that’s understandable.” Leah let’s out a laugh, “Toni does want you to teach her how to fight though.” You smile and turn to look at Leah before getting serious again. “Are you okay with what happened? I know I kind of went all Incredible Hulk and all but hearing what she did was just the last push...” Leah cupped your face with her hands. “I am okay with what happened... It definitely shocked me but, not gonna lie, it was kind of hot.” Leah says with a smirk and your face heats up immediately. “I, um... woah.” You say with a nervous laugh as Leah lets go of your face and leans her head against your shoulder instead. “Thank you though, for protecting me and defending me... Even before the whole place crash happened.” Leah said as she let herself fully relax against you for the first time since the plane crash. “Always.”
NEXT
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silverlightqueen · 4 years
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Teacher’s Pet
‘if I pass this quiz, will you give me your babies?’
little body, big heart masterlist
teacher!seokjin x student!reader - smut, fluff, angst, humour
Word count: 15.9k+
Summary - Peach sets her sights on her new Food and Nutrition teacher, and enlists the help of her friends to seduce him...
Warnings - bad language, mention of drugs and alcohol, teacher x student, age difference, oral sex (m and f receiving), cock-warming (but in her mouth lol), public sex (maybe, idk lol), fingering, degradation, underwear sniffing (lmaooo), gagging, pussy slapping, ‘sir’, I think that’s it, lmk if I’ve missed anything pls
a/n: the first instalment of the ‘little body, big heart’ series !! unedited as usual lmao but I hope y’all like this, and lmk if you wanna be added to the masterlist x
taglist: @jintendoswitch​ @atulipandarose​
silverlightqueen masterlist
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‘Peach!’ I hear from behind me, turning to look down the corridor, spotting Daisy and Dream walking towards me. ‘Hey, girls,’ I say as they near me, hugging the two of them. ‘Hey, babe,’ Daisy says, pushing her glasses up to sit stop her head, handbag resting in the crook of her elbow. ‘You’re in Mr Kim’s lesson this morning too, right?’ Dream asks, and I nod, the girl grinning. ‘Good! Let’s go now,’ Dream says excitedly, Daisy rolling her eyes.
‘What for? The lesson doesn’t start for another ten minutes.’ ‘Don’t you wanna get seats together?’ Dream says, and Daisy lets out a gentle laugh. ‘Dream, we’ll get seats together even if we show up late. I’ll make sure of it,’ she replies, before turning on her heel. ‘Let’s go get a drink from the cafeteria,’ she calls over her shoulder, Dream hurrying after her, and I follow behind them both, taking my time.
My shiny black school shoes (with a slight heel on them) squeak against the checked linoleum floor, pastel pink and baby blue. Everything at this school is pastel pink and baby blue; the dormitories, the classrooms, the walls, the floor, the cafeteria, our uniforms. Though, I won’t complain about the uniforms; they are kinda cute.
The pleated check skirt is supposed to be loose and long, but my friends and I have tightened ours, rolling them up so they reach mid-thigh. The white blouse is supposed to be thick and long-sleeved, but my friends and I have thin short-sleeved ones, fitted to accentuate our assets. The pink and blue check blazer is supposed to be long and shapeless, but my friends and I have all cropped ours to our waists and bought a size too small. The white socks are supposed to be knee high and thick, but my friends and I wear ankle socks with a lace frill on them.
Whilst everyone else looks like conservative nuns, we look like we’ve just stepped out of Clueless, and as much as the teachers hate it, there’s nothing they can do; it’s not like we can go and get new clothes from the uniform shop in the city when we’re miles and miles away from it. And it’s not like we have time to travel there, what with lessons on Monday through Saturday, Sunday our only day off.
This school is like a prison. I guess that’s what it is though; a prison for naughty children. It’s a reform school, for anyone in the school years K-12, hence the ridiculously creative name (note my sarcasm there, please). We’re all in the final term of our final year, some of us having been here longer than others. I’ve been here since ninth year, Honey since ninth, Sunshine since tenth, Pearl since ninth, Daisy since eighth, Angel since tenth and Dream since eleventh.
We’ve all been sent here for very different reasons. I was caught shoplifting a designer handbag, and then they discovered my eBay account, selling hundreds of (stolen) designer items that I had stashed under my bed. Honey got into a fight with a girl at her old school and put her into a coma (she’s still in one, apparently). Sunshine was caught doing drugs with her ex-boyfriend. Pearl was caught selling drugs with her ex-boyfriend. Daisy was caught in bed with a boy years older than her (he still phones her sometimes). Angel flunked her ninth year because she ditched every other lesson to see her ex-boyfriend at the school down the road (the other school apparently thought she was one of their students because she was there that often). And Dream failed Chem (her parents are scientists and they took it a little… deep).
That’s our little friendship group, the pretty and popular girls that everyone hates. But we’re honestly not that bad. We can just come across as exclusive, but it’s only because we’re so close. We’re like sisters; we know everything about each other. Well, nearly everything.
We don’t know each other’s’ real names; the school gives all the girls a new name when we arrive, to help with reformation apparently. We’re all called sickly sweet things, like Princess, Buttercup, Honeybun, Sweetie. You name it, someone’s called it. They’re supposed to reflect the way we should behave; ladylike, elegant and graceful (what’s elegant about Peach, I don’t know, but whatever). The boys don’t have to have new names though. It’s just one of the very many double standards at this school. I think being out in the countryside means it’s light-years behind the rest of society. Our friendship group has changed that a little bit, though.
Some of the girls have boyfriends (which is totally against the rules), prompting some of the other girls in our year to do the same. Some of us have piercings and tattoos and false nails (don’t ask how Daisy managed to sneak in piercing and tattoo equipment). Honey smuggled hair-dye in with her, one colour for each of us (my hair’s peach, Honey’s is honey-blonde, Sunshine’s is bright blonde, Pearl’s is a silvery-grey, Daisy’s is a baby blue, Angel’s is platinum blonde and Dream’s is baby pink). Daisy brought loads of alcohol and Pearl brought loads of drugs, so we all get drunk or high every Saturday. If anything, the school’s made us worse.
As we enter the cafeteria, Sunshine and Angel call our names, waving at us from where they’re sat on our usual table in the corner with their boyfriends, Hoseok and Taehyung, and their boyfriends’ friends, Yoongi, Namjoon, Jimin and Jungkook. We head over to say hi, Daisy strutting over with her head held high, attempting to catch Jimin’s eye.
They’ve been on and off since Daisy arrived in eighth year (the boys have all been here since seventh year after they set their school on fire at the end of sixth year), but he’s come back after the holiday with a new girlfriend, much to Daisy’s dismay. It seems he still fancies her though, his eyes glued to her as we near the table.
‘Hey, guys,’ I say, everyone greeting us in return. ‘What do you guys have this morning?’ Angel asks, leaning against Taehyung. ‘Food and Nutrition with Mr Kim. What about you?’ Dream asks. ‘We’ve all got a free lesson. How amazing is that? I’m so having a lie-in every Monday morning,’ Sunshine says. ‘That’s so not fair,’ Daisy complains, voice a little softer in front of Jimin. ‘You shouldn’t have chosen such a terrible subject then,’ Namjoon says evenly, and I roll my eyes. ‘It’s not terrible; the old teacher was. Maybe Mr Kim will be better,’ I muse, the boys laughing.
‘What?’ Dream asks, and Hoseok raises an eyebrow. ‘Have you not seen him?’ he asks, all of us shaking our heads. ‘Let’s just say, you won’t be doing that much learning in his lesson. You’ll be too busy staring at his face,’ Hoseok says, and Daisy raises an eyebrow. ‘Is he good-looking?’ she asks, the boys nodding. ‘Someone needs to tell Mr Kim to watch out. Daisy’ll be trying to seduce him,’ Yoongi says, everyone laughing. ‘I do have a thing for older men,’ Daisy jokes, referring to her ‘reform’ story, as the school calls it (everyone is required to share their reform story with their first class on their first day), and we all burst out laughing, save for Jimin who looks less than amused.
‘I’m going to get a drink. Anyone want anything?’ Daisy asks, and I nod. ‘I’ll have my usual, please,’ I say, Dream asking for her usual too. Daisy sashays towards where the lunch ladies serve food, Jimin’s eyes watching her retreating figure. As soon as they spot her walking over, they plaster big smiles on their faces. No one wants to get on Daisy’s bad side; I feel sorry for Jimin’s girlfriend.
‘Where’re the other two of your little gang? Pearl and Honey?’ Namjoon asks. ‘Pearl doesn’t arrive ‘til tomorrow, and Honey had a 9am with Mrs Lee,’ Dream explains, the boys nodding. Dream’s fit into our group really well, becoming the innocent little baby that our group never head. I’m the mum friend, Honey’s the ‘will fight you if you’re rude to her friends’ friend, Sunshine’s the sunshine of the group (her name’s fitting), Pearl’s the clever friend, Daisy’s the promiscuous and glamorous troublemaker and Angel’s the romantic drama queen. We’re all so different, and that’s what brings us together.
‘I know I’ve said this before, but I love the hair, Peach. I’ve been thinking of going that colour soon,’ Taehyung says, and I smile. ‘Thanks, Tae. I’ve got some spare dye if you want it,’ I say, and Angel whines. ‘No, baby, I love your hair the way it is. The blue suits you,’ she says, and he rolls his eyes. ‘I’ve had it blue for months. It’s time for a change. I’ll have that dye if you don’t mind, Peach. When my roots start to show,’ Taehyung says, and I nod as Angel pouts, Daisy returning with our drinks.
I have a caramel frappe, Daisy has a mango and passionfruit smoothie and Dream has an iced vanilla latte. ‘Come on, let’s head to lesson. We’ll be late otherwise,’ I say, Daisy groaning, and I shake my head. ‘No, come on, no complaining. It’s our first day back, we can’t be late. Let’s go,’ I say firmly, ever the responsible friend, and we bid goodbye to our friends before heading to Mr Kim’s lesson.
We walk down the corridor, people parting for us to get through, as Daisy and Dream gossip about the latest scandal at the school (apparently Kai cheated on his girlfriend, Crystal, with the new girl, Dumpling), and I just listen, sipping on my drink. When we reach the lesson, there’s a minute left until 10.30 and the classroom is completely full. Daisy, eyes set on the desks at the back of the room, whispers, ‘watch this,’ to Dream and I.
Now, Daisy’s not a mean girl. But she’s manipulative. Where anyone else would go and tell those people to move from their seats, Daisy takes a different approach. ‘Oh, no. You were right, Dream, we should’ve come earlier. Now we can’t even sit together, let alone at the back like we wanted to,’ she whines loudly, lips pouted and eyes wide.
Instantly, the boy sat in the back middle seat gets up and prompts his friend in front of him and his friend to the left of him to do the same. ‘Here you go, ladies,’ he says, eyes on Daisy, who giggles, placing a hand on his chest as she passes him, taking his seat. I sit in the seat in front of Daisy, Dream sitting beside her, watching as the boys make the people in the row in front of us move so they can sit in those seats.
I’m placing my books and stationery onto the table when the door opens and the teacher walks in, the class falling completely silent as the door falls shut. I look up, intrigued at this man that the boys said is good-looking, and I have to actively stop my mouth from falling open. ‘Good morning, class. I’m Mr Kim, your new Food and Nutrition teacher. Sorry I’m late, I got a little lost. I’ll make sure I’m here before you all next week.’
He’s beautiful, his skin fair and clear, hair dark and swept back, revealing a slice of his forehead and dark eyebrows, lips plump and pink and glasses covering his chocolate brown eyes. He’s tall with wide shoulders, complemented by his black suit. ‘It’s lovely to meet you all. I thought we could begin today’s lesson with introductions rather than getting started with content straight away,’ he says as he sets himself up at the teacher’s desk at the front of the room, my eyes glued to him.
‘Peach,’ I hear Daisy hiss from behind me, and I turn to look at her, her face covered in shock when she spots the blush on my cheeks. ‘I was gonna ask if you think he’s hot, but you obviously do,’ she whispers with a smirk, and I feel my blush deepen, turning to face the front once more.
‘Let’s start with the introductions. I’d like to hear all of your names, and your… reform stories? That’s what the school calls them, right?’ he asks, all of us nodding. We go around the room, from front to back, Mr Kim listening with interest to all of the stories. When he reaches me, I will my voice not to crack, and I hear Daisy whisper, ‘confidence,’ from behind me.
‘Hi, Mr Kim. I’m Peach,’ I say, sounding like a different person to my own ears. It’s almost like Daisy’s possessed me or something. ‘Hi, Peach. I like the hair,’ he replies with a small smile, and I feel a rush of satisfaction at his words. ‘Thank you, Sir. I like yours too. Anyway,’ I say, not giving anyone enough time to dwell on my compliment to him before I move on, ‘I was sent here because I was caught shoplifting a Saint Laurent bag. And then my parents found all the other designer stuff hidden under my bed that I was reselling on eBay to make enough money to go to Glastonbury.’ Mr Kim looks like he’s trying not to laugh, nodding with a smile on his face. ‘Okay, well, it’s nice to meet you, Peach,’ he replies before moving onto the next student.
When he reaches Dream (complimenting her hair too – the compliment he gave me seems a little less genuine now), she says, ‘I failed Chem and my parents were angry because they both have Chemistry degrees,’ and he lets out a gentle laugh. ‘Oh, gosh. Well, the only thing you’re here for is to improve your Chemistry grade, right?’ he asks, and she nods. ‘I was great at Food and Nutrition, sir.’ ‘That’s perfect. Makes my life easier,’ he says, before moving on to Daisy.
‘Hi, Mr Kim. I’m Daisy,’ she flirts, and he smiles at her, already sussing out the kind of person she is. I try not to feel jealous, knowing Daisy’s a natural flirt, but the smile he gives her makes my heart twist with envy. Grow up, Peach. ‘Hi, Daisy,’ he replies amusedly, and she pouts. ‘Sir, you complimented Peach and Dream’s hair. Don’t you like mine?’ she asks teasingly, and he laughs. ‘I can’t be seen encouraging behaviour that is extremely against the rules. But, off the record, yes, Daisy, I do like your hair,’ he replies with a grin, and I know the girl is preening from the praise without even turning to look at her.
‘Thanks, sir. Anyway, I’m here because the teachers caught me having sex with a high school senior in the school changing rooms. When I was in seventh year,’ she says, the grin audible in her voice, and Mr Kim’s cheeks and ears blush slightly as she speaks. I know Daisy’s over the moon about having this effect on him, the smugness clear in her tone. For some reason, Daisy brags about her reform story, when it’s very clearly statutory rape. ‘Well, that’s an interesting one, Daisy,’ he replies, voice slightly strained, and Daisy grins. ‘I’m an interesting girl, sir,’ she replies, Mr Kim nodding before moving on to the last person in class.
The lesson continues, not eventful in the slightest, but I can’t help but chew on my pen as I listen to him speak, the plastic mangled by the time we’re halfway through the lesson. He’s just so captivating, the unique way in which he laughs, how he’s got such a broad and intimidating build but seems so… sweet and kind, how beautiful his face is.
As part of the curriculum for Food and Nutrition, we have to learn about drugs and alcohol, and how they can be detrimental to your health, and when Mr Kim starts talking about this part of the topic, Daisy decides it’s time to disrupt the lesson. ‘Marijuana’s terrible if you’re trying to lose weight, Sir,’ she says solemnly, the man turning to look at her amusedly. ‘And why’s that, Daisy?’ ‘Well, I don’t know about everyone, but it gives me the munchies. I eat everything in sight,’ she says lightly, everyone laughing at her open admission to smoking weed. To our brand-new teacher.
‘I’m not sure this is something you should be discussing with your teacher, Daisy,’ he says with thinly veiled amusement, failing to hold back the smile from his face. ‘It’s fine, Sir. You’re no snitch… right?’ she says softly, almost threateningly, and Mr Kim seems to pick up on that, shaking his head. ‘I was a kid once too, Daisy, not long ago,’ he replies.
‘How long ago, Sir?’ I ask, and he smiles at me. ‘Is that a polite way of asking how old I am?’ he asks, and I nod shyly, laughing. ‘I’m 22, so I would have been your age four years ago. Gosh, that makes me feel old,’ he says, and we all let out disagreements, various ways of telling him he’s not old. ‘Sir, you’re the youngest teacher here. And the hottest. Old people aren’t hot,’ Daisy says shamelessly, Mr Kim blushing slightly again.
‘Thank you, Daisy,’ he replies, slightly stiffly. ‘No problem, Sir. You should hang out with us sometime,’ Daisy says, and he shakes his head with a smile. ‘That would be ridiculously against the rules. But thank you for the offer. Maybe at your end of year prom?’ he suggests, all of us nodding. ‘Now, anyway. Let’s get back on track,’ he says, continuing with the boring content of the lesson.
As soon as he sets us the first written task, Daisy kicks the back of my chair, gentle conversation beginning around the room. ‘You’ve so got a crush on him,’ Daisy teases, and I roll my eyes. ‘Why were you flirting with him then?’ I hiss, and she laughs. ‘Babe, come on, you know I’m not interested in him. There’s only one guy on my mind,’ she replies, and I deadpan her. ‘Okay. So why?’ I ask again, and she shakes her head.
‘I was sussing him out, Peach. Trying to get a feel for him, and whether or not he’s your type,’ she replies, and I raise an eyebrow. ‘And is he?’ ‘Totally. And he’d so go for you, too. See how much he was blushing when I spoke about my reform story? It means he was thinking about me having sex. If he can think about a student having sex and blush from it, then he can have sex with a student,’ Daisy says, and my eyes widen.
‘I don’t wanna have sex with him!’ I hiss, and she raises an eyebrow at me. ‘Girl, you don’t have to lie to me. Back me up here, Dream.’ ‘Yeah, Peach, it’s totally okay if you do. People always have crushes on their teachers, especially if they’re so good-looking,’ she replies, and I roll my eyes. ‘Okay, but would you advise me to if the opportunity arose?’ I ask, and Dream hesitates.
‘I wouldn’t advise you against it, because we’re already at a naughty school. What’s the worst they can do?’ she says, Daisy nodding in agreement. ‘You should so go for it. Try to seduce him. Yes, he might be a teacher, but he’s a young one, basically a boy. He won’t be immune to a bit of feminine charm,’ Daisy says, and I shake my head at her disapprovingly.
‘Oh, come on, don’t act all high and mighty. We’re at the same reform school, for God’s sake, you’re no better than me,’ she says, and I supress a laugh. ‘We’re here for very different reasons, Daisy,’ I point out, and she waves a hand in the air. ‘Promiscuity, stealing, failing Chem, it’s basically all the same thing,’ she says, Dream and I exchanging an amused glance.
‘Whatever you say, Daisy. The point is that you may feel comfortable to seduce a teacher, but I am not,’ I say firmly, and she rolls her eyes. ‘What’s the worst that could happen? They tell your parents? Wow,’ she says scornfully, and I shake my head at her. ‘It’s not happening,’ I say, and she purses her lips. ‘Spoilsport,’ she says, just as the door opens.
I turn to face the front, watching as one of the deputy headteachers, Mr Song, walks in. ‘Mr Kim,’ he says by way of greeting, not giving Mr Kim a chance to speak before he continues, ‘I thought you might like to know that I’ve been watching this classroom on the CCTV and those three young ladies at the back of the room haven’t done a single bit of work since you turned your back. I’d advise you separate them, or move them to the front of the room where you can keep an eye on their work.’ Daisy sighs as I internally groan, Mr Kim turning to look at three of us with a disappointed look on his face.
‘Thank you, Sir,’ Mr Kim replies stiffly, and I can’t meet his gaze, feeling ridiculously guilty. Not only have we disrespected him as a teacher, we’ve made him look like he can’t control his own class. In his first lesson. Mr Song leaves, Daisy sticking her middle finger up at the door as it closes, and Mr Kim sighs.
‘Girls… move to the front row, please,’ he says, Daisy groaning. ‘But Mr Kim-’ ‘No. Don’t argue with me. Move,’ he says sternly, the three of us collecting up our things and swapping seats with the people in the front row. Daisy pushes me towards the middle seat, right in front of Mr Kim’s desk, and I try not to blush as she grins at me.
I pull my glasses out of my bag, putting them on and beginning to write, and after a couple minutes, I hear Dream sniffling to my left. ‘Dream? You okay?’ I whisper, the girl looking up at me with watery eyes. ‘Yeah, I just… I just don’t like getting in trouble,’ she whispers back, my heart melting. ‘Here,’ I say, getting a tissue out of my bag and handing it to her, and she gives me a smile. ‘Let’s go the cafeteria together after lesson. We’ll get milk and cookies. My treat,’ I say, and she gives me a wide smile. ‘Thanks, Peach.’ ‘No problem, babe. Don’t be sad,’ I reply before going back to my work.
Time flies as I write pages and pages, and when the bell rings, I’m surprised the lesson’s already finished. ‘No homework for today, students, just make sure you remember the content we went over this lesson. See you next week,’ Mr Kim says as we all start packing up. ‘Sorry about earlier, Mr Kim,’ I say as I leave, and he smiles at me. ‘No problem, Peach. Just make sure you work next week,’ he says, and I nod with a smile. ‘Bye, Mr Kim.’ ‘Bye, Peach.’
As soon as I leave the room, I sigh dreamily, Daisy and Dream laughing at me. ‘You’re so into him,’ Dream says, and I smile. ‘Maybe,’ I reply in a sing-song voice. ‘Oh, shit,’ Daisy says, stopping dead in the corridor. ‘What?’ Dream and I chorus, turning to look at her. ‘You left your book. On your table. You should go get it.’ ‘I have my book.’ ‘I took it out of your bag,’ she says with a smirk, and I sigh, my body going cold.
‘Daisy, you need to stop meddling! You go get it!’ I say, and she shakes her head. ‘We’ll be waiting in the cafeteria for you. Milk and cookies will be my treat,’ she says, linking an arm through Dream’s and dragging her down the corridor. I sigh, heading back to the classroom with shaking hands and my stomach turning. I knock on the door, hearing Mr Kim call out, ‘come in!’ I open the door slowly, popping my head through first, and he smiles at me.
‘Peach. Back again so soon? You loved learning about drugs and alcohol that much?’ he teases, and I laugh. ‘I knew enough about those anyway,’ I say as I step into the room, and he laughs. ‘Well, what gives me the pleasure of your presence?’ he asks, leaning back in his chair, and my breath hitches in my throat. ‘I, um, left my book on my desk,’ I say, his eyes landing on the textbook sat atop my desk. ‘Forgetful?’ he asks, and I nod. ‘Embarrassingly so,’ I reply, walking to pick up my book and tucking it into my handbag.
‘Whilst you’re here, Peach,’ he begins, and I turn to look at him. ‘Yes, Sir?’ ‘Was today’s lesson okay? Should I carry on like this?’ he asks, and I debate whether or not to tell the truth. ‘Well, Sir, I won’t lie, it was good, but maybe you should make them a little more interactive. Maybe with, like, quizzes, or group discussions, or something like that. Just to engage us a bit more, or some of us will switch off,’ I say, and he nods. ‘Okay. Thank you, Peach,’ he says with a smile. ‘No problem, Sir,’ I reply, and he reaches into his briefcase.
‘Here. I saw you give Dream a tissue when she was upset. I felt terrible. Take these. One for you, one for Dream, and one for Daisy,’ he says, holding out three pink lollipops. ‘Daisy?’ I ask with a raised eyebrow, and he laughs. ‘I have no doubt I’ll hear all about it if I didn’t give her one. She’s outspoken, that one,’ he says, and I laugh. ‘You don’t say so. Imagine what’s been like for me, being best friends with her for nearly three years. It’s like having a daughter,’ I say, and he laughs.
‘I take it you’re the mum friend then,’ he says, and I nod with a sigh. ‘A mum to six other girls. Honey, Sunshine, Pearl, Daisy, Angel and Dream,’ I list off, and he raises an eyebrow. ‘I don’t think I can get used to hearing names like that,’ he says, and I roll my eyes. ‘Trust me, it’ll take a while. They’re honestly terrible. Everything here is terrible,’ I complain, and he raises his hands in a ‘surrender’ motion.
‘I’m not saying anything. I need this job. My wife will kill me if I lose it,’ he says, his words like a punch to my stomach. His face drops when he registers his words, and the room is silent for a moment. ‘Well, anyway. Here you are, Peach,’ he says with a smile, handing me the lollipops. ‘Thanks, Mr Kim,’ I reply, trying to ignore the spark I feel when my hand touches his, drawing my hand away and tucking the lollipops into my bag. ‘See you later, Sir,’ I say, heading towards the door. ‘Bye, Peach,’ I hear him call after me as I leave, the door falling shut between us.
The moment I enter the cafeteria, lollipop in mouth, Dream calls my name, beckoning me over to our corner. Dream and Daisy are both there, along with Pearl, Honey, Yoongi and Jungkook. ‘Is that lollipop from Mr Kim?’ Daisy asks as soon as I’m in earshot, and I nod with a smirk. ‘Ooh, really?’ Dream asks, taking a sip of her milk. ‘Yeah. He gave me one each for you guys too,’ I say, pulling the two other lollipops out of my bag and handing them one each. ‘Aw, he’s sweet,’ Daisy says with a knowing glance, and I roll my eyes amusedly before turning to Pearl and Honey.
‘Hey, girls,’ I say, both of them greeting me in return as we hug. ‘Sunshine and Angel?’ I ask. ‘12’o’clock with Mr Choi,’ Honey replies. ‘So what did you talk about with Mr Kim?’ Daisy asks, lollipop between her fingers. ‘The lesson. And then how terrible the school is. And then he mentioned that he has a wife,’ I say, Daisy and Dream’s mouths falling open. ‘Well. That puts a spanner in the works,’ Daisy says distractedly, lost in her scheming thoughts.
‘Wait, what? What’s going on?’ Honey asks confusedly, and I sigh. ‘Daisy’s trying to get me with our new Food and Nutrition teacher,’ I say tiredly, Honey, Jungkook and Yoongi bursting into laughter as Pearl looks at us in shock. ‘Daisy, are you insane? Not only would you be absolutely ruining his career, it would get Peach into loads of trouble!’ Pearl exclaims, and Daisy rolls her eyes.
‘Pearl, babe, you worry too much. It’s totally fine. No one will find out,’ Daisy says, and Pearl raises an eyebrow. ‘You can’t guarantee that, Daisy. I know you guys never listen to my advice, but I’m telling you, this is not a good idea,’ Pearl says seriously, and Daisy waves her off. ‘Come on, Pearl, let’s be real. It’s not gonna happen anyway. It’s just a joke,’ she says, a glint in her eye, and I know she’s up to something. ‘Wait, it’s a joke? I thought you were being serious,’ Dream says, and Daisy shrugs elegantly.
‘I was, before I realised Peach would never do that. She hasn’t got the guts,’ she says challengingly, and I roll my eyes, the rest of the group looking between us interestedly. ‘Come on, Daisy, you know your manipulation doesn’t ever work on me,’ I reply, and she raises an eyebrow. ‘I’m not trying to manipulate you. I’m telling the truth. I’m also telling the truth when I say that I don’t think you could do it,’ she says, and I raise an eyebrow in return. ‘What do you mean?’
‘I mean, if Mr Kim would get with a student, it wouldn’t be you,’ Daisy says, and I feel a pang of hurt. ‘Daisy, don’t be nasty,’ Pearl says, and Daisy rolls her eyes. ‘You know I don’t mean it like that. Peach is hot, we all know that. Right?’ Daisy asks Jungkook and Yoongi, who both nod instantly. ‘See? But she’s too… nice, too angelic. Teachers are never interested in the nice kids, and Peach could never play the role of the bad girl,’ she says, a daring sparkle in her dark eyes, and I narrow my eyes at her.
‘Daisy, I’m a drama student. Top of the class. I’m also a thief at a reform school,’ I reply, and Honey nods. ‘Exactly. Peach could act, but she doesn’t have to. She has the bad girl in her already. What she did is probably the worst out of all of us. No offence,’ Honey says. ‘None taken.’ ‘The point is that Peach is more than capable of playing the bad girl, but it doesn’t mean she should,’ Pearl says, and Daisy laughs. ‘How can I believe you without sufficient evidence?’ Daisy asks, and I roll my eyes.
‘Daisy, I love you, but you’re so childish sometimes. You think your manipulation will work on me? I’m not going to start acting up in his lesson to prove some point to you. I could get him without turning into a bad girl anyway,’ I grin, Pearl sighing. She knows her advice was useless; we won’t listen to it. ‘You think so?’ Daisy challenges, and I nod. ‘How, Peach?’ Dream asks, and I let out a little laugh. ‘Teacher’s pet.’
‘Teacher’s pet?’ Jungkook asks, and I nod. ‘I sit at the front of the lesson, attentive and hard-working. I show up early to lessons and stay late afterwards, asking if he needs help with anything. I ask him to do extra sessions with me. The more time I spend alone with him, the more likely he is to succumb,’ I say simply. ‘God, you’re good, Peach,’ Yoongi says, and I smile serenely, watching as Daisy thinks. ‘I don’t agree.’ ‘I don’t care. It’s not like I’m gonna do it anyway. I’m just telling you how I would if I did.’ ‘My method’s better.’ ‘No, Daisy, mine is, and you know it.’
‘Prove it,’ she says gently with a grin. ‘You try your method, and I try mine. We’ll see who’s more successful,’ she says, our eyes locked together as I think over her challenge in my head. It wouldn’t kill me… right? ‘You’re on,’ I reply, and Pearl groans as the others let out various noises of excitement and interest. ‘May the best girl win,’ Daisy grins, holding a hand out to me, and I shake it firmly. ‘Trust me,’ I say with a smile, ‘she will.’ 
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‘Oh! Peach. Goodness, you scared me,’ Mr Kim says from the door. ‘Sorry, Mr Kim. I just… with our old teacher, I used to get here early and help her set up. I used to write the date on the board and tidy up if she needed me to. I thought you might like it if I did the same for you,’ I say softly, and he smiles at me. ‘That’s really nice of you, Peach. I’d appreciate that a lot, thank you,’ he says, and I smile back. ‘No problem, Sir,’ I reply.
I’m perched on his desk, phone in hand, and I watch as his eyes spot it. He doesn’t tell me to put it away. Instead his eyes travel over the rest of me, and I know exactly what he’s looking at. I spent a while looking at it myself this morning. The top two buttons of my shirt are open, revealing an ample amount of my chest, and my skirt is even higher than normal, skimming the tops of my thighs. My hair is up in a ponytail and I’ve put on a little more makeup than usual, glossy lips, shiny cheekbones, dark eyes. When his eyes meet mine, I grin and he blushes slightly. God, he’s so cute.
‘Do you have any chalk, Sir? So I can write the date?’ I ask, and he nods, putting his briefcase down on the table beside where I’m sat, opening it and rummaging around for chalk. When he finds it, he hands it to me and I take it from him, making sure my nails gently scrape against his hand as I take it. ‘Thank you, Sir,’ I say before walking around to the other side of the desk.
I check my phone for the date and write it slowly, not hearing any motion from behind me, and I know he’s watching me, probably noting how my skirt barely covers my ass. I take my time writing it, and only when I’m writing the last number do I hear him moving around, smirking to myself.
‘Okay, I’m done with the date, Sir. What else can I do?’ I ask before I drop the chalk (on purpose) and then sneakily kick it behind me. ‘Oh, God. So clumsy,’ I mutter to myself before turning around and bending over to pick it up, giving him a full view of my lacy pink underwear. When I turn back around, his eyes are on the floor and his ears are bright red, the sight making me satisfied that I’ve achieved the desired effect.
‘Sir?’ I ask again, and he coughs, looking up at me again. ‘Sorry. Um, can you… put one of each of these handouts on each desk please?’ he says, giving me a pile of different worksheets. ‘Yes, Sir,’ I say, taking the pile from him and starting to hand them out. By the time I’m done, he’s sat at his desk, glasses on and eyes focused on his laptop. ‘Done with those, Sir,’ I say, putting the spares on the desk, and he looks up at me with a smile.
‘Thank you, Peach. No problem, Sir. Anything else?’ I ask, and he shakes his head. ‘That’s it for now. You can go to the cafeteria for a while if you’d like,’ he says, and I shake my head. ‘Lesson starts in ten, I might as well just wait,’ I say, taking my seat at the front of the room and getting all of my things out and beginning to write the date into my book.
I’m practically lying across the desk, giving him a clear view down my shirt, and I know he’s enjoying it, his fingers no longer typing. Once I’ve done that, I go back on my phone, my classmates arriving one by one. Daisy and Dream walk in last, drinks in their hands. Daisy gives a smirk when she sees me, Dream’s eyes widening.
‘Peach, you look really good!’ Dream exclaims, and I smile. ‘Thanks, Dream. Nothing on you two though,’ I reply, and Daisy grins. ‘Looking like that, Peach, I want to be on you,’ Daisy says, and I let out a gentle laugh. ‘Bold of you to assume you’d top, babe,’ I reply, and she raises an eyebrow with an amused grin. ‘I love it when you talk dirty to me,’ she replies.
‘Ladies, I’m not sure this conversation is appropriate,’ Mr Kim says, voice strained and stiff, ears and cheeks red. ‘Are you being homophobic, Sir?’ Daisy asks mildly, and Mr Kim laughs. ‘Not at all. You girls can get up to whatever you want to in your free time, but I think it best you don’t discuss your activities in my lesson,’ he says amusedly, and Daisy nods, replying with, ‘fair enough.’
‘Take your seats, ladies, and we’ll begin,’ he says, and Daisy and Dream sit down on either side of me, Dream handing me a drink, my usual, as she passes by. ‘Are you allowed to have drinks in lessons?’ Mr Kim asks. ‘No, Sir,’ Daisy replies before taking a sip of her drink. ‘Noted,’ he replies amusedly before he begins the lesson.
Daisy doesn’t give him a chance to get through a single full sentence, constantly interrupting with witty one-liners, dirty jokes and double entendres. At first, Mr Kim is amused, but I can see his patience beginning to wear thin. Whereas, with me answering every question correctly, he doesn’t look at me once without smiling. Daisy’s losing this game, and we both know it, the girl scowling when he sternly tells her to stop interrupting the lesson. I shoot her a grin and she rolls her eyes, knowing full well who’s in the lead.
I also notice that he took my advice on board, starting a group discussion about the components of a realistic balanced diet, and doing a little quiz towards the end of the lesson. I get the highest score, both Daisy and Dream one mark below me, and Mr Kim gives me a lollipop as a prize. He seems to regret it a few moments later when I’m sat directly in front of him, leaning over my desk and writing with the lollipop in my mouth, trying desperately to focus his eyes elsewhere.
When we reach the end of the lesson, he sets us a 4 mark question, a very kind homework compared to all of my other subjects. When he dismisses everybody, I stay behind, waiting until the door’s fallen shut before I speak. ‘Today’s lesson was great, Sir. Better than last week,’ I say, and he smiles. ‘Thank you, Peach, that’s good to hear. I’ll continue the lessons like this then,’ he says, and I nod.  
‘Sounds good. How are you finding it here, Sir?’ I ask, and he shrugs. ‘It’s okay. My room’s decent and all of my classes are nice enough. It’s just…’ he trails off. ‘Homesick?’ I ask, and he laughs. ‘Not quite. It’s the food,’ he says, and I laugh. ‘The food’s not that bad,’ I say, and he shudders. ‘Peach, I’m a Food and Nutrition teacher. I’ve been on dozens of culinary courses. Believe me when I tell you that the food here is not that good,’ he says, and I’m surprised to hear how passionate he is about cooking.
‘Are you a really good cook then, Sir?’ I ask, and he nods. ‘You’ve gotta let us try some of your cooking sometime,’ I say, and he laughs. ‘Definitely. I’ll bring some of my baking in at one point. But for now, you’ll have to make do with the food from the cafeteria.’ ‘Honestly, Sir, if you order the right things, the food’s kinda nice. They do this cake sometimes – god, it’s to die for. I’ll bring you some next time they’re doing it,’ I say, and he nods with a smile. ‘That’d be great, Peach.’
‘Well, I’m gonna head off, unless you need me to do anything?’ I ask, and he thinks for a moment before shaking his head. ‘Nope, you’re free to go,’ he smiles, and I smile back. ‘Okay, Sir. See you next week,’ I say. ‘Bye, Peach,’ he says as I head to the door, and I hear him let out a long drawn out sigh as I shut the door behind me.
Dream and Daisy are waiting for me a little further down the corridor and I grin as I walk towards them, a little pep in my walk. Dream smiles at me affectionately and I throw my arms around them both. ‘Isn’t it just a great day, guys?’ I say happily, Dream nodding with a grin, and Daisy grumbles under her breath. ‘Relax, you haven’t won yet,’ she says to me, and I laugh.
‘Yeah, and you haven’t either. And I’m pretty sure you won’t. But we can keep this going if that’s what you want,’ I say, and she raises an eyebrow. ‘Are you sure? I will be stepping it up next week,’ she says, and I laugh. ‘So will I, babe, don’t you worry,’ I say, and she grins at me. ‘I can’t wait to see what both of you do next week. Now, come on, it’s a nice day, let’s go sit outside for a little while,’ Dream suggests.
‘Good idea. Let’s stop at the cafeteria on the way and get Honey and Pearl. And the boys, if any of them are there,’ Daisy says. Five minutes later, us five girls are sunbathing on the grassy bank beside where the football pitch is, Yoongi, Namjoon, Jimin and Jungkook all playing football. We gossip idly, Honey playing music from her phone, and the atmosphere is so nice. The sun beats down onto us, a very gentle breeze cooling us down, and the sky is a bright blue, fluffy white clouds dotted around.
‘Daisy,’ Pearl says, interrupting the current discussion about Queen and whether or not she’s dating Daniel. ‘Yeah?’ Daisy replies without opening her eyes, lying on her back. ‘What’s that on your neck?’ Pearl asks slowly, and we all look at Daisy’s neck, spotting the purplish bruise disrupting her smooth and clear skin.
‘Oh. I forgot to tell you guys. Jimin stopped at my room last night,’ she says with a smirk, all of us gasping. ‘So he’s broken up with that little girlfriend of his?’ Honey asks, and Pearl gives her a disapproving look for referring to the girl like that. ‘Apparently so. I told you I’d get him back,’ she says smugly, and I shake my head. ‘You official with him?’ Honey asks, and Daisy scoffs. ‘We’ve never been official, and we never will be. You know that’s not how we work,’ Daisy replies, all of us rolling our eyes.
‘I wonder if he knows that you’re trying to get with Mr Kim,’ I say, and she sits up, rolling her eyes. ‘Of course he knows. All the boys know about our challenge. They placed bets and everything,’ she says, and my mouth falls open. ‘This is news to me,’ I say, and she grins. ‘Well, Jungkook and Yoongi were there when we first discussed our… competition, and it’s not like they’d keep their mouths shut about something so interesting. Of course they were gonna tell the other boys,’ Daisy says, and I sigh, annoyed that the boys know about something like this.
If it got out that Daisy and I were doing this, I can’t even imagine the trouble we’d get into. ‘Why’d you look so troubled, Peach? Got an issue with the boys knowing about it? Because we can call it off if you want,’ Daisy smirks at me, and I roll my eyes, wanting to knock the girl off her high horse. ‘No, I’m just worried about you. It won’t be good for your pride for the boys to see you lose to me,’ I say, Daisy rolling her eyes in return. ‘We’ll see.’ ‘We will.’
‘Ladies, how are we all on this fine day?’ Hoseok says as he throws himself down onto the grass beside us, the other boys following suit. ‘We’re good. Just discussing Peach and Daisy’s bet, dare, competition thing,’ Dream says, and I shoot her a look, the girl grinning mischievously in response, prompting me to stick my tongue out at her. ‘Oh, yeah, Yoongi mentioned it to me. Sounds interesting,’ Namjoon says, the boys all nodding in agreement.
‘I’m assuming this competition thing is the reason behind your new look, Peach,’ Jimin says, and I nod. ‘I just hope this look works because I don’t want to be hoeing it up every Monday for no reason,’ I say, everyone laughing. ‘Well, I certainly like this look of yours, Peach. Mr Kim must be either insane or a monk if it doesn’t work,’ Taehyung says with a flirty smirk and a sparkle in his eye.
We’re all more than used to Taehyung’s flirty nature (though Jimin can put him to shame if he’s in the mood), but I still can’t help but glance over to Angel to see her reaction. It used to really bother her when her boyfriend flirted with her friends, regardless of it being jokey, but she’s gotten used to it over time. She’s lying on her back, enjoying the sun with her eyes closed, obviously only half paying attention to the conversation.
‘Thanks, Tae. I just… don’t you feel like it’s too much? I feel like a cheap whore,’ I say, Pearl making a disapproving noise. ‘Stop feeding into misogynistic ideas about women, Peach,’ she says, but before I can reply, the boys all start talking. ‘No, Peach, you look good.’ ‘You don’t look like a whore at all.’ ‘You could definitely get away with another button open if you wanted to.’ ‘Don’t be silly, Peach, other girls do way more than you.’ ‘You look like this look is unintentional.’ ‘It’s sexy, Peach, not whorish at all.’
‘Thanks guys,’ I say, just as Pearls breaks into a coughing fit. ‘You okay?’ Honey asks, hitting her on the back. ‘I’m fine. Just allergic to all the misogyny that just came out of all of their mouths,’ she says drily, us girls laughing as the boys all shake their heads and roll their eyes.
‘Get used to it, Pearl. It’s never going to change,’ Namjoon says, and Pearl narrows her eyes at him. ‘Not if people like you exist,’ she says, and I can sense an argument brewing between the two of them. They’ve always had a tense relationship, having been competing with each other academically since Pearl started in ninth year and threatened Namjoon’s place at the top of the class in all of the subjects they have together.
‘Anyway. Should I carry on with this look then?’ I ask, and everyone nods. ‘I think you should have this look every day, Peach, not just Mondays. Let the rest of us appreciate it too,’ Jimin says with a small grin, eyes piercing and hooded, and I have to fight to not sound breathless when I reply, ‘I’ll consider it.’
Daisy looks between us amusedly; she’s never felt threatened by Jimin’s flirting because she knows that whilst she might not own his eyes (which wander all the time), her name is written across his heart. He’s hers and everybody knows it. God help the person that gets between them. ‘If you do, Peach, you’ll practically own any boy at this school. Maybe even some of the girls too,’ Yoongi jokes, all of laughing.
‘We all know that if Peach were to get with a girl, it would be me,’ Daisy says confidently, and I roll my eyes, though I’m not quite sure whether it’s a lie or not. We played truth or dare a couple years ago, and she was dared to kiss me. Let’s just say, I’ve seen her kiss Jimin the same way, just before they disappear to one of their dorms. And I didn’t exactly dislike it either.
‘Aren’t you gonna deny it, Peach?’ Taehyung asks after a few moments of my silence, licking his lips with a glint in his eye. ‘Why would I deny it? I’m not a liar,’ I say serenely, hunger practically emanating from the boys. Daisy winks at me from across the group and I grin back, the boys watching with desperate interest, the girls completely unbothered; they’re used to Daisy flirting with all of us.
‘Well, Peach, if you ever wanna join Daisy and I, you know where to find us. Or if Daisy’s busy, you know where to find me,’ Jimin says, and I roll my eyes. ‘Down, boy,’ I reply, everyone laughing as Jimin grins. ‘I don’t mind spectating,’ he says, and Daisy rolls her eyes. ‘Not for free, babe.’ ‘So I’m guessing,’ Yoongi begins with a playful grin, ‘you’re gonna say no to the rest of us watching too?’
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‘Morning, Peach,’ Mr Kim says when he enters the classroom. ‘Morning, Sir. How was your weekend?’ I ask, with a smile. I’m sat on his desk, just like every Monday, and I’m dressed provocatively, just like every Monday. Short skirt, unbuttoned shirt, pretty bra visible through my shirt and pants visible when I bend over, peach hair up in a ponytail and just a little bit of makeup.
‘It was good, thank you, Peach. I went home on Friday night and I just arrived back this morning,’ he says with a smile, putting his briefcase down onto the desk beside where I sit. Just like every Monday, he opens his briefcase and pulls out a lollipop, handing it to me, and I grin back at him. And just like every Monday, I reach into my bag and hand him a piece of cake wrapped up in foil, and he takes it with a smile. His hands linger on mine for a moment, eyes locked, before he pulls his hands away, putting the cake into his briefcase without looking at me.
‘That must have been nice, Sir. How’s Mrs Kim?’ I ask, noting the way he blinks a few times, just as he does whenever I say her name. ‘She’s… she’s okay,’ he replies, and I raise an eyebrow at him. ‘That doesn’t sound very convincing. Less and less convincing each week, Sir,’ I say, and he lets out a gentle laugh. ‘It’s difficult, Peach. Married life is difficult. You’ll understand one day,’ he says, and I pull a face.
‘Me? Getting married? You must be crazy, Sir,’ I say, kissing my teeth, and Mr Kim bursts out laughing. ‘Why not, Peach? Marriage is a beautiful thing.’ ‘Oh, yeah, sure seems beautiful, based on the way you sigh and frown whenever I bring up your wife,’ I say sarcastically, and the smile disappears from Mr Kim’s face, the man looking down at his briefcase unseeingly.
‘No, marriage isn’t for me. I’d rather travel the world with my friends and have a string of glamorous love affairs that I can one day tell my friends’ kids about,’ I say, and Mr Kim laughs. ‘Where will you get the money from for this, Peach?’ he asks, and I grin. ‘How I was planning to get my money for Glastonbury,’ I say with a wink at him. He laughs, shaking his head, ears reddening slightly.
‘Well, I hope these plans work out for you, Peach. If I ever meet a man whose heart was broken by a mysterious beautiful girl with peach hair, I’ll tell him he was lucky to have even met you in the first place,’ he says, my heart warming at his kind words, and my cheeks warming at hearing him call me beautiful. ‘Thanks, Sir,’ I say shyly, and he laughs. ‘Oh, don’t act all coy now,’ he chuckles, trying to act cool but his reddened ears betraying him, before moving around to the other side of his desk.
Just like every Monday, I take the chalk out of his briefcase and go around to the blackboard. I write up the date, my ass mere centimetres from the back of Mr Kim’s head. Still thinking about what he just said, I’m distracted, and so the chalk slips between my fingers. ‘Butterfingers,’ Mr Kim teases when he hears the chalk hit the floor, and I laugh as I bend down to grab it. My ass hits the back of his seat, and I fall forward from the impact.
Mr Kim spins around, a worried look on his face, and I burst out laughing at myself crumpled up on the floor, the man joining in too. ‘Come on,’ he says, getting up from his seat and tucking it in so he has space to pull me up from the floor. He holds out a hand to me and I take it, his other hand wrapping around my waist as he helps me up. ‘You’re so clumsy, Peach,’ he says, hands still around me, his eyes unwaveringly locked with mine.  
For a moment, just a moment, I think he’s going to kiss me, our heads moving closer together as my lips part, and my heart rate rockets. And then there’s a knock at the door. We instantly jump apart from one another, and I quickly grab a stack of worksheets on the desk. ‘Come in!’ Mr Kim calls, his voice slightly shaky, as I begin to walk around the classroom, putting one worksheet on each desk.
One of the deputies, Mrs Lee, walks in, bidding me good morning before talking to Mr Kim about some stupid briefing this Wednesday. What feels like a million years later, she finally leaves, and I turn to look at Mr Kim with a grin, the teacher smiling back at me.
The rest of my class starts arriving then, and I take my seat at the front, writing up the date in my book. When Daisy and Dream arrive, Dream hands me my drink and we idly chat about the upcoming prom, mere weeks away, until Mr Kim begins the lesson. It seems that Daisy’s given up on our competition, having gotten bored after four weeks. Now, two and a half months after I first met Mr Kim, it’s no longer about the competition for me.
I get on with him so well, and he’s so kind. I’m doing so well in this class, better than I’ve ever done it in before, and I find it so fun, because he’s the one teaching it to me. Whenever I get an answer right, or raise my hand to ask a question, or even just make eye contact with him, he gives me this smile, and my heart melts every time. Our conversations before and after class are the highlights of my week, and when we catch each other in the corridor, I replay the moment in my head over and over again. He’s just so… mature, and he really gets me.
I think I’m slowly falling in love with him.
The lesson flies by in a blur of shy glances, gentle smiles, subtle touches and locked eyes, and when everyone leaves, I stay behind, just like every Monday. ‘Sir,’ I say, and he smiles at me. ‘Yes, Peach?’ he asks, and I sigh. ‘Um, it might not be my place to say this, but I feel like you’re not really close with any of the other teachers, so I don’t think you’ve got anyone to talk to, and I thought you might want to get it off your chest, so I wanted to ask what’s going on with your wife?’ I say all in one breath, and the smile slowly disappears from Mr Kim’s face as I speak.
He sighs, taking off his glasses, and leaning back in his seat as he pinches the bridge of his nose. ‘Oh, Peach,’ he says tiredly, and my heart jumps. ‘Sir, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked. It’s none of my business. I’ll just get go-’ ‘No, Peach, it’s okay,’ he says, getting up from behind his desk and coming to sit in Daisy’s seat beside me.
‘You’re right, Peach. I’m not close with any of the teachers, and I don’t have anyone to confide in. but that doesn’t mean I should confide in you,’ he says gently, and I sigh. ‘Sir, can we be honest here?’ I ask, and he nods, though he looks slightly nervous. ‘Our relationship is already pushing the boundaries. And you and I both know that this isn’t accidental. It’s intentional, on my part. And you haven’t rebuffed my advances once. You’ve encouraged them. And we’re both in the wrong, you and I both know that.’
He sighs, sitting back in his seat. ‘But it’s wrong, Peach. It’s so wrong,’ he says, and I laugh humourlessly. ‘It doesn’t feel wrong. But we’ve already slightly broken the rules. Why not just go all the way?’ I ask, and his eyes lock with mine, his tongue poking at his cheek. ‘What are you saying?’ ‘You know what I’m saying. But, wait. We’ll come back to that. Tell me about your wife first. You need to get it off your chest. I can tell it’s affecting you.’
He’s silent for a few seconds before he finally speaks. ‘We were so happy, so in love. And then I started teaching here. And I met you on my very first day. And my first night sleeping here, instead of thinking of her, I thought of you. The girl with the peach hair. I was thinking about my wife less and less, and you more and more. And then… the first time I went home to visit her, after a few weeks of working here, and we had sex, I…’ he trails off, and I know exactly what the rest of the sentence is. I was thinking of you.
My heart is nearly beating out of my chest at his confession, and I’m trying not to jump up and celebrate. ‘You’re just… you’re so grown up, Peach, and I see you as an equal rather than as my student. You just… you get me. And you’re beautiful, Peach, you’d have to be blind not to see that,’ he says, and I blush, unable to believe my ears. He likes me too. He really likes me too.
‘And my wife knows that there’s someone else. I don’t know how, but she knows,’ he says, stress written all over his face. ‘Women always know,’ I reply, and he nods. ‘Yeah. She knows. So she confronted me about it on the weekend. Because she said I’ve been distant, that I’ve been avoiding sex, that I’ve been coming home less than I promised I would, that I never text or call her. And she asked who the woman is. I didn’t have the heart to tell her it isn’t even an affair, and it’s just a crush that has me like this,’ he says.
‘So… so what are you gonna do now? What did you tell her?’ ‘I lied. I said there’s no one else. That I’m just busy and stressed, but she knows. Anyway, she said she wants to work on us, she wants to try and fall in love again, like the way we were before. We’re high school sweethearts, you see, and I proposed to her fresh out of uni. We got married a few months later, and only three months after that, I started here. Maybe we rushed into it, because now… I’ve fallen out of love with her.’
I’m in complete shock. I can’t believe what I’m hearing. But I know I can’t let this pass me by. He feels the same way. I have to seize the moment.
‘Sir, I… I really like you. And you really like me. I don’t… I’m not seeing an issue here,’ I say, and he laughs humourlessly. ‘Peach, you don’t even know how much I wish I could agree. But I’m married. I’m your teacher. If we were found out, I’d lose my job, and I’d never be able to teach again,’ he says, and I sigh.
‘Mr Kim, no one would ever know. I won’t breathe a word, and neither will you,’ I say, and he sighs. ‘I… what are you suggesting, Peach?’ he asks, and I feel a rush of excitement that he’s actually considering it. ‘I mean… I don’t think we’d get away with you coming to my room. But I could go to yours. We could say that you’re tutoring me,’ I suggest, and he thinks for a moment.
‘Give… give me some time to consider this, Peach. Because I need… I need to consider whether or not this is worth it,’ he says, and I frown. ‘You don’t think I’m worth it?’ I ask, and his face falls. ‘No, Peach, that’s not… that’s not what I’m saying. You know what I mean,’ he says, and I stand up. ‘No, Sir, I’m not sure that I do. Forget I said anything,’ I say, and he gets up too, panic on his face.
‘Let’s discuss this, Peach, don’t leave,’ he says as I begin gathering up my things. ‘I think it’s best that I do,’ I say, brushing past him and leaving the room. When the door falls shut, I grin to myself, knowing my plan will just fall into place now, and I join my friends who wait for me in the corridor. ‘Did it work?’ Dream asks and I smile. ‘We’ll see.’
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‘Peach! Peach!’ I hear Angel calling from behind me, and we turn to see her rushing towards us with Sunshine, the boys following leisurely behind them. ‘What? What’s happened?’ I ask when she reaches us, and she grins. ‘The whole school is talking about you. It worked,’ she says, and I grin. ‘I told you it would,’ Daisy says, and I roll my eyes.
‘I came up with the plan,’ I say, and she raises an eyebrow. ‘Half of the plan. And I lent you my man to enact this plan,’ she says, and I laugh. ‘Come, let’s go sit outside,’ Taehyung says when the boys reach our group, and we all head out to our usual spot outside, where we can talk freely with no one eavesdropping.
‘I’ve had loads of people asking me this morning if it’s true,’ Jimin says as I sit down beside Dream, the girl instantly resting her head on my thigh. ‘What did you say?’ ‘I didn’t say yes, and I didn’t say no. I was just laughing, or I said that ‘a gentleman never tells’ or some stupid shit like that,’ he says, and we all laugh.
‘It was genius, Peach. It happened exactly the way you said it would,’ Hoseok says, Sunshine’s head against his shoulder and his arm around her waist. ‘Let’s just hope it gets back to Mr Kim,’ Namjoon says, and Honey scoffs. ‘Of course it will. The whole school is talking about it. You don’t think he’ll hear people in his classes talking about how Peach slept with her best friend’s man?’ she says with a raised eyebrow.
‘What if he doesn’t buy it, though? He knows Peach well enough to know that that’s something she’d never do,’ Dream says, and Yoongi sighs. ‘Yeah, but we never thought Peach would try to seduce a teacher, and here we are,’ he says, and I frown at him. I don’t like it when they say I’m trying to seduce him. This isn’t just about sex. This is something more. I can’t tell them that, though. They wouldn’t understand.
‘And, anyway, I think that a group of people seeing Peach sneaking out of Jimin’s room at like two in the morning, wearing his clothes with her hair a mess and her mascara streaming down her face means that it’s more than likely people will believe it,’ Pearl says drily, and we all laugh, blood rushing to my face.
‘What did you guys actually do?’ Jungkook asks, and Jimin smirks. ‘Guess,’ he says with a grin in my direction, and I roll my eyes. ‘We chose suitable clothes of his for me to wear for when I left, messed up my hair and smudged my makeup across my face,’ I say, and Pearl narrows her eyes at me. ‘For like four hours?’ she asks, and Jimin grins at me. ‘And we played scrabble,’ I say, the others bursting out laughing.
‘Scrabble? Is that a euphemism for something?’ Taehyung asks, and Jimin shakes his head, still grinning. ‘We sat there, on my bed, and played scrabble for three hours,’ he says, and Daisy looks between us. ‘Who won?’ she asks. ‘Peach,’ he admits straight away, and I smile proudly. ‘Of course I did. He wanted to play strip scrabble,’ I say, Daisy swatting at him amusedly as the others laugh.
‘Yeah, so we compromised,’ he says mysteriously, our friends looking intrigued as I roll my eyes at Jimin. ‘We played dirty scrabble.’ ‘Dirty scrabble?’ Namjoon asks interestedly. ‘Scrabble with dirty words only. I’d have gotten bored otherwise. But I was surprised at how… vast Peach’s vocabulary is,’ Jimin says with another smirk at me, and I feel my face heating again.
‘You out-dirtied Jimin?’ Namjoon asks, the whole group looking surprised, and I nod with a small smile. ‘Our Peach is a dark horse,’ Daisy grins at me, and I grin back. ‘Okay, I hate to change the subject, but, like… what are you guys gonna do now?’ Yoongi asks, directing the question at Daisy and I. ‘What do you mean?’ ‘I mean, you supposedly slept with her man. Shouldn’t Daisy act like she’s angry at you?’ Yoongi says, and I shrug.
‘It’s fine. Look how many rumours there have been; we haven’t let those affect our friendships, because we know they aren’t real,’ I say, and Yoongi shakes his head. ‘But you want people to believe this one, surely?’ ‘It’s fine. As long as Mr Kim has heard the rumour, that’s all that matters,’ I say, and Pearl raises an eyebrow. ‘So what happens now then? What is your plan after this?’ she asks, and I hesitate for a moment.
‘I don’t know yet,’ I lie, not wanting them all to know. I only need to tell two people; nobody else needs to know. And I think it’s best to keep this as quiet as possible. Because it’s where things start to get serious.
So, hours later, in the literal dead of night, I sneak out of my room, praying no one sees me. When I reach my destination, I knock carefully on the door, making sure it’s not loud enough for anyone else to hear. The door opens a few seconds later, and a cosy Jungkook stands on the other side of it, dressed in his pyjamas with his hair a fluffy mess. ‘Peach?’ he asks but I shush him, pushing past him into the front hallway.
‘I need your help,’ I say once he’s shut the door, and he looks confusedly at me. ‘My help? What with?’ he asks, just as Yoongi pops his head in from the bedroom. ‘Peach?’ ‘I need your help too.’ ‘Come sit in here,’ Yoongi says, turning back into the bedroom. Jungkook and I follow behind, and I take a moment to look around their room.
It’s neat and tidy, very minimalistic, with two beds a few feet apart from each other, a TV mounted on the wall, and several computer screens set up on a desk, a game paused on one of them. ‘What’s up, Peach? Is everything okay?’ Jungkook asks, concerned. ‘Everything’s fine. It’s not, like, serious. I just need your guys’ help. But… no one else can know,’ I say, both of them raising their eyes. ‘Um…’ Yoongi says, and I sigh.
‘Please? I swear, it’s not that bad. I just… I need you guys to not tell anyone,’ I say, and Jungkook sighs. ‘I won’t say anything,’ he says before both of us look to Yoongi. ‘Fine, I won’t either. Now, what is it?’ Yoongi asks, and I grin.
‘You know how there’s a camera in every classroom?’ I say, both of them nodding. ‘I need you guys to disable to one in Mr Kim’s classroom,’ I say, both of their eyes widening. ‘You’re kidding?’ Jungkook asks, and I shake my head. ‘I’m not. I just…’ I begin, but Yoongi waves me off. ‘You don’t need to explain; we’re not stupid, we know exactly why you want us to disable the cameras.’
‘But… won’t they realise straight away? If the camera isn’t working, they’ll just get someone to fix it,’ Jungkook says, and I sigh. ‘I only need it disabled up until Monday’s lesson.’ ‘I’ve got an idea. What if… instead of disabling the camera… we loop the footage from last week?’ Yoongi says, directing the question to Jungkook. ‘Good idea. But how?’ Jungkook asks, and Yoongi laughs. ‘Don’t act like we haven’t hacked into the school cameras before.’
‘Yeah, but we did that to delete footage. Not loop it,’ Jungkook says, and Yoongi raises an eyebrow. ‘It’s not like we won’t be able to do it, we’re practically experts after years of computer science. It might take a while, but it’s night time, so it’s not like anyone will notice that we’re messing around with the systems. We can take as long as we need. Let’s at least give it a go,’ Yoongi says, and Jungkook hesitates before sighing.
‘Fine, let’s do it. But I’m gonna need snacks,’ he says, and I grin, holding up the bag in my hand. ‘I came prepared,’ I say, both of them grinning. ‘Won’t your roommate notice you’re gone?’ Jungkook asks, and I shake my head. ‘If Angel can sleep through Taehyung’s sleep-talking, sleep-walking and cuddling, she can sleep through anything. That girl needs a foghorn to wake her up,’ I say, both of them laughing. ‘Right, then,’ Yoongi says, ‘let’s get to it.’
The boys spend the entire night at the desk, hacking into the school’s CCTV systems and looping the footage, whilst I watch You on Netflix, nap, and hand them snacks and drinks as and when they need them. The boys finish at sunrise, Jungkook instantly crawling into his bed and passing out as Yoongi shows me what they’ve done.
‘So, long story short, the footage from the past week is looped. It will keep playing again and again until someone realises and changes it, but I doubt anyone will notice it for a long time. So you’re free to do whatever you want in that classroom without it being caught on camera. I’ll keep checking up on it to make sure it hasn’t been discovered,’ he says. ‘Thank you, Yoongi, you’re the best. And tell Jungkook I said thanks to him too,’ I say, both of us looking at him fast asleep on his bed.
‘Yeah, of course. Just shout us whenever you need help with anything. And, don’t worry, we won’t mention anything to anyone. Now, you go, get some sleep. I think the others were saying they want to spend the day at the football pitch today so make sure you’re there, and not looking tired, or they’ll suspect something,’ he says, and my heart warms at his kindness.
‘Okay, Yoongi. See you later. And thanks, again, for your help,’ I say, and he grins. ‘It’s cool. Just make sure that you fill us in on whatever happens with Mr Kim tomorrow. If anything does happen, that is,’ he says mischievously, and I grin. ‘Oh, don’t worry,’ I grin back, ‘there’ll be plenty to tell.’ 
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‘Peach? Do you mind staying behind please?’ Mr Kim says as I begin to walk towards the door with Daisy and Dream, and I grin to myself before I turn back to him sullenly. He waits for everyone to leave the room before he speaks. ‘Take a seat,’ he says, and I scowl. ‘I’d rather stand.’ ‘Peach, don’t be like that. Please, just sit down,’ he says and, with as much attitude as possible, I sit down in my seat.
‘Why weren’t you here at the beginning of the lesson?’ he asks, looking concerned, and I laugh humourlessly. ‘I don’t want to be where I’m not wanted,’ I reply, and he looks so pained. I actually feel a little guilty. ‘Peach, come on. You know that that wasn’t what I meant last week. I’m just worried about the consequences. I could lose my job,’ he says, and I roll my eyes.
‘No one would ever find out,’ I say, and he sighs. ‘I know you wouldn’t say anything, Peach, but that’s not to say that nobody will find out. Someone could just walk in at any moment,’ he says, and I look at the door. ‘There’s a lock,’ I say, and he sighs again. ‘The camera?’ he says, and I raise an eyebrow. ‘What if I told you I’ve taken care of it?’ I say carefully, and his eyes widen. ‘Please tell me you’re joking,’ he says, grabbing on to his temples. ‘I’d be lying if I did. Sir, I’m serious about this,’ I say, and he’s silent for a few moments, head in his hands.
I take the silence as my opportunity. ‘What if I persuade you, Sir?’ I ask, and he looks up at me, only his eyes uncovered by his hands. ‘Pardon?’ he asks, voice muffled, and I get up from my seat, slowly walking to the door. ‘I said… what if I persuade you?’ I say, leaning against the door, Mr Kim’s eyes on my fingers as they turn the lock. ‘Peach,’ he says in a strained voice, and I know it’s working, my heart beating so fast.
‘Sir, stop stressing, for just a minute. You worry too much,’ I say, and he sighs. ‘It’s in my nature,’ he says, and I roll my eyes. ‘It was in mine too. And then I realised life’s too short to worry about everything. I didn’t worry about stealing designer things to sell so I could go to Glastonbury, and I’m glad I didn’t worry about it,’ I say, and he raises an eyebrow at me.
‘You’re glad?’ ‘Yes, I’m glad. Because of it, I’m away from my stupid parents, at a school with a group of people that I love. And I’ve met you,’ I say, and he just stares at me, face unreadable. ‘Life’s too short to worry,’ I repeat, and I can practically see the battle between his head and his heart. His heart seems to win.
‘Persuade me then,’ he whispers, the words nearly making me cry from happiness. ‘Pardon?’ I ask, wanting to hear him say the words again. ‘I said, persuade me then,’ he says, all the stress and worry suddenly disappearing, a small smirk now on his face. Taking my time, I walk over to him, joining him behind the desk, and I grab on to his tie. He grins at me as I pull him up from his seat, before looking over at the camera.
‘Are you sure you handled it?’ he asks, and I nod. ‘Want proof?’ I ask, and he nods. I grab my phone out of my bra, his eyes lingering on the curves of my breasts as I dial Yoongi’s number, putting the phone on loudspeaker. ‘Hey, Peach,’ he says, his voice ringing out into the room. ‘Can you check the camera for me?’ I ask, and he lets out a gentle laugh before I hear some movement and then some typing.
‘According to the camera, Mr Kim is sat at his desk, marking. No one else is in the room,’ he says, and I grin at Mr Kim who looks shocked. ‘Okay. Thanks, Yoongi, you’re the best,’ I say, and he laughs again. ‘No problem. Have fun,’ he says amusedly before the phone cuts off. ‘Does he know?’ Mr Kim asks, and I shrug. ‘I haven’t said anything to him about why I wanted the camera hacked, but he’s probably worked it out. He won’t say anything,’ I say, Mr Kim nodding, obviously slightly nervous.
‘Stop worrying. It’s okay,’ I say gently before I wrap my arms around his neck, pulling him down towards me. I close my eyes and wait for him to kiss me. When I feel his soft lips brush against mine, I supress a celebratory shout, instantly pulling him closer to me.
Within moments, the kiss has gone from tame and innocent, to passionate and desperate. His hands furiously trail up and down my body, our mouths moving in sync. He pushes his tongue between my lips, and I sigh into his mouth at the feeling. He wraps his hands into my hair and accidently tugs it, but I let out a gentle moan against his lips.
‘Fuck. Fuck, you like that?’ he asks, mouth still pressed against mine, and I nod. He pulls my hair again, this time harder, and I moan again, the sound obviously driving him crazy. He pulls away from me and lifts me up to sit on his desk before his lips attach to mine again. I wrap my legs around him, sitting on the edge of the desk so that our bodies are completely pressed up against each other.
I can feel how hard he is, his bulge pressed against my upper thigh, and a surge of confidence makes me palm him through his trousers. ‘Fuck, Peach,’ he groans, the sounding making me let out a shaky breath. ‘Can I… can I do something?’ I ask against his mouth, pulling away a few moments later. ‘Do what?’ he asks, and I grin.
‘I want your lollipop,’ I joke, and he laughs. ‘I’ve got some in my briefcase,’ he jokes, and I raise an eyebrow, holding back a laugh. ‘I want the one in your trousers instead,’ I say, looking up at him through my lashes, and his eyes darken, a smile on his face. ‘Who am I to deprive my best student?’ he says lowly, and I grin.
I get up from the desk, grabbing his tie again and walking backwards around the desk. I sit down in his seat, and he grins down at me. ‘Authority suits you. You look good in that chair,’ he says, and I let out a gentle laugh. 'I’ll look even better when I’ve got your dick in my mouth,’ I say lightly, and he chokes, coaxing a laugh out of me. ‘Let’s test that then,’ he says, and I grin. ‘Gladly.’
I pull down the zip of his trousers, purposely scraping my nails against his bulge. I push his trousers down just to the tops of his trousers, and his underwear goes down with them. His length, hard and red, springs up and slaps against his clothed stomach, and I try not to actually salivate. He’s long and thick, smooth with a prominent vein running along the underside, and his head is swollen, already leaking with precum.
My tongue darts out to wet my lip before I spit on my hands, Mr Kim watching me with interest. Gently, I place my hands on his length and run them up and down the shaft, revelling in pride from hearing the hitch in his breath. I lean forward, tentatively licking the precum from his tip, looking up at him with big eyes, and he groans. ‘God, Peach, you’re so fucking sexy,’ he breathes out, just before I sink my mouth down around him until he hits the back of my throat.
His hips buck up, pushing down my throat, and I gag around him, as he moans. I take a moment to compose myself before I start bobbing my head up and down his cock. ‘Yes, Peach, God, that feels so good,’ he grunts, gathering my hair into his hands and holding it back from my mouth. I lick along his vein, hands cupping his balls, before I swirl my tongue around his head.
‘You suck dick like a pro,’ he breathes out, and I grin up at him. ‘Thank you,’ I say before sinking my mouth back down onto his length. Obviously he’s getting close, moans and curses falling frequently from between his plump lips, and it’s as though he can’t control himself, starting to thrust into my mouth. I grip onto his strong thighs as he rams into my mouth, forcing himself further and further down my throat with each thrust. And then there’s a knock on the door.
Mr Kim panics, but my brain engages instantly. I pull boxers and trousers back up, quickly zipping him up, before I push him towards the door and hide myself under his desk. Mr Kim takes a couple deep breaths before he unlocks and opens the door, and I hold a hand over myself to stop the loud breathing.
‘Mr Kim. Why was the door locked?’ a voice asks, and I recognise it straight away. Mrs Choi, the strictest deputy headteacher. ‘Somebody kept pushing it open and running away, and it was annoying me, Mrs Choi,’ Mr Kim replies instantly, and I’m impressed at how quickly he thought of that reply. ‘Oh. Well, I need to speak to you about something. Let’s sit,’ she says, and I hear her enter the room, taking a seat on the other side of the desk. Her feet are mere inches from where I’m sat on the floor, only a wooden panel separating us.
Mr Kim takes his seat opposite her, slotting his legs around either side of me, and my head is centimetres from his crotch. The idea forms in my mind straight away, and I grin to myself, adrenaline running through my body.
‘What would you like to speak about, Mrs Choi?’ Mr Kim asks, just as I rest my hands on his knees. His body tenses beneath my hands, before relaxing a few moments later. ‘I’d actually like to speak to you about your twelfth-year class,’ she says, and I move my hands further up his legs. ‘Are you finding any problems with them?’ she asks, as I unzip his trousers as slowly and quietly as possible.
‘Um, no. They’re a fantastic group. High ability and a pleasure to teach,’ he says, voice tense. I’m not surprised, considering I’m pulling his still rock-hard dick out of his underwear as I unbutton my blouse so that if he looks down, he’ll get an eyeful of my boobs, spilling out of my bra. ‘Is that so? No problems at all?’ she asks as I lean forward and put my mouth around his head, staying still once I’ve done so. ‘No, Mrs Choi, none,’ he replies, hands finding my shoulders. I wait for him to push me away, but he surprises me, pulling me closer to him so that my mouth sinks all the way down onto his cock.
‘Really? I’m surprised to hear that. Am I mistaken in thinking you have Daisy, Peach and Dream in your class?’ she asks, and I try not to react at hearing my name from her mouth. ‘No, you are not mistaken,’ he replies, hands on my neck, holding me still, and I realise what he’s doing. He’s turned the tables back on to me. Instead of me torturing him beneath the desk, he’s torturing me, forcing me to hold his cock in my mouth with no movement.
‘And they don’t cause you any problems?’ she asks. ‘No, they’re brilliant students. Engaged in the lesson, intelligent, hard-working, helpful. They’re a lovely group of girls,’ he says, and Mrs Choi is silent, obviously surprised. ‘I must say, I’m shocked to hear you think so, especially of Daisy. We’ve had issues with her since she arrived. Dream and Peach, not as much, but still. They’re all part of the worst friendship group in the school. Their friendship group is the root of nearly all problems within their year group.’ Lovely.
‘That’s surprising to hear. I’ve never had any issues with them. A little talkative at times, but nothing more. They’re on track to achieve the best grades in the class,’ he says, and my heart swells at hearing him speak about us like this when no teacher ever has before. ‘That’s pleasing to hear. They must really like you, Mr Kim,’ Mrs Choi says, and Mr Kim lets out a gentle laugh. ‘I’d like to think they do,’ he says, and it’s obvious he’s thinking about the fact that one of the students must definitely like him because she’s under the table with his dick in her mouth.
‘Well, as it’s reaching the end of their time at the school, we’re looking for… a valedictorian, of sorts. A student, or even multiple, to give a speech at their end-of-year prom. Do you have any recommendations?’ she asks, and I’m curious to hear what he has to say. ‘Any of the three girls. Dream, Daisy or Peach. Or all three of them,’ he says instantly, and my heart warms. ‘That’s not the first recommendation I’ve had for those girls and the rest of their friends. It’s obvious they’re popular with the staff, despite being troublemakers,’ she says, almost fondly, and I think back to all the times we’ve been shouted at in Mrs Choi’s office. Now that I think about it, we almost always have a lecture from her, almost like the lectures you get from your mother. She must have a soft spot for us. Bless her.
‘Well, thank you for your recommendations, Mr Kim. We’ll definitely take them into consideration. I will leave you to your marking now,’ she says, her chair scraping against the floor as she gets up. I hope she doesn’t point out my belongings sat on my desk. ‘Thank you, Mrs Choi. See you later,’ Mr Kim says, and she bids him goodbye before leaving.
As soon as the door shuts behind her, I’m taking him as far down my throat as possible, and he stifles a moan. ‘Let me lock the door, Peach,’ he breathes out, hands weakly trying to push me off, but I ignore him, wanting to make him cum as soon as possible. ‘Fuck, Peach, someone could come in,’ he says pleadingly, but his words are broken up by moans, and I know that the thought of someone entering is turning him on even more, because it’s not long before his cock is twitching in my mouth.
‘Fuck, Peach, I’m gonna cum,’ he groans, and I pull him out of my mouth. I tug at his length with one hand, playing with his balls with the other, and his orgasm hits him within seconds. He throws his head back, face scrunching up, as his hands tighten on my shoulders. He lets out a long, drawn out moan of my name as his hot cum spurts out of the tip, covering my chin, neck and breasts. It’s as though he hasn’t cum properly in a while, depositing an endless amount over my face.
He looks down at me once he’s done, cursing under his breath at the sight of me. I gather some of his release up from my chin and lick it off my finger, the man biting his lip at the sight. ‘Sorry. I don’t usually cum so quick,’ he says sheepishly, moving back and helping me get up from under the desk. ‘It’s okay. I have that effect,’ I joke, and his eyes darken. ‘Oh. So did you have the effect on Park Jimin?’ he asks, and I nearly scream aloud, so glad that he’s brought it up (I really thought I’d put in all that effort for nothing).
He makes me sit on the desk in front of him, and he spreads my legs, making me rest my feet on his armrests. ‘I asked you a question,’ he says, eyes on my soaked pants. ‘I, um… who told you about that?’ I say, and he scoffs. ‘Don’t be ridiculous. Of course I was going to hear about it. Everyone was talking about it. Peach sleeping with her best friend’s man,’ he says, looking up at me disdainfully.
‘Are you that desperate for cock? That desperate you’d sleep with Daisy’s man?’ he says, and I stay silent, biting on my bottom lip. ‘Go on, speak. I’m sure you had a lot to say with Jimin’s dick in your pussy, huh? Or did he shut you up with his cock in your mouth? Fucking whore,’ he says, landing a harsh slap on my clothed heat, and I whine at the feeling.
He hooks a finger around my pants and pulls, ripping the flimsy material off me and holding it up to his nose. ‘Fuck. You’re so wet,’ he says, looking at my dripping wet core as he puts the ripped material down on the desk beside him. ‘Only for you, Sir,’ I whimper, and he groans. ‘Fucking slut. I bet it’s for Jimin. I bet you’ve been thinking about having him inside you again, huh?’ he says, and I shake my head. ‘I’ve only been thinking about you. I thought about you while I was with him,’ I whisper, and he looks up at me with dark, dilated eyes.
‘Is that so? Well, what were you thinking about?’ he asks, and I bite my lip. ‘Your pretty lips on my pussy,’ I breathe out, and he groans again. ‘God, you’re so fucking sexy. Let me give you what you want then,’ he says, and I spread my legs even more, leaning back on my hands and shuffling forward so I teeter on the edge of his desk. I’m so close to his face that I can feel his breaths hit my core. ‘Please, Sir,’ I whimper, and he grins at me before he leans forward a licks a bold stripe across my pussy.
I let out a pathetic sigh, my head falling back as he licks at my core slowly, tongue lapping at my slit languorously, dipping his muscle between my folds every few seconds, sending mind-numbing shocks through me. ‘Fuck, you taste so good. So fucking sweet,’ he praises as I let out a small moan, legs curling around his shoulders to pull him closer.
Without warning, he attaches his lips to my clit, sucking and tugging on the bundle of nerves, and my back arches as I throw my head back, broken moans falling from my lips. ‘Stay still, whore,’ he warns harshly, the words against my heat making me shiver as one of his arms snakes around my waist, tightly holding me in place. His other hand scoops some of his cum from my breasts before joining his head between my legs, rubbing the cum onto my clit as more moans escape me.
‘Please, Sir, I want your fingers,’ I plead and he chuckles before slowly pushing one finger between my folds. ‘So tight, baby. Am I not turning you on?’ he asks, plunging another finger in, forcing another moan out of me. ‘How will I get my cock in? At this rate, I won’t even fit another finger into this tight little cunt,’ he says, still with his lips wrapped around my clit and his two fingers slowly pumping in and out of me.
Gradually, he increases his pace, adding another finger in, his mouth still working wonders at my clit. I can feel my orgasm building up, moans falling more frequently from my mouth. He only increases his pace more and more, until his fingers pump in and out furiously fast, his tongue licking up and down my folds before pulling on my clit with his lips.
My hands, threaded into his soft, dark locks, pull him closer and closer to my core, and I can feel myself fast approaching the edge. He curls his fingers into me, hitting the soft spongy spot inside me, and I let out a particularly loud whine. ‘Fuck, Mr Kim, right there, please,’ I whine, and he freezes. ‘Fuck, you’ll make me cum again if you call me Mr Kim. Here,’ he says, pulling his tie off and stuffing it into my mouth before going back to his ministrations.
I can feel myself tumbling towards the edge, pleasure coursing through my veins as I let out muffled moans. ‘Come on, I can feel you’re close, Peach. Fucking cum for me,’ he whispers and, when he curls his fingers and pulls on my clit at the same time, I finally reach my climax. I curse and moan, all of it muffled by the tie, as my orgasm washes over me, back arching.
Once I’ve come down from my high, he licks my release up as I pull his tie out of my mouth before holding his fingers out to me, and I lick them clean as he watches with a smug smirk, lips swollen and shining. ‘That was so fucking hot,’ he says as I hop down from his desk. I pick up my pants and tuck them into his chest pocket with a grin before smoothing down my skirt and rebuttoning my blouse, the man watching as I do so.
‘Wait, are we not going to…?’ he trails off, and I look over to see that he’s already hard again. Very hard. ‘I’ll come to your room,’ I say as I pull some tissues out of me bag, cleaning his cum off my face. ‘But I’m…’ he says, looking down at his length, and I hold back a laugh, putting some powder on my face and pulling on a hoodie.
‘You left me hanging a week. You can deal with a few hours,’ I say, slipping out of the room before he can even formulate a response. I walk down the corridor, unable to wipe the smile off my face, nearly skipping all the way out to the grass where I know my friends will be waiting for me. Honey, Pearl, Daisy, Dream, Namjoon, Jimin, Yoongi and Jungkook are all lazing around on the grass, instantly perking up when they spot me.
‘So?’ Honey asks excitedly when I reach them, and I grin. ‘Mission accomplished,’ I say, pulling a spare pair of pants out of my bag and pulling them on underneath my skirt. ‘Wow. He kept your underwear?’ Jimin asks, and I nod with a smirk. ‘Had he heard about you and Jimin?’ Dream asks, and I nod again. ‘He was so mad,’ I grin, all of them laughing as Jimin smirks.
‘Well, damn it, Peach, I didn’t think you would, but you did. You really had sex with a teacher. You won the competition. Good on you, girl,’ Daisy says, and I grin at her. ‘Well, I didn’t really have sex with him. I just… sucked him off. And then he ate me out,’ I say, and Daisy frowns, everyone else looking confused. ‘You should’ve fucked him,’ she says, and I shrug.
‘I’ll fuck him when I go to his room tonight,’ I say, the girls squealing as the boys (and Pearl) look at me incredulously. ‘Wait, you’re really leaving him this long before you fuck him? God, you’re evil, Peach,’ Namjoon says, and I smile smugly. ‘Peach, fucking in a classroom is one thing, but going to his room? You’re asking for trouble,’ Pearl says disapprovingly, and I shrug with a grin.
‘You know what, Pearl? Maybe I am.’
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snacc-noir · 4 years
Text
The Idiot Effect
(Marinette the Flirt AU) 
AO3
Summary: 
It starts as a game about their mystery love interests.
“He’s really smart. I’m sure he’ll pick up on it one day.”
“Oh really?” Chat goads. “Then for them to realise, let’s see who can flirt better.”
Yeah... turns out there’s a lot more to realise.
(Or the fic where Marinette’s a ruthless flirt, Ladybug and Adrien are dense, and Plagg can’t stop laughing at everyone)
Notes: the fact that a few actually wanted this crack mess is concerning, and it seems some have brought “expectations” so i’ll kindly ask you to leave those at the door. thank you!! (and there’s more chapters coming im so sorry)
-
Listen.
Marinette stuffs up but when she stuffs up it’s with class, alright? When there’s a problem, her own or not, she fixes it because that’s just what she does. She spews garbage and has the composure of a flailing eel trying to stand upright – but she’s a pillar source of entertainment for it. She’s a normal girl, with a normal life (except for the superhero thing), so excuse her for trying to be adventurous once and a while.
Adventurous, flirtatious; whatever.
She’s made it to school two minutes after waking up before and was recently (6th Grade Graduation) voted “Sweetest Classmate”, so yeah, she’s quite up there. And ever since (unwillingly) sprouting the wings of a brave superheroine she’s tried her hand at a bit of confidence, despite those continual dignity stuff ups she’s played off gracefully (the tripping happens no matter what, she can’t control that, okay?) The Guy may be the son of a famous fashion artist—that has, in fact, recognised Marinette’s talent and sent her self-esteem higher than Chat’s puns make her want to throw him—and is entirely out of her league,
But see, usually that would cease her pursuits, if not for, you know, the fact she’s an epic superhero and he’s the biggest snack she’s ever seen.  
Kindness? A literal angel? Most wholesome grace?  
A model?
As if she’s not flirting with that.  
She shivers remembering the ignorant days (half a school day) where she was under the idiocy that Adrien Agreste of all celestial beings had the tenacity to be an entitled jerk with an inheritance long enough to rival the list of times Dupain-Cheng had sliced from Chloé’s lips through the years.  
And yeah, that couldn’t have been further from the truth, but genuinely, genuinely, flaws and all, Adrien Agreste is the sweetest being she’s ever met.  
That she’s stuffed up her chances with, countless times.
But she’ll work on that.
Chat Noir knows how to flirt. He’s not too relevant – her miraculous partner in battle, black suit clad teenage girl idol, the best friend she’d kill herself and everyone she knows for – you know, the least of importance right now. But she’s got to admit, he has some good ones when she’s suited up. Only difference between him and her is that on Ladybug, it’s all fun and games with no meaning. But with Adrien,  
she’s serious.
(Most of the time. The lines are pretty eccentric.)
She loves him. It’s whatever. She doesn’t know if he loves her back but she’ll make it work. He can’t pick up a hint for his life — causing completely no progress— but the way her indications of affection propel over his halo is just a spanner in the mission to conquer his heart; a mere stain to the golden-hearted persona she adores so much; so much as a friend, too.
Because, you know,
“We’re friends,” Adrien tells his capped bro as though the suggestive nudges up the courtyard would lessen, an attempt that fails, because an arm is slung around him instead in such a buddy-buddy way he knows is saved for interrogating or persuading purposes.
“You didn’t hear what she said to you?”
How could he not.
He didn’t mind. If anything, he found it humorous. “Yeah, she’s just messing around like that.”  
“Mmmhmm… sure,” Nino says in a way that totally isn’t assuring. “I don’t even have Alya telling me we should share a locker to hide in during an akuma attack. And we’re dating.”
“That’s because Marinette’s joking around. Since we’re friends.”
“Since you’re soulmates. ”  
“Mmmhmm…” he mocks, cheek twitching, “sure.”
One-hundred percent sure, according to Marinette the next day.
It’s some chemistry lesson half the class doesn’t pay attention to because they’re overreacting (ha) to their assigned lab partners, and Adrien’s fine since he’s paired with Good Friend Marinette. And although he doesn’t like her like that – after all, Ladybug’s a thing – she seriously is lovely company without so much as an awkward fence (excluding the way she stumbles heading to the bench) to hinder their bonding (haha).  
Because, for those in the back, they’re just friends.
She’s funny and kind and all that, talented too – class rep, master of the arts, always doing things for others. Her confidence is mystifying but not unappreciated. In fact, having a crush on her would baffle him since she’s so out of his league (he says, dressing up as a cat and going after a superhero) , or at least impossible considering how much she’s definitely kidding with her flirtatious behaviour. No matter what Nino says.
The equipment clinks on the benches as his partner sets up. Distracted by Chloé whinging about Alya for a lab partner, he’s oblivious to the manner about how Marinette scoots next to him.  
“Look at us together. I bet we were paired because we have so much chemistry,” she says, out of nowhere, and yet completely expected at the same time as he turns back. “I guess we just work so well together.”
His lips tickle, but he sterns himself by moving an elbow dumbly, knocking a small beaker of water so the contents spill across a ripped page of discarded notes. Her old work fuses to the bench as the ink bleeds and they watch. “Apparently not.”
Marinette cracks a grin. “You suck.”
“You suck.”
“You—”
The lesson is a blast.
Marinette doesn’t know how someone can get any more dumb. Or is it dumber? Whatever. They’re tied for English, anyway (“The A + stands for Adrien plus Marin—” “Shut up.”). And she knows it’s not her who’s the dumb one because, you know, you need to have the supremacy of a genius to have the flirtatious skills she can dish out, possibly a degree of some kind.
Adrien’s smart, but he’s not—
He’s not there sometimes. It’s because of her absolute lack of progress (and she knows the lines are just Too Good for her to not be at fault here) that she often wonders if retreating to the long-abandoned pink-cheeked and shy character would’ve made things any more obvious.
Not that she thinks they can.  
“When we get married, I shots the left side of the bed.”
Seriously.
“You’re only getting the prime bed spot if you take the most dishwashing days,” he plays along, musing irresponsible blond tuffs with the towel Kim’s tossed him as he slinks from the locker room. “That includes Sunday morning. Saturday nights are major guest nights.”
His lacrosse game couldn’t have gone better, even if Nino and Alya were babysitting and didn’t attend. He scored most of the goals and the pride warming Marinette’s expression as she greets him is what tops the cake. He still hears Alix, Kim and Ivan chatting jubilantly of their win as the door swings behind him.
“You’ve obviously thought about this before.”
Adrien snaps the towel at her, purposefully missing, but water that’s been tipped on his head spurs from it and Marinette’s composure is quelled as the assumption of sweat drives her over.  
“You wish.”
Boy does she ever.
They break into step down the hall. Adrien pats down his arms and side-eyes her. Her blue pools of comfort are already beaming at him.
“I did that good for a marriage proposal, huh?”
“Yep!”
He does little to hinder the bashful chuckle.  
“And you touched my shoulder twice yesterday. That’s sixty-eight percent more than usual according to Max.“
“That doesn’t mean we’re married, Marinette.”  
Her lips quirk. “Totally does.”
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exxar1 · 3 years
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Chapter 14 “The Miracle of Easter, Psalm 139
4/3/2021
Psalm 139: 13-16 (NKJV)
“For You formed my inward parts; You covered me in my mother’s womb. I will praise You, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made; marvelous are Your works, and that my soul knows very well.
My frame was not hidden from You, when I was made in secret, and skillfully wrought in the lowest parts of the earth. Your eyes saw my substance, being yet unformed. And in Your book they all were written, the days fashioned for me, when as yet there were none of them.”
           I honestly don’t remember exactly where, when or how I stumbled onto this psalm. It was sometime in the last couple weeks, and I remember being immediately captivated by David’s poetry of God’s perfect knowledge of mankind. Just a few verses before the passage I quoted above, David asks his creator where he can flee that God will not find him? Whether heaven or hell or the highest mountain or the uttermost parts of the sea, David marvels that God will always find him and be with him, no matter what. (This brought to mind that children’s book where a small child asks his mother if she will still be able to find him no matter what animal he becomes and where he hides. The mother answers that she will always find and love her precious son, no matter what.)
           Then I read the four verses that I quoted above, and I had to stop short. I read them again and again, soaking in the words that were at once familiar and suddenly brand new. Somewhere in my early childhood I had memorized verses 13 and 14. Now, pairing them with verses 15 and 16 I was struck by David’s message, especially in verse 16. In the KJV translation, that verse reads, “Thine eyes did see my substance, yet being unperfect; and in Thy book all my members were written, which in continuance were fashioned, when as yet there was none of them.” This verse was new to me, but I had a pretty good idea of what David was saying. But, to get a better idea, I reached for my MacArthur study Bible which is published in the NKJV translation. As soon as I read verse 16 there, I smiled to myself. Yes, I was right.
           For the last two weeks I have not been able to get this verse out of my head. God knew me before I was even conceived. He had numbered all my days, had written my whole life from beginning to end, before I was even born. I have been trying to wrap my puny, finite mind around this inconceivable, quantum-sized yet massively cosmological concept. How does a being that exists outside our known space and time, a being that has always been and always shall be, a being that knows my entire life’s story before it’s even begun, a being more vast and omnipresent than the universe He created, have any interest at all in the comparatively insignificant, finite, puny beings that He created but who then immediately disobeyed and rejected Him?
           God could have started over. He had no obligation to Adam and Eve whatsoever. He could have wiped them from existence with a single, spoken word. And, in fact, a millennium or so later, He did wipe out all of the human race and started over with just Noah and his family. And even then, mankind has still behaved towards God with great rebellion and sin. In my own life, I declared a long time ago that God didn’t exist. I even said at one point to myself, in the deepest dark of my teenage despair that I hated God. I hated Him for the way He had made me.
           And yet, according to Psalm 139:16, God knew every word, every action, every rebellious thought that I would hurl at Him before I was even born. He also knew the day I would raise my eyes to the night sky behind the neon streetlamps six months ago and whisper a sinner’s prayer of forgiveness and surrender. He knows the exact time and day of my death or if I’ll still be alive the day that His son returns in the clouds to rapture the believers home. He knows my every choice, my every thought, my every deed before I make any of them, and He has always kept me wrapped in His arms my whole life, patiently waiting until I was finally ready to wholly and completely surrender to Him.
           I have been trying to understand not only the very existence and nature of God, but, more importantly, the depth and power of that kind of love. I have failed at both counts. Instead, I have only been able to quote verse 14 over and over. “I will praise You, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made; marvelous are Your works, and that my soul knows very well.” My soul understands what my frail, limited mind cannot: that God, my Lord and Creator, my Great Savior, loves me in spite of my sin nature; in spite of all I have said and done against him; in spite of all my failures, both past and future.
           He loved me enough to provide a way for my salvation.
           Tomorrow is Easter Sunday. It’s the day we who believe in God and what His son did for us on the cross celebrate Jesus’ resurrection and His victory over death. This is a Bible story that I have known my whole life. I have sat through countless sermons and Sunday School lessons and family devotionals, and I have listened to my parents, my teachers, and my pastor expound on the greatest truth found in God’s Holy Word. This is the foundation of our faith, the only reason and sole hope of our frail, finite human existence. I know the timeline, the major events starting with the last supper, to the Christ’s anguished, desperate prayer to His heavenly father in the Garden of Gethsemane,  to the moment of death and the earthquake that tore the temple veil in two. I know that Peter denied his Lord three times, that the trial was a mockery, that Christ knew that Judas would betray Him, and that Pontius Pilate washed his hands of the matter after his wife told him she suffered a restless night of strange dreams about this particular Jewish rabbi.
I know about the crown of thorns, the beatings, the piercing of His side, the blood and vinegar that flowed from the wound, the nails that were driven into his hands and feet, the excruciating pain and extreme suffering that he endured while hanging there for many hours. I also know about the two thieves – one who acknowledged the lordship of Christ, and the other who stubbornly refused to believe in spite of the evidence right before his own eyes. I know that Christ finally gave up the ghost by raising His weary, bloodied head to the darkened sky and crying, “It is finished!”
I know that He was laid in the tomb after being wrapped carefully and reverently by his followers as they wept with great sorrow and grief. I know that on the morning of the third day, when Mary and Martha came to the tomb, and when they found the stone rolled away and Jesus’ body gone, that they were both afraid and thoroughly confused. I also know that the angel of the Lord asked them, “Why seek ye the living among the dead? He is not here, for he is risen as he promised! Go, and tell his disciples the good news!” And so they did.
I have known that story my whole life, every gory and heartbreaking detail. I have memorized many verses from the four gospels that speak of that great story. But, until this year, I have never known it in my heart and soul.
The God that David speaks of in Psalm 139 has known all my comings and goings, all of my thoughts and words, all my choices and heartbreaks, all my joys and accomplishments, all my times of deepest sorrows and despairs, before I was even conceived in my mother’s womb. He knows me from the very molecules of the protein strands of my DNA to every spiritual corner of my soul. His fingerprints are stamped into my genetic code, and He has loved me always.
I cannot fathom this, and my heart breaks as I contemplate the act of sacrifice that His son made on that cross on Golgotha’s Hill two millennia ago. Just writing those paragraphs describing the story of His death and resurrection has caused me to weep for what I did to send Him there. He bore the sin of ALL mankind – past, present and future – on that cross. That glorious, wonderous, terrible cross. He died for you, and He died for me.
Three months ago I started to expand my Apple music library with new albums and songs by current Christian singers and songwriters. One of them, Chris Tomlin, has a song called “The Wonderful Cross”. It’s his own arrangement of the hymn by Isaac Watts titled “When I Survey The Wonderous Cross.” I have been playing this song over and over during my daily commutes to work for the last few weeks.
When I survey the wonderous cross/On which the prince of glory died/My richest gain I count but loss/And pour contempt on all my pride
See from His head, His hands, His feet/Sorrow and love flow mingled down/Did e’er such love and sorrow meet/Or thorns compose so rich a crown
And now Chris’ own chorus:
Oh the wonderful cross/Oh the wonderful cross/Bids me come and die and find that I may truly live/Oh the wonderful cross/Oh the wonderful cross/All who gather here by grace draw near and bless Your name
This verse by Watts is what gets me every time:
Were the whole realm of nature mine/That were an offering far too small/Love so amazing, so divine/Demands my soul, my life, my all
           I come before you, O Lord God, a sinner saved by grace. I recognize that I am not worthy of Your love, Your mercy, or Your forgiveness. But You loved me so greatly and so deeply that You sent Your only son to be born of a virgin, to live as one of us, and then to die by our filthy, vile hands so that we could all be washed beneath His pure blood. By this, you gave us a way to salvation, and all that I have to do is accept this gift by praying and believing in Your name. There is nothing that I could ever do on my own to attain this, and I promise you, O God, that for as long as I live, as long as You give me the ability to draw breath, that I will give You nothing less than my soul, my life, and my all.
           Amen.
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cynicalrainbows · 4 years
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The Next Best Thing Chapter 18
In which Cathy is having a Bad Day.
The weekend is good, but things start to go wrong almost immediately after- Monday morning, or maybe even Sunday night.
She goes to sleep, after another chapter of Little Women, thinking about tarlatan dresses and what corsets must feel like, but she ends up dreaming about much scarier things- little attic girls with sewn up mouths scratching on the underside of her mattress and rooms full of cobwebby birthday cake and running through an empty art gallery after the tips of her parent’s coats that keep disappearing round corners no matter how fast she chases after them-
It’s a muddled, unsettling sort of dream- and then the day starts out in the worst-ever possible way because when she wakes up, her sheets and pajamas are cold and wet and sticking to her bare skin, and she’s so horrified that she actually sort of wants to shrivel up and die right where she is, just disappear from existence entirely.
(If she had to choose, she thinks she’d take the little attic girl, sewn up-mouth and all, over this.)
Thankfully, she’s spared Catalina having to find out (she thinks then, she really would die of embarrassment) because when she comes out of the shower, Catalina doesn’t even think of ask why she’s showering in the morning when she had a bath the night before- she just says that she’s going to put on a load of laundry before work to try and get on top of the housework and can Cathy put her own things in?
She can.
It’s a relief, and actually a very, very lucky coincidence because Catalina never usually does laundry in the morning ever, even though the laundry makes things into even more of a rush.
It turns out that Catalina’s alarm didn’t go off on time so they’re running a bit behind.
Still, even though she’s had longer in bed than normal, she’s tired.
 Catalina looks unusually ruffled too, and she looks oddly concerned and earnest when she asks Cathy if she’s alright.
‘I’m fine.’ She tries to look like she means it.
‘Are you sure, mija? You know you can tell me anything.’
She nods as convincingly as she can and Catalina doesn’t look entirely convinced but she stops asking anyway.
Now she’s on the phone, trying to explain to her boss why she can’t come in early, while she makes coffee and stuffs files into a bag.
‘-I understand but….. I know-.....Look, I’m just having a bit of a stressful morning, but I’ll make it up, I can just work through lunch again…..Yes, no I do understand, truly-.... What’s that?’ Catalina eventually slams the fridge, looking annoyed. ‘No, she CAN’T take herself to school James, she’s SEVEN…. No, I don’t care what your kids were doing at that age-’
She keeps arguing and Cathy stirs her cereal round a little too vigorously in irritation that Catalina is apparently telling everyone she’s too much of a baby to take herself to school.
(She bets she could really. She’d probably be fine, even if she had to get a bus by herself like the really big children do. Not that Catalina will listen.
‘I don’t think you’d like it, mija.’
‘I would.’
‘But the bus makes you feel carsick, I thought.’
‘Only sometimes. And it’s different when you’re grownup, grownups don’t get carsick.’
‘I wish you’d told that to Maria when I got my first car.’ Catalina chuckles, momentarily distracted. ‘My backseat was never the same- I told her at the time she wouldn’t like tequila-’
‘What?’ 
Cathy is confused; Catalina looks like Kitty when she’s caught sneaking cubes of sugar from the bowl.
‘Nothing, mija. But you still can’t go to school by yourself.’
Catalina is VERY unfair sometimes.)
Catalina sighs at the puddle of milk by her bowl and drops Cathy’s school bag by her chair.
‘Please be careful mija, we’re late as it is-’
This feels unfair when it’s Catalina who woke her up late in the first place and she mumbles something to this effect under her breath while spooning up the last of her Shreddies.
‘WHAT was that?’
She knows it isn’t good when Catalina speaks sharply like that, and doubly so that she isn’t even calling her mija- so she doesn’t repeat it and shrugs instead. Still. It ISN’T her fault they’re late.
Catalina doesn’t press it, but she frowns and whisks away Cathy’s bowl, so she doesn’t even get to drink the milk she’d been saving til last.
‘Your dinner money is due today-’ Catalina’s phone starts ringing again, sounding more insistent and angry with each vibration. ‘I have to get this- can you go and get the cheque and put it in your school bag? It’s on the table in the hall- Hello?’
Cathy’s so annoyed about the milk- about the general badness of the day in general- that she doesn’t even answer, just stamps her feet harder than necessary when she goes to put on her school shoes.
‘Cathy, stop that NOW-’
She stops. Reluctantly.
It’s not a good beginning.
*
 Catalina drops her off in such a hurry she has to run across the playground to join the back of the line before her class goes inside, so it’s not until they’re all in the classroom that Cathy notices that everyone seems to have more bags on them than usual.
Her stomach flips over- of course, it’s Monday.
Swimming day.
School swimming lessons had paled in comparison to Anne’s sleepover- which is why she hasn’t thought about the fact that they’re starting today for a while- but now, with everyone else chattering excitedly about how far and how fast they can swim, about whether it’s true the pool they’re going to has a waterslide or a wave machine, about whether it’s true that everyone has to jump into the pool to begin, whether they can swim or not….now it feels like a bit more of a big deal.
Especially when Anne pauses in showing off the fancy green goggles (that her Mum dropped off at Jane’s that morning before school) to ask where her swimming things are.
 (The shame of Kitty biting Grace has, it seems, gone over rather better than expected with the other parents, since apparently they all have rather strong feelings about being treated like babysitting services. 
Because of this, Anne and Kitty are no longer in disgrace and can go home- which is a good thing, because Jane has called in a couple of favours to cover her shifts and is running out of people she can ask.)
Having to admit she’s forgotten to bring her swimming things makes Cathy’s tummy feel all tight and anxious- is forgetting swimming things like forgetting homework or is it even worse? Is she going to get into trouble?- and then Anne looks sympathetic and lowers her voice.
 ‘Did Catalina forget?’
She isn’t really sure whether to say yes or no- did she? Did both of them?- but she nods uncertainly anyway and Anne looks sorry for her because Anne knows all about parents forgetting things for you.
‘If I’d brought my spare bikini, you could have borrowed it-’
‘That’s ok.’
‘I’m sorry you don’t have your stuff. Will you still be allowed to swim?’
She doesn’t answer.
She’s let Anne borrow things too many times to count, she's expressed regret that Anne doesn’t have this or that hundreds of times, and she’s never once felt strange about it…... but she isn’t sure she likes it being the other way around. 
Not one bit.
They’re interrupted, luckily, by the register. And following the register, dinner money collection.
It’s only as the teacher takes out the familiar red plastic folder that she remembers something else- the cheque, still sitting on the hall table.
The teacher looks at her oddly when she has to admit she doesn’t have anything to give her.
‘What happened, Cathy?’
‘I-’ She’s about to say that she forgot it but then it occurs to her that she’s already going to have to admit to not having her swimming things and she really doesn’t want to be in trouble twice today, and maybe she’ll be in less trouble for the swimming things if the teacher feels sorry for her. 
So she opens her eyes a bit wider, trying to look all honest and sad and brave, like one of the poor street children in the storybooks they sometimes read at Christmas.
‘Catalina…..wouldn’t give me any dinner money today.’
It’s not really, really a lie, not exactly. After all, Catalina didn’t give her anything at all. And it was a cheque she was meant to pick up from the hall table, not money. So really, she isn’t lying.
(That’s what she tells herself, anyway.)
The teacher doesn’t question her any further, thank goodness, she just shakes her head and makes a little mark by her name.
‘Alright- you go along and have dinner as normal today.’
‘Yes Miss.’ 
(She’s wondering if maybe she should explain- that really, it was just Catalina forgetting rather than not giving her money on purpose, and actually, Catalina didn’t really forget at all….but she doesn’t quite have the words.)
‘And don’t look so worried-’ The teacher smiles reassuringly at her and pats her shoulder. ‘It’ll all be sorted out.’
Which she takes to mean that she can have the dinner for free today and bring in the cheque tomorrow and no one need be any the wiser about anything.
Which is a relief.
(She’s glad Catalina doesn’t have to find out about her not-lie.)
*
She cheers up a bit as they all get into line for the coach- because Anna brings up the sleepover and the other girls start asking questions and looking jealous and it’s nice to feel special….. But then on the coach, the teacher stops Cathy and Anne squashing onto a double seat with Anna and because Cathy is on the end, she’s the one who gets sent to find a new seat. 
The only one left is next to Stephen Gardener, who picks his nose and fries ants with his pocket magnifying glass at playtime and likes to try to stamp on people's fingers when they drop things under the table. 
This is NOT a good day at all.
They’re only engaging in a little tiny bit of under-the-seat kicking as they negotiate seat boundaries and leg room, but unfortunately, it draws the attention of their teacher (who is looking more ruffled by the minute and doing lots of dark muttering about her own views on school swimming lessons). 
They got told very firmly to stop-this-instant on pain of being left behind at school, and this makes Stephen subside almost at once (with one final secret kick to her ankle) but Cathy wonders if maybe she should carry on because that would be one way at least to avoid having to get into trouble for the missing costume.
(She doesn’t know how Anne manages it all the time- forgetting things is so stressful and horrible that for once she doesn’t even think about how the jerky hot coach is making her feel carsick. She doesn’t EVEN care that Anna and Anne are whispering and giggling together in a very annoying way down the aisle- she just wants to be able to press a big button like on the television remote and fast forward to tomorrow so the stress of dinner money and swimming costumes can be over and done with and everything can go back to normal.)
The class is lining up to go into the changing rooms when a teacher stops her.
‘Where are your things?’
She bites her lip- she doesn’t know this teacher, she’s a special just-for-swimming one and she isn’t sure if she’ll be the sort of teacher who acts like forgetting things is a personal affront to her. She’s wishing she’d said something to her own teacher, because then maybe it would be sorted out like the dinner money thing, but it’s too late now.
‘Did you forget them?’
Before she can say anything, her real teacher comes over, looking harassed and carrying a clipboard. 
She gives a little sigh- obviously noting Cathy’s bagless state- and then draws the swimming-teacher away a couple of steps and starts whispering to her in a way that is apparently very rude when you do it in class but just fine when it’s teachers, even if they’re not even whispering properly and she can still hear bits of what they’re saying.
(At least when she and Anne whisper, they do it properly.)
‘....both parents….quite recent….still settling back in….’
She knows exactly what’s being said, even without hearing all the words, because it’s just a version of the same story that everyone around her seems to be telling one another….but she still doesn’t like it.
It’s also very odd to have something so enormously, earth-shakingly huge trimmed down and stuffed into a few neat potted sentences- as if Mum and Dad dying is just another piece of news, like any other. Her teacher at least is using her Very Serious voice- and the swimming teacher does a little sad face when she hears and shakes her head….but it’s not enough. 
(She doesn’t really know what COULD be enough.)
‘....some problems…. Not sure they’re coping….dinner money….-’
(She hopes very hard that they’re talking about someone else’s dinner money and not hers.)
Eventually, the swimming teacher turns back to her, her eyebrows knit with cloying concern.
‘Did your- ah- your godmother forget your swimming things, dear?’
She nods. It isn’t a lie, really, is it? After all, they BOTh forgot them.
‘Poor little thing.’ She clicks her tongue. ‘We’ll find you something, poppet.’
Stephen sniggers and Cathy wishes they were back on the bus, so she could kick him with plausible deniability. 
(No one will believe her foot slipped all the way over to where Eddie Bonner and Stephen are pinging the straps of their goggles at one another. Worse luck.)
She doesn’t want to be in trouble, but she doesn’t like being a ‘poor little thing’ or a poppet either, and she’s starting to wonder if perhaps it wouldn’t have been better to just be honest about everything all along, when she’s handed a spare swimming costume and all thoughts of everything else go out of her mind.
The spare swimming costume is awful- all bobbly from being washed one time too many, somehow too tight and too baggy and a nasty sickly pink colour. 
The towel smells damply sour.
‘Yuck!’ Anne wrinkles her nose, and Cathy sort of wants to push her over, especially when she sees the big, fluffy towel Anne is taking out of her own bag.
(It looks suspiciously like one of Jane’s Nice towels, which means the towels that are for bath use only and not for swimming and definitely not for picnics, sunbathing or anything interesting at all. She wonders if Jane knows Anne has it.)
‘It smells funny!’
Anne is giggling but Anna isn’t.
‘I don’t think it does.’
She’s grateful for Anna’s help but mostly just annoyed at herself. How COULD she forget swimming day, when she’s been looking forward to it for weeks?
Watching the others get changed into their own pretty costumes makes her feel even worse, and then she feels a stab of anger at Catalina too. 
Why DIDN’T she remember it was swimming day, why DIDN'T she make sure Cathy had her own towel and her blue-and-silver swimming costume, when all the other Mum’s managed to? 
Even if she isn’t a Mum, it’s meant to be her job now- isn’t that what Catalina keeps reminding her, that it’s ok to let her do Mum-things?
(Her own Mum wouldn’t have forgotten. Her own Mum would have remembered- she wouldn’t have forgotten an important thing like swimming day because she’d know how it important it was…
Then she thinks about how her Mum won’t EVER know about swimming day, how she won’t EVER be able to tell her- and how no matter how good she gets at swimming now, it doesn’t matter because Dad won’t be there to be proud of her. 
She tries to think about Mum swimming in the sea and screaming at the seaweed- the story made her feel warm and good and happy on Sunday- but now it just makes her sad.
 She’ll never swim with either of her parents again, just hear stories about them swimming with other people.
 It feels suddenly so unfair that she has to grub for scraps of other people's memories of them: why can’t she have her own? 
And for that matter, why can’t she just have them- not the memories of them but real, live parents who sort out things like dinner money and swimming costumes for you?)
She’s so busy thinking about this- and so reluctant to put on the horrible suit that it makes her slow getting changed, and she’s the last one out of the girls changing room when the swimming-teacher stops her AGAIN.
‘Don’t you have a bobble, dear?’
‘Why, Miss?’
‘To tie your hair back, of course...Oh well, I can see you don’t-’ She unsnaps an elastic band from around her wrist and before Cathy can dodge, her hair is being scraped back painfully into a much-too-tight ponytail.
‘There! Much better!’
It isn’t much better but she can’t say that. She definitely can’t explain that she always has her hair loose and extra-fluffed out when she goes swimming at home.
(She isn’t a baby anymore, she KNOWS that mother otters fluffing out their babies to keep them buoyant is totally different to her fluffing up her own curls. 
It’s not like she doesn’t know she won’t go under with her hair tied back- she can swim properly now, after all, she’s not a baby afraid to go into the water even with armbands on.
 She just LIKES having her hair fluffed out for swimming- but it’s not like she can do anything about it now, especially not when the elastic is so tight it’s making her head sore.)
They all have to line up and jump into the water and then swim to the side to prove they can all swim well enough to be in the big pool- but she somehow ends up a second behind everyone else jumping in, and she’s thinking so much about whether her hair really COULD affect her floatyness that she forgets to hold her nose….and then she’s choking and splashing and her eyes and nose are burning and aching, and she has to grab onto the side cough until someone pulls her out.
It’s embarrassing, once it stops being scary- more so because the minute she can breathe halfway normally again, the just-for-swimming teacher is taking her hand like she’s Kitty’s age and taking her over to a whole other section of the pool.
‘We’ll try you over her, dear-’
For a moment, she’s completely confused- and then she realises.
They think she can’t swim.
She’s been put in the beginners group- along with the other children who can’t swim. Some of them don’t even want to get into the water and are clinging to the steps like they think they’re going to drown.
There’s a new swimming teacher with them- she’s smiling and going on about how much fun it’s all going to be and how they don’t need to be afraid of the water at all, it won’t hurt them.
They have to line up along the wall, with the water lapping around their tummies, and do silly things like blowing bubbles with their faces in the water.
(Cathy wonders if this is a punishment for not being able to swim.)
She wants to speak up, to explain that she’s been put in the wrong group, that she can swim perfectly well, that it’s all a mistake-
‘Go on, lovie!’
The new swimming teacher is beaming brightly at her.
‘But I’m not- I can-’ She can’t quite figure out how to explain properly- she doesn’t want the new teacher to think she’s being rude, after all- and it’s so frustrating that she can’t just SAY it.
‘There’s nothing to be scared of- be a big brave girl now!’
This stings- she wants to explain that she isn’t a BIT scared, that she learnt to swim without armbands or anything at all, and not in a baby pool like this but in the big, choppy, heaving grey OCEAN, with the waves breaking ever minute, and that even THEN she wasn’t frightened even though she was two years younger….but that makes her think about Dad’s hand in hers as he led her into the water, and his hand under her head as she floated on her back and how proud he was when she did it for the first time, how proud they both were, and him telling her all about the special strong lady swimmers who swam all the way across the channel to France and how she’d decided then and there that she was going to do that too one day, and how he’d nodded seriously and said that he’d cheer her on the whole time from the boat…..and then she has to duck her face down quickly into the water, so quickly that more water goes up her nose and the chlorine stings her eyes.
(It’s ok- it doesn’t count as crying if your face is already wet.)
**
The lesson is boring boring boring but she doesn’t want to try saying anything because she doesn’t want any more memories to come back. She does look over to the other group a few times- they’re splashing and shrieking and swimming, real proper swimming. They’re learning strokes that she’s known for AGES, and it’s so frustrating, knowing that she should be up there among them.
After what feels like hours, they come out of the pool and Anne immediately asks her what happened.
‘Why’d they put you in the other group?’
‘I don’t know.’
‘But you can swim already-’
‘I KNOW I can swim already!’ She wants Anne to appreciate just exactly what she had to put up with so she starts telling her all about how boring and babyish it was, but rather than being properly sympathetic, Anne just gives her a funny look. 
‘Why didn’t you SAY something?’
It’s too hard to explain- the way the words stuck, the way the memories had started tugging at her like an undertow that might pull her off her feet any moment- so she doesn’t
*
They don’t have enough time to dry off properly after swimming- and she doesn’t like feeling the towel on herself more than she has to, so the rest of the day feels damp and chlorinated.
Then Catalina is late picking her up,something she normally wouldn’t mind, except that it rankles when she thinks of the horrible pink swimming costume and how much her hair hurts all scraped back (somehow this is Catalina’s fault too) and how Anne keeps boasting about being in the top five in one of the stupid swimming races.
(It’s so unfair- she can swim better than Anne, she KNOWS she can, and Anne knows it too. But no one else does- even as far as Anna knows, she’s one of the ones who can’t swim.)
‘Hello, mija-’ Catalina is juggling an armful of folders and her handbag as she aims an apologetic smile at the teacher, who nods tightly. 
‘Hello.’ It comes out flat.
(This is not the first time Catalina has been late, but it’s the first time Cathy’s minded so much.)
‘How was your day?’
She shrugs. She doesn’t want to talk about it. (She bets if everyone at Catalina’s work suddenly thought she couldn’t swim, she’d not want to talk about it either.)
‘I’m sorry I’m late mija, I got a call just as I was about to leave work-’ Catalina is smiling but she looks a tiny bit anxious too, like she’s trying to sound happier than she is. ‘I have exciting news! We’re going to have a visit from your social worker tomorrow- nothing to worry about, just so she can check everything is alright and I was thinking we should really-’
Catalina breaks off when the teacher comes over to them.
‘Mrs Trastamara?’
It’s a sign of Catalina being more stressed than usual (even if she’s trying to look calm and normal) that she doesn’t correct the teacher for calling her ‘Mrs’, which is something she’s usually VERY quick to do.
‘Yes?’
‘Could we have a little word before you go? Just quickly?’
‘Of course-’ Catalina looks a bit confused but she smiles anyway. ‘What is it? Is there anything wrong?’
The teacher glances at Cathy and Catalina follows her gaze. ‘I think it’s best if we perhaps talk privately- Cathy, could you wait outside for a moment?’
She nods and slides from her chair obediently.
Outside the classroom, she counts the coat pegs over and over, and wishes on every one that the teacher is just going to talk to Catalina about something normal and safe and boring, like the PTA or the summer fete.
Maybe, after all, everything IS ok- maybe everyone has forgotten everything, including things she may or may not have said about dinner money or the lack of it….
Then the door opens and Catalina comes out.
She does not look happy.
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with-love-anu · 4 years
Text
Desiderata: The Reveal
PART: 5
WORD COUNT: 2K
PAIRING: Sirius Black x Reader
SUMMARY:  You had been best friends with James, Remus, Sirius and Peter. Read your journey of love, friendship and jealousy through your wonderful years at Hogwarts. Enjoy!
SERIES MASTERLIST
As you moved through the train looking for the compartment and your friends, you couldn’t help but feel a bit anxious. You had always worn simple T-Shirts and jeans at school. Now, as you walked wearing a coral pink off-shoulder top and some high-waist denims, you could suddenly feel people noticing you. It made you smile, the new found attention. You finally saw your besties sitting in the second last compartment.
“Fangs!”
James hugged you as you entered. He held you at arm’s length, his hands on the either side of your shoulders as he took a good look at you. “Wow! You look so pretty!”
“Well, I take it you like my new look.” You smiled smugly cocking an eyebrow.
“I don’t know about him, but I freaking love it” Remus piped in as he came forward and practically engulfed you.
“Remus…can’t…breathe…” you choked out as Remus chuckled releasing you.
You turned to find peter as red as a tomato and Sirius beside him. He stared at you with a somewhat surprised expression on his face, his mouth slightly ajar. It took him a second before he came forward and pulled you into a tight hug and whispered, “I missed you” his breath tickling your ear. You blushed and slowly pulled away from him.
After you all settled down, you told them about your trip to India. Sirius had spent most of the summer at James’s house and the way their eyes sparkled mischievously, you knew they had done much more than have some “fun”. Remus had spent his summer engrossed in the books you’d lent him. Having read through your collection more than 3 times and knowing Remus would take good care of them, you had given them all to him for the summer. Peter had travelled to the country side with his family.
When you’d finally reached the great hall, you couldn’t wait for the sorting to get over and to dig into the feast prepared by the school elves. You were sitting beside Lily who had pulled your ear on seeing you. (“Y/n Y/l/n! You had no time to see me!”)
James who sat in front of you was continually giving you looks, pestering you to make Lily talk to him. After a while, you started ignoring him all together because you knew how infuriated lily would get if you did that just now. Lily and you talked about your vacations. You told her how your sister wanted to give you this big makeover and you just took the opportunity. Lily listened to you a small frown occurring in her eyes. You asked her about it.
“Nothing, it’s just that my own sister Petunia hates me. I wish I had same relationship you have with your sister.” Lily told you. “But anyways, I love your new look and I could already see the boy’s heads turning in you direction” she said wriggling her eyebrows.
“Lily!” you said smacking her arm.
Lily giggled and you couldn’t help but wonder about her. You two always had been close friends but you couldn’t spend that much time with each other as you had the marauders and she, Snape. Now, when she just told you about her sister, you couldn’t help but worry a little. It was the same way Sirius had first mentioned Regulus. You saw how she just mentioned her with a sad glint in her eyes before brushing it away. You doubted that Lily had someone she could talk to about this. Although she was friends with the other dorm-mates you knew that the two of you were the closest. You decided in that moment that you would at least try to strengthen your friendship with her.
When you were both ready to sleep in your respective dorm rooms, you took her into the bathroom with you so that others wouldn’t hear. You pestered her to sneak out. She glared at you but you could be persuasive when you wanted to. She put up a good fight before finally giving in.
“Y/n, if I get caught you would be responsible”
“What would teachers say?”
“I am a prefect; I am supposed to stop these things”
“Y/n you are a bad influence on me”
“Y/n are you even listening to me?”
You huffed. You could very well see beneath the annoyed façade that Lily was enjoying herself. She couldn’t even keep the small smile off her face. You wouldn’t lie if you said that she had a mischievous side to her. You smirked.
“You need to stay quiet. I know that this is your first time sneaking out, but trust me I won’t let you get caught.” You told her.
“Okay”
As you reached the fruit bowl painting you couldn’t help but put in a bit of drama.
“Lily Evans, my closest dorm mate, (Lily face palmed) I present to you my secret of bringing snacks to our dorm. Now, I am only letting you know this because you, yes you NEED to loosen up a bit and also you’ve proved yourself to be worthy to me”
You made wide hand gestures as you entered the kitchens. After Lily decided she had looked around enough, you both sat down drinking some hot chocolate. The two of you laughed and joked around talking about everything from the teachers to the portraits at Hogwarts. You were mildly surprised to find Lily having this wild side to her. She was fierce and bold and definitely not the girl who followed every single school rule. You could see how perfect she was for James, but you didn’t raise your opinions just yet.
“Tell me, why hadn’t we done this before?” Lily asked, her face as red as her hair, from laughing all the way up to the common room.
“You insisted on following the rules so much, that’s why.” You told her smiling. You both went up to your dorm plopping down on the mattress, soon falling into deep slumber.
Next morning, when you went down the breakfast table you couldn’t help but feel a little sleepy due to the last night’s endeavours. You poured yourself a large cup of coffee and piled on some toast and fruit. You saw Sirius come in flirting with some Ravenclaw girl. You huffed and felt that familiar pinch yet again. You were tired, tired of pinning after the boy who would never reciprocate your feelings. When you were going through the makeover, you thought that maybe, maybe Sirius would notice you. But he clearly never did or ever will. You mentally cursed James and Remus for putting the little hope in your head.
Your thoughts were interrupted by someone calling your name. You turned around and saw Sebastian, Ruuhaan, Alex, Charlotte and Grace smirking at you. Over the years you all had become great friends. They were all from different houses. Sebastian and Charlotte from Ravenclaw, Alex and Grace from Hufflepuff and Ruuhaan from Slytherin.
“How come we are last to know about your new look?” Alex asked smirking at you.
“What? You don’t like it?” you said twirling around so they could see your striped culotte jumpsuit.
“Oh everyone loves it” Ruuhaan said winking at you. You smiled as the group fell into an easy conversation.
“So, Sunday 2pm we start this year’s study session” Grace said as she started to leave.
“I really can’t wait to go back and study” You said in a high pitched tone, sarcasm dripping from every syllable. Sebastian sniggered as Grace smacked you.
“That hurt!!” you pouted.
“We just don’t study and you know it! Anyways, remind Remus too.” Grace said.
You looked back seeing Lily sitting alone eating her breakfast. You glanced at the Slytherin table to see Snape sitting with Malfoy, Avery and Mulciber.
“Can I bring Lily too? She’s real nice outside the prefect duties and being the perfect student” You asked.
“Of course why not?” Charlotte said. “Besides Ruuhaan is bringing his crush, Candice too.” she added winking.
Ruuhaan blushed. He had a crush on Candice for years and had gathered the courage to talk to her after huge amount of pestering from you all.
“So, it’s settled then!” Sebastian cut in saving Ruuhaan from any teasing. As they slowly went their ways you plopped down next to Lily and saw James and Peter had already taken seats opposite to you and were eating. Remus always came in the last moment at breakfast being the sleepy head he was.
“Lily, are you free this Sunday 2pm?” you asked Lily.
“Yes. Why?”  
“Okay so I have this study group I go to where we usually do our homework but time to time we also have fun. There are people from all the houses and honestly speaking; we get our work done earlier than most people. I mean with different views, loads of notes and research work from 7 different people does make things easier.” You explained.
“So, this is the actual reason you score at least an “E” in every class? I’m impressed. I didn’t know there were people who take their homework seriously.” Lily said an amused look on her face.
“Am I hearing a yes?” you said delighted.
“I’ll be there.”
The first day was exhausting. You had gone through double potions and herbology. Teachers were all on about how you needed to work hard for the upcoming owls and you had already got 3 essays to write by the next week. So, as you moved towards the last class, defense against the dark arts, you were hoping to get over with it as soon as possible.
You sat beside James and Sirius who were in the same predicament as you were. Professor Vane was new defense against the dark arts’ teacher. He was an old man who looked like a walking corpse.
“Settle down please.” He drowned in a monotonous voice and you knew he wouldn’t be able to handle your wild classmates. He went and sat on a high chair facing the class and remained there for the entirety of the lesson. He went on about how although you all would be practicing certain spells the main focus would be on the theory. You groaned internally. Great, just great. With Voldermort on the rise, the increasing tension in the wizarding world, you wouldn’t even be taught about how to handle yourself in a battle. You were passionate about the things you believed in and stopping this pureblood mania was one of them. So, as he droned on and on about different spells and their usage you couldn’t help but be disappointed.
While the class went on, James mindlessly writing lily on the corners of the page filling it with small hearts, Sirius winking and passing notes with Marlene (you were glaring at him, but apparently he never noticed) ; an idea struck you. When the class finished you beckoned the marauders to a small corner.
“Listen, I have an idea. I don’t think Vane is ever going to teach us anything useful and I want to be able to defend myself and be strong enough to go on missions against the death eaters.” You looked to see the boys faces darkened with a grim expression.
“What I am trying to propose is a club. Not like the duelling club where people go to have some fun. I want to learn things that would help me keep myself and others safe. I have seen the procedure for making the club and I am sure we would be allowed if we followed the rules. People can teach each other what we are best at. Remus can help us with attacking spells; Lily can with the defensive ones and I could help teach others basic healing procedures- spells and potions. That’s what it is about in the end, isn’t it? Helping each other? Staying strong together?” you spoke out.
The boys took a moment thinking about what you just said. You knew they were as eager to learn as you were. Remus spoke up first.
“I’m in” Remus said with an expression that told you he was determined to make this work.
“Me too.”
“I’m in”
“Sure. Why not?”
You were positively delighted to see them agreeing.
“But, who else would be there?” James asked.
“Oh, you’ll see. Leave that to me” You added smirking knowing exactly who you were going to call and were sure that they’ll agree.
SERIES MASTERLIST
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minervahopebeyond · 4 years
Text
Blood Petals.
Hi, everyone! Just in case I need to clear up some things; Let's start with the code names... I chose them because of what they meant. *Fawn:a young deer in its first year. *Chimera:a fire-breathing monster resembling a lion in the forepart, a goat in the middle, and a dragon behind. *Deer it's obvious (prongs) and *Snuffles: James used to call Padfoot that when they were young animagi.
The second thing is that I changed some of the quidditch schedule to fit the story, It doesn't affect the story at all, but I'm warning you in case someone realize that the dates don't add up with the canon ones.
That being said, enjoy!! Let me know what you thought of this one<3
Chapter 11: Truce.
It was a particular year at Hogwarts. Days passed and the blond boy could still feel the dark atmosphere surrounding the castle. At first, he thought it was him being paranoid but, as time went by, he could still feel it in the air. To think that everything was so near... It sent chills down his spine.
The attacks were increasing. Everyday Draco checked the Daily prophet to see the list of 'missing', wishing that he wouldn't read any names from the people he cares about. He still talked to Severus about his mother weekly, but sometimes it was not enough to calm his nerves.
But you know what was the most weird and backwards thing at school in that year?  Potter being good at potions. It was driving Draco mad. When he asked Weasley about it, the redhead just shrugged and changed the subject. Stupid loyal weasel, always covering scarhead at things. Clearly there was a reason, the green-eyed boy didn't even touch a book all summer, so it wasn't studying.
 Days seemed to be calm besides being very dark… It was like everyday was rainy day. He almost didn’t remember what a sunny day at the castle was. Maybe you could have some days where it didn’t rain but the clouds always looked like they were preparing for a storm. Draco liked to think that, behind the clouds, the sun was shinning as always, that no Dark Lord could stop him from enjoying a sunny day if he wanted to, if he put his mind into it.
That day was a Sunday, but he wasn't playing chess. He was with Weasley outside, practicing for the quidditch tryouts. And if you would had asked Draco, the sun was shinning brightly.
"You look like a troll on a broom, Weasley"
Ron glared at him and took a hand off his broom to show him his middle finger.
"I caught everything you have thrown, you stupid ferret." Draco chuckled.
"That's because I suck as a chaser."
He throwed another quaffle at him that ended up being stopped by the boy's head.
" How graceful."
The redhead got off his broom and grabbed the quaffle. He started walking to where Draco was and hit him in the head with it. The blond boy started laughing and tried to take away the ball from Weasley's hands.
" Weasley cannot save a thing” he started to sing. Ron kept hitting him with the quaffle, it didn't stop him, though.
"He cannot block a single ring,"
 The redhead put his hand over Draco's mouth, but he just kept singing the lyrics from the song. The blond boy pinched Weasley's hand and as his friend whined from the pain, he kept on singing.
"That's why Slytherins all sing: Weasley is our King"
 "I could punch you."
"I know."
The redhead looked at him with a smug smile on his face.
"I'm going to get on the team, and I will enjoy seeing your stupid ferret face when we win the quidditch cup."
There it was, he had annoyed Weasley into determination. Good, with confidence he stood a chance.
"Malfoy."
The blond boy turned around and saw Potter standing there with an envelope in his hand.
"Potter. Whatever it is make it quick so I can keep mocking Weasley."
He heard the redhead yelled a 'hey' from behind him, but Draco ignored him. Potter extended his arm and offered him the letter he was carrying. The blond boy took it and started to open it.
"I got that this morning. I guess it's meant to be for you too."
Draco nodded and started to read the parchment.
Dear Fawn and Chimera,
We are happy to hear that you are both alive and well. Sorry if the letter is short but we agree with Chimera that this form of communication is a risk. Fawn, if Chimera doesn't know, teach him our other way of sending messages.
 We miss you arguing around the place all the time.
Snuffles and Deer
The blond boy turned to look at Potter.
"There is another way?"
The green eyed boy nodded at him. He leaned a little closer, Draco could feel his breath on his ear. Fuck, he was blushing and Weasley was looking at him with an amused expression as he raised one eyebrow. Stupid weasel. Then Potter whispered on his ear:
 "The Patronus charm. You can send messages through them."
He was so close. Draco could feel the fucking tickles all over his lungs. If paid enough attention, he could swear he felt the petals moving inside of him. Draco had never been so close to him, so close that if he turned his head, he could kiss Potter on the lips. The tickles got worst.
"Potter, would you kindly remove yourself from my personal space?"
 The dark haired boy looked confused but did as he was told. He knew his face was as red as Weasley's hair, he could feel the heat on his cheeks and Ron was still looking at him as if this moment was the most precious and hilarious thing he had witnessed in his entire life.
"Do you know how to produce one?" Draco returned his attention to the boy in front of him. Those green eyes were looking right at him. Stop you useless daffodils, he just whispered like ten fucking words to my ear
"Clearly I don't know. It's not on the curriculum." Potter shrugged and pushed some of his hair off his face.
"Well, I know how to cast it and I can teach you. I taught it at DA last year too."
Yeah, no. Absolutely not. He would not get private lessons from Potter in empty classrooms or whatever. The stupid flowers would not leave him alone, ever. He turned to the redhead then.
"You know how to cast it then, weasel?" The boy walked towards them, nodding his head.
"Great, then Weasley can teach me and I save you all the trouble, If they ask I'll say it was you who taught me. Problem solved." The blond boy turned around and grabbed the quaffle that was on the floor. " So... Practice?" He said as he turned his head a little to look at the redhead.
Weasley was doing that face he did when he thought that Potter would be mad. The blond boy didn't understand how they could be best friends if the redhead was always so bloody careful of not upsetting him or insult him by accident, most of all because the dark haired boy had so little filter to speak his mind. It should be two-way street.
"What? I, literally, didn't say anything wrong." He huffed. Weasley groaned and put his hands on his face as he took a deep breath. Well, excuse him, he didn't have a manual to understand the prat who lived.
"I am telling you that I helped the entire DA to cast it and you choose Ron to help you, just so can avoid spending time with me? Are you serious?"
Draco frowned at that. Who could understand this nutter? Two weeks ago, he was saying that he only apologized to be polite and now he was mad at him for saying that he prefers to have extracurricular classes with someone that was actually his friend.
"Do you want me to spend time with you, Potty?" He said as he raised his eyebrow. The green-eyed boy sighed and passed his hands over his face. Then he looked at him and said:
"Whatever. Do whatever. Why do I even bother? You are impossible." And he turned around and left both boys standing there.
Weasley sighed too, grabbed his broom, and did a little gesture indicating to follow him. They walked for a while in silence until they got near some trees. Ron laid down on the grass and sighed like he was tired. Draco sat beside him with his back resting on the trunk.
"Ferret you need to see that he is trying. It's exhausting hearing him complain about you when you do shit like this." He said with a calm voice. Draco didn't say anything, so Ron kept talking. "When you outright say that you don't want to be his friend or that you don't even want him near if you can help it... " He sighed. " It upsets him. Harry gets in this weird mood when I'm around because It bothers him that you don't have any problem spending time with me." Suddenly, the redhead incorporated and sat down too. "OH, that reminds me! Harry said to us that you don't speak to him or Hermione because of the blood status. I told him that it was rubbish, but then Mione said that you don't normally speak to her or that you didn't tried to apologize for second year and-"
"Your girlfriend literally punched me on the face, I don't see her apologizing either."
Ron's face went so red at that, he widened his eyes and looked at him and hissed a response.
" She is NOT my girlfriend. I don't know what the bloody hell made you think tha-"
"Please, you are so in love with her! It's so obvious it hurts my eyes, weasel." If he thought that the boy couldn't go any redder, he was wrong. He saw him pulling his knees to his chest and looking away.
"Do you think she knows?" He asked in a quiet, shy voice.
Draco, honestly, didn't have the slightest idea. Gryffindors were so oblivious to things like this... but Granger was the smartest witch from their year, the blond boy supposed she would at least imagine it being a possibility.
"I don't know... I don't hang out with her that much, and she is not as transparent as you are about things.” He took a deep breath before continuing (at least as deep as he could). “And about Potter ridiculous theory, I don't talk to them because they don't want to talk to me. It's like they expect me to beg them for a chance and I'm not like that. And your prat of a best friend knows that this is not about his stupid blood status, he is just playing dumb.”
He looked over at his friend, the boy had this worried look on his face as he was playing with a little rock he found beside him. Draco sighed and laid down. He didn’t want to lose Weasley over the other two thirds of the stupid golden trio. He would regret this.
“Fine.” He said while rolling his eyes, the redhead looked down to where he was. “I’ll ask Potter to help me with the bloody charm, and if this doesn’t get him to like my beautiful personality then I’m out. AND you must promise not to bother me with this again. This is me trying; take it or leave it.”
Ron smiled brightly at him and nodded enthusiastically. Draco rolled his eyes again. They were in silence for a while, he could feel that the redhead wanted to say something. Maybe something about Granger.
It wasn’t about her.
“Saw you blushing over there when Harry got close to you.” And he said it in such a smug way, so Weasley. Draco glared at him. “It’s that why you don’t want him around? Because you fancy him?”
DENY, DENY, DENY.
Draco chuckled and shook his head. ACT ALOOF, IT DIDN’T EVEN CROSSED YOUR MIND. “The stupid tickles were acting up. So, if he talked about him, he also could have a reaction. Great.
“No, Weasley. I just never had a boy whispering things in my ear, it could happen with anyone.” That was a lie because Theo use to do it all the time, and Draco would get nervous or whatever but not that much. That was all Potter.
The redhead didn’t look convinced, but he said:
“Okay, I was just curious.”
                   --------------------------------------------------------------------
 This was the weirdest thing ever. He was with Weasley at the entrance of the Gryffindor common room, the stupid petals were moving all over, and his breathing was so shallow he could faint in any moment then.
Weasley got in and he waited there for Potter to come out of the Lion’s Den. He wasn’t feeling good. Scarhead was taking his time and Draco started to think that maybe it was because he didn’t want to see him at all, not even to insult him. One, two, three, four… He tried to breath, but the air was barely getting to his lungs.
What was weird was that he didn’t feel like coughing. The good tickles were there, they were not so soft anymore, but he didn’t have the need to cough. It was like they were pulling him to Potter, like that afternoon when the boy whispered in his ear… they were encouraging him to be near him.
That was not good though, Draco always had problems at controlling himself when the green-eyed boy was there. If he had something pushing him towards him it would be bad. It would be so obvious that whatever truce Draco could manage would be annulled when Potter realize that he is pathetically in love with him. Maybe he would even be disgusted of him. The strong tickles were appearing at the thought when he heard the boy’s voice.
“Ron said you needed something.”
Potter was arms crossed, bored expression on his face. He was clearly pissed off.
“Can you teach me the Patronus charm?” The dark-haired boy snorted.
“I thought you wanted Ron to teach you.” He said as he raised an eyebrow.
“Weasley says that you want to teach me, otherwise you wouldn’t have offered. I thought you were just being polite, like when you apologized for the train ride. I wasn’t going to bother you with this.”
The boy then looked a little guilty. He uncrossed his arms and passed a hand through his hair, leaving it messier than before. Then, he spoke quietly.
“The thing on the train was a mistake and I really am sorry. I kept thinking that it couldn’t be real: you putting your life at risk for us, helping us, just because… I mean-“ He changed the weight between his feet a little. “I know you must have your reasons, but I don’t know them. Everything I don’t know about you is in this grey area and I keep trying to find explanations. That was what the train was about and I’m sorry.” Then he gave Draco a beautiful smile and the stupid flowers kept tickling him, they were a nightmare, he can’t even remember what was breathing like, before all this. “To be honest this month was rather boring without you calling me a prat all the time.”
For Salazar’s sake, Draco was going to die from tickles on his lungs. That was what the newspaper would write as headlines: ‘Ex- Malfoy heir dies from tickles’. He touched his ribs, pet them, like if that would calm down the petals that were inside of him.
“It’s okay, Potter. I know who I am, and I understand why you did what you did.”
The boy nodded at him and seemed to be more relaxed now. Then he spoke again.
“Okay… good. And just to be clear: I didn’t just apologize only to be polite.” Draco chuckled.
“Yes, I got that, Potter.”
“So… when are you free for the lessons?”
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venxmedina · 4 years
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hellllo family :~) guess who’s baaaack !! it’s chelly, with my sassy little babie venice, whom i love very much and hopefully you do, too !! she’s a fun one to go out with, will flirt with you, takes up dance studio time whenever she can, and isn’t afraid to voice her opinions. i’m so excited to get her back into the swing of things, since i am bringing her back from a smol hiatus !! like this or shoot me a message if you’d like to plot :pleading fc: :~)
— && guests may mistake me as ( camila mendes ), but really i am ( venice medina + cis female + she/her ) and my DOB is ( 3/31/1995 ). i am applying for the ( housekeeper ) position as part of the EHP and would like to live in suite ( 213 ). i should be hired because i am ( charming & witty ), but i can also be ( cunning & dramatic ) at times. personally, i like to ( go shopping, attend dance classes & practice self care ) when off the clock, but that won’t interfere with work.
okay before this gets waaaay too long lmfao here’s a TL:DR of venice, her pinterest board, and her connection page 
venice is a spoiled rich girl who mommy & daddy never really paid much attention to except when it came to succeeding in life and she responded to that by partying and being a wild child tbqh, resulting in her parents cutting her off and forcing her to take on a real job at the malnati. she’s returning after her grandfather passed, which essentially turned into just another instance of her parents controlling her life and not trusting her to take care of herself or the medina family name. she’s resentful of them bc they never rlly believed in her and instead treated her more-so as a pawn to advance their family's position which is a lil dehumanizing as a daughter and she's now determined to prove them wrong and actually make something of herself. her parents put her into ballet classes from such a young age and although most of anything they made her do has mostly been tainted now, dance is the one thing that's stuck and brings her so much joy and purpose so she still takes classes & is in search of a permanent partner to compete with.  she’s more than just a pretty lil rich girl, like she does have a heart ( kind of a big one but lowkey tho asdlfj ), but she's also got a bit of an identity crisis now that she's fully on her own and not under the influence of her parents or with the comfort of her brother, and that's ... different. kind of a cold bitch, but she’s charming and sociable and has a good heart but she’s guarded and afraid of getting hurt.
here is her pinterest board & her connection page <3 i’d especially love some hookup buds, a dance partner, childhood enemy, one night stands, fake relationships, fiesty friends, frenemies, and just about anything tbh :~)
tw: drugs & alcohol mention, neglect, death
*:・゚・✧・ who am i?: the medina family fortune was founded during the gold rush era in which the family immigrated from brazil and were talented metal-workers who could turn such raw materials into works of sheer beauty. jewelry, picture frames, gold plated toilet seats and architectural elements alike - everyone in hollywood wanted something made by the medinas. their prominence never weaned, either. throughout the decades, the family fortune has amassed well beyond anyone’s wildest dreams and therefore money is barely to be considered to the medinas despite them still understanding the value of a dollar earned. given the diversity in which the wealth is spread, and the investments that it has been used to make, it is obvious that they are a family of considerable wealth making up the upper class. their high-rise in the upper east side really says it all. this was the world that venice was introduced to, and quite frankly, it was all she had ever known. her guarded building was as much as she was allowed to venture out into for many a year, where the doorman was a babysitter and mrs. winters’ dog a few floors down was a friend. of course, there were a few other kids in her building whose parents were either fond or jealous of the medinas, so until she went to school venice did get to socialize with kids her own age too. her older brother, lucca, was one of her biggest saving graces. he was one of the only people in her life that truly gave her the time of day, and as much as it pained venice to be constantly overlooked by her parents in favor of lucca, he was her best friend. for all intents and purposes, he was the only medina who made her feel like she even had a family, and if there's anyone she's more loyal to than anyone else, it'd him. but per her education, venice attended private schools in the city throughout her life, even being tutored by some of the most highly reputable and paid retired teachers in the entire state for extra attention. getting a proper education was more important to her parents than it was to venice, so she put in the minimal effort needed. it wasn’t as if she was ever going to be given a failing grade, and it wasn't as though an A on a paper was going to garner her parents' attention for long ( if at all - it was what was expected of her ). the girl knew of her influence and the power her family held from an early age. whatever she wanted, she got, and that was the precedent that had been set from infancy. whatever would get her to stop whining, that’s what she got.
*:・゚・✧・ attention to detail: half of the battle for venice, though, throughout her life, was garnering her parent’s attention. her father was a proven, accomplished businessman who was often out of the state or city to tend to whatever firm needed his attention. her mother was a socialite who was more concerned with keeping up the image of a perfect household than actually tending to one. it wasn’t that there was a lack of love for her, from her parents, it was just rather that care was seldom expressed when venice so desperately needed it. she had spent more time with nannies and tutors and tennis instructors than she did her own parents, and that left a vacancy in her heart. naturally, her relationship with her brother was one that she worked on every day; they were thick as thieves and everyone knew the medina siblings. but, she couldn't follow her brother all day for the rest of her life, and as much as his love helped fill some of those voids in her heart, it wasn't always enough, either. she sought out their attention in so many different avenues. whether that be through ballet dance recitals, throwing temper tantrums if she wasn’t getting her way, leaving notes on her mother and father’s pillows … venice really tried all of it. and sure, she would occasionally get some kind of attention in return, but it was usually fleeting and uninspiring. they favored lucca in just about every aspect, and expected him to carry on the family name, line, and company so in a lot of ways - he took precedence. and this wasn’t dissimilar to the experiences of some of the people she called her friends at the time. her parents were busy people who didn’t have much time to deal with the handful of a daughter that they had.
*:・゚・✧・ to be needed: this is where much of venice’s neediness has stemmed from. she truly does seek out those who are more likely to give her attention, to feed into her, even though she has been taken advantage of time and time again over the years. it’s not something she is even consciously aware of, it’s mostly just something that happens. or at least that’s how it started out. even to this day it can be difficult for venice to understand what a mutually beneficial relationship looks like, but that doesn’t mean she’s incapable of learning. for a long time, the people who wanted to be in her life also wanted access to the lavish lifestyle that follows her. this often meant that so many of venice’s ‘friendships’ were hollow, and merely existed to the benefit of the other person. it took awhile before venice started to realize that all of the trips she took people on, the random shopping sprees, the VIP bottle service, the ‘borrowed’ gucci and hermes - it was all for nothing. it wasn’t until she graduated that all of this dawned on the girl, but it did. and while she still feels that aching need to be surrounded by others, to be validated in some way, she is far more guarded now and protective of herself; she isn’t just going to be used by anyone ever again, and that lesson is one she holds very close to her heart. which she’d personally describe as a cold one if only to protect it.
*:・゚・✧・ reckless abandon: but … speaking of, like so many of our favorite little rich girls, venice has always been a rebellious one. it started when she was a sixteen year old who had access to her own limo and could go wherever the hell she wanted. she had met plenty of other affluent sons and daughters of her parent’s pals by that point, and they had their own sort of ‘code’ amongst them. she started experimenting with drugs and alcohol at an early age and since it was what everyone else was doing, it allowed her to be a part of the club, and that’s what she was searching for. it warranted attention from the paparazzi, from these other so-called ‘friends’ of hers. her beach house in the hamptons was her playground every weekend during the summer and it was good she had a maid service on speed dial because after her friends were through on a sunday night, it was necessary. she'd grown to essentially need a bottle of titos if she were going out or a few bumps to get her through a night, and it was incredibly unhealthy, but it was one of those staples that made her feel better. even for a little. even in fleeting moments.
when she was graduating from her private academy and just turning 18, the need and desire to escape her family's imposing pressures and lack of care grew deeply. she knew that she wanted to escape to the west coast, and after spending far too many weekends jet-setting all over the country, the dry heat that filed the arizona air was appealing to her. she was miles away from her parent's, but still close enough to the beach and access to all the funds she could ever ask for. she was a party girl who barely attended classes and it was her family name that mostly got her through the couple of years that she even attended. she spent most of her time shopping, getting high, and drinking all night long. perhaps what was the most shocking was the relationship venice found herself in. he was a football player, older, undoubtedly gorgeous, and one of the kindness people venice had ever met ... up until meeting mason, she had basically only been surrounded by people who wanted to use her and didn't genuinely give a shit about her at the end of the day; they were in it for themselves, and mason was the exact opposite. he considered her, was far more mature than most of the people she'd ever spent time with, and she latched onto that breath of positivity and openness that was mason davis. even till this day, her relationship with mason was the longest one she'd ever found herself in, and to put it simply: she fell in love and she fell hard. some of her fondest memories were cheering him on at every game, celebrating the wins, and introducing him to anyone she could who was in the professional scene because she believed in him more than anyone else. he was unlike anyone she'd ever met before and cared for him more than she could understand; he was her first true relationship, someone who deserved to be her one and only, and while it terrified her how much she felt for him, she thought it was all reciprocal - so what was there to worry about? well, the night to worry came. and it was when mason broke up with her - supposedly, with his graduation date coming, he wanted to spare her the hurt ... but, in reality, all it did was shatter the girl's heart at twenty years old and it's never fully recovered since.
it didn't take long for venice to go off the deep end after the breakup ... being at the university of arizona was way too much, and every memory that used to bring her nothing but happiness was tainted. every ounce of personal growth that she had worked on seem to vanish overnight, and she was just angry, and hurt, and it was like all of those moments her parents made her feel like she wasn't enough - they were right. and still ... she needed home, to go home, to be surrounded by people who she was familiar with and who she knew would let her lean on them ... even if there were only a couple of people back home who'd comfort her, even if it was just lucca, she needed to go back to the city she knew like the back of her hand. even to be surrounded by people who'd pretend to care about her just for a night in her lifestyle. so she put in a transfer application to NYU, and yet again, it was her family name and pedigree that got her into the school. and attending NYU ... well it wasn't much better and when she first started at UoA. she’d hook up with anyone who she deemed interesting and the next night she was onto someone new. she was almost desperate in getting over mason in the only way she knew how ... getting under someone else. and she did a whole lot of that. everyone knew who she was on the party scene and you either hated venice or loved venice - but no matter what, you knew who she was. and that's how she survived her last two years ... making the rounds, living it up, partying and relying on her favorite substances .. it wasn't good, and it wasn't pretty, but it was what she knew best and that's what she reverted to at the time.
*:・゚・✧・ riptide: anytime she could garner his parent’s attention with her reckless escapades, it was a win. that’s what she wanted. she wanted their attention, no matter what way she could get it, and there was something extremely fun in the process of getting it. but as she got older, her parents stopped caring as much. they knew venice wasn’t making healthy choices, spent too much time partying and out all night rather than studying, that she probably was crying over for something or someone, but that wasn’t what they were most concerned with. no, they were more concerned with the tabloids and the family’s reputation - that’s why they weren't paying venice any attention while she was away at NYU. they’d threaten to cut her off and that she would no longer be apart of their family if she continued to act this way in public. whether it was in a headline or on social media, she was being filmed and photographed acting out and being a truly spoiled brat which wasn’t the image that her family so desperately sought to protect.
*:・゚・✧・this is growing up: it has been a true emotional rollercoaster between venice and her parents - constantly struggling to support their daughter and ‘set her on the right path’ versus venice’s ‘devil may care’ attitude. so many of her parents threats have been empty, and she had never truly thought that in all of their attempts to get her to be the picture perfect daughter that they wanted that they’d cut her off and force her to fend for herself. but, that’s exactly what happened. after graduating NYU with a degree in marketing, venice figured that her parents were get her in to one of the top agencies in the city and she would be able to live out her life with the top dogs like her father had. and for a long time, that is exactly what her parents had promised her. but then her graduation came and it was just after that she had pulled her biggest stunt and had stripped down on top of the bar at one of her parent’s fundraising events during a drunken stupor. that was truly a turning point in her relationship with her parents, considering just how badly she embarrassed them at their own fundraising event. and truly it all stemmed from that desire to be seen by them, by anyone, to be considered at all. the most they were concerned with when it came to venice was where she was going to be working and later living. they didn’t care that she was depressed, covering it up with partying and alcohol, that she wanted their love to be expressed and to feel as though she belonged to a real family. and she’s always known her life is wonderful compared to so many others, and there is guilt that comes from that, too, but still she couldn’t stop herself from acting out when she needed attention the most. and that is when her parents ultimately decided to cut her off - freeze her accounts, reposses her car, and force her to get a job that would actually put her back into the real world.
*:・゚・✧・out here on my own: and really, that is how venice has ended up in chicago in the first place. the medinas are friends with the malnatis, and they agreed to take her on as an employee through the employee housing program and to ( most importantly ) get her away from mommy & daddy and out of The City. it’s the first time in her life where she’s without friends, money, or any sort of support. honestly, she feels quite abandoned by her family, as she looks at it like they got sick of dealing with her so they shipped her off elsewhere to be someone else’s problem. the resentment is there, and now more than ever venice is determined to show her parents that she doesn’t need them or their money, that she’s going to be capable of being on her own and working a medial job like being a maid without crawling back to them. sure, she’s going to hate cleaning up after people when she used to have a nanny who would tidy up her own place, as she truly has been spoiled, but she’s determined to grin and bare it before going back home. besides, so much of her life has been focused on gaining their attention, approval, to be validated by anyone, to be seen as something more than just a pretty face with a fat bank account … and while she hasn’t always helped herself to be seen in any other light, she’s consumed by the idea of doing so now. this is the first time in venice’s life where she isn’t under her parent’s thumb. where she isn’t constantly under the influence of some substance. where she isn’t doing something insanely foolish or unhealthy to try and gain the favor of someone whos approval requires chasing. she’s really just getting to live within her own skin, be herself and figure out what that looks like.
after working at the malnati for a handful of months, it was a family emergency that landed her back in new york ... her grandfather had passed, the true patriarch of the family, and that came with a lot of 'passing of the guard' within the medina family enterprise. it meant funerals, and meetings with lawyers, and memorial services, and rekindlings with her brother, and public appearances, and making statements and being interviewed for magazines, and it was then that venice had truly learned of her position in her family. while her grandfather had left her stock options in her name when he passed, and plenty for her to be able to live comfortably off of for the rest of her life, it was so written that it was contingent upon her father's disbursement of the stocks when he deemed she was so fit to handle them. so it was even in death, her family did not trust her enough to be able to handle herself. she was still considered reckless, unreliable, and unworthy of holding a stake in medina international ... while it wasn't anything new or surprising to venice, it still hurt just the same. because she'd spent the past year working on herself, away from the pressures of being a medina, separated from her family and essentially disowned by her own parents and even still, she found herself at their mercy once more. it would come at no surprise that she decided to leave it all behind her once more ... which is why she's returned to chicago, not as a guest at the malnati, but as an employee. as someone with aspirations and desires to move up in the world, once more on her own, once more with a heart she's nursing from lovers she's had to say goodbye to, once again without the support of her family, and furthermore with the wrath and persistence only a medina can procure.
*:・゚・✧・it’s a new dawn: she still gives into her pleasures, whether that be sex or art or dancing, all of which she’s never been able to kick but she manages them well and enjoys them all the same. she is still a good time, someone fun to be around, and is always willing to get the party started no matter where she is. she’s kind of done it all, and while some of that has been left behind now that she’s got some different focuses in life, venice knows what makes her feel best and doesn’t want to deprive herself of that, either. she’s currently obsessed with her taking dance classes and is constantly updating her instagram followers on all that she can show them when she’s in the studio. after taking ballet classes for most of her life, she is quite good and likes to indulge in those, but her latest passion has been in salsa and hip hop. it’s not only a great workout to keep herself in shape but she likes the way she feels when she’s doing it, too. and piano lessons were big in her household, as her parents wanted her to be educated in the arts too, so she’s kept a keyboard lying around her things in case she ever feels a spark of desire to mess around on the keys.
*:・゚・✧・it’s a new day: mostly, venice is a guarded gal who loves to have a good time and will absolutely give anyone a hard time when they deserve it. she’s dramatic, to a fault, and she knows it and could not care less. to quote, “i am who i am, and if you don’t like it then there’s the door.”. she’s loyal to the people that she decides she wants to have in her life, but will be very cautious about those she doesn’t trust right away, which can stem from some kind of experience of her own judgement since she does tend to operate off of preconceived notions of people until proven otherwise. and despite being crass, she can also be rather charming, and is a sociable person at her core so she will be willing to strike up conversations with whoever - but whether the conversation goes well or not is another thing. her ultimate weakness though is pretty people, as she is attracted to both men and women, and likes to engage in all kinds of relationships with anyone she thinks is attractive and interesting. so if she starts flirting with you, she has every intention on getting to know you one way or another. in truth, venice has a good heart, and it’s simply masked by a lot of vibrato and insecurity. her biggest fear is not being enough, and that’s so much of the reason why she’s never really tried to be anything. but since being cut off, and repeatedly cast aside by her family, she’s found this rejuvenated sense of desire to prove everyone wrong - that she is worth a damn, that she can work her way up the ladder and break out into the ‘real world’ on her own, that she’s enough.
also if you got this far honestly thank you asdkfalf i do not deserve you lmfao this has been a journey and if you had to suffer through all the typos i’ve likely made, i owe you <3
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just-another-alone · 4 years
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Life Vol. 1
I was born an accident.
I didn’t stay that way luckily, as my parents decided to keep me and care for me as best they could. I was conceived under the influence of drugs and it was because of this that the state in which I was born made the decision to remove me from my parents and give me to my next of kin. This happened when I was only 6 months old.
Till I was 4 years old, I like to think I lived a relatively normal childhood. I dont remember much from before that age, but I do remember the day that my Aunt told me that she was not my real mother. 
What did she mean? I lived in the same house as her and my Dad and my other siblings for as long as I could remember. I was so confused. Adding to my confusion was the discovery that I was the only one with this circumstance; all of my other brothers and sisters were true-born from my Mom and Dad. 
It seemed that from that point on, relations with my family plummeted. I couldn’t seem to get along with my brothers anymore, and some of the older ones even bullied me at times. Of course in hindsight it may have just been a more intense form of a “tough love” but it never felt that way to me. I went to bed many evenings with bruises and cuts on my face and arms from my mothers anger, though I never knew why its sole recipient was me. The situation escalated and deescalated several times until at the age of 10 my guardians turned to one of our religious leaders for help, saying(as I learned later) “If we can’t find a place to put this kid, we might end up killing him.” The couple that they turned to volunteered to take me in.
I remember packing my back with my family, telling me that I was going to stay with this other family(I will call them the Jones) for a while. It all seemed normal until i asked if I was going to need to come back and wash my clothes before Sunday. To which my mother replied, “You’ll be with the Jones for a few Sundays.” 
The Jones lived in a nice home. It was large and spacious, usually always clean, and had lots of land for me to play in with the couple of dogs that they owned. For the first two weeks I had a blast. I ran myself to exhaustion swimming and playing and riding on 4-wheelers and generally having a great time. Then it seemed to hit me that I wasn’t going to ever go back home. When my childlike energy and enthusiasm sank, Mrs. Jones asked me if I was homesick. But I wasn’t. I just wished I knew what I had done wrong. I wished I knew why I couldn’t go home.
I did grow accustomed to life with the Jones though, and even began going to a public school(previously I had been home schooled). Good things never last though and due to personal reasons, I had to be removed from the Jones’ home as well at the age of 13. 
I won’t disclose here what I did to lose my family’s trust and affection, only that it was something entirely of my own fault and a shame that I will likely carry to my grave. I did try to make amends, though the process proposed by the Jones seemed more like a twisted revenge than actual heartfelt retribution. It was around this time that I learned a lesson that has been my saving grace more times than I can’t count.
“If you cannot change it, don’t worry about it.” 
I simply stopped caring about the Jones’ need for retribution or atonement or whatever it was that they were willing to put me through so much anguish to achieve. What had happened was in the past and there was nothing I could do to take any of it back. 
This was the first half of my life and only the beginning of so many lessons that lead to where I am today. I write this in the hopes that it can help someone somewhere. Anywhere. 
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