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cyn-00 · 4 years

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Moreid one shot, 4 - "the first one"

Season 6, episode 1 "The longest night" (at the end of the episode, when the team arrives to the couple's house where the unsub is - the "Prince of Darkness", and Morgan alone gets in)

I know I have just posted number 3 but hey, I felt productive, so...enjoy it while it lasts? I'm sure as hell gonna have a drop in creativity soon and won't be posting for like...weeks.

Also, it's a long-ish one, sorry ❤️ (? I guess? Maybe it's better for you). Note: I think I kept the unsub’s lines pretty much consistent with what he actually said in the show - the concept is the same, words might be different

Y'all this fucking episode...there was SO MUCH Moreid Angst potential...wasted. robbed. Ugh.

Read it on AO3

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The team along with the police arrived to the home of the couple where the unsub was reported to be, after he let out of the car the little girl he had taken as a hostage.

It was melting hot and the sun was blinding, the bulletproof vests and the obvious anxiousness were surely not making any of it any easier.

Reid had been worried for Morgan all day long. After he was the first to find and succor him at detective Spicer's house in Santa Monica, the night before - where he was tied and kicked repeatedly by the unsub - Spencer wasn't sure he could think straight. But Derek was wired like that: if anybody doubted his capability to keep working efficiently even when hurt, they would get yelled at. Of course, Garcia and Reid got yelled at.

And he had only apologized to Garcia so far.

Just before getting in all together, they received a phone call. Spencer was too far to hear what it was about, but as soon as the local pd officer passed the phone to Derek, he gathered that the call was from the unsub. And that he wanted Morgan to deal with him personally.

"Wait- what's happening?" he nervously asked Prentiss, even though he knew exactly what was happening. He just wanted someone external to confirm that his theory was correct, and that he wasn't going batshit crazy.

"I think he wants Morgan to get in." Prentiss answered. Reid was so tense he didn't even register what she'd just said, even being the one who asked in the first place.

Morgan made a few steps ahead with Hotch right behind him. Reid's nerves started to untangle.

But then the man stopped and turned around to confront their team leader. Again: Spencer couldn't hear, but from the look on Derek's face, he seemed enraged just as much as confident in his ability to handle what he was walking into. Reid wasn’t equally confident in such thing, though.

Hotch nodded and stepped away.

"He- he's going in alone?? W- why isn't Hotch going with him? He cannot- Morgan! Morgan wait-" Spencer was about to run toward him, but Emily grabbed his arm strongly enough to keep him from getting any farther.

"Reid," she said softly.

"What?! Are we really going to watch him get killed? He's probably not even completely aware, he's hurt and he didn't even rest for a second like we all told him to do- and the MEDICS, too, I- I get that he doesn't wanna listen to me but at leas-"

"Reid, stop. You going in there is not gonna make things any better. You have to trust him." she reasoned, assertive.

Hotch, still a little far from them both, shot him a stern glare and shook his head, as if saying: "Don't. Let him go."

Spencer calmed down just enough to realize what Emily had just said. Was she intending that if he went in it would only get worse because he was the weak and clumsy one? Same old stuff. Was that excuse ever gonna stop being an argument to persuade him not to do things? Not to help people?

Spencer gave her a deadly glance.

"It's not about me. And it's not about trusting him- I don't trust the psychopath killer on a spree that's in there with Morgan, not Morgan. We should all go in with him, I- I don't understand why I'm the only one who cares, we are a team, right?? That's what you guys always tell me when I'm about to do stupid things or- or try to deal alone with matters that are bigger than me. So why are we purposely letting him go alone all of a sudden? That's EXACTLY what the unsub is waiting for." he explained rationally, but rattling on as fast as he did everytime he was convinced about something - which was...always.

He snatched his arm away from Emily's grip before she could reply with something that would only make him more mad, and quickly strode far from everyone, looking down at the ground while stripping off his bulletproof vest with twitchy fingers. He felt breathless, on the verge of crying and, at that point, even useless and on some measure mocked by his very team- his family.

When Reid screamed at him, Morgan obviously heard him. But in that moment, the anger he was feeling caused everything else to shift to a lower level of importance. Even his Spencer worrying about him - actually, it was especially the thought of his boyfriend worrying about him that Derek was trying to push back into a hidden corner of his head: he couldn't let the guilt of making him wait helplessly eat at him in that moment.

He kept walking toward the door. He just wanted to get over with that psychopath and run back in the arms of his lover, apologizing and letting him pet his neck while whispering forgiving words in his ear.

Once he entered the house, he heard the unsub talking to him.

"Over here, agent." he said.

Morgan slowly and cautiously walked toward the couple's bedroom, from where the disgustingly over-polite voice was coming, with his gun firmly pointed ahead.

When he got in, the two hostages were curled up on themselves on the floor; wrists, ankles and mouths duct-taped. The "Prince of Darkness" was sitting on the bed between them, denying the couple to even find comfort in each other's proximity; a gun in his hand.

And he was crying. Morgan wasn't sure if it was to try and make him pity him, or if he was actually feeling some kind of emotion besides...pure evil, if that can even be defined as an emotion.

"That's it. You have no way out." he said in an unwavering tone, approaching closer.

"You say?" the unsub laughed.

Morgan slowly but carefully lowered his firearm. "I'm not afraid of you."

"But they are." answered the man - though Derek was reluctant to deem him such - pointing at the two with his gun, making them squeak in fear.

"You see," he continued, still crying. "right after I killed my mother, she looked at me - I don't know if I was imagining it - but she looked at me with relief, sort of. Like I finally set her free."

Morgan scowled. He heated up and raised the gun toward him, again.

"That's what you think you were doing to those people? You thought that by killing them you were doing them a FAVOR?" he asked. The uncomfortable realization of knowing the answer to such question already, triggered in Derek's body the urge of vomiting from one second to another.

Both their guns were aiming right at each other’s heads now.

"Naah " the unsub replied; on his face a grimace akin to a smug, lopsided smile. He stood up from the mattress.

"I killed them because I decided they had to die. Just like...God." his self-complacent grin widened.

"You sick bastard." Morgan spat through gritted teeth, fire in his eyes, sweat drooling down his temples.

Two gun shots were fired. Everyone outside heard them.

Reid was suddenly like woken up from a dream - one that left him with a bad feeling in the pit of his stomach. His heart stopped for a fraction of second only to start pounding rapidly right after; his brain went blank, like static.

It didn't even cross his mind that everyone on the team along with the police were gonna go in anyway: he ran toward the house, forgetting to put on his vest; merely accompanied by his gun and the instinct to rescue the man he would’ve cut off all his limbs for.

Prentiss and Hotch screamed at him with all their breath, but in all honesty he couldn't have cared less. The voices of his two teammates sounded muffled to his ears, as if three layers of thick glass were separating them from him. He had this gut feeling that Derek had taken too much time in there to taste his revenge, and that's exactly what the guy was expecting from him, using it in his favor to hurt him or - more likely - kill him: he had NO intention nor interest in trusting those two again.

Both his thoughts and his steps were suddenly interrupted by someone who jumped in front of him and pressed a palm firmly on his chest: it was Rossi.

"You cannot go in there without vest, kiddo. We're going in."

"Then come with me, but I won't stand here doing nothing! What the hell are you guys waiting for?? I've seen no one moving for fuck 's sake- what, have you given up on him already??" Spencer yelped in response, his voice coming out way less steady than he'd wished to.

Their altercation was cut off by Emily's voice.

"...Reid..."

"What now??" he bit back, annoyed.

She was staring at the front door, pointing at something. Or someone.

Spencer turned around, hoping not to see the unsub, because that would’ve meant he’d got the better out of the two.

His heart stopped - again. His eyes filled up with tears. His bones shuddered.

Derek was there, right outside of the door, standing still. His bulletproof vest in one hand, his gun in the other. He looked physically and mentally drained out, breathing heavily as if trying not to pass out on the hardwood floor of the porch; but at the same time relieved that he could feel sensations and emotions again, instead of a continuous state of sheer rage and frustration, all the time: he could feel his eyes prickling with tears, his heart hammering in his ears, his skin cold-sweating from the breeze blowing hot and humid against it.

He was staring at Spencer and Spencer was staring back at him, but neither was making an effort to close the 30 ft distance separating them.

When Spencer saw him taking a few steps in his direction, he stilled. But then Derek froze in spot, as if suddenly realizing that his legs were crumbling under his weight, disabling him from getting more than a few feet ahead; ignoring the fact that he was supposed to be the "strong" one out of the two - out of them all.

JJ was watching from far away. Hotch, Prentiss and Rossi were standing, encircling Reid, like they were all waiting for him to do something, like they wanted to give him the privilege of going toward Morgan first.

Spencer got the hint. He absent-mindedly pulled away David's hand from his shoulder, and finally started walking forward, putting his gun away.

He didn't run. He didn't feel the need to do so: it was like the urge to go and "save" him was gone the moment he came out of the house and everybody saw him, alive, breathing.

Once he was right in front of him, he stared long and deep into his glossy eyes, immobilized. He didn't know what to tell him, and neither did Derek: there was nothing to say, they were feeling too much to think about the right words to speak, to give some sort of hierarchical order to the things they had to get off of their aching chests.

Derek could no longer keep his usual alpha-male show going. He dropped his vest and gun to the ground, falling on his knees with a thud, shedding his first tear since it all started. Nobody on the team had ever seen him that vulnerable - Spencer, on the other hand, was certainly not new to it.

He kneeled down as well, finally getting to wrap his boyfriend in his arms as tight as he could; dwelling on the unfounded, naive and anti-scientific conviction that he could keep his crumbling body whole only with his slim frame, hoping it could act as a glue to stick together the smithereens of Derek’s soul.

Derek hugged him back just as tight, forgetting that the same amount of strength that made him comfortable in Spencer's arms, could actually make it difficult for the skinny man to breathe, squeezed in a body twice as strong - albeit equally tall.

But neither of them cared, in that moment.

He buried his face in Spencer's neck, keeping at bay the volume of his choking sobs and probably soaking wet the collar of his shirt: hiding him from judgemental eyes was a small price Spencer was willing to pay, if it made Derek feel like he was finally allowed to find comfort in him.

Spencer closed his eyes, massaging the back of his neck; uncaring of the sensation of his skin melting from the heat imbuing the air surrounding them, only increased by the warmth of their hug.

Derek shifted a little.

"Kid I- I'm so sorry for treating you like crap in the past days..." he finally stuttered against Spencer's skin. He wasn't really expecting an answer: he knew that Spencer - and, to be honest, everyone else on the team - could not but agree on that, and that he’d probably already forgiven him, like they always did when they got mad at each other.

Derek kissed his temple.

"and I love you." he added, once he’d lifted his head just enough to reach Spencer’s ear.

He kissed his earlobe, risking to deafen him with the smacking sound - he could feel the man's muzzle scrunching at that.

"I swear to God I love you, Spencer, I love you so much."

He lowered his face, reclaiming his previous spot on Spencer’s neck, placing kisses on his damp skin - from sweat and tears.

"-love you, I love you, I loveyou-" he whispered in a loop, as if the more he said it, the higher the odds that Spencer’s body could absorb the concept.

Derek himself couldn't believe he was actually saying it out loud - not like that. He knew Spencer knew it, even by just demonstrating it - which was way more important and tangible. But that time he felt like he needed to actually voice it, and the fact that he told him so not that often, convinced Spencer more and more that the way Derek loved him was not the same way he loved the others on the team; each time the three words were repeated, again and again and again, like a gentle but forceful lullaby, wrecking down his wall of uncertainty.

"I know you do." Spencer interrupted Derek’s flowing of whispers, sniffling. "and you know I love you too."

Suddenly, he felt some kind of...drop, falling on his shoulder, sinking through the thin cotton of his shirt. He let go of Derek and looked at him: it wasn't the tears.

"Your cut is bleeding again...you should have known better than to just ask for a band-aid." he said, regaining a bit of composure while he cleaned the blood drooling from the other's brow with his thumb, careful not to touch the open scratch.

"It's just a cut." Derek shrugged, wiping off the tears from his face with the back of his hand.

"The ambulance is already here, you should go to the hospital so they can at least put a couple of stitches on it." Spencer insisted, playing the puppy-eye card.

Morgan sighed at how annoyingly and at the same time adorably caring Reid always acted when he was hurt. He resigned to stand up on his feet, prompting at the other to do the same, and they walked together toward one of the two ambulances.

Once they’d stepped out of their timeless, little bubble of emotions and tear-wet kisses and entanglement of limbs and whispered words; they both realized the only ones that had been looking at them for those few minutes were the policemen, mostly confused or even moved, but strangely not mocking: JJ was trying to shoo away some reporters, Hotch was on the phone - supposedly with Strauss or Garcia - Rossi and Prentiss were inside the house. All of them had probably seen the scene but were very good at hiding it.

Derek was sitting on the back of the ambulance. The medic hadn't arrived yet. Spencer was standing in front of him, trying to minimize the bleeding with a gauze, and more importantly to prevent any infections.

"I can do it alone, you know?" Derek told him, gazing at him with heart eyes.

"I don't care." Reid responded unbothered, concentrated on the task at hand.

He then removed the gauze from Morgan's cut, letting out a sigh.

"...I- I should stay here, you know? The team might need my help with some stuff." Spencer said in a tone full of resignation and apology, as he feigned to be studying attentively the bloody gauze in one hand, while the other rested on Derek's thigh.

Derek laughed good-heartedly at him.

"What?? You thought you were coming with me? For some stitches? C'mon now pretty boy. They need you more than I do." He retorted convincingly, but in reality he needed him way more than anyone else did in that moment. He just didn't wanna be a burden.

Spencer slightly frowned at the idea that he wasn't even considering him coming with to the hospital as an option. He didn't argue though, letting the conversation fall in a short silence.

"...is anyone around?" Derek asked, lowering his voice.

Spencer squinted his eyes at him, confused. He backed up a little and checked: they were all pretty far away. The rear side of the ambulance, where they were, was facing the other way, so clearly everyone just saw the front of it. He got closer again.

"Uh, no? I think they're all-"

He couldn't finish the sentence because Derek - who perfectly knew no one was around and, even if there was someone, he didn't care - had already pulled him closer by grabbing his arm and pushed his lips against his, all of a sudden. Spencer's waist so thin that his strong arms could've wrapped around it twice.

Spencer was definitely caught off guard - just like most of the times Derek kissed him out of nowhere. One would think he'd got used to it, by that point.

Admittedly, he’d been meaning to kiss him since the second he saw him getting out of the house - which was half an hour before that. He just couldn't bring himself to do it, in front of at least 30 people. But now that he felt like he could, he cupped the back of Derek's neck with his hand, guiding his head as he pleased, in order to draw his mouth deeper into his.

Derek spread his thighs a few inches so that Spencer could come closer - like there was any space left between them.

He stopped all of a sudden, gasping for air, resting his forhead against Spencer's with his eyes still shut; an attempt of closing out whatever other sensation could distract him from relishing a few seconds longer in the sweet taste of Spencer’s mouth, still clinging onto his tongue.

"I wanted to do it as soon as I saw you." Derek broke the silence with his confession, distancing himself a little to look into Spencer's eyes; caramel specks brought out by the sunlight.

"I had the gut feeling you were going to be the first one to look for me when I fired that shot. I knew it was gonna be you." he added, tucking an untamed, brunette curl behind his boyfriend’s ear.

Spencer bit the inside of his cheek, choosing to reply non-verbally by leaning closer and parting his lips again to lay another kiss on his - because, how could he not, after he said those things.

But they heard footsteps approaching.

They quickly got away from each other. Reid's body suddenly remembered how hot it was outside, and that situation surely wasn't helping.

The medic along with Rossi appeared from the side of the ambulance.

"The bleeding stopped...plus, it looks very clean. Good job whoever did it!" she congratulated, after taking a quick look at Morgan's cut. Reid and him exchanged a knowing glance.

"Alright, we can go now, agent Morgan. We still have to stitch it up a little. Sorry if I kept you waiting." she apologized.

Derek kept his eyes on Spencer.

"No problem." he answered briefly, trying to hide a smirk. He actually wanted to thank her for having given them the time to do...that.

While Morgan got inside with the medic and the ambulance left, Rossi stood silently next to Reid, with his hands in his pockets. He had clearly captured all the exchange of looks between the two. And Reid's messy hair, breathing rhythm and rumpled shirt were just a few other clues that they hadn't simply been talking.

"You guys know that we know. Right?" he finally put a halt to the awkward silence.

Spencer’s eyes remained glued to the ground, but widened instantly - as if he shouldn’t have expected such a comment, sooner or later...

"...I- I guess." he answered, not even bothering to make the effort of denying it, aware that it'd be useless. The blush he was trying to contain made him wonder if, maybe, he should've considered that option. Not that he was any good at lying.

Rossi snorted and patted Spencer’s shoulder. "I'm just happy you two have each other. We all are."

Reid finally raised his gaze from the tarmac to look at him with puppy eyes, without saying anything. What was there to say? Morgan and him had both been feeling like it was way more than just friendship since day one, even though they had actually been "dating" only for a year or so. It had to happen, it was clear to everyone on the team BUT them. Talk about being blindly in love.

David left the kid alone with his thoughts, strolling away toward Emily, who - Reid realized just then - had been grinning at them from afar all along, with her arms folded on her chest.

"I'm happy too" Spencer smiled to himself.

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booksandgalore · 5 years

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Mirrors of Pride [Yandere!BTS]

Foreword:

Taehyung’s company is enjoyable when he isn’t contemplating about the different shades of black-and-white filters. Sure, he cares too much about the number of likes he has on social media.

And, yes, maybe you have to reject taking pictures of him everytime he hands you his phone, but true friends stay with each other no matter what. You just need to overlook his growing vanity, and ignore all the warning signs when he starts talking about someone non-existent.

Author’s Note:

It’s my first time posting (cross-posting) a story on Tumblr! Bear with me as I navigate how to link, edit my layout, etc. Though if you do have an tips and/or pointers on how I can make my blog look more appealing, haha, then I’ll take them. Do leave a comment if you enjoyed it!

[previous chapter]

The professor was changing the PowerPoint slides way too quickly, and even though you had been smashing the keys on your laptop as fast as your muscles could allow, you were left with unfinished bullet points on the topics you’d be tested on.

It seemed like your classmates shared the same sentiment as you. Looking at each other, they pursed their lips yet continued scribbling furiously in their notebooks and typing away.

However, Taehyung, who was sitting next to you, merely had his brow raised before he shook his head, his pencil moving ever so slowly.

You glanced over at his notes. He had hardly written anything! The only thing he had going for him was his outfit, you supposed. He wore a black cross earring on his right ear, and he donned this sort of sweatband on his forehead that pushed his hair out of his face. A plaid shirt was also tied around his waist even though he was sporting a jean jacket. The things he did for fashion.

Wait. You weren’t supposed to be that critical to a friend. Did you just insult him? So what if Taehyung preferred to focus on his clothing choices over something the professor lectured about? It was no big deal. For all you knew, Taehyung could be booking private rooms in the library to study in later, or he could be a photographic memory prodigy in disguise.

Gah, you really just insulted your friend, huh? Rolling your eyes at yourself, you reverted your attention back to the professor.

“And that’s all I’ll be discussing about today. Any questions?” Professor Smith said, scanning the room for any raised hands. “No? Well, that’s all, folks. You’ve got ten minutes left if you want to stay in this class, but I’ll get going now. I will post the slides by tonight.”

This was your karma seeking you out. You deserved this.

Yet shamelessly you grabbed Taehyung’s hand in order to stop him from closing his notebook. You released your grip on him when you saw his widened eyes, the dangling of his cross earring occupying your thoughts for a brief second. It suited him. Scooting closer to him nevertheless, you brought your head down to the paper and reviewed what he copied from the slides, but it wasn’t that much and Professor Smith was notorious for uploading his files a week later.

”Why does this class always make me so nervous?” you exclaimed, handing his notebook back to him. “How do you study, hmm?”

”I book a room in the library, but I usually stay late. Do you need help?”

Wow. How could you have undermined Taehyung’s intelligence just minutes before? You needed to work not on suppressing the materialistic tendencies you had left, but on being a good friend. Feeling the guilt creep up on you, you lowered your gaze while rubbing the nape of your neck. Was this why you had five close friends instead of the twenty diverse friends people seemed to have? You should buy Taehyung a surprise lunch during free hour to make it up to him...though he didn’t need to know the why.

”I’ll just wait for him to post the slides.” You had turned your head in such a way where you couldn’t see him through your peripheral vision as you shoved your laptop into your backpack. “Where are you going to be at free hour?” When your shame deemed that you had enough, you were able to face him once more.

”I’ll be at the Bio building,” Taehyung replied, standing up and slinging his backpack over his shoulder. “Just have to turn in this paper and then I’m done. Want to come with me?”

He smiled at you and suddenly your spirits brightened up a little. You would have to buy him those tacos he liked so much.

You returned his smile back at him. “I’ll just meet up with you at the Commons.”

Taehyung’s smile faltered slightly. “You’re not coming with me? Who will you be with?”

You weren’t sure who you’d be hanging out with in the Commons. Maybe you’d see Jimin and sit next to him if there was an empty spot, considering that the Commons was literally a common campus building where students bought and ate lunch, but then again Jimin was usually with Hoseok and that other friend group. You could always move away once Taehyung texted you, though.

“I’ll be with you,” you assured him. Knowing the words that would soothe his mind, you stated, “Who else would I be with, Taehyung? I don’t have that much friends.” You crossed your arms and sighed dramatically for effect, placating Taehyung’s irrational worries. The amount of times you had to do this....but friendship was different with him.

With everyone.

With Jimin even.

People were people, and people had different personalities, thoughts, aspirations, goals and fears, so it wasn’t wrong to act like this with Taehyung...right?

“Okay,” Taehyung winked, his smile retreating back to its fullest potential, “big brother will take care of you.”

“Dude, shut up. I’m older than you by one month!” You stood up and walked to the door; holding it open for him, you said, “Ladies first.”

———

“...Jimin,” you whispered harshly, stupefied. “Is that soju I smell from your water bottle?”

“No, it’s vodka.” Jimin sipped a bit of his alcohol before offering it to you, his hand outstretched and eyes glinting with mischief. He was bold but a reckless type of bold and you were still in disbelief from the randomness of it all. Sure, Jimin could down seven shots of whatever mixture you could give him no matter how strong and still come out sober an hour later, but, damn, did the stress of finals week get to him?

You grabbed his “water bottle” and confiscated it inside your backpack. “You’re not getting this back.”

”(Name), it’s Friday. I only had one class today, and I’m done for the rest of the day. Let me live a little!” he whined, stomping his feet which was unlike him to do so. God. How much of these water bottles did he drink?

“Yes, but not on campus. You’re doing this in broad daylight and you could have gotten expelled, Jimin. Expelled!” You frowned at him and raised the level of your voice to convey the gravity of the situation. “What’s gotten into your head?”

Jimin remained silent. Then, he rested his head on your shoulder. Voice quivering, he confessed, “Eve broke up with me and I...I guess I...I mean I—“

”...Jimin,” you whispered, softly this time. “Come on, we know a girl can’t affect you that much.”

“You’re right.” Jimin removed his head from your shoulder and leaned against the wall. “I think it’s the alcohol, but why...why do I miss her so much?”

It was a miracle you guys were in a secluded area inside the Commons where people didn’t frequent as often. You wondered if on-lookers would simply walk away if they saw someone having a mental breakdown, but you speculated that college students were sympathetic with each other, and thus they would help Jimin. This thought comforted you. Jimin wasn’t alone, but Taehyung? Oh, Taehyung kept an arm’s distance from anyone he didn’t personally know. Would he be willing to receive the warmth of a stranger?

It was funny how despite Jimin’s silent tears rolling down his cheeks, you still thought of Taehyung. Perhaps it was because you knew Jimin could handle the hurt, and perhaps because you had witnessed the depth of hurt that Taehyung couldn’t handle. Likewise, the incessant vibrating of the phone in your pocket only served to remind you who needed you more. It had never stopped buzzing from when you first found Jimin in his depressed state. You couldn’t ignore him much longer.

”I’ll text Hoseok to come and get you,” you said, holding his hand. Jimin placed another hand on top of yours, though his eyes were still transfixed on the wall. You pulled away reluctantly to unlock your phone; you had ten messages from Taehyung, and half of his messages were sent on different apps. Ignoring an incoming call, you told Jimin, “Forget about Eve, okay?”

”Who’s Eve?” Jimin laughed, shoulders shaking with each chuckle. The tears on his face hadn’t stopped. “Eve who? Christmas Eve?”

”On second thought, how about I take you back to your dorm?”

“Will you carry me?”

Sighing, you sent a quick text to Hoseok telling him to come to your location. He had responded fairly fast, telling you that he was already near you guys and would be arriving in two minutes.

“You really risked it all and drank on school grounds for a girl?” You rubbed the temples of your forehead, a slight headache starting to form. “Really?”

Jimin continued staring at the wall. There was no response.

“You know better than that,” you said, hoping that this tough love would get through his head. “You’re better than this.”

He started to cry, and he didn’t stop crying even when your heart softened and you gave him a hug he desperately needed. You kept stroking his hair, rubbing his back, and murmuring sweet cheer-me-ups until Hoseok came and assessed the situation. Hoseok had hugged Jimin, and engulfed you in the process. The three of you were in this position for who knew how long, but Jimin’s tears had stopped flowing at one point, his body settling into quiet hiccups before remaining still.

“You should go, (Name). I’ll take care of him,” Hoseok urged you, voice close to your ear. If it were another scenario, you would have blushed.

You nodded, squeezing both Hoseok and Jimin’s shoulders, before heading away, to the person who needed you more.

But why did it feel like you only touched the surface level of Jimin’s troubles? Was it alright to leave? Should you have stayed? Should you have interrogated Jimin and seen if there was an underlying root cause about his sudden impulsivity to drink? Were you a bad friend?

These questions plagued your mind as you spotted Taehyung near an empty table, which was close to your university’s convenience store.

”What took you so long?” Taehyung asked, lips curved downwards. He ruffled his hair, an agitated sigh escaping his lungs. “I was waiting for you.”

”Sorry I was with Jimin. He was having a rough time.” You pulled your chair closer to him. He looked at you from the corner of his eye before resting his arm on the back of your chair. His brows remained furrowed. You figured out a long time ago that Taehyung liked it when you were next to him whenever he was in a bad mood, and since you left him hanging for thirty minutes, especially when you understood the type of person Taehyung was, he was, undoubtedly, in an unpleasant mood.

“Was it that bad?”

“Yes, it was.”

Taehyung scoffed. You glared at him. Even though he had issues which he told you about, what he did was still rude!

”How can it be that bad? Did he cry?” Crossing his leg, he clicked his tongue. “You should have at least texted me about it.”

You should breathe deeply. Friendships differed from person to person.

Understand Taehyung and where he’s coming from, you thought, because he helped you during times when you needed it the most.

“I’m sorry about that, Taehyung,” you said, looking at him in the eyes so he could feel the sincerity of your words. “I mean it.”

Taehyung’s posture appeared to relax, his tight-lipped frown dissolving. “It’s okay. Did you eat yet?”

”Not yet. Did you?”

”No,” He shook his head, “I didn’t.”

”Well, why don’t we buy some tacos from the food trucks outside Greenhill Hall? It’ll be my treat.” You bumped his shoulder in a lighthearted manner.

As you both headed towards your destination, you couldn’t help but stifle a heavy truth weighing inside your mind. You could think about it later. For now, Taehyung was the focus.

#yandere bts #v #taehyung #yandere taehyung #yandere kpop #bts #bangtan #yandere #bts taehyung #I'm slowly getting the hang of this Tumblr site #pls like and reblog if u enjoyed it bc ;))

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love-loser · 5 years

Text

cocky student tony x professor peter moved here for mobile users

Even though college was a volatile time for many, this whole higher education thing was going pretty well for Peter. Granted, he’s the one teaching the class, but still, pretty good seeing as see he was so young (25) and oh so (very) endearing, both of which helped him get along with his students.

Well, most of his students.

He never knew just how much one person could annoy him but walking into class, seeing that stupid smirk on the younger boy’s smirk, just made his coffee taste that much bitter, the junior never failing to make his day just a bit shitty, somehow.

Even more- he’d always managed to somehow know the material even though Peter was sure he was either sleeping or on his phone half the time. The Engineering professor could probably count on one hand the number of times he’d seen the brunette actually take notes. And it was already halfway into the semester. It hadn’t even caught Tony off guard when he tried to call on the boy.

What he hated the most, though, was the way Tony’s stupid, stupid, intense, dusky eyes always seemed to undress him everytime he walked into the room. The way his hands made his excessively big iPhone look tiny when he wrapped his capable fingers around it and- not to mention those same fingers that rubbed against his lips as he blatantly checked his own professor out, in class, no less. Did kids these days have no manners?

Yes, maybe Peter was exaggerating just a tiny bit–– it’s not like Tony tormented him everyday or openly harassed him, but it’s the principle of it, see. In Peter’s mind, he only has one goal when it comes to Tony Stark, aka (surprisingly) straight A student, aka genius, playboy, billionaire, philanthropist most annoying boy on campus.

And that goal: To put him in his place.

Peter can’t imagine what it’ll be like for the student when he gets to senior year in just half a semester–– in fact, even the very thought of Tony treating any of his teachers this way (or anyone) sends the assistant professor’s matchbox heart into insistent, restless flames.

(He chalks it up to just pure concern for his student.) Not jealousy.

Peter even writes up a list between inputting scantron grades, of why exactly he hates Tony’s guts.

Eloquently, he titles it, ❌ Tony Stark ❌.

1. Taller than me by an inch 1.5 cm.

2. Somehow knows my favourite breakfast from panera bread.

3. Always borrows notes from other people when he’s absent EVEN THOUGH HE KNOWS I HAVE COPIES BY MY DESK!

4. Wears those stupid glasses all the time.

5. Spends an average of 6 minutes after class just cleaning up, making me WAIT

6. Never pays attention in class but always sets the curves on tests.

7. Always flirts with other people outside the hall before class. (distracting!)

On the eighth, Peter’s mind draws a blank. He’d thought that he could go on and on when given the chance, but maybe now isn’t the time- after all, he does only have 2 braincells left after mindlessly typing in scores.

It’s about 5:43 pm now, which probably means he should go after entering this last girl’s score and-

Done. Rarely do other professors ever stay this late, but Peter isn’t really in the mood to stick around and see. He grabs his trusty bullet journal- the one he proudly spent 2 and a half hours on in the beginning on the year, and also the one he just slandered Tony in, which, speaking of the devil- Shitshitshit, avoid him before he annoys you, Pete. It turns out his stiff, minecraft esque speedwalking in the other direction still isn’t enough to deter Tony, who looks up from his phone and calls out a nonchalant, “Hey, Mr. Parker!” Peteralmost scoffs at the sheer level of disrespect in that one line- how dare he? Who does he think he is?! At least, that’s what he sputters mentally.

Physically, the brunet is ready to embrace a thousand year nap.

Peter mentally debates whether or not to stop and give Tony the time of day, his aforementioned 2 brain cells bantering back and forth before, eventually, Tony just decides he will have a conversation with Peter, whether he likes it or not. “Hey, earth to Mister,” Tony says, suddenly in front of his face, dangerously close.

“Hi, Tony. You do know my first name isn’t mister, right? And you should be calling me Professor.” Peter says, voice scolding. “Okay, then, professor,” Tony says, though Peter knows he won’t really listen to him, “What’re you doing so late? Isn’t it past your bedtime? You need sleep to grow taller.” Well- okay, this is getting ridiculous.

“That’s no way you should be talking to your elders, much less your lecturer, Tony,” Peter reprimands, starting to walk again. Hopefully, he’ll be left alone now. Unsurprisingly, and to Peter’s horror, Tony only starts striding backwards easily, as if he’d grown up learning how to walk that way. “But you’re so young. You barely look like my elder, much less a teacher,” Tony’s eyes flicker down, then drag back up, and Peter tries not to flush at this. “That’s not to say you don’t look good, though, the opposite, really.”

Peter only scoffs at this, round eyes rolling in disbelief, a warm tinge to his cheeks to top it all off. He stops abruptly, ego puffing just a bit when Tony stumbles.

“Actually, why don’t we talk about that, Tony?” He stops just to mentally imprint Tony’s somewhat panicked expression, before continuing with an adamant, “I’ve seen the way you act in class- the way you look at me,” which sounds much more scandalous than it should be.

Peter’s voice lowers to a hush, registering that they’re still in a school building, where anyone could be listening. Trust no one, not even yourself.

“It’s not appropriate. I’m not some romantic interest for you to try to indulge in, and I’d much rather you put some of that attention to the lecture’s material instead.”

A moment passes by, then two, and Peter is still staring Tony straight in the eyes, his own hard with determination, brows furrowed.

After a pregnant pause, the student clears his throat.

“Do you wanna be?”

“Excuse me?”

“I mean, yeah, you’re cute professor,” Tony admits shamelessly, “Why don’t you just give me a bit of a chance? I’m not that bad, I’m actually very great.” “That’s exactly what a bad person would say,” Peter points out.

“Let me prove that I’m not, then,” Tony says. Then, his phone dings, “Well, I have to go. But I mean it, mister! Bye,” And with that, Tony bids him goodbye with a wave and a blown kiss.

Peter shudders.

Yuck.

What is not so yuck, though, is the next morning, is when Peter gets in at approximately 8:30 am. There’s a still toasty croissant on his desk, with a orange post it note.

Hope you enjoy this. I was late bc i was picking it up so i just decided to skip for the whole day- TS<3 xoxo

Peter, infuriatingly, knows exactly who wrote the note, and couldn’t resist the urge to roll his eyes. He’d been doing that alot lately. ‘Late picking it up so he just decided to skip the whole day over a croissant, are you kidding me,’ Peter doesn’t bother actually protesting against the innocent pastry, though, instead setting his bag down and taking it out of the pastry bag. He recognises the label- it’s from the campus coffee shop. Tony was late to class picking up food from an establishment on campus.

The kid’s gotta have a demerit, or something, because that might be going just a little too far, even for him. It’s like being late to a party you’re already at, but leave it to Tony Stark to somehow find a way.

Well, that’s too bad. There was suddenly going to be a pop quiz today.

Peter, later, finds that he has to reach deep inside himself to not literally slap the living shit out of Tony’s face when the boy opens the door to his lecture hall as the professor is packing up later that day.

“So you are here,” is what he says instead, eyes narrowed accusingly. He still doesn’t get why Peter doesn’t just come to class if he’s already there- are his lessons really that bad?

“Indeed I am,” is the answer that comes, infuriatingly nonchalant. “Miss me?”

“Never,” He huffs, slinging his bag over his shoulder.

“Did you at least like the breakfast I got you?”

Hell yes. “No. What would be better, Stark, is if you actually attended class while you were on campus.” Then, he adds in without thought, “Especially mine.” There’s a beat of silence, the words not quite sinking in for the professor yet- it’s a different story for Tony, though. “Especially yours?” Tony asks with a grin, and the tone in his voice makes Peter immediately regret whatever he said to induce said piece of shit’s intonation. “Yes. Is there a problem?” One strong brow raises in inquiry.

“Not at all,” Tony’s stupid smile only widens, “The opposite, really.”

#sorry for spam :(

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amnachil · 4 years

Text

The College Society Chapter 3 Part 6

And we continue. So much things are happening ‘-’ I must say put a trigger warning here for one part of the plot. Yes it’s about Nate. And yes it’s sad.

Damian Nicholas Smith-Carrey Wednesday February 6

It was wrong. Illogical. Pure stupidty. It was 1 am. Tomorow, he had lessons to attend. So why the hell was he helping Liam ? Why they were in a hotel in another town ? And it wasn't for sex ! I'm Damian Nicholas Smith-Carrey. The gifted hunter. Feared as a god, venerated like one, desired like one. I shouldn't be here. But everytime he looked at this baboon, this fuckin' dummy freshman, his boyfriend... Everytime he looked at him, he knew his place was right here. It doesn't make any sense. Liam had finally fell asleep. He had been so stressed the whole day ! The blond's lad didn't want to see him like this. I'm not supposed to care. I mean, he's just a prey. But I feel concerned. I guess I just don't want the product to be damaged. Yeah, that's it. Damian Nicholas Smith-Carrey went into the bathroom. He didn't know why; but a feeling prevented him to take advantage of Liam's situation to have sex with him. Instead, I have this urge to help him. Such a pain in my ass. He dialed Nancy's number.

"Sir." she answered quickly. "Why are you calling so late ? You're not putting this awesome dick of yours in someone ?"

"Sadly not. Look, I need help to find someone."

She remained silent for a bit. It's my tone. He had sounded more stressed, more worried than he wanted to. But for real, where the hell this Nate went ? He had just vanished from Earth !

"Gimme all the information you have. I'll see what I can do." she eventually replied.

"You're not asking for payment ?"

"Look Damian Nicholas Smith-Carrey, I know you for a long time now. More than most people. I can tell when it's important for you. And as much as I love see your ass getting rounder, I think it's not necessary this time."

The blond lad froze a moment. Did she mean she felt... weakness ? Damnit, why everything is different when the baboon is here ? Why I can't bang him like all the other prey I chased before ? He reluctantly told her what he knew. Nothing much in fact, because Liam and him never really talked about their respectives lives. They spent most of the time watching movies, walking in the park and obviously, eating.

"I have something you may found interesting." announced Nancy after a while. "It's a video posted by a girl who's friend with another girl named Gwendoline who's friend with Nate Hudson. It show him walking towards the sea heavily drunk."

"When ?"

"One hour ago, approx. He looks very weird in that video..."

"Thanks Nancy. I'll send you a home-made chocolate cake later."

"Hell, you have to. Good luck sir."

Damian Nicholas Smith-Carrey decided to let Liam sleep, and went to the beach. Himself was used to rest only a little. But it's because I'm usually fuckin' one person. Or more. Not because I'm searching my boyfriend's bestfriend. For fuck sake. He was turning completely crazy. It was a descent to hell for the hunter he was. For almost two hours, he ran along the ocean, but found no one. Nonetheless, when the blond lad was ready to give up, he glimpsed him. Finally. When he came closer, what he saw wasn't good. Wasn't good at all. Nate Hudson was a short and a bit tubby lad. He had black short hair, and a childish figure. He looks 15, no more. Liam already seemed young, but his bestfriend... Anyway, it wasn't the problem. Nate had brown eyes, but they were strongly dilated and reddened, probably because of the alcohol, maybe even some drugs. He had vomit all over his body. And what a body... His clothes were torn apart, with some blood. Himself looked hurt, like if someone had scrathed him. He released a putrid smell, a mix between beer, weed, sweat and blood. I saw this before. Damian Nicholas Smith-Carrey came closer.

"Hey bud." he whispered. "Are you awake ?"

Nate grunted. His breath was a real torture. Man it's not good. Drunk, high and with blood all over him ? His trousers were open. As an expert of the question, the Dean's grandson could guess he had ejaculated not that far ago. This is bad. Really bad.

"I'm... Dami. Can you get to your feet ?"

He supposed Liam had only called him "Dami" anyway. The drunk guy grabbed him a bit aggressively.

"Liam can't see me like this." he said with a desesperate but angry tone. "He doesn't need to know."

"Dude, it's not the most important. Come here."

Damian Nicholas Smith-Carrey helped him to stand up. Damn, he's heavier than he looks. And he stinks... It was barely bearable. I don't even know why I'm doing this. Well, he knew. For a baboon called Liam.

"Don't tell him." insisted Nate. "Nothing."

"Okay, okay. Man you need a shower. Come, I'll help you..."

It's not good at all...

When Liam woke up in the late morning, Nate was clean and deeply asleep. Hopefully, he'll just have an hangover and no physical damage. He wasn't hurt that much... Damian Nicholas Smith-Carrey could only imagine what happened during the night... And it wasn't something he liked at all.

"Where did you find him ?" asked his boyfriend once showered and dressed. "And how ?"

Needless to say, he was extremely relieved. He had kissed the blond lad with so much passion this one almost fainted. And I liked it so much. Not good either. I want more, it's a fuckin' disaster.

"Look baboon. All I can say for sure is : he needs you. I think he's waking up. Go talk with him."

The Dean's grandson waited a very long moment. His projects for today were all wrecked. With four hours of journey to do, they wouldn't be back before the evening. I wanted to bang Gabriel at least once... And why not a prey or two... In order to spend the time while his boyfriend talked with Nate, Damian Nicholas Smith-Carrey played with his phone. He masturbated in his ferrari with his tape of his name. And he called some people for phone sex. Eventually, he related the last day to Zack. This one said he was proud of him. I don't know what the fuck he can be proud of ? I mean, I crossed half the country and I don't even know why. Damn, I hate this Liam boy. Stupid boyfriend and his cute face. Anyway, afterwards, Liam came to see him, with Nate right behind him.

"Hey Dami, thank you for being so patient."

"No problem." assured quickly, too quickly to his own opinion, the blond lad. "You guys get everything clear ?"

Nate looked him straight in the eye. I get it. Liam can't know what happened. It wasn't good.

"He had been beaten by some idiots." mumbled the chestnut lad with angriness. "And kicked out of the university for some reason. We need to bring him with us. He'll stay with me."

Damian Nicholas Smith-Carrey hesistated. You want to play it this way ? To lie ? Nate nodded to his silent question. Whatever. It's not my problem right ? I'm not even sure about what happened. I don't care.

"Okay." he said. "Get in the car mates."

Liam Friday February 8

Three day after their little trip across the country, Liam had only one certainty : the forces of evils had struck again. Nate was different, even a half-minded like him could saw that. He was sullen, shifty and distant with everybody except maybe Liam. (They were quite a pair : the absent-minded and the crabby). (Maybe it would make a good title for a movie). At least the unicorns were happy. Nick had agreed to let Nate settle for a while. Thus, Liam bedroom became their bedroom. His bestfriend hadn't much stuff, only some clothes. He had left everything behind, even his car. He had warned his parents, but hadn't given any detail. And now, he was just stayin' there, wandering in the flat. He's playin' videogames, smilin' and all but I know the forces of evil took his joie de vivre. I see it in his eyes. Maybe the unicorns'll be able to help him... To be honest, Liam didn't know what could cheer up Nate. (He had always been the happy one in their relationship). So he just decided to be there. For now, his bestfriend had been maintening he had been assaulted by some bastard after the university had expelled him. He had made himself drunk and had just lost track of time. I know there's more. But I can't force him to tell me, so I'm gonna be patient.

"Dude, earth calling you again." whispered suddenly Nick at his ear.

They were in the mathematics lecture, but Liam had been gawking since the very beginning.

"How's the space today ?" asked his roommate. "Is it attacked by aliens while a magical pony helped you to ride the rainbow ?"

"It would be cool." accepted the chestnut lad. "But the unicorns don't want me to ride rainbow. They said it's dangerous."

"Okay, whatever." replied Nick, astonished to see his joke taken so seriously. "I was asking you, do you know what's Nate's plan ? I mean, I don't care having him around, and he's welcome as long as he wants to, but he seems a bit... odd. Does he expect to just stay in the flat forever ?"

"I don't know." confessed Liam. "Listen, I can't tell you much but I think he needs time. Can you be patient with him ?"

Nick nodded.

"Of course. It's just... I know him for a while, and he acts... different. I'm worried, that's all."

"We all are."

After the classes, Nick and Liam headed towards the pool for the lesson with Theo. It was the third in a row, and the dark-haired lad hadn't made any progress. The only thing Liam noted was how his belly had grew bigger since he was sleeping with the junior. But I guess I can't speak since I gained a bit of weight myself. They were at the pool when the lad glanced Dami.

"I'm going ahead." whispered Nick. "Take your time, I'll be fine with Theo."

Liam thanked him and joined his boyfriend. He had this particular look when something bothered him. His eyes were even scarier than usual.

"Hey Dami. Want somethin' ?"

(There's a secret everyone should know : Liam had decided to play it cool with his boyfriend, but in truth, he was so prude and shy...) (He was doing his best to be Liam the hero in front of Dami, but often, he was just Liam the virgin). (Even if he wasn't virgin).

"Not really." said Dami. "I'm waiting Laura for a little chitchat. How's Nate ?"

"Fine. I guess."

There was a blank. Liam felt a bit guilty about their trip. I asked him to drive me on the other side of the country. He paid the gas, rented the hotel, and it's him who found Nate eventually. (For Liam, it was a real proof of love, even if in the same time, Dami was having sex with other people). But when they were over there, Liam had been pathetic. I did a panic attack and I almost insulted him.

"Stop fuckin' dreamin' like that baboon." demanded his boyfriend, who was blushing.

They ended up both blushing. (It was a natural reaction for the freshman, each times Dami became red, he did too).

"By the way, about Theo." mutterred Dami.

He was blaming him for what happened last week. Liam knew that.

"I think he'll stop whatever he's doing with your roommate. I hope Nick isn't too attached to him ?"

"Not really. He said they were just havin' sex, nothing more. But why would he left him ? Did he find another lover or..."

"It's not that. D.R. gave him an order. Don't try to understand you baboon."

"Okay...By the way I don't like it when you call me baboon."

"Really ? And whatcha gonna do about it baboon ?"

"I want pancake for our next date this monday after my session with the shrink. You can do it ?"

Dami just slapped him gently.

Liam went inside only to find Nick alone. This one looked at him with weariness.

"Theo said he can't continue." he revealed. "Both the sex and the lessons. Apparently, it was becoming too sentimental, and he can't make Laura suffer."

"Oh. I'm sorry about this."

It's exactly as Dami said. His boyfriend was a psychic. So cool. (It was plausible. Once, a clairvoyant had told Liam he would lose money, and then the poor lad had paid him and had lost money !)

"I think it's better this way." he confessed. "Theo is with Laura, he shouldn't have sex with other people."

"Man, I agree. But when we started.... wow. He's good ya know ? For a virgin bisexual like me, it was kind of amazing."

Liam blushed. I don't wanna know. They were about to head the locker room when suddenly, Rebecca showed up with another girl. When she saw them, she smiled.

"There are some other swimmers." she informed her friend. "Liam and Nick. Well, the lattest is not really a swimmer. I guess ? What are you doin' in trunks tubby ?"

The dark-haired lad frowned.

"Somethin'."

"You should swim with us." she continued.

Liam was naturally dull-wited. (Mean people would say retarded). But he could sense the disaster incoming. Nick declined, and Rebecca suddenly burst into laughter.

"I knew that. The truth is, you can't swim, can you ? Are you scared of the water ? But you have such a great life preserver here."

She pinched his lovehandles. Nick was about to do a huge mistake, realised Liam. He wanted to punch the star runner athlete in the face. I need to stop this. He started to imporivse a song. And then, he grabbed his roommate and they ran as far as possible.

Barbara Saturday February 9

They all applauded. It was such a pleasure. Barbara was proudly looking at Summer. My first real victory. It was bound to happen. Yesterday, someone had degraded the football lockers, exactly like the sciences facility before. And she arrested him. Well, the spacegoat she had prepared to. Roberto and her had done a great job. No one could get to the root of this case.

"My grandfather thank you all." declared Damian Nicholas Smith-Carrey. "Most of you are completely retarded but congratulations ! You stopped a dreadful threat."

It was easy to see he didn't care at all. He certainly wanted to bang someone. It's his way to reign... They all respect the hunter he's, and they all want him in bed. Honestly, Barbara was curious. He must be really gifted...

"I can't agree more." added Summer. "Well done team."

She glared at Barbara with anger. Yeah, that's it. You're losing your people. The next queen is here.

When she left the building, the petite girl ran into Oliver, from the football team. The person I wanted to see. Since Theo had failed, she had looked for other allies. Apparently, Liam was now quite a legend among the hunters, because neither Theo or Damian Nicholas Smith-Carrey had succeeded to have sex with him. But the king will, I'm sure of it. He probably acted distant in order to attack later.

"Thank you for the guy you arrested." complimented Oliver. "The team's glad, because he could have damaged some important stuff."

"It's not a problem. That's why I want to be the next head of the student." she smiled.

"Yeah, about that... My boss wants to meet you."

"Your boss ? I thought you were the captain in charge ?"

"Well, technically, I am." he explained. "When it's related to football. But my quarterback is leading the team in the inside and not only on the field. And he's kinda bossy and presumptuous so behave yourself in front of him."

"Okay."

She followed him, a bit perplexed. He must be the hunter. She had understood each club had at least one leader hunter, a guy feared and respected by all. She had thought it was Oliver, but apparently not. In fact, when she entered in the football locker room, she almost wet herself. Footballers were of course impressive, especially when you were a short girl like her. But when she faced around twenty of them... And it wasn't the worst. They had made a special space in the room. They had regrouped all the lockers in a corner, and in the middle, there was a kind of throne. The quaterback was lazily sat onto it, a leg across the armset. Next to him, a poor guy was on his knees with a tray of foods. Another was shaking a fan. This's so stereotipical. But so scary in the same time. The hunter himself was only in briefs, while his teammates were in sportwear. He had a ripped body, pretty hot. She realised he was carbo-loading because they had a game tomorow. His hefty belly was well bloated.

"You must be this Barbara the captain talked about." he said with a smirk. "I'm Archibald Fabian, but you can call me Archie."

What an attitude. His tone, his body language, his smile, everything was exhaling a sexual aura. She could guess he had already fucked every single footballer in the room. Probably all the club member and their coach too. He was a more impressive hunter than all the other she had encountered, except maybe Damian Nicholas Smith-Carrey. But this latter at least looked civilized.

"Nice to meet you." she smiled prudently. "You wanted to see me ?"

"I was getting curious." he answered after he devoured a big spoonful of pasta. "I mean, I'm only a sophomore and I never saw anyone except Summer at the head of the student union."

"You'll be happy to know it won't last." she assured. "All I need is some support from..."

"I don't know girl." he interupted her. "She managed to kick the old president out, and Damian likes her. Now that the bet with Theo is over, the best hunter will be less focused on the hunt and he'll take notice of this little war you're both doing. I gambled for him because I knew he would win. He always does. So I'm gonna wait to see for who he's rooting."

Barbara nodded. So this quarterback's on the king side. Never expected him to be a follower...

"You can go now." Archie continued. "I only wanted to see what kind of girl was ambitious enough to fight Summer. Don't disappoint me please, I'm always up for a good show."

Barbara spent the rest of the day a bit disappointed. She had expected more support after a victory. Ms. Weber had called her, as for Steve Callagan. Both were with her now. But I wanted the football team. Oliver looked convinced, but Archie... She hadn't expected a sophomore to rule the club like this. He was powerful, and dangerous. And this Theo who had lost ! I wonder what he's thinking now ? According to Javier, he had withdraw from the bet. But why ? There are still to many impoderables. All these gray areas prevent me to act fast. But the quarterback had given her an idea. She had to meet the old queen, the one before Summer. Maybe they could plot something together. That was why she went to see Javier at his dormitory. She knocked at his door with energy. The raven-haired lad opened after a while. He was shirtless, and apparently about to sleep.

"Barbara ?" he was surprised. "Whatcha doin' here ?"

She entered without a second thought.

"I need information. I want the name of the previous head of the student ? Who was she ?"

"Sorry. I'm not answering against nothing."

The blonde girl looked at him. He was a typical college student, who had faced the freshman 15, or maybe 20 in his case. Not tall, average face, nothing remarkable. He's a power hunter, like me. But he's too chicken-livered.

"You know what I want." he mumbled. "Please, we did it one time. You enjoyed it right ?"

Absolutely not. But it was the university rule. Sleep to succeed.

"Fine." she conceded. "But first, the name."

"Well, it's Irina Peskov. Rumors say she's the first person who had sex with Damian Nicholas Smith-Carrey when he arrived at the university, three year ago. She had been the head of the student for one year, but then..."

Javier stopped and looked at her. Barbara sighed. He was waiting a move. She slowly took her shirt off.

"Then, she did something bad. I think D.R. and Damian Nicholas Smith-Carrey punished her. She's studying biology now, but she lives out of the campus."

"D.R. ? What's that ?"

"I don't know, I just heard the name. Nothing important I guess, the man just ditched her when Summer started to sleep with him to my opinion."

"Yeah, looks like it."

This Irina would be more than glad to get revenge...

To be continued

Sorry not sorry but yeah sorry. What happened to Nate will play a role in the story, and impact all the characters. This is also the good time to introduce Archibald, who is kind of important.

Liam is lost and confused, Damian is angry and confused, Barbara is evil and a little bit confused. Everyone is confused. Things will get better I swear ! At least for now !

#the college society #cs #Damian Nicholas Smith Carrey #Liam #Barbara #Nate is in trouble #He needs help #And his friends #And a break #At least Liam and Damian are making progress #Barbara is evil part 3 #Chapter 3 #Part 6

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mental-health-advice · 6 years

Note

I don't know who to talk to, but I really need someone to tell me good reasons to not self-harm. Like I know that it's 'wrong' but everytime I do it, I know that it won't impact my physical health and that it's really easy to hide from others. And it's just too simple to convince myself that it's a fine reason to let off steam. At the moment it's nothing more then a few scratches, but I'm afraid it will escalate if I get into an emotional situation.

Hey there,

First off all thank youso much for reaching out to us! That would not have been easy to do at all sogood for you and well done!

Self-harm can be reallytricky to understand at times because people do it for a number of differentreasons and in a number of different ways. It’s so important that you knowthough that just because someone scratches instead of cut, it doesn’t mean thatthe person that scratches isn’t hurting just as bad. Does that make sense?

With that being saidthough I completely get and understand your fear about the self-harm gettingworse. You are being so insightful though which is really good because it meanswe can help put things into place with you to help you and maybe even stop theself-harm from escalating and getting worse.

I’m not sure if you havelooked at some of the pages on our site as yet but I think that some of themcould really help you and especially with wanting to go over some reasons whyyou shouldn’t self-harm.

These pages are:

Reasons not to self-harm

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Distractions

After reading the pageon reasons not to self-harm, maybe you could even add to the list with your ownideas/ reasons why ‘you’ shouldn’t self-harm. I know it won’t be easy to dothat but if you’re able to personalise it and make it more your own then youwill have a much higher chance of really wanting to commit to those reasons notto self-harm. Do you think you could give that a go?

Another idea may be towrite out the list on reasons not to self-harm and put it up somewhere you willsee them. You could even write each reason down on post it notes and put themup around your room or another place where you can see them regularly!

In regards to thealternatives to self-harm and distractions, these can be really helpful to usewhen you are really needing something to do to help you through the self-harmurges. Feel free to also add to those lists and ideas and please also know thatif you need you can always contact a counsellor from either a helpline or onweb counselling too.

Stay strong andbeautiful and keep fighting because you are stronger than you think and I knowthat you can get through this stuff! I believe in you!

I really hope you aregoing OK and please know that I am thinking of you!

Take care,

Lauren

#mha-lauren #advice #advice blog #mental health advice #anonymous #self-harm

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love-loser · 5 years

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16 or 2 👀 or maybe 16 AND 2? Like younger brat tony who’s breadwinner to his exasperated older hubby,,

16. professor peter x cocky student tony

SORRY OMG THIS IS SO LONG jkhddh thank you for the ask! i didnt know how to combine 2 and 16 so i just wrote 16, but someone else asked for 2 so fear not, you will be getting it. hope you enjoy

prompts here

MOBILE USERS READ HERE PLS!!

Well, most of his students.

And that goal: To put him in his place.

(He chalks it up to just pure concern for his student.)Not jealousy.

Peter even writes up a list between inputting scantron grades, of why exactly he hates Tony’s guts.

Eloquently, he titles it, ❌ Tony Stark ❌.

1. Taller than me by an inch 1.5 cm.

2. Somehow knows my favourite breakfast from panera bread.

3. Always borrows notes from other people when he’s absent EVEN THOUGH HE KNOWS I HAVE COPIES BY MY DESK!

4. Wears those stupid glasses all the time.

5. Spends an average of 6 minutes after class just cleaning up, making me WAIT

6. Never pays attention in class but always sets the curves on tests.

7. Always flirts with other people outside the hall before class. (distracting!)

It’s about 5:43 pm now, which probably means he should go after entering this last girl’s score and-

Done. Rarely do other professors ever stay this late, but Peter isn’t really in the mood to stick around and see. He grabs his trusty bullet journal- the one he proudly spent 2 and a half hours on in the beginning on the year, and also the one he just slandered Tony in, which, speaking of the devil-Shitshitshit, avoid him before he annoys you, Pete. It turns out his stiff, minecraft esque speedwalking in the other direction still isn’t enough to deter Tony, who looks up from his phone and calls out a nonchalant, “Hey, Mr. Parker!” Peteralmost scoffs at the sheer level of disrespect in that one line- how dare he? Who does he think he is?! At least, that’s what he sputters mentally.

Physically, the brunet is ready to embrace a thousand year nap.

“That’s no way you should be talking to your elders, much less your lecturer, Tony,” Peter reprimands, starting to walk again. Hopefully, he’ll be left alone now.Unsurprisingly, and to Peter’s horror, Tony only starts striding backwards easily, as if he’d grown up learning how to walk that way. “But you’re so young. You barely look like my elder, much less a teacher,” Tony’s eyes flicker down, then drag back up, and Peter tries not to flush at this. “That’s not to say you don’t look good, though, the opposite, really.”

Peter only scoffs at this, round eyes rolling in disbelief, a warm tinge to his cheeks to top it all off. He stops abruptly, ego puffing just a bit when Tony stumbles.

Peter’s voice lowers to a hush, registering that they’re still in a school building, where anyone could be listening. Trust no one, not even yourself.

“It’s not appropriate. I’m not some romantic interest for you to try to indulge in, and I’d much rather you put some of that attention to the lecture’s material instead.”

A moment passes by, then two, and Peter is still staring Tony straight in the eyes, his own hard with determination, brows furrowed.

After a pregnant pause, the student clears his throat.

“Do you wanna be?”

“Excuse me?”

“I mean, yeah, you’re cute professor,” Tony admits shamelessly, “Why don’t you just give me a bit of a chance? I’m not that bad, I’m actually very great.”“That’s exactly what a bad person would say,” Peter points out.

“Let me prove that I’m not, then,” Tony says. Then, his phone dings, “Well, I have to go. But I mean it, mister! Bye,” And with that, Tony bids him goodbye with a wave and a blown kiss.

Peter shudders.

Yuck.

What is not so yuck, though, is the next morning, is when Peter gets in at approximately 8:30 am. There’s a still toasty croissant on his desk, with a orange post it note.

Hope you enjoy this. I was late bc i was picking it up so i just decided to skip for the whole day- TS

Peter, infuriatingly, knows exactly who wrote the note, and couldn’t resist the urge to roll his eyes. He’d been doing that alot lately.‘Late picking it up so he just decided to skip the whole day over a croissant, are you kidding me,’ Peter doesn’t bother actually protesting against the innocent pastry, though, instead setting his bag down and taking it out of the pastry bag. He recognises the label- it’s from the campus coffee shop. Tony was late to class picking up food from an establishment on campus.

Well, that’s too bad. There was suddenly going to be a pop quiz today.

“So you are here,” is what he says instead, eyes narrowed accusingly. He still doesn’t get why Peter doesn’t just come to class if he’s already there- are his lessons really that bad?

“Indeed I am,” is the answer that comes, infuriatingly nonchalant. “Miss me?”

“Never,” He huffs, slinging his bag over his shoulder.

“Did you at least like the breakfast I got you?”

Hell yes.“No. What would be better, Stark, is if you actually attended class while you were on campus.” Then, he adds in without thought, “Especially mine.”There’s a beat of silence, the words not quite sinking in for the professor yet- it’s a different story for Tony, though. “Especially yours?” Tony asks with a grin, and the tone in his voice makes Peter immediately regret whatever he said to induce said piece of shit’s intonation.“Yes. Is there a problem?” One strong brow raises in inquiry.

“Not at all,” Tony’s stupid smile only widens, “The opposite, really.”

#starker #my writing #ask #anon

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