#My fucking history teacher put my grade down from an A to a D because i didnt do ONE minor assignment ...... OKAY GIRL IM GONNA KMS IN

[intothecometverse]

in honor of february ending, here's what i manifested this month!

🐬 this one time i was practicing a bit later than usual and i was like FUCK ION WANNA EAT DINNER AND THEN GO TO ORCHESTRA REHEARSAL WITHIN HALF AN HOUR THAT'S NOT ENOUGH TIME and then i got an email for the rehearsal schedule and i got at least half an hour more than usual until i had to come. funny enough i was thinking to myself like plz don't make me come until later plz plz plz plz plz plz and then i got the email for the rehearsal schedule so yippe

🐬 going on to that i had to fucking take a shit and ended up arriving to the rehearsal room ON THE DOT (which is late for orchestra standards 💔) but luckily there were still ppl waiting outside while the conductor was dealing with the basses and cellos only (which was the reason why ppl who weren't basses and cellows didn't have to come until half an hour later) so i wasn't late woo! and on my walk there (i was speed walking lol) i was affirming to myself i'm not gonna be late im not gonna be late there are still gon' be ppl waiting outside then boom that happened??? like im god hello??

🐬 having dinner + getting to go on a mini walk with my goth sp (i asked them and they said yes)

🐬 also manifesting conversations with my goth sp just by thinking about experiencing it seconds beforehand

🐬 oh ja and i also manifested being released early from orchestra rehearsals thru just thinking abt it seconds before too 😭😭

🐬 manifested seeing another sp during my regular day activities (their dorm room is around the corner from mine so we see each other a lot xD) like whenever i think abt them boom they pop up 😭. manifesting interactions next 𓆩♡𓆪

🐬 (me personally i think this was my most putting-my-foot-down manifesting moment) i overate one time and felt like throwing up, like i was feeling ALL the symptoms i usually do before i throw up so i was like "I'm not gonna throw up im not gonna throw up, remember who's in control. I AM in control, nothing else! the 3d will conform, because i said so, IT'S GOING TO CONFORM, NOW" and then i felt fine, just like that :D

🐬 not needing to get out of bed and take a piss one night when i was rly tired (affirmed "i don't need to piss" until i fell asleep 😭)

🐬 my room being opened one night when i got locked out at like 1/2 am

🐬 my grade in jazz history being raised from a D to a B- (and hopefully an A by the end of the quarter)

🐬 also i have all As in all my other classes

🐬 getting to have a fun hangout before February ended lol

🐬 having friends my age who live in dorms near me xD

🐬 my eczema getting healed without special ointment or anything

🐬 birf control (technically manifested it way back in December bc that was when i got a confirmed appointment but wtv. i got the implant this month so xD)

🐬 clearer skin

🐬 i have super long hair and the ends didn't dry out (technically this is like a continuous manifestation but i just wanted to mention it. basically I've been affirming "the ends of my hair is immune to split ends and drying out as it gets longer" and it worked!)

🐬 being better at trumpet :D (i told my trumpet teacher how much i practiced during one lesson, and continued to play during our lesson even when i surpassed my usual amount of time playing during an average day and he said I've gotten stronger due to playing for so long yet still sounding relatively fresh. and recently I've kept playing for longer amounts of time during the day and I've still been fine so yippe

what i'm looking for manifesting-wise in march:

🦞 shifting lmao

🦞 being successful in my job

🦞 being successful in all areas of life actually

🦞 getting to hang out with both sps + them getting along as friends so we could be a whole trio :3

🦞 my sps texting me first along with me texting them first (like yk how they say it should be like a 50/50 thing with who starts the convos and shit)

🦞 supernatural shit like powers, wings, horns, and like those king sombra kinda smoky eyes

🦞 WORLD. PEACE.

hope this inspired you, and remember, anything is possible, and u are loved!

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

[ruinikaidoexplodedbadly]

my grades this semester other than my art mark are so fucking abysmal and awful and horrible and like actually so shitty im so embarrassed and my moms going to fucking murder me when she gets my report card im gonna kms

[pyroclastic727]

Owl House said fuck capitalism

So this episode was interesting. Lilith pretty much killed her sister. Why the fuck would she do that?

Even more interesting: why is Belos like that? How did Hooty put his head through one of those guards? Who the fuck is the Titan, and why does everyone like him? And how are these all tied together?

This episode was a metaphor for capitalism

...and another delicious step towards radicalizing the youth into dismantling this fucked-up neo-feudal system.

We’ll start with Belos. 

Emperor Belos is a weird name, don’t you think? We all thought it was spelled “Bellows,” but it wasn’t. In fact, it’s five letters, starts with Be, ends with os, and describes a megalomaniac emperor that restricts people’s freedom in order to accumulate wealth for himself.

Sound familiar?

Emperor Bezos Belos created capitalism. He saw the beauty of magic and decided to make himself the most powerful.

Belos created a system that destroys the masses and boosts his power.

 I’m dipping into fan theory a little, because the fan theory fits. We know that people get branded with coven magic that makes it so they can only specialize in one area. We know that Belos is the most powerful witch in the Boiling Isles. We know that the excess magic, magic created by restrictions, has to go somewhere.

It’s the same system that many viewers see all the time. A job takes up all your day and tires you for the night, so you can only do one skill for the rest of your life. Jeff Bezos is the most powerful man in the United States. Excess money, money taken by restrictions, has to go somewhere.

The magic goes to Belos, like how the money goes to Bezos. Belos created capitalism, and he won it.

The guards aren’t real. 

Look, we’ve never seen their faces. They’re all the same. Why would you work so hard to get to the top, just to become a nameless, faceless killing machine?

Oh, also Hooty stuck his face through one. There is nothing under the armor.

Why? Well, it’s the same reason you see all those celebrities going around flaunting their wealth and bragging about how hard they worked. Like all those songs about how they grind every day and work harder than everyone else while you’re out clubbing, and that makes them dope. And then you take a closer look at them and see that they had a small loan of a million dollars fueling them, or an entire talent agency behind them, or their dad was a famous country star in the 80′s. 

They’re fake. They’re hollow. They’re a ploy created by the capitalist emperor to try to delude you into working harder. 

Let me put this into perspective. I guarantee that every single one of you has heard stuff like this: “Hard work makes you successful.” “I put in the work, and that’s why I’m successful.” “If you work hard enough, then you can be as successful as Mark Zuckerberg.” 

And unless you’re a robot or really lucky, I’m sure all of you have failed at this. Maybe they told you that hard work would make you good at math, so you spent 22 hours a week working on calculus, only to pass it by 3 percentage points and have it destroy your perfect 4.0 GPA. Maybe they told you that if you talked to people enough, then you would make friends, so you spent a lot of time talking to people, only to end up lonely and friendless. Maybe they told you that if you did well in school, you would get a good job, so you spent all your time working hard to be a good student, and then ended up in a soulless, dead-end job.

The guards are there to delude you. Look, who really gains from you being productive? The answer is the ruling class, the CEOs, the government, the bourgeoisie. It has always been that. All you get from working is a paycheck that lets you survive. They get a paycheck that lets them get rich. Just like Belos gets the magic and productivity of the specialized coven witches.

The guards are there to trick you. The truth is that nobody can join the Emperor’s Coven. It’s just there to make you think that hard work will make you successful. Then you spend your entire life working hard, trying to prove to the person in charge that you’re worthwhile. You give your whole life to the Coven, and they give you nothing. 

Magic is supposed to be something you pursue for fun. Being skilled at things, being good at something beautiful...that’s supposed to be something you do because you want to. But they took that and made it into a source of productivity. It doesn’t matter if you make good content. All people fucking care about is if you upload the day of premiere, if you make a lot of content quickly, if you maintain a million different conversations with strangers who expect you to be the most interesting person in the room. They don’t care how it hurts you. They don’t care how you crack from the stress. How you cry when you think no one can see you, and then you check your phone and someone can see you, someone did see you, and you have to put on your face and be the charming, magnetic person they want you to be. (oh by the way that’s why I wasn’t online much last week)

And it ruins it. Suddenly you can’t watch The Owl House without being stressed. You can’t make any content. You can’t make spells as powerfully as you want to. Your passion is replaced by perfectionism and insecurity, a voice telling you to keep being the best at what you do, or else they’ll forget you and let you die.

There’s also the Titan. 

So nobody has mentioned him before, because in addition to the Boiling Isles being a hellscape full of witchcraft and queerness, it’s also full of atheists. 

But suddenly we have people saying all this shit about him? Shit like, he gave witches the gift of magic, and then they learned to use it in a civilized manner, since being uncivilized was disrespectful?

I mean, first off, that’s fucking wrong. The island gives people magic. The island, which just so happened to be shaped like a titan-sized human. But the island/titan gives everyone all types of magic. Hell, even Luz gets to use magic, and she’s human. 

It sounds really fucking familiar. (tw for discussion of homophobia and colonialism and misogyny). It sounds like when the news is on and they show some Tr*mp supporter talking about how fetuses have more rights than people and it is their holy duty to take away a woman’s control over her body and force her through unbearable pain and into an 18-year commitment she didn’t want to make. It sounds like all the times people tried to say homosexuality should be illegal, citing a single line in a book written two thousand years ago and heavily edited by a European king. It sounds like all the times people said God wanted them to conquer, to own the entire earth, to force the other races into pain to support them.

This is that bullshit thing people do where they commit awful sins and justify it by citing the will of God. 

Or, it’s the Coven using religion as an excuse for evil.

Look, the Emperor’s Coven is clearly colonizer-coded. Saying that people’s original form of magic was wild (and showing a picture with the same joyous, rowdy energy of an 18th or 19th -century Black or indigenous party), and that it was God’s will for them to be “civilized?” Sounds like that thing that powerful white people did where they went and murdered people and forced them into their twisted capitalist system. God, gold, and glory, is what they said, because history books just love to omit the gore.

Lilith is passing the abuse cycle along. 

You know, like a good little colonizer. God I fucking hate her. She’s a MILF, in the sense that she’s a Mother I’d Like to Fling off a cliff. 

Ah, enough screaming about how much I want to drown Lilith in a tub of Hooty’s mucus. Let’s go into why I want to do that, and how she took the evils of capitalism and just...adopted those.

So, Lilith is sick and twisted for what she did to her sister. But, uhh, that’s the point. You see, there are so many other people out there like Lilith who would do the exact same thing, if given the chance. These are the people who do mean things when the teacher isn’t looking, and then act nice and try to frame you. These are the people who will hate you if you’re better than them. These are people who would do anything to bring you down, if you dare outperform them.

It’s greed, my friends. The mental illness that capitalism blesses us all with.

Lilith herself said it: she dedicated her entire life to the Coven. What she wanted was to be the best. And she almost was...except for her own sister. Someone who lived with her, annoyed her at home, bested her at school. Someone she could never beat, no matter how hard she worked. And her sister was younger than her, too! How insulting was that? Lilith wanted to be the best, and someone in her exact situation did better than her.

Lilith was insecure. And it consumed her.

But why? Why does insecurity consume her? I mean, no one can be motivated by insecurity forever. Well, not unless someone conditions it into you.

The lovely thing about the capitalist system is the morals it teaches you. Things like: “You’re only useful if you’re the best.” “Being school smart makes you smart, while being social smart or sports smart or creative smart or fandom smart is worthless.” “Your worth can be quantified by numbers and is based off arbitrary measures like your income or your grades.” Things that can and will drive us crazy if we let ourselves believe them.

And it did drive Lilith crazy. She got so twisted by a society that said being good at magic is her only worth. Look, Lilith used to be good at things, probably. She was good at sports. At times, she slips up and does an okay job of being Eda’s sister. She has a powerful presence when she’s in a room. And she’s wicked good at manipulating people. 

But that didn’t matter. Lilith bought into the lies. She let herself believe that magical skill was the only way to measure her worth. And since she needed to be the best, she hurt Eda for it.

The beautiful thing is, Eda didn’t buy that. "It’s my power, kid. And before you showed up, I spent my whole life wasting it.” Is what Eda said, as she used up the last of her power, the last of her life, to save Luz. In her final moments, she proved that she’s not like them. She’s stronger than them.

None of this matters. Not magical prowess. Not the hierarchy. Not the promise of joining the Coven and having more power than anyone else.

The only thing that matters to Eda is her family. Her real family. Her Luz, King, and Hooty. And by extension, Willow, Gus, and Amity. Those are Eda’s real reason for fighting, for dying: to protect them. Look, there’s no way she would’ve come out of that fight alive. She has a family, and her love for them is stronger than greed or jealousy or capitalism. 

Lilith never understood that. She thought the water of the womb was thicker than the blood of the covenant. Or, that the water of the womb and the blood of the covenant are stronger than the bonds of found family. She thought it didn’t matter if Eda loved, her, only if the Emperor loved her. Fucking bitch.

And now, a little something to worry about, before we go. Amity Blight. The girl who wanted to join the Emperor’s Coven more than anything, who dedicated her whole life to doing well in school, to being the best, to being perfect.

And then she met Luz. She fell for Luz. Now she’s in a tricky place, where habit and conditioning want her to join the Emperor’s Coven, but her heart wants her to do the impossible and destroy capitalism.

She wasn’t in this episode. Funny that being injured and unable to work ended up saving her from watching her future mother-in-law die. So she bought some time.

But Luz’s true mom is dead. This is the second mom she has lost, and she’s only fourteen. As powerful as King and Hooty are, Luz needs Amity. Luz needs Amity to support her and help her get back her mom.

So Amity has to make a choice. Fear and insecurity, or love and a high chance of death? 

She’ll probably choose death. Because that’s the message that this family-friendly show is giving us kids. Fuck capitalism. All you need in life is to do what makes you happy and be with the ones you love.

[realcube]

rq; could you possibly write a one shot about the reader having AD(H)D and has a really hard time focusing on core academics (math, science, english, history) because they feel scared about stimming and/or fidgeting in front of people and so they ask tamaki for help?

tw; very mild angst, fluff, stimming, i use the word ‘embrassing’ too much, swearing

words; 2.7k

it only took a moment of skimming over your latest progress report for you to understand the situation.

you continued to thrive in practical subjects like physical education, graphic design and manufacturing — the three main reasons you managed to secure your spot in the support course — but your core subjects seemed to be lacking.

for the last two years, you managed to score flying colours in all your subjects. but now, it was starting to appear as though your golden era was coming to a close. what was once a report with only scores greater than 90%, was now a range of totals anywhere from 90 to 50%.

this meant you were still passing all of your classes but these grades were only indications of how you were doing now; you knew that if you continued to struggle in all of your core courses, you might not finish your third year of UA highschool.

you simply wouldn't allow for your grades to decline further, so like any good student would, you made a list of ways you could improve.

number one was, of course, study more. however, you were almost certain that discipline and diligence aren't the causes of the issue.

number two was to ask for help from your teacher and although this was a completely valid option, you still felt like the problem ran deeper than your ability to comprehend the material. after all, you had made it this far without having to do so.

before you could even ponder number three, your pen ran out of ink. with a huff, you reach out to grab a new one from your pencil case, until you noticed that in the spot where your pencil case usually sits on your desk, there was nothing.

it was as though the void had caused all your memories of yesterday to come crashing down on you in an instant; it was almost nauseating. yet it, ironically, provided some clarity as to the location of your stationary.

two days ago, after school, you paid a visit to tamaki's house to deliver the gear he had commissioned. however, what was initially meant to be a casual interaction, somehow turned into a game of pictionary (with mirio and nejire there too, of course), for which you needed to bring your pencil case out of your bag. amidst your awkward goodbyes, you must've forgotten to put it back into your bag, hence your pencil case is probably lying dejected on tamaki's coffee table.

this left you with no choice but to throw on your jacket and begin your journey to tamaki's house. fortunately, he only lived a bus ride away from your home, yet you still mentally rebuked yourself for the whole length of aforementioned bus ride due to the fact that every time you would interact with tamaki, it felt like you were digging a deeper grave for yourself.

partially because you always found yourself oversharing with him — not that it was a one-sided ordeal — and you couldn't begin to explain why; he kinda just had a comforting aura about him. albeit you haven’t said anything embarrassing yet but the possibility of that happening was way too large. plus taking into consideration your complicated feelings for each other, leaving your pencil case at his house was a disaster waiting to occur.

or perhaps you were overthinking it. either way, you were now standing in front of his door with your school uniform and backpack on during a saturday afternoon because you had no idea what else to wear.

after ringing the doorbell, you stood as a patient statue in the cold until tamaki reluctantly opened the door and only poked his head out. “hello?”

emphasis on ‘only’, because he was truly committed to not allowing you to see him in his casual-wear, for some reason. a part of him reasoned that there was no way you would expect him to be wearing his school uniform on a saturday, but the majority of his brain was screaming about how he had to hide his clothes from you at all costs. especially since he was wearing socks, comfy trackpants and — most shamefully — a sweater with a small octopus design on it. and what would you think of him if you saw that his choice in loungewear was so childish?! it would be utterly humiliating.

completely unaware that tamaki was having a crisis behind the door, you pulled your most authentic smile and said the line you had been rehearing on the bus, “hi, tamaki. sorry for coming unannounced, but i think i left my pencil case on your coffee table when we were playing pictionary with mirio and nejire.”

“oh.” tamaki was almost too panicked to process what you just said but once he did, he immediately recalled the moment he noticed that you had left behind your pencil case. at the time, he planned on calling you to ask if he could drop it off at your house, but his nerves got the better of him and he decided to keep procrastinating the call until he completely forgot.

though, if he remembered correctly, the pencil case should be lying on his desk after he moved it there in hopes that the convenient location would remind him to return it; which it evidently did not.

“yeah. uh, i’ve got it. i’ll just go get it.” his face tingled with warmth slightly as he retracted it from the doorway, resulting in him finally realising how cold it is outside. in fact, since the eaves of his house shielded you for the climate, he didn’t even notice that it was snowing!

the polite bone in him got to work before the rest of him could react, as he blurted out, “come in, make yourself at home.”

fuck! i mean, it’s not that he doesn’t want you in his house — quite the opposite actually — but rather now he had to dart off to his bedroom before you could catch a glimpse of his sweater. but at least now this gave him an opportunity to change into something less embarrassing.

closing the door behind you, you were now left alone in tamaki’s living room. your eyes followed his figure as he dashed towards his bedroom, “odd.” you murmured to yourself. you weren’t exactly tamaki’s BFF but you were close enough to him that you could tell when he was acting weird.

but you didn’t think to much of it. actually, you were slightly grateful for this weird spike in tamaki’s behaviour because if he doesn’t want you around, that just means you are less likely to overshare and catch feelings, which means better outcomes in the long run, right?

after changing into a plain blue sweater and collecting your pencil case, tamaki strolled into the living room and handed it to you with a weak smile, “here you go.” he almost whispered, patiently waiting for your response so he could mentally prepare himself for goodbyes or another hour (or so) of conversation.

“thank you!” you basically squealed, pulling off your bag to stuff your pencil case back inside. while adjusting the straps on your shoulders, you took a moment to appreciate tamaki’s familiar attire, “oh, i love your sweater; i have a similar one with a cute little octopus on it.”

tamaki concluded that neither of you would be saying goodbye for a long while.

“thank you.” he responded with a soft smile, folding his arms over his chest as he made his way towards the kitchen, “um, so how are you?” he inquired, assuming that it was a pretty harmless question that would simply help get the conversation off the ground while he prepared tea.

“i’m good. but i don’t think i can say the same for my progress report.” you said with an awkward chuckle, standing aside as you watched tamaki put the kettle on. “and how are y--”

“what do you mean?” tamaki asked, disregarding the fact that he didn’t answer the question himself. although, simply put, this was because he found that conversation came more naturally to him when he was with you; or perhaps that is a slight overstatement. he tended to be more curious and inquisitive when talking to you and it wasn’t hard to tell.

until now you and mirio simply brushed it off as tamaki’s interest towards the support course, since you were the one who manufactured most of his gear. yet nejire always teased him as she believed that tamaki’s interest was caused by a different sort of passion.

nevertheless, regardless of tamaki’s motives, you still found yourself consistently answering his questions, “eh, well, i’ve just not been performing as well as i hoped.” you replied plainly with a shrug.

“is that all?”

no matter how many questions he asked, each one still managed to catch you off-guard. “um,” your throat ran dry, which might’ve been a sign from a deity to stop talking, but your swallowing was your way of proving that you did not care. although you will probably regret it later, talking with tamaki always relieved you.

“well,” you started, the lump in your throat growing by the second, “i guess i have a bit of trouble focussing in some classes too. but i mean, maybe it is because i drink too much caffeine? i’m not even sure to be honest.” that was lie, you were  90% sure of what the problem was, but you wanted to hear tamaki’s response before you proceeded, to determine whether he’d be open-minded about it.

“there is no such thing as too much caffeine.” he joked, handing you a cup of tea while he sipped on his own. “so it’s probably something else.”

he’s too good. it’s as if he knew you were withholding information.

“well,” you began once more, trying your best to appear clueless, “i guess moving helps me focus, but no once else in the class does it so wouldn’t it be embarrassing if i was the only one?”

“i don’t think it would be embarrassing at all.” he spoke softly, leading you back into the living room and offer you a seat on the couch beside him, which you graciously accepted. “but if you think it is, then i have something to help.”

before you could say anything, tamaki got up and headed towards his bedroom; leaving you to drink his heavenly tea while he searched. though, only a few minutes passed before you felt his arms slither over your shoulders to hook two clips together by your neck.

“there.” he said with a proud smile, “this is one of my cloaks that i use in my hero costume. you can tie it together so it covers the whole front half of your body.”

observing your reflection in the blackened TV, you smiled upon seeing for your own eyes that everything he said was true. it was like wearing a cape that goes around your whole body, and it had a nice hood! “wow, this is so adorable!” you cheered, then paused, “but how is it going to help me focus?”

“well, you can do whatever you want underneath it and no one will notice.”

ignoring the shady implications of that sentence, you moved your hand around underneath the cloak and he was right! no one would see you fidgeting underneath the cloak, and hopefully the professor’s voice would cover any sounds you made. plus, it looked pretty badass.

“this might work! are cloaks included in dress-code?” you joked, but you weren’t laughing for long as you turned to look at tamaki who was wearing an upset expression with his head hung low, “no.”

“oh.” you sighed, unclipping the cloak and handing it back to tamaki with a slight smile, “it’s fine. thank you for your help, and the tea. it was delicious, but i’ll probably have to start cutting back on the caffeine.” you gave it a chef’s kiss yet he didn’t even chuckle like he usually does. it was almost scary how your true emotions reflected onto him, as it seemed like the whole atmosphere had changed.

“(y/n).” tamaki uttered with a much more serious tone; eyes filled with determination yet trained onto the cloak in his hands. “you shouldn’t be embarrassed-- or at least, I, um, don’t think you should be.”

your eyes widened at how sternly he said the first part; granted, he became flustered when it came to the second part, but it really showed you how firmly he stood by what he was saying. you nodded for him to continue as he looked like he still had a lot on his mind.

“it’s unfair that you have trouble focussing because of what other people think. so my two cents is that you should do whatever you need to do, and, um, not care about other people... well, i mean, you should care about them, but just not what they think about you. because like, you can’t really control that--”

he found himself having to abruptly shut his mouth to stop himself from prattling on any further. especially since most of what he was saying was probably none sense that he mistook for inspirational, or at least that is what he gathered from the shocked look you wore; it was ironic how humiliated he was.

“that’s nice to hear.” you hummed, a kind smile gracing your features in place of the previous stunned expression, “though it’s hard to believe coming from someone as cool as you, tamaki.”

“cool?”

“yeah.” you chuckled, rolling your eyes at his baffled look which he must have been faking. surely he knows how highly thought of and respected he is throughout the whole school. he is in the big three, for fucks’ sake! “there is probably a better word to describe it, but you are one of the most badass people i know.”

“badass?” it was as if all he was capable of doing was repeating these words to you with an innocent yet confused gaze.

“yes!” you enthused, “so, is there anything you even have to be embarrassed about?”

“i do!” he almost whined, and without thinking, he stormed to his bedroom only to grab the sweater he cast aside earlier to show it to you, “look! an octopus sweater, isn’t this embarrassing?”

you deadpanned, unsure as to whether he was joking or not. “stimming is very different from a octopus sweater but go on.” however after a few moments of actually analysing the design on the article of clothing, you exclaimed, “oi, i have that exact same sweater! how is a cute little octopus embarrassing? plus, it would be extra cute on you because you have tentacles.”

in a moment of frustration and wanting to prove a point, he threw the sweater aside and began to sheepishly grab at the ends of his sleeves, “well, you know what’s even more embarrassing? having a crush on someone for three whole years and not having the balls to ask them out! and on top of that, being to nervous to return my crush’s stuff after you left it at my house.”

you weren’t sure if he meant to switch out ‘my crush’ with ‘you’ on purpose or if he was just confused. either way, you found yourself leaning in to wrap the poor boy in an overdue embrace, smiling against his chest as he hugged back. “that was..” you faltered, allowing tamaki to interject with “mortifying” but you were quick to correct him, “i think that was a very unique way to confess, and i'm just glad you did.”

your chuckle that followed was left to echo around the room as tamaki stood still and silent, simply enjoying the comfort in your arms as feeling the pleasure of time escape him. until eventually he whispered close to your ear, “so since i know more about embarrassment than you thought, will you take my advice now?”

you snickered, gently tracing shapes onto his back, “i was going to take your advice either way because if i don’t get good grades and remain in the support course, how will i graduate with you?”

“good point.” he hummed, not-so silently enjoying the relaxing sensations near his spine, “but we are not wearing matching octopus hats.”

how did manage to shoot down your idea before you even proposed it?

[effervescentslut]

how you meet | edward cullen

A/N: wowowow after being on Tumblr for 6+ years I would have NEVER imagined my first published writing to this site being Twilight dnvjdfjaskdlmfkl enjoy!! requests are open :)) I will write for Twilight (mainly the Olympic Coven, except Jasper romantically), Star Wars, and Harry Potter

Pairing: Edward Cullen x Fem!Reader

Category: Fluff

Content Warnings: Reader gets unsolicited attention from teenage boys, swear words

when you moved to forks after spring break because of your dad’s work, you’re unanimously nicknamed new girl™ by all of forks high school’s students

and consequently, you’re the new eye candy for your male peers

Forks boys are, well . . . neanderthals douchebags

the ones you’ve met are egotistical, super immature, and super HORNY

. . . you decide to keep your distance

aNyWaYs

you get smooshed into ap u.s. history

apush, baby, apush HAAAAA

the teacher points you to an empty seat next to some pale blonde dude

he gives off weird kid energy at first but then he politely speaks to you

“i’m jasper. welcome to forks” and gives you an acknowledging nod

his eyes are topaz!!!?? woooooooah that’s so cool is that like a genetic defect or smth??

aaaaand your teacher immediately assigns a PROJECT

a fuckin civil war project

you swear you see jasper’s pupils dilate

you hear a chuckle from behind you

and when you turn around you see a pale dude w a dark brown buzzcut and some blonde girl smirking beside him

you later find out that those are his siblings

his fuckin goofy ass siblings

anyways a few weeks pass

you pop in at your dad’s job @ forks hospital and see him chatting w a fellow physician

yet another pale dude with blonde hair 

JESUS HOW FUCKING MANY ARE THERE

you approach them and your dad embraces you in a hug

“heeeeyyyy sweet pea! how’s it goin’!” 

the doctor he was talking to looks at you fondly

“hello, i’m carlisle cullen” and offers you his hand to shake, which you do

“y/n, carlisle was just inviting us to his house later tonight for some dinner”

dr. hotpants puts his hands in his pockets and humbly grins

“my son jasper tells me you’re his classmate”

oh god he’s one of those pta dads, isn’t he??

“oh, yeah, he’s my partner in history”

he smiles, “that’s wonderful. my wife esme and i would love to have you both over as our guests. it’s not often we have company for dinner. and i’m sure the rest of my children would love to meet you, y/n”

jesus christ how many kids does this guy have?? he looks THIRTY

don’t worry, in the car your dad tells you they’re all adopted lmfao

✰✰later that night✰✰

their house is HUGE jesus fuckin christ

alice knows (well they all know) about you because of jasper

IMMEDIATELY loves you!!

“hi! i’m alice!!!”

WHOLESOME AS FUCK UGH

i’m EVAPORATING. i’m YODELLING. it’s fine :-)

you thought you weren’t gonna make any pals in forks bc of the weird horny teenage specimens but here we are ;-;

alice envelopes you into a tight hug and you, in shock, grasp her arms to acknowledge this affection

your dad’s chillin near carlisle and esme and he’s silently chuckling

oh . . . they all have black eyes now?? must be the weather

or the fluorescence

you wave at jasper, rosalie, and emmett

you notice the last sibling

he’s very handsome

to you, everything about him was attractive

his soft hair contrasted against his hardened facial features

you could tell he was socially reserved when it comes to new acquaintances, just like you

he physically isolates himself from his family once you and your dad arrived

he was standing alone near a corner away from everyone else

you make eye contact with him and his mental barrier breaks down

he loses his cool

his face contorts

his lips twist into puckered lines

he claps his hand over his mouth and vacates the room immediately, running up the stairs

everyone notices his sudden departure

his family is shocked but tbh not really

✰✰✰ eddy boy is a lil shy around girls sometimes ✰✰✰

carlisle breaks the impending doom of silence

“i apologize for edward leaving us so abruptly. he hasn’t been feeling well as of late; please excuse his absence. . .”

you awkwardly pretend like that never happened

you feel it in your gut that your presence disturbed him

and not only did you disturb him

but you disturbed him so bad that he had to leave

for why?? you don’t know

you then realize that everyone else in the room knows he left bc of you

. . . anyway you all sit down at the table but you and your dad are the only ones who have plates

your dad notices this too

“hey, aren’t you guys gonna eat too?”

esme grins warmly at him

“oh, don’t worry about us. we just wanted to welcome you to town!”

uhhh, ok ma’am

alice talks to you for almost the entire time you were eating ;-; i love her

you’re also talking to jasper, cracking some apush jokes

you, jasper, emmett, and rosalie talk shit about your classmates and teacher

“why the fuck -- *carlisle glares at emmett* -- heck did mr. whatshisface give us a project RIGHT AFTER BREAK???!!”

“and he paired y/n and jasper!! they’re civil war  n e r d s!! they’re gonna get the best grade” rosalie chimes in

“not if we--”

alice  ❀politely❀  tells them to stfu

you giggle

bonding with your new pals <33

allllllright so it’s a few days later

you’re walking home from school

it’s drizzling, as always, but you know that it’s gonna rain harder if you don’t get home fast enough

and some asshole

some persistent prick from your class

keeps flirting with you

he’s talking about how he hasn’t been able to take his eyes off of you since you came to forks

he’s insisting he has your phone number, that he’s gonna take you out on dates. . .

you hate it

you’re so uncomfortable but you can’t really do anything about it

s u d d e n l y

a car pulls up beside where you and the guy are walking on the sidewalk and screeches to a stop

the window is rolled down and you see a familiar face

it’s edward cullen

with one hand on the wheel, he looks at both of you and clenches his jaw

“get in”

even though he was undeniably weird a few weeks ago, you concede

you never got to speak to him, but you knew that edward was trustworthy

you practically launch yourself into his silver volvo c30™

he shoots a stone-cold glare to the jackass on the sidewalk and drives away

honestly, it wouldn’t take much for anyone (not just a mind-reading vampire) to know how uncomfortable you are after what just happened with that guy

your body language is tense

your arms are crossed tightly

your body is pointed towards the passenger window as your knees touch the door

tears are welling up in your eyes

it would be mere seconds until you fully broke down

you’re embarrassed, to say the least

you’re embarrassed that you were put in a vulnerable situation, like a damsel in distress

and of all people, the handsome and mysterious guy--

the handsome and mysterious guy you began crushing on

--who feels seemingly indifferent towards you swept you off your feet and helped you when you needed someone

that made things even more embarrassing

and the tears started streaming down your heated cheeks

edward immediately sensed your unease (hmm wonder why, but also who wouldn’t sense it???)

he’s pissed. 

absolutely livid

that asshole had a  d e a t h w i s h

he knew you didn’t want to address your unsolicited encounter, so . . .

*awkwardly clears throat* “are you enjoying the weather?”

you choked

you did not expect him to ask that

nor did you expect him to talk at. all.

you smile through your tears and laugh

you can’t help but laugh

he’s just so awkward and cute

his half-baked plan of indirectly distracting you definitely worked

you started to excitedly talk about the rain and how much you love gloomy, cloudy days

. . . and then the elephant in the room

the inevitable first impression from a few days ago

“i’m sorry for my behavior from our first meeting. i wasn’t feeling well, and i wouldn’t have wanted for you or your father to be affected by my illness”

you’re a little skeptical at first

buuuuut you give him the benefit of the doubt and dismiss his apology

“that’s okay. it’s allergy season, anyway. i’m glad you’re feeling better”

you have no idea how bad i wanted to make a spanish flu joke right there

a small, soft smile lifts the corners of his lips “i’m edward cullen”

you look at him and return the smile

t h e  t e a s i n g  e n e r g y

“i’m y/n”

the car approaches your house after time seems to have flown by

your dad looks at you both as he walks to his car to go to work

he waves at edward

edward smiles and waves back at him as he enters the car

you gratefully thank edward for the ride, careful not to dwell on the prior circumstances

as you open the passenger door, edward grabs your wrist

!!he grabs your wrist!!

he insists on being your ride to and from school from now on

you object and exit the car

but

b u t

edward smirks, leaning towards the open door

“i’ll see you in the morning, y/n” 

your jaw drops

and then he closes the door and speeds off

you watch him drive away and your heartbeat becomes arrhythmic 

a garden of butterflies is unleashed in your stomach

blood rushes to your cheeks once more

you smile to yourself before heading inside

secretly anticipating tomorrow morning :’)

[themonotonysyndrome]

Halcyon Heart

Serving you guys part 5 of the ‘Successors of the Future’ today! Oh god, I procrastinate this oneshot like you wouldn’t believe it! Honestly? I’m not too happy about this piece but the plot must keep moving. 

In this oneshot, the names of Leona, Ace and Deuce’s kids will be reveal! I did my best to keep their names within the card games theme and overall, I think they turned out ok. I went with the deep meaning name for Leona’s son. Kudos to anyone who manage to figure out the meaning behind them! 

This oneshot can’t begin without us thanking the great @tri3tri for her amazing Second Wive AU. Please drop by at her blog to see even more yandere!Malleus content. 

-

“Well... you certainly are MC’s daughter, Renata-chan.” The headmaster sigh tiredly. Behind his mask, Crowley narrowed his eyes at the three students sitting across his desk. Said girl is at least apologetic (Crowley assumed she is, because she can barely look him in the eyes), the two boys with her - Hoyle Trappola and Rex Spade are just seconds away from passing out from sheer exhaustion, sporting scorch marks on their face, hair and uniforms. 

Crowley resists pinching the bridge of his nose in irritation. And to think, his day has been going on so well too. He had finally managed to complete all of his paperwork before the end of the month, the teaching staffs aren’t passive-aggressively bickering with one another for once, and the cook in the cafeteria even left the last dessert of the day just for him! 

And then came Professor Crewel kicking his office’s door down, dragging three rowdy puppies behind him and a report about scorched marks on pavements and fountain due to misconduct of magic. 

When Crowley leans to the side to see which students were responsible, he could only sigh. Was it too much to ask for this generation of Trappola, Spade and MC/S not to inherit their parent’s ungodly habit of getting into trouble!? 

So here there are now, three students waiting for punishments. At that moment, Crowley felt as if he was transported into the past as he stares down at them. 

Crowley folded his arms across his chest and said, “Professor Crewel reported your misbehaviours and the damages done. Now, what I want to know is how this happened.” Silence. “Well? Would anyone like to share the story?” 

Almost instantly, the young Spade spoke up. “It’s all Hoyle’s fault!” An indignant hiss of, “Shut it, Rex!” interrupted him, but the boy ignored it and pressed on, “He dropped a food tray on MC/S-san when she was eating.” 

“Oi! I told you already! It was an accident, alright!?” Young Trappola is quick to defend himself, disgruntled about the whole affair. Beside him, Renata just rolled her eyes. Despite looking so much like her father, she’s surprisingly expressive with a lit fused of a temper. 

“An accident? While young Trappola did commit a mistake, does it warrant an... explosive reaction, MC/S-san?” Here, Crowley stares pointedly at the girl. 

Renata sigh. “No, headmaster.” 

“In the future, please restrain yourself MC/S-san. Now then, punishment.” The three of them groaned, and unimpressed, Crowley tilt his head at them. “Keep that up and I will extend your punishment to a month.” 

The teenagers straighten up after that. Good. So he continues. 

“The three of you will be cleaning the Hall of Mirrors starting tomorrow, right after your last class of the day. Now, because the damages are only minor, your punishment will only be for a week. If I catch any reports that the three of you misbehaving again, I will extend the punishment. Is that clear?” Crowley demanded. 

“Yes, headmaster.” The three of them drone simultaneously. 

And with that, Crowley dismisses them. Once the door is click shut, voices are raised outside - the three of them are bickering again - before footsteps carried them away. 

The headmaster could only wordlessly shake his head. Looks like he’s in for another rough few years until these three graduated. 

Just like old times. 

Outside at the quiet hallway, the only noises that can be heard this evening are Hoyle’s heated complaints, Rex’s put out sighs and Renata’s outwardly annoyance (in the inside though, Hoyle’s flying food tray was a pleasant surprise. Sometimes, it’s nice not to use Observer all the time). 

“Quit your complaining already, Hoyle.” Rex interjects when he could no longer tolerate his whining. “At least the headmaster didn’t expel us!” 

“Yeah, yeah. And you!” Hoyle said and focused his attention on Renata. She raised an inquisitive eyebrow when he glares at her. “This is not just my fault, you know! Got anything to say about that?” 

Renata nodded, her face turned serious though her lips struggle not to twitch into a cheeky grin. “Yes. Dodge better next time.” 

Rex gapes at her, incredulous and certainly not expecting that comment while Hoyle bristles. 

“This is going to be a long week.” Rex muttered as Renata pretend to be nonchalant when Hoyle demanded an apology. 

True to his word, their week shaped up to be rather long and busy. Not only did the three of them were reprimanded by the headmaster and their Dorm Leaders, they also had piles and piles of homework and club practise on top of their punishment. By the time Thursday roll by, they were ready to collapse from exhaustion. 

Tonight, Rex had to drag Hoyle by his arm as they head towards Heartslabyul’s main mirror that leads to Hall of Mirrors. A few of their dorm members watch their shenanigans with amusement while others snickered; it’s practically known throughout their dorm of their punishment. 

“For fuck’s sake, Rex, lemme go! Why can’t we let Renata clean the mirrors tonight for once!?” Hoyle exclaimed, doing his best o wrestle his arm free but surprisingly, Rex is a lot stronger than he lets on. 

“Do you want her to complain to the headmaster that we’re slacking off?” Rex suggests. “And extend our punishment? Look, the sooner we can finish off cleaning the Hall of Mirrors, the sooner we can have our free time again.” 

“I hate that you make sense.” Hoyle grumbled but decided not to argue any further. 

When they step through the mirror, they found that Renata is already there, waiting for them. Her back was facing them, and she’s currently talking to... no one. 

“ - was ok. I mean, with all things considered and I didn’t use any of my spells so shut up, Cherry.” A voice - it sounds like a woman - chatter back. “It’s just cleaning the mirrors of the seven dorms, no big deal. Mm-hmm, I promise not to throw fire at people next time, Mama.” The woman - apparently, Renata’s mother - said something, but it’s muffled. “Will do, Mama. Goodnight, I love you too.” 

Renata put something - not a phone. It’s too small to be one - into her blazer’s pocket and turn around. 

She greets them, “What kept you guys? I already swept the floor and dusted the walls.” 

“This one wanted to ditch.” Rex reply, pointing a finger at Hoyle before he grabs the mop and bucket. 

“Oi! You didn’t have to tell her.” Hoyle snapped. 

“Uh, did you think on how that’s going to be for you if it’s only me and Spade-san doing the cleaning?” Renata asked, looking and clearly judging how many brain cells he has. 

Hoyle just told her to shut up and picks up a wet sponge from a spare bucket filled with soap to start cleaning Scarabia’s mirror. 

It’s quiet as they clean up the Hall of Mirrors. As Rex mop the floor, he could see Renata focusing on her task in wiping the mirror that he and Hoyle just used. During the Entrance Ceremony, he could only catch a glimpse of her from the back of the crowd, confused as to why his seniors are mumbling and commenting about her appearance. 

Only the blind couldn’t see how beautiful the girl is. If Rex is the poetic sort, he would liken the night of a full moon and stars to her. But honestly, other than her pretty face, he doesn’t understand why their seniors tend to give her a wide berth whenever she walks by. 

Hell, he even noticed that her own dorm members are polite yet strangely distant with her. 

Rex wonders if she’s lonely. “So, uh, you’re pretty good with magic, huh MC/S-san?” He blurted out. He surprises himself at his sudden boldness. 

Thankfully Renata didn’t find it strange or awkward. “More or less. Magic always fascinated me, even when as I was a kid. I’ve been testing the limit of my magic ever since.” Pleased at herself when Heartslabyul’s mirror gleam under the bright light, she moves on to Savanaclaw’s. 

“What about you, Spade-san?” Renata threw his question back. 

“It’s alright, MC/S-san! You can call me Rex.” 

“Ah, then please call me Renata. Since you extend the same courtesy and all.” 

An easy conversation flow between them after that. Occasionally, Hoyle would join them, his brand of sarcasm or snarkiness here and there but overall, it was nice to talk to him. And when he threw a rather malicious teasing to Renata, she threw right one back. It strangely morphs into a playful banter between the three of them. 

Cleaning felt less like a punishment after that. 

-

When they finally reach the final day of their punishment, something happened. 

While Hoyle and Rex shared the same class - 1-A - Renata is in 1-B. And it just so happen that her negligence came to bit her in the ass. 

After History lesson ended for class 1-A and Hoyle was the last one to leave due to Professor Trein holding him back to talk about his recent subpar assignment, a Heartslabyul student from 1-B called him out. 

“Extra assignment? This is the worst...” Hoyle sigh in dejection once he finishes reading the piece of paper given to him by the teacher. Dangling the piece of paper in low spirits, Hoyle resigned himself to many, many trips to the library so this extra assignment can boost his grade from F to a D. 

So lost in his thought, he completely missed that his name being called. It was only when a student - his dorm member - grab his shoulder that he broke out from his train of thoughts. 

“Hey, you’re Hoyle Trappola, right? The one that was nearly flambé alive, yeah?”

Hoyle bristle. Is that what people are calling him now? The flambé dude? Urgh, this is seriously all Renata’s fault! “What do you want?” He snaps. Unfortunately for him, the Heartslabyul student was unfazed of his bad mood. 

“Listen, I need you to do something for me. I shared the same class as that Diasomnia girl, 1-B. Earlier today she left this in class.” Hoyle’s dorm member explain and showed him a plain-looking journal. “She left quickly and when I saw her at the Main Street, she was with Bakari Kingscholar. Anyway, I just thought that since you and Rex are cleaning the Hall of Mirrors with her, you can give this back.” 

“Why are asking me to do it? You just said that you saw her at the Main Street!” 

“Yeah and with Kingscholar. I couldn’t approach her; not when that guy glared at me and my legs froze up. So here you go!” 

And with that, he shoves the journal into Hoyle’s arms, making him fumble with the paper and journal before they could drop. “Oi! I’m not doing your fucking errand - ” Hoyle shouted, but by then, his dorm member had long jog off with a cheerful wave goodbye. “Seriously... this is so not my day...” 

As Hoyle made his way to the library, he absentmindedly flips through the pages of the journal. Not all care that it was rude to rummage through others’ belonging. Notes about various classes mostly filled the pages; others are just mindless doodles that the girl probably drew out of boredom. 

“Isn’t there anything good in here? Something that can knock her off her high horse maybe.” Hoyle murmurs to himself as he continues to flip the pages. Rex might be willing to let it slide that it was Renata that landed them in trouble with the principle but not him. Hoyle felt that a prank would even the score between them. 

By the time he scored himself a nice, quiet table in the corner of the library, he reaches to the last page of Renata’s journal. His eyes widen at the sight of a strange rune that took up the entire white page. There were even some notes written around it. “Well, well, what is this? Communication rune? This looks interesting...”

Later that night as Rex was about to step through the mirror, he felt something... not quite right. Perhaps he ate something bad during dinner. His uneasiness is not going to dampen his high spirits though. Finally, tonight is their last day of punishment! Tomorrow they’ll be free humans! 

“Yo, Rex! Glad to see you show up before MC/S.” 

Hoyle greets him with a wide grin, standing in the centre of the hall. 

“Oh, you were here first, Hoyle? Did you start cleaning?” Rex was surprised that Hoyle actually took the initiative to start their chore before them. Rex’s heart is touched. Maybe Hoyle isn’t all that bad - 

“What? Forget about cleaning, check out what I have!” 

Nevermind. Rex takes it back. 

Hoyle didn’t hesitate to drag the unimpressed Rex close to him and shove a piece of folded paper in between his eyes. When he unfolded it, Rex is confused. Someone had drawn a rune. Now, Rex doesn’t know all that much about runes and their inner workings, so he has no idea why Hoyle has this with him. 

“What is this? Your homework?” Rex asked, his face scrunched up. “I don’t remember seeing this in class.” 

Hoyle rolled his eyes. “It’s not homework. I found this in MC/S’s journal this morning and tried to checked all the books about runes and stuff in the library but nothing came up. How crazy is that!” He excitedly explains, eyes shining brightly. 

Rex didn’t share his enthusiasm, however. “You stole Renata’s journal?” His eyes are wide in disbelief. He threw the piece of paper back at Hoyle who easily catch it. “Do you want her to burn you again!?” 

“What she won’t know, won’t harm her. That is, if you keep this between us.” Hoyle reply, narrowing his eyes at Rex in a threatening manner. 

Rex just throws his hands up in exasperation. “She’s going to find out when she realised that her journal is missing! Look, just put put that thing back and - ”

“Hell no. I want to test this out. Aren’t you curious too?” Hoyle demanded, and that’s when Rex notices that he has a marker pen in his other hand. “And beside, I’ll give the journal back to her once we find out what this rune does.” He then walks around him towards the Heartslabyul mirror and starts drawing. 

“W-Wait! It’s against the rule - ” Rex stammers out, but Hoyle quickly interrupts him. 

“Rule 809: One should not vandalise Heartslabyul’s mirror. Yeah, yeah, I remember. But this - ” Hoyle stops drawing to gesture at the marker pen in his hand “ - is not a permanent. So I’m not technically breaking any rules if I can just clean it up later.” He answered with a nonchalant shrug. 

Rex paused to ponder. Well, Hoyle put it that way... More than that, Rex is baffled that Hoyle remembers that particular rule of their dorm. 

“Done!” Hoyle huff proudly before taking a step back to admire his handiwork. He briefly glances at the paper and then back to the mirror - it’s a perfect copy. The two boys watch as the surface of the mirror ripple once before the rune vanishes, and the mirror becomes pitch black. 

“Whoa... I’ve never seen any mirror in Night Raven College look black before.” Rex said in awe. He gently and carefully presses his fingers on the surface, and it pushes through. “It feels like any other enchanted mirrors though.” 

“It’s not suppose to lead anywhere. According to the notes, it’s a communication rune.” Hoyle explains. “But there’s no such thing as communication runes so this must be something that MC/S came up.” 

Rex’s eyes widen at Hoyle’s theory. Runes are notoriously one of the hardest subjects ever in all of Twisted Wonderland. She mentioned that she’s been experimenting with magic, but Rex didn’t expect that she could do something like this! 

Suddenly, Rex’s awe quickly turns to horror when something yanks his fingers into the mirror. 

“What the - ”

“Rex!” Hoyle shouted and grabbed his arm to pull his back. Rex’s arm is inside of the black mirror! A powerful tug completely yanks the two of them into the mirror and the surface return to normal. 

The next thing they realise is that they’re now in the mirror. 

And that’s how Renata found them; a piece of paper with her rune on it and rex and Hoyle pounding furiously from the inside of the mirror and screaming at her to get them out. 

“For fuck’s sake you guys - ”

Needless to say, the three of them are in for a long night. 

-

“So you finally decide to show up? You kept me waiting for an hour. I love to hear your excuse - why do you look like shit?”

“Shut up, Kingscholar. I don’t want to hear it from you.” 

“...Right. Any reason why there’s Heartslabyul students in my mirror then?”

“Whoa, so this is how it looks like inside of the Savanaclaw dorm!”

“I, uh, didn’t expect that you like to do homeworks in, uh, Kingscholar’s bedroom, Renata-san.”

Bakari glares at Renata who just look tired and supporting heavy, black eye bags. The girl in question refused to look at him. 

-

And there we go! This is the start to Renata, Hoyle and Rex glorious friendship and shenanigans. Their friendships mirrored their parents except the kids are lot stronger; magically-wise. I’m fleshing out their characters and Unique Magic as we go along the series but so far, I have a pretty good idea how I want them to turn out. 

[not-poignant]

Hey Pia hope you’re doing well

I was wondering, is the thing where Arden picks up a bunch of random hobbies and commitments a part of his ADHD or does it have like a name?

I’m a highschool student and I get told by all my friends and teachers that I have overcommitment issues and part of it’s just for uni and whatever ofc but it’s also that I want to do ALL THESE THINGS

Like I’m in 4 different science competition teams, the school debating team, school orchestra, scholarship classes, editor of my school newsletter, I lead the school amnesty and unicef clubs plus the IB program and being in the national maths Olympiad team lol and I don’t want to let any of these go but it’s so stressful and I’m so tired and ppl say I have to say no to stuff which is also stressful!

Also, doing more is always portrayed as such a great thing and I feel rlly guilty letting stuff go? So I’m just reaching out because you portrayed it in such a refreshing way and I was really curious!

Firstly, massive respect for your ability to fit this ask into the Tumblr ask limits. Seriously :D

Okay secondly, Arden’s habit of picking up a bunch of random hobbies / commitments is part of his ADHD. People with ADHD have this to different degrees, and my beta in particular relates really hard to this habit of Arden’s.

But actually, one of the reasons I put this in is because this is a very bad habit of mine - which is overcommitting, and overworking. And not wanting to let anything go.

People teach you a lot of skills in your life on how to pick things up, but almost no one teaches you what to do when you have many hobbies you love, and they’re hurting you because you’re working too hard and don’t have time for your loved ones (or to even really have loved ones) as an example. And it absolutely is a crucial skill to learn for people who are dealing with this, though capitalists don’t want you to learn it.

In the media what I see is most folks having no hobbies and someone being ‘oh you have to learn some.’ I liked Arden as a contrast to that ‘no, that’s too many things, put some back.’ Where Arden’s ADHD manifests - though it’s much more controlled than it used to be - is that he desires to spend a lot of money on the thing as soon as he gets into it (because he only wants the best of the best - which wasn’t great when he wasn’t earning much money), and that he starts really hooking into it in an obsessive kind of way. Spending a night making bows for your dog is one thing. Then wanting to spend $500 and start an Etsy store small business is like...from one day of work, not great.

A lot of Arden’s life has involved choosing to let go of things he’s loved doing, for his own sanity. This is something I’ve had to do as well and I fucking hate it, and these are the techniques I’ve developed for myself (and my still frankly overcommitted ass, who has people saying ‘when are you going to do LESS’ all the time to my face).

* Remind yourself that dropping some things now doesn’t mean you’re dropping them forever. It doesn’t have to be permanent. Sometimes it’s good to put a time limit on something. ‘I’m going to drop this for four weeks / four months and put a note/reminder in my phone about it right now.’ Chances are high you are not going to be as interested in that thing in four weeks/four months. (Chances are sadly also high you may have replaced it with something else). Like, there will be science groups you can join for the rest of your life. And debate groups. And newsletters.

(That being said, none of those things count towards our grades in Australia? So I don’t know how much these things are counting towards your grades in general and I’m not going to like, touch that side of things - however overcommitment is a super fast way to do a lot of things not that well, or to suddenly get so sick you can’t do any of the things and then feel terrible while you’re sick, more on that later!).

* Time caps on certain hobbies and activities and commitments. This is to actually shoot my habit of hyperfocusing in the foot. I don’t have time to play piano for four hours, but I’m allowed to play it for ten minutes a day (sometimes more but not often). And ten minutes a day adds up over time. I literally sit down and put the timer on my phone. If say there’s something that meets up twice a week but some people only go once, be one of those people!

* Rate the things based on how they contribute to your a) career and b) quality of life and c) happiness. Anything that rates lower on the list compared to the others (that isn’t like, literal money-making work or literal classes) needs to be dropped.

* Dropping things is just actually one of the hardest parts and there’s no real trick to making this easier. I just remind myself: ‘Just because I can do this thing, and do this thing well, doesn’t mean it’s good or healthy for me to do this thing. I need to spend time with people I care about, and I need rest, and those things matter more even if they feel less like ‘accomplishments.’ I want to care for myself through my hobbies, not punish myself.’ That goes some way in keeping perspective, but look, ngl, it sucks to drop commitments if you have an accomplishment/achievement/job satisfaction addiction. It just sucks.

* Accept that you are going to feel guilty, and that guilt is just an emotion, and it doesn’t mean you’ve done something bad. Look sometimes guilt gets it wrong! Sometimes you feel crushingly guilty just for breaking a bad habit, it’s not useful, you just have to kind of be like ‘huh I’m feeling a lot of guilt for trying to look after myself, that’s really interesting, I guess I can understand that but I’m also going to try and praise myself for doing a great job. Just because this isn’t an obvious kind of achievement, I know I achieved something really big and difficult today.’

* Oh yeah, use achievement and ‘job’ type language for doing things that involve successfully taking care of yourself and your energy levels. Just...sometimes you have to ‘if you can’t beat them join them’ - chances are you’ve never been as kind to yourself or proud of yourself for resting and taking it easy and seeing friends, than you are for taking on too many commitments. So...challenge yourself to be kind to yourself and proud of yourself for resting and taking it easy and seeing friends and committing to less. Trust me, you are never going to forget how to overcommit, and you are never going to become lazy or lax because you dropped a few of the (billion) things that you’re committed to. You can afford to praise yourself for this! And generously!

* Seriously, seriously consider seeing doctors or psychologists about this. Despite a TON of PTSD, I actually see my therapist most for working too hard and overcommitting. We spend a lot of time talking about why I might not be the worst person in the world for taking a break. Take it seriously. Your list alone made me feel like I was about to have a panic attack, lmao, your friends and teachers are right, you have overcomittment issues.

* Workaholicism and work addiction is real. There is a growing amount of information about how to deal with it and it’s worth googling.

***

Er anyway that’s what I do. It doesn’t always work. I have a lot of rules in place and I abandon half of them about halfway through the year and then s u f f e r. And have been doing that for over 25 years and I’m going to say bluntly now - it’s why I’m as sick as I am, and some of that sickness is irreversible. If nothing else, if you want to stay as active as you are now, I do not recommend that anyone push themselves so hard that they can no longer even do things that they enjoy on a regular basis, because they’re too physically debilitated to manage it, because they pushed their bodies too hard during the university years and just after. Because that is 100% why I became so sick in the first place.

And even extremely healthy people who have no history of chronic illness often develop something, in conjunction with years and years of working too hard or overcommitting. I’ve seen it happen to far too many of my friends, and you might feel like ‘just another six months’ or ‘just another three years’ but you’d be surprised how quickly you can go from ‘I’m doing it I’m doing it’ to ‘I keep getting migraines all the time doctor how do I fix this so I can go back to working as hard as I was before’ and your doctor being like ‘...yeah this isn’t curable. I’m going to give you some meds, that all come with horrible side effects, and you simply can’t do what you were doing before.’ Game over.

Trust me, that shit catches up with your body always. It might not be now, and I hope frankly it’s never, but overcommitment and workaholicism are the two fastest ways I know to chronic illness and once you get there, you can’t work your way out of it again.

Though god knows I have tried.

[kidney9-9]

Petty Chapter 2 (Peter Parker)

Hi everyone! Hope you enjoy this chapter, you get to see how Peter reacts to his new grade, and you learn more about Mandy, as a human being. You’re either going to love her or hate her in this series! Peter and Reader are finally going to meet and interact in the next chapter. 

Taglist is open, send in an Ask to be a part of the taglist. Updates are every other day! 

Series Masterlist  Chapter 1

Peter Parker x Reader Warnings: swearing, lying and blackmail Word Count: 2.4k

Peter walked to his next class, grinning slightly. Everything was good, it was great. His family and team were safe again, no threats to humanity present as he walked through the halls. He wasn’t thinking about fighting techniques this time, as he sighed out, just completely relieved. He deserved this break. Just everything has been a shit show for how many years, and starting from today, Peter promised to himself it’ll be happier.

Stay happy, right? Sounds easy.

No, fuck that. As soon as Peter walked into his next class, he scolded to himself silently. Fuck, did he hate this class. English was one of his worst subjects, since he couldn’t read everything assigned to him. Miss Mandy Riley was always just never his favorite teacher. Her way of teaching just never made sense with Peter, and he always blocked out her voice as he sat through the lecture in class.

Right after school he never had time to read the books assigned almost every two weeks in this class, he was too busy doing Spiderman duties, or other homework, or binging Star Wars movies again. He knew he did good in the class, but was he entirely good with the subject? No, of course not. He only read the summaries of whatever books the teacher threw at him. Sometimes he watched the movies too, but who had the time for that? Only regular high school students. The tests were all pretty easy, he just would bubble in ones that made the most sense, and to his pleasure, he usually got As on the tests.

Essays were one of his worst enemies. He had no clue how to write an introduction paragraph, other than “Once upon a time…” And he knew it was terrible. Whenever he was assigned them, he usually looked up online examples of whatever type of essay the teacher wanted. He summarized whatever a few of the essays said, at around 2AM, half awake.

This one was the hardest. He had to do it all himself! He even had a while to do it, and he thought, why not just try? So, he did, and he was proud of the final proof of it. The only thing interesting in his life was just about being Spiderman, but he knew he couldn’t reveal he was Spiderman, but he tried his best to be vague. It was almost a confidence boost to him, as he started to compare himself to history’s finest heroes or others. It wasn’t even completely English related, but he just hoped that Miss Riley would enjoy it.

He sat in his usual seat, glancing around as others started to check their grades, knowing the essay was worth most of the points. His partner in the class came in, sitting down with a loud groan. “Hey, I got a B-, I thought mine was fine. It brought my grade down.”  He greeted Peter.

Peter tilted his head back to his partner, “Wait, really? You usually get full points on them.” Marcus was one of the best students in this class, one that liked learning more about English and everything. Marcus sighed, and shook his head.

“I know…What did you get?” Marcus responded, wiping his face with his hands, annoyed about his grades. Peter nodded back to him, and shrugged, showing he didn’t check. He pulled his phone out of his pocket, and unlocked it, glancing over to Marcus.

“If she gave you a B-, what did she give me?”

Shit. Fuck, holy fuck. Bitch on a fucking stick. Peter swore in his head angrily and in disbelief, dropping his phone on the desk, causing it to clatter loudly. All his grades, just perfect, As, maybe one B in Chemistry, but this fucking English class? A fucking D, 63.02% out of 100% in the whole class now. How was he supposed to recover that, and how did he manage to get such a low grade?

Peter glanced up and away from his phone, feeling everyone stare at him. The class went silent as everyone else filled in, watching him as they took their seats. “Is something wrong?” Miss Riley asked, furrowing his eyebrows at him in irritation at the sound. Her head was still pounding, as she took a seat in her chair, closing her eyes as Peter nervously responded back to her.

“I-uh, can I talk to you after class?” Peter mumbled, cringing as Marcus scoffed out an unamused laugh, since he leaned over to Peter’s desk and saw his grade. Mandy barely shrugged to him, obviously not wanting to do anymore work today. She glanced down to his phone and raised her eyebrows, signaling to him that he should have put it away.

Peter rushed to shove his phone back in his pocket, locking it as he saw the grade again. Mandy grinned at him, unaware of what grade he had, as he silently cursed her out in his head. Why the fuck a D? He sighed as the teacher started the discussion off, as if nothing wrong happened. That essay was one of the things he was proud of, and just like that, he was put down.

“Today we’re reviewing logos, pathos, and ethos in writing. Write down an example to any of them, and I’ll be calling on each of…” Peter drowned her voice out as she continued for another ten minutes. He just wanted to leave the class. He knew what was going to happen, how he was going to fail English class this semester and be held back for a whole year just because of this class.

What the fuck was he going to do about it? He had to talk to Miss Riley again, even though he didn’t like her. He was sure she didn’t like him either, with the way she graded his last essay. Was it because he did something in the class? He had no idea, she was usually chill with students, so he hoped she would give him a chance, and fix it.

Marcus cleared his throat, grabbing Peter’s attention. He glanced over to Marcus as others started chatting with each other, while Miss Riley pulled up the lesson plans for the day. “You’re fucked, dude.” Marcus spoke up, making Peter shake his head. He wasn’t going to let it happen, he wouldn’t be held back because of this grade, he knew it.

“No, I’ll fix it.” Peter retorted, rolling his eyes as Marcus chuckled at him. It was like he was taunting him, as he leaned closer to Peter, elbowing his arm. “Yeah right. Grades are locked, you can’t do anything about it now.” Marcus scoffed in disbelief at him, shaking his head. He stared back down to his paper, quickly scribbling down his example while Mandy cleared her throat.

“What the fuck?” Peter whisper-shouted, not realizing it was already this time of the school year. He tensed up at the thoughts rushing through his head.

By the time class ended, everyone rushed out, with their bags already packed up. Peter stayed in his seat, slouching as Marcus waved bye to him. Peter gazed over to the teacher as she sighed out, tired from the day already, even though it was only second period. “So, what do you want?” Mandy mumbled, rubbing her eyes, not caring her makeup would look shitty.

Peter raised his eyebrows at her, as he tried to explain himself, but at the last second, he found himself second guessing everything. Was it a bad essay? Fuck, probably if she graded it so low! If not that, then what? Peter thought back to the essay, trying to remember if he checked off all of the things on the rubric and he knew he did.

“Peter just spit it out, I’ve got a fifteen-minute break and I intend to use it.” Mandy mumbled, with her head banging in pain. She just needed coffee, and maybe some protein just to get through the rest of the day. She groaned to herself, thinking she should have just called in a substitute. Peter stood up and furrowed his eyebrows as a dangerous thought went through his head.

He slowly made his way in front of her desk and nervously stood there. “Do…do you know?” He whispered intensely down to Mandy. He was referring to his duties as Spiderman, that had to be the only reason she marked his paper so low, right? He couldn’t find any other reason that made sense, except if his writing was just so bad, she marked it down like that.

Mandy did not understand Peter, but she knew if saying “no” to his answer, she would probably be talking to him longer than she wanted to. She gazed at him, half dozed off and wanting to sleep, and half just feeling horrible from her hangover. So, she just shrugged to him, “Yeah, I do.”

Now, Mandy has a few morals of life, and a buttfuck that she didn’t care about. Her first moral was, only be honest to herself, it will get her everywhere she wanted to be. The thing against that, was she didn’t care if she had to lie to others at all, whether it be a white lie, or one that was about her identity. She just wanted to be ahead and happy in life. 

Her next moral was own up to mistakes, only when needed. She wasn’t just going to tell everyone, absolutely every mistake she’s ever committed, it would take too much effort and time. She wasn’t going to out herself every time she noticed something she did wrong, and not that many people seemed to notice anyway. Her last moral was, be kind. Well, sometimes, and her type of kindness was not others would call kind. She’s the type of person to push you into the sand if there was a bee near you, and not care about helping you up.

“Shit!” Peter cursed, banging his hands down on her desk harshly, creating dents in the metal. The two of them stared down in shock at the desk, as Mandy stood up, gasping. “I’m so sorry!” He immediately reacted, putting his hands up in the air. Mandy slowly shook her head at him, with wide eyes. She couldn’t say anything, she was too surprised to do anything. Never has a student been violent in her classroom before, and she had no idea how to react.

When Mandy didn’t say anything, Peter took a small step back. How did she know he was Spiderman? His thoughts ran rampant as Mandy sighed, rubbing her face again. “Please, you can’t tell anyone!” He pushed out, realizing that his secret identity was more important than his grades.

Mandy paused at that, as her eyes drifted around the room. “I won’t,” She paused, causing Peter to let out a breath of relief, “As long as you get a sponsorship or donor for my class.” She knew of his internship at Stark, and she had the opportunity to grab some money, so she did it. She needed it for the class, yeah, but it was just so she could buy a new desk now, and a new cabinet in the storage room, so she could have more space to put her things.

She just hoped Peter couldn’t spot her lie, and besides she had no idea what he was saying or why he needed to speak to her about it, so she thought she wouldn’t get in trouble for this.

Peter sighed, nodding quickly. “I’ll do it…About my grades though…?” He mumbled, still hoping he had his foot in the door, to make a deal. He needed to graduate; this grade was the only thing stopping him. Mandy furrowed her eyebrows as she glanced down to her laptop, opening the browser to look at his grades.

It took a few seconds to load, making Peter fidget nervously with his hands. Mandy gasped at his grades, swearing in her head as she realized what you did. “Fuck you, shithead.” She cursed under her breath, shaking her head, as she looked back up to Peter.

Mandy rolled her eyes as she started to explain, “I can’t help you for now, everything is locked and in place. Just don’t screw up on the final.” Peter scrunched his face up in irritation and anger as he nodded back to her. He took another step behind him, as he glanced to the door, wanting to leave.

Everything sucked.

He glanced down to his hands a few hours after his deal with Miss Riley. The bruises littered across his knuckles from the way he dented in the desk. He cringed at the thought, and shook his head, wondering how he was supposed to get the money to give to her. He knew he had to get it from Tony, but he had no idea how to just mention he needed to make a sizable amount to the teacher. Peter furrowed his eyebrows, wondering how much money she even wanted.

The fact that she couldn’t help his grade annoyed him too. Even if he got 100% on that final exam, it would only boost his grade by 10%, leaving him with a C in the class. He needed that A to get into NYU with a scholarship, he wanted to make Aunt May proud of him. And if he completely failed that test…he sighed, thinking about what it would be like to repeat senior year.

Mandy hit her head against her car seat once she left the school, shaking her head again at the thought of you. She dialed your number quickly, not caring about others waving bye to her as they walked by her car.

When you answered your phone, seeing it was Mandy, you smiled. You thought it would be a nice call, maybe she would say something about bringing you some food for dinner, but no. “Fuck you, you stupid shit. You are the fucking worst thing ever, how the fuck am I related to you?” Mandy screamed through the phone.

You gasped at her tone, quickly scoffing back as you prepared to launch into an argument with her. You had them with her all the time, it was normal, but you could tell right now this was about something serious. “What are you going on about?” You questioned, blinking up and glancing around you.

You were sitting in your last class of the day, waiting for it to start. Not that many of your classmates were around just now, making you thankful as you knew how loud your cousin’s voice could travel through the phone.

“You fucked Peter Parker’s grades! And now we’re both in a field of your shit, you shithead.” Your smile quickly dropped, as you felt your heart drop. Oh fuck, you should’ve known that petty action of yours would land you into a mess.

--

Tags: @ithoughtthiswastwitterbutfr @twilight-loveer @jillanaholland @ragnarachael @itscaminow @lozzypoz321 @nicholas-nikki @hollandprkr @spidey-reids-2003 @belleknows @zimmerxman @peepeeparkerr @quaksonhehe @im-salt-but-not-salty 

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[frighthouseofalighthouse]

I'm gonna do it. I'll take all the history asks for 500, Alex!

OKAy. I may have to reblog and do an add-on, because I will almost certainly go over the 250 paragraph limit. ALSO NICE JEOPARDY REFERNCE. Okay, ready? Go.

1: Historical role model?

We could all stand to be more like Julie D'Aubigny.

2: Favorite underrated historical figure?

See above.

3: Funniest historical kerfuffle?

In 1774 Boston's Committee of Safety (John and Samuel Adams as well as Joseph Warren and PaulRevere were on it) was made up almost entirely of patriots, except for one man: Daniel Leonard. They couldn't decide anything important with him around so they would have a fake meeting and then be like OKAY IT'S AUGUST WE'RE HOT AND TIRED, LET'S GO HOME, and then after he'd left they'd lock themselves in a room and have their REAL, TREASONOUS MEETING. Reading about this is objectively one of the funniest things I have ever heard. It's literally the beack house episode of Brooklyn Nine-Nine where they have a fake party for Captain Holt.

4: Favorite conspiracy theory revolving around history?

Whatever the fuck the real story of the X FIles was (I've watched the whole thing multiple times and I still don't know what exactly what the point was. DOn't get me wrong I love it. It just makes no sense.)

5: Favorite political scandal to examine?

The XYZ Affair because I was there for it all and it's...a lot

6: Opinion on the presidential assassinations and their impact on America?

I answered this in depth last time I got that question and you can read my response here.

7: Which time period would you like to live in?

Either take me back to the revolution or put me in Victorian England (BARRING MEDICAL NONSENSE AND SOCIAL BARRIERS)

6 (again?!): Favorite historical fiction book?

See the assassination link!

8: Favorite tv show based on historical events, but not really faithful to real life?

Top choices are Outlander, TURN: Washington's Spies, Black Sails, and Ripper Street.

9: Favorite musical based on history?

*sarcasm* Definitely NOT Hamilton whaaaaaaat why would you even assume that?! Ahem. Also Les Mis is cool I guess.

10: Favorite movie based on history?

Wonder Woman!!!

11: Favorite biography?

The Swamp Fox by John Oller

12: If you could prevent one tragedy, which would you choose?

The Trump Administration.

13: Fun fact?

MLK and Anne Frank were born in the same year.

14: Favorite female monarch?

Cleopatra or Mary Queen of Scots.

15: Favorite war leader?

I'm biased but George Washington.

16: Favorite controversial leader?

Winston Churchill

17: Favorite feminist pioneer?

J U L I E D ' A U B I G N Y. Also Mary Read and ANne Bonney my queer pirate gals

18: Which president, in your opinion, was the best speaker?

No contest, Abraham Lincoln.

19: If you would travel back in time and kill anyone, who would it be?

Listen I’m not a fan of these questions when people are like “I’d kill Hitler” etc. bc butterfly effect, BUT The British officer who shot John Laurens can CATCH THESE MF HANDS

20: Opinion on each of the founding fathers?

Oh boy. This is an interesting question at this point in time because I am currently grappling with the fact that the people I worked with did not really believe in equality for all, and the system we built was designed to reflect this. However, it is a system that I believed in and put my everything towards so I have many conflicted feelings toward it rn. Anyway here's the low-down on the major ones. GEORGE WASHINGTON: Good guy, needed to loosen up and not be a slaveholder. JOHN ADAMS: old stinky man. Called me mushroom excrement once. Put him back in the swamp from whence he came. THOMAS JEFFERSON: Rapist. Slaveholder. Really stuffy. Founded an entire political party for People Who Don't Like Hamilton. Fuck him foreverrrr. JAMES MADISON: Friendly with me but betrayed me when Jefferson came back from France. 2/10, cute but do not trust him with your secrets or coffee order. JAMES MONROE: A teenager during the war and I barely ever saw him after that but he was fine ig. ALEXANDER HAMILTON: that me! Made mistakes but all around a cool(tm) guy. BENJAMIN FRANKLIN: fresh funky and really funny. Cooler than you'd expect an old man with gout to be.

21: Which leader do you think would make the best spouse?

No leaders are good spouses bc superiority complex.

22: Most pointless war in your opinion?

All. But King Phillip's War was especially whack.

23: John Wilkes Booth - crazy or crazy with a cause?

I mean of course he had a cause, but it was a bad one and having a cause doesn't make him less crazy. He was...really yikes.

24: Why do you think Lee Harvey Oswald killed JFK and did he act alone?

Most certainly did not act alone. But I feel based on timeline of events and maps of the area that either he was paid off either by our own government or the Soviets, or one of the two set him up as a patsy. Then Jack Ruby was paid to cover up the tracks.

25: Opinion on assassinations of leaders in general?

Same as killing anyone else, I guess, murder is bad, and I don't think that's really the route that should be taken to remove dangerous parties from power. But in some cases it may be the only way of removing them, and, well, that is what it is.

26: Do you think we're going to repeat history because we haven't learned from it?

Always. It is constantly happening. There is nothing new.

27: Have you ever been teased for being a history nerd?

hahahahahahahahaha yeah. Ever since first grade.

28: Which historical figure do you think has been subject to the most fictionalization and elevated to a godlike status nowadays?

Due to the musical, Alexander Hamilton (me.) People need to realize that I wasn't perfect but also not evil. Just human.

29: Rant about your favorite topic?

See the other part of my Lincoln Assassination rant here

30: Favorite kids/teens history books?

The Dear America series and the Liberty's Kids novelizations are WHERE ITS AT.

31: How was your interest in history started?

I don't even know exactly when or how anymore. My mom's a book nerd and an archaeology/anthropology major, so I grew up in a house chock full of books, including history books. I've loved it ever since I could read, honestly.

32: Do you know a history professor?

I do not!

33: How did your favorite history teacher structure their class?

I was homeschooled so it was my mom. She made sure we covered every period, but other than that just let me pick out what interested me and what I wanted to read and explore. She read a ton of big historical books right alongside me and we'd discuss as we read. We still do this!

AND THAT'S THE HALFWAY POINT OF THESE. I HAVE TO GET READY FOR AN OVERNIGHT SHIFT AT WORK SOON SO I WILL LEAVE THIS HERE FOR NOW AND REBLOG WITH THE REST OF THEM UPDATED TOMORROW. THANK YOU SO MUCH.

[whumphoarder]

D is for Diploma

Summary: Between all of his commitments, Peter’s grades start slipping, putting him in danger of losing his academic scholarship to Midtown. Stressed and guilt-ridden about the effect this will have on May’s finances, he ends up worrying himself sick and having a breakdown in Tony’s lab.

Word count: 3,759

Genre: emotional hurt/comfort, angst, hurt/comfort

A/N: Thanks so much to @xxx-cat-xxx and @sallyidss for beta reading and encouragement <3

Link to read on Ao3

“But how are you getting a C in gym class?” Ned balks at his friend. He’s peering over Peter’s shoulder as he scrolls through his quarterly grades on the school library computer. “Everyone gets an A. I’m getting an A. All you gotta do is show up and at least look like you’re trying and boom, automatic A.”

Peter rubs a hand at the back of his neck sheepishly. “So, remember after the Rhino dude attacked me, how I had all those bruises that didn’t heal right away?”

“Yeah...” Ned recalls, frowning. “But you said they didn’t hurt.”

“They didn’t! Not really, anyway,” Peter says quickly. “But like, I didn’t really want everyone to see that, so I kinda didn’t change into my uniform. And apparently if you don’t change, Wilson just marks you as absent.”

“Ah.” Ned gives him a sympathetic wince. “Yeah, that’s lame.”

“What I don’t understand,” MJ pipes up, glancing up from the book she’s had her nose in all afternoon, “is the D in Spanish. Rodríguez isn’t even a hard teacher.”

Peter’s face flushes with embarrassment. “So… I might have forgotten to submit a couple assignments.”

She quirks an eyebrow. “You forgot? He reminds us what’s due, like, three times every class period.”

“I mean, it was just the take-home quiz...” he mumbles. “And some of the homework sheets. Oh, and that cultural essay thing about the ancient Mayans.”

“Peter.” She blinks at him. “That was like, twenty percent of our grade.”

“Well, to be fair, I did have a concussion,” he defends. “It was a little hard to remember stuff that week.”

Ned rolls his eyes. “Oh yeah, that makes it so much better.”

Peter huffs out a laugh. Honestly, between all the hours he’s been logging lately as Spider-Man, his frequent internship nights with Tony in the lab, the increasingly demanding decathlon practice schedule as their team moves toward regionals, and the weekend shifts he’s started picking up at Delmar’s (because, let’s face it, the vigilante life isn’t the most lucrative career path—the occasional free churro notwithstanding), Peter thinks he’s been doing quite well juggling everything. Sure, his grades aren’t quite the neat row of A’s and the occasional B he’s grown accustomed to throughout his school career, but it’s not like he’s failing anything.

“I’ve just got different priorities now,” Peter says with a shrug. “I still show up and I’m passing all my classes, so what does the grade matter?”

MJ returns the shrug, looking vaguely impressed with him. “It doesn’t really. I’ve always been morally opposed to using arbitrary numerical values as a measure of academic success.” She shifts her gaze back to her novel before adding, offhandedly, “But you gotta admit, the tuition break is nice.”

And in those nine little words, she might as well have punched him in the gut.

“Oh shit,” Peter breathes out. Hurriedly, he starts gathering books together and getting to his feet.

“What?” Ned asks, looking puzzled.

“Um, I gotta go,” he blurts. And then before anyone can say another word, he’s out of the library doors.

X

The Parkers aren’t poor, exactly.

May works full-time at her job as a neonatal nurse, besides picking up extra shifts one or two nights a month to give them a bit of cushion. Between her wages and the social security checks that come every month from Ben’s pension, the two of them get by. Sure, Peter might not have name-brand clothes or the coolest tech or even a pair of gym shoes without a bit of duct tape on the soles, but there’s always been food on the table and a roof over his head, so Peter’s never stressed that much about their financial situation.

Maybe that’s how he managed to completely forget about his academic scholarship.

He’s qualified for it ever since he passed Midtown’s entrance exams in the top tenth percentile back in eighth grade. The money is substantial—slightly over two-thirds of the tuition cost is paid for him—and the scholarship automatically renews every semester provided he maintains a grade point average of 3.3 or higher, which has never been a problem for him.

That is, up until now. Factoring in his B in history, the C’s in gym and trig, and his D in Spanish, his GPA is currently sitting at 2.9.

Peter is going to lose his scholarship.

X

With less than two weeks left before finals, Peter starts cramming in all the studying he can manage. He stays up late, pouring over his trigonometry notes, trying to work his way through all the practice problems he’s been slacking on. He makes a point of showing up three minutes early to gym class every day, even if he has to use a bit of his enhanced speed to get all the way there from the chem labs on the other side of the building. On the train, he quizzes himself on the names of historical figures and the dates of battles long-since fought. Some of his teachers are willing to work with him, letting him turn in late assignments for partial credit or giving him additional projects to complete.

And then there’s Spanish.

“Isn’t there some kind of extra credit project I can do?” Peter begs. “Anything?”

It’s his study hall period and he’s at Señor Rodríguez’s desk for the second day in a row, desperately hoping for anything that could give his grade the boost it needs.

“I’m sorry, Peter,” his teacher says, sounding genuinely regretful. “But you’ve had countless opportunities this semester to get your grade up via homework and test retakes, all of which you neglected to take advantage of. Coming to me with less than ten days left in the semester requesting make up work for assignments worth significant percentages of your grade is simply too little, too late.”

“But… I had a concussion that week,” Peter argues. “Like, right when it was all due. And I would have done the work before, but…” He trails off, unable to finish his sentence without explaining his unorthodox extracurriculars. “I...I was busy,” he concludes weakly.

Rodríguez raises an eyebrow a little skeptically. “I didn’t receive any notes from the nurse’s office about this concussion.”

Peter glances down to his feet. “Well, that’s because she didn’t know, exactly…”

No one did—not even May. After getting all those bruises the week before, Peter didn’t want anyone to know he was hurt again so soon. Apparently Karen hadn’t deemed the blow to the head he took severe enough to override his wishes. He’d just dealt with the headaches and brain fog the best he could and sort of floated through that week on his own. In hindsight, maybe not his best plan.

“Well, I guess this is a good life lesson for you then, Peter,” Rodríguez says. His voice is firm, but not unkind. “Part of growing up is taking responsibility and learning to communicate with authority figures before you get into trouble.”

“Right, and I get that,” Peter babbles, “I just—”

His teacher holds up a finger, quieting him. “My job is to train my students for success in the real world, and sometimes that means reminding you that actions have consequences. ¿Lo entiendes?”

And Peter finds himself nodding. Because, despite the pool of dread growing in his gut, he does understand. He wants to be mad, wants to say it’s unfair and the universe gave him a raw deal and he doesn’t deserve this. But he can’t. Rodríguez is right.

And Peter’s still fucked.

X

By the time Friday rolls around, Peter’s barely functioning. Besides all the extra assignments and studying for finals, he’s had three days in a row of Decathlon practices, followed by some particularly eventful evening patrols that all went quite a bit later than his usual curfew of ten p.m.

He can’t get much of his lunch down today, which does nothing to appease his friends’ concerned looks. The food seems tasteless in his mouth and he’s so tired he nearly nods off into his cafeteria chicken nuggets.

When school finally lets out, he’s surprised and a little disheartened to see the sleek black car waiting for him in the bus circle. He’d totally forgotten it was an internship weekend.

Figures.

X

Peter groans as he disconnects the circuits he just switched out. He’s been trying to fix a bug in his suit’s heater upgrade for the last twenty minutes now, but nothing he attempts is working and his head is throbbing so much that his vision is hazy.

“Just try again, kid,” Tony encourages absently from across the workshop. He’s not looking up, fully engrossed as he is in his own project. “You got this.”

“Yeah...” Peter mutters under his breath. Blinking a few times, he rubs a hand at his eyes to try to clear his vision.

He connects a different wire. That one doesn’t yield any better results, so he unplugs it and tries again. Then again. Then again. He’s fairly sure he’s already tried the next combination, but he’s so tired he can’t remember so he does it again just to be sure. Nothing.

Peter is so frustrated now that his hands are actually shaking. He pauses and takes a deep breath before trying again.

This time, the wire sparks at him.

“I can’t do this!” Peter exclaims, shoving the suit away from him across the table. “I can’t do anything! Why am I so fucking stupid?!”

He’s breathing heavily now, tears clouding his vision even further. Within a few seconds he feels Tony’s hand rest heavily on his shoulder. It should be comforting, but it only makes Peter feel pathetic.

“C’mon, just take a deep breath and—”

“No!” Peter blurts, shaking away from Tony’s grip. “That’s not going to fix anything! I can’t fix this—don’t you see?!”

Stepping backwards, Tony holds his hands up in front of his chest, keeping his expression perfectly neutral. “Okay…” he says carefully. “I think you might need a break.”

Tears prick at Peter’s eyes and he instantly regrets snapping at his mentor. “No, no, I didn’t mean that! I’m s-sorry, ’m fine…” he says. It would probably sound a lot more convincing if his breath would stop hitching.

Tony lifts an eyebrow. “Yeah, no, I’m pulling rank here,” he declares. “It’s break time.”

“No!” Peter protests. His hands fumble back on the table for the wires.  “I gotta finish it! It’s so close, it’s just—” He cuts himself off as the images of the suit swim before his eyes, his head throbbing. “I, I need to finish…” he concludes lamely.

“Peter, just stop,” Tony says with an exasperated sigh. “You’re no good like this.”

Somehow, those words are the catalyst. Peter feels every emotion he’s been bottling up for the past week erupt inside of him. His breath hitches and his head pulses. “I, I know I’m not,” he manages to say, “but that’s why I gotta… gotta finish, then maybe—”

“Jesus, kid,” Tony breathes out. “That’s not what I meant at all. I was just saying—”

Peter cuts him off. “No, I… I know…” Tears are sliding down Peter’s cheeks now. He runs a hand through his hair, shoulders shaking. “’M sorry.”

Tony’s eyes are a mixture of concern and confusion. “Whoa, hey, what’s going on here?” Tugging the edge of his sleeve over his thumb, Tony uses it to wipe a few of the tears off his cheeks. “Talk to me.”

Honestly, Peter doesn’t even know where to begin. The frustration of his current project, the lack of sleep, his grades, the scholarship…

“I just… I-I have a headache.”

Peter doesn’t know why he says it—the pressure in his skull doesn’t even rank very high on his list of concerns at the moment, yet the simple physicality of it somehow makes it the easiest thing to admit. He rubs the back of his hand at his eyes, but his vision is still so blurry. “Can’t really see straight…”

Tony’s brows knit together. “Is it a migraine?”

“N-No,” Peter says between choked sobs. “Or... I don’t know, I don’t th-think so?” Despite never having had a migraine, he’s pretty sure that’s not what this is. The pain isn’t anything exceptional—it’s just that he can’t seem to stop crying and he’s so fucking tired.

“Either way, I think you’ll feel better once you’ve got a couple painkillers in you,” Tony reasons. “C’mon, let’s get you sorted out.”

Peter shakes his head in weak protest. “No, ’s’okay... “

“Nope,” Tony says, his voice a little more firm. “Trust me on this, you don’t want to work in a lab right now. It’s bright, and loud, and honestly, you’re a bit of a safety hazard at the moment.”

To Peter’s horror, a fresh wave of emotion comes over him and he finds himself properly crying now, his frame wracking with each sob.

“Okay, okay, alright…” Tony murmurs, and Peter feels a hand awkwardly patting him on the back.

It’s all so idiotic, Peter decides, standing in Tony’s lab, crying over things that are completely his own fault and a headache that isn’t even that bad.

“You’re okay, kid,” Tony whispers. “Just breathe.”

As Peter struggles to pull himself together, he feels the hand switch to rubbing circles on his back. It moves up to the back of his neck, but halts as soon as Tony’s fingers touch Peter’s bare skin.

Tony frowns. “Do you have a fever?”

“Wh-What?” Peter’s throat is thick.

“You’re really warm,” Tony explains. He flips his hand around to press the back of his fingers to Peter’s skin, first on his neck, then on his cheek. “Yeah. FRIDAY, can we get a read on that?”

“100.7, boss,” she supplies.

Tony hums a bit. “Yeah, that’s about what I thought…”

Peter doesn’t get it. “B-But I’m not sick,” he protests. “Just—”

“Exhausted,” Tony finishes for him. “When’s the last time you had a full night’s sleep?”

Sniffling, Peter gives a non-committal shrug.

“Yeah, that’s not good, kid,” Tony huffs. “Take it from a guy who has a bit of experience in this area—not sleeping enough will seriously mess you up.”

With a hand on Peter’s back, Tony starts gently ushering the kid out of the lab. Peter doesn’t even bother protesting anymore as he shuffles along, his lip quivering. He figures he’s caused enough trouble today.

Tony deposits him onto the couch in the living room and Peter immediately curls up against the arm rest, squeezing his eyelids shut in an effort not to think about what a fool he’s making of himself in front of his mentor. It doesn’t help much.

“You just chill out for a minute here, okay?” Tony says quietly, draping a blanket over Peter. “I’m gonna get you some meds.”

Peter nods and Tony gives his shoulder a final squeeze before stepping out.

The second he’s alone, the tears start streaming down again, hot and silent and totally uncontrollable. If he’s not working in the lab, then he really should be studying for these stupid finals, but he can’t bring himself to pull out his flash cards. He doesn’t think he can rest—not with so much hanging over his head—but he can’t work either. Tony was right; he’s just no good right now.

When Tony reenters with painkillers and a glass of water, he doesn’t say anything about how Peter is hurriedly sitting up and scrubbing his face with his hands in a pointless attempt to pull himself together. He just presses two pills into Peter’s palm.

Looking down at the painkillers in his shaking hand, Peter’s stomach twists and he’s suddenly not so sure they’ll be able to stay down. “I can’t. I feel sick,” he admits in a whisper.

With a quiet sigh, Tony perches himself on the edge of the sofa, right beside Peter’s tucked knees. “I think you’re just tired, kiddo. Sometimes that makes you feel a little sick.”

Peter doesn’t say anything so Tony passes him the glass of water. “Here. Humor me,” he says. “If I’m wrong, I’ll pay for the dry cleaning.”

It’s a stupid joke, but the corners of Peter’s lips twitch anyway. “Okay,” he croaks.

Peter slips the pills into his mouth and swallows them down with a sip of water. He’s queasy, but it’s not too bad. He goes to set the cup back down on the coffee table, but his mentor shakes his head.

“Drink the whole thing,” Tony instructs.

Peter obeys. It takes him a couple of minutes, but he manages to get the entire cup down and feels just the smallest bit better for it.

Tony takes the empty glass from his hand and sets it on the table. “Think you can sleep now?”

Peter just shrugs. He wants to—god, he wants to—but he doesn’t deserve it. Not when this is all his own damn fault. His voice is barely a whisper when he speaks again:

“I think I really messed up, Mr. Stark.”

X

Over the next ten minutes, it all comes tumbling out: the job at Delmar’s, the decathlon requirements, the late patrols, his slipping grades, his scholarship, everything.

“I just… I don’t want to change schools,” Peter concludes softly. “I like Midtown. It was the first place I really felt like… well, like I fit in.”

Tony’s been quiet for the whole time Peter was speaking, but now his brow furrows. “Why would you need to quit Midtown?”

Peter blinks at him; isn’t it obvious? “Because the full tuition is eight thousand dollars a semester. Without the scholarship…” he trails off. “I just can’t do that to May.”

A look of relief spreads across Tony’s face. “Is that all? That’s the whole issue?” He huffs out an amused breath. “Done. Consider it paid. Problem solved.”

Peter feels his cheeks flush. He shakes his head frantically. “No, no, I didn’t mean that you should pay! Please don’t do that!”

Now it’s Tony’s turn to blink at him. “Peter. I am a multi-billionaire. Do you have any idea what eight thousand dollars is to me?”

“But you shouldn’t have t—”

“Peanuts,” Tony cuts him off. “I’ve spent more on peanuts than that.”

“But—”

“And by that I mean actual, honest-to-god peanuts,” Tony continues over the kid’s protests. “There’s this company in Peru that slow-roasts them for twenty-one days in a secret spice blend. Happy’s obsessed with ‘em—says they’re god’s gift to mankind. So, for Christmas one year—”

“You can’t pay my tuition!” Peter blurts out.

Tony stops his story abruptly. His eyes narrow at Peter. “And why exactly is that?”

“Because…” Running a hand through his hair, Peter draws in a shuddery breath. “Because… If anyone should pay, it’s me. I-I’m the one who fucked up and lost the stupid scholarship. I should be the one responsible for fixing this.”

“But you can’t fix it,” Tony says bluntly.

Peter’s caught off-guard. “Wh-What? N-No, I just need to get my grades up, and, and…”

Tony’s voice is gentler now. “You can’t, Peter. You can’t get a 2.9 up to a 3.3 by next week, no matter how well you do on your exams. You’ve gotta know that.”

(Peter does know. He’s known for days. He’s always been good at math, after all.)

“So you can’t keep going on like this, trying to make up for what happened,” Tony concludes.

Tears prick at the corners of Peter’s eyes once more. He’s determined not to let them fall this time. “But I deserve it…” he whispers.

Tony shrugs. “If we always got what we deserved, I never would have made it through the 90s.” He huffs out a short laugh. “At least nobody has to bail you out of prison. Same can’t be said for all of us.”

In spite of Peter’s earlier resolve, the traitorous tears slip out anyway. He wonders how he has any left.

Tony sobers a bit. “You’re a good kid, Pete,” he says quietly. “But you’re trying to carry the whole world on your shoulders and that’s enough to break anyone. It’s okay to ask for help sometimes. Even if you fucked up.”

Peter swallows hard. “Okay.”

“So let’s try this again,” Tony says. He makes eye contact with Peter. “What do you need, kid?”

“Right now?” Peter exhales deeply. “I dunno. A nap?”

Tony smirks slightly. “I think we can manage that.”

X

Peter makes it through finals.

All his extra effort and studying does yield some results. His gym grade increases to a B after Coach Wilson grades his two-page extra credit report on the rules of badminton. The trig final is rough, but he pulls in another couple points there, and the art teacher accepts a few late sketches from the unit on perspectivism. With the help of the final exam, he even manages to eek out a C- in Spanish.

When it’s all said and done, Peter’s GPA sits at 3.1.

“That wasn’t easy to do. I’m proud of you, Peter,” May says sincerely. “You know that, right?”

Peter shrugs. “I guess so.”

They’re sitting together at the apartment’s small kitchen table, May’s open laptop in front of them with all of Peter’s end of semester grades displayed. Peter’s eyes drift down from the screen to the table where a check for eight thousand dollars signed by Tony Stark himself is staring back at him. He sighs.

May plants a quick kiss on the top of her nephew’s head. “Well, I know so. So for now, I’ll just know it for the both of us.”

Peter strokes his fingers over the crisp paper of the check. Besides covering tuition, Tony has now upgraded Peter’s unofficial SI internship to a paid position—something he says he should have done long ago, given how much time Peter spends working in the lab—and that will allow him to give Mr. Delmar his two-week notice.

He knows he should be grateful, but honestly, it’s going to take him some time to wrap his head around the concept of being taken care of like this.

Getting up from the table, May moves over to retrieve a small paper bag from the counter. “That reminds me—Mr. Stark told me to give you this.” She tosses the bag to Peter, who catches it easily.

Curiously, he opens it. He’s immediately hit with the aroma of exotic spices and roasted legumes. Peter can’t help but grin.

A note inside the bag reads: Enjoy your peanuts, kid.

A/N: If you enjoyed this story, you might also like: 

Viral Wisdom

Go Down Swinging

A Pressing Emergency

Fic Masterlist

[whitehotharlots]

Liberal cruelty has consquences

This semester is winding down. As I am desperate to avoid grading student papers, I’ve spent the morning reading longish-form online articles. I just came across one that I feel very conflicted about. The online reaction to it as been troubling. So I don’t know if I have anything particularly coherent to say, but I’d like to talk about it.

The anonymously written piece is titled “What Happened After My 13-Year-Old Son Joined the Alt Right.”  It documents a young man’s journey from a garden variety, liberal-leaning goon to a frothing neo nazi mutant.

The piece is understandably sympathetic, seeing as it was written by the boy’s parent. The writer’s whiny and heavy handed tone caused me, and most of my e-pals, to dismiss it. If anything, the essay showcases an immense failure of parenting. If my child were to ask me to take him or her to a “Traditional American Culture” rally, I would slap the everloving shit of them. Lord knows how many times the kid’s parents had dropped the ball before it ever got to that point.

But then I re-read the start of the article, in which the parent identifies the trigger point for their son’s downward slide:

One morning during first period, a male friend of Sam’s mentioned a meme whose suggestive name was an inside joke between the two of them. Sam laughed. A girl at the table overheard their private conversation, misconstrued it as a sexual reference, and reported it as sexual harassment. Sam’s guidance counselor pulled him out of his next class and accused him of “breaking the law.” Before long, he was in the office of a male administrator who informed him that the exchange was “illegal,” hinted that the police were coming, and delivered him into the custody of the school’s resource officer. At the administrator’s instruction, that man ushered Sam into an empty room, handed him a blank sheet of paper, and instructed him to write a “statement of guilt.”

No one called me as this unfolded, even though Sam cried for about six hours straight as staff members parked him in vacant offices to keep him away from other students. When he stepped off the bus that afternoon and I asked why his eyes were so swollen, he informed me that he would probably be suspended, but possibly also expelled and arrested.

If Kafka were a middle-schooler today, this is the nightmare novel he would have written.

At a meeting two days later with my husband, Sam, and me, the administrator piled more accusations on top of the harassment charge—even implying, with undisguised hostility, that Sam and his friend were gay. He waved in front of us a statement from the girl at the table and insisted that Sam would need to defend himself against her claims if he wanted to prove his innocence. But the administrator refused to reveal the particulars of the complaint (he had also blacked out identifying details, FBI-style) and then hid the paperwork under a book. He declared that it was his primary duty, as a school official and as a father of daughters, to believe and to protect the girls under his care.

Eck… who edited this? It would have worked so much better without a fucking Kafka reference.

So, maybe it was the tone. I dunno. But most readers seem to regard this section as exaggerated, possibly fabricated.  The takeaway was “boo hoo, the nazi kid got punished for sexually harassing  a girl.” Heck: If a reader is truly dedicated to the #BelieveAllWomen mantra, then this description doesn’t warrant sympathy even if it’s entirely true. The kid said something that upset the girl. It wasn’t directed to her and it wasn’t about her. But still, he upset her, and she’s a girl, so he is bad and deserved whatever punishment was doled out to him.

And this got me thinking about my experiences in high school, as a student in the late 90s and a teacher in the mid-aughts. Administrators seemed to always be adopting some or other policy of harsh punishment for bad behavior: zero tolerance toward weapons, drugs, hats, disrespectful posture, electronic devices, swearing, Simpsons t-shirts, and mentally unhygenic reading materials. During dances and social gatherings, my middle school allowed students to bring in CDs from home. That was a decent policy, but anyone who attempted to play a “hip hop” track would receive an immediate suspension for “endorsing violence,” regardless of the track’s lyrical content. My high school adopted a firm anti-bullying policy, but once a boy came to school wearing a gothic dress as some kind of vague transgressive statement, and two separate male teachers called him a fag--out in the open, in front of everybody, as part of the official business of teaching.

Once, in 8th grade, two kids were caught taking over-the-counter caffeine pills. They didn’t get sick or anything; a girl saw them and she narced. They were arrested by the school resource officer, taken in a cop car to the hospital to have their stomachs pumped, and then summarily expelled, their young lives effectively ruined over 50 milligrams of a safe and legal stimulant. At an emergency assembly held the next day, the frog-faced principal croaked out a dire warning that the use of such drugs was strictly forbidden and we would all be subjected to the same fate, should we attempt to sneak in any No Doz. As he issued his stern warning, he slurped gluttonously from a 22-ounce mug of gas station coffee.

The point is, zero tolerance never really means zero tolerance. Rules are always--always, literally always, without exception in the whole of human history--enforced arbitrarily. Harsh policies rarely make anyone safer. They are employed instead to further humiliate and brutalize those who have already been rejected by the system. In my last two paragraphs, I cited the dumbest and most conspicuous examples of arbitrary cruelty that happened to pop into my head. This doesn’t cover the everyday, petty cruelties that teachers and administrators would exact upon kids they simply didn’t like. Without exception, these were the kids who were already marginalized: effeminate boys, masculine but unathletic girls, kids who dressed poorly, kids who spoke with accents, black kids, kids with learning disabilities or behavioral problems. These kids would be given detentions or even suspensions for minor infractions--looking away from the chalkboard, slouching, sneaking in candy, laughing at importune times, etc. It wasn’t the teacher’s fault, of course: zero tolerance and all that. But, strangely, the zero tolerance policies never seemed to apply to the popular, athletic, and/or well-connected kids. If Suzie Creamcheese was caught sneaking some Starburst during Algebra--well, she’s probably hungry, seeing as she works so hard. If Raul, Roofus, or Sheena were caught doing the same? God help them.

Some teachers were nicer than others, of course. Some were downright supportive. Others were simply evil. There was one, when I was in 7th grade, who was particularly repulsive and cruel--no kidding, his admiration of Rush Limbaugh was formative in my early-adopted hatred of American conservatives. He had matted red hair and teeth like a cracked picket fence and would wear a leather jacket out to lunch. Anyhow, he would prattle on about his hatred of kids who “Just. Refuse. To. Learn.” These kids were almost always black. Pure coincidence, I’m sure. He’d make a show of tossing them out of class--sometimes physically--for infractions as minor as getting an answer wrong when called upon. One time, a twitchy white kid who wore the same t-shirt every day called him out: It’s unfair, he said, that I’m getting thrown out of class for getting an answer wrong, when right before me another kid got several chances to respond.

The teacher turned beet red. He got on his knees and put his face two inches in front of the twitchy kid’s eyes. 

“I’m not throwing you out because you got the answer wrong,” he explained. “I’m throwing you out because you are you.”

Again, these are the conspicuous examples. The everyday stuff is harder to describe twenty-five years after it happened.  Most people were not brutalized and they didn’t have a single moment that ruined their life, but they were still exposed to a deeply unfair and cruel system, and such exposure naturally engenders feelings of betrayal, hopelessness, and anger.

Here’s my story--it’s particularly stupid. 9th grade. One day,  I walked into Spanish class, and the large woman who teaches in that classroom before my section grabbed me by the collar, physically lifted me out of my chair, and shoved her moist biscuit of a hand into my face. “What is this,” she demanded.

This was all very sudden. I could see nothing but her hand, which had a distinct fecal aroma.

“I don’t know,” I said.

She removed her hand. I looked down toward desk. She stood silently. I had no fucking idea what she was talking about.

“You’re gonna tell me what you did, right now, or I’m gonna double the detentions.”

I was still silent. Seriously, no idea what was going on. This enraged her. She began to count upward, starting at 3 detentions and stopping at 10, by which point tears were welling up and my face was flushed. I said I seriously did not know. She pointed to a small pentagram someone had engraved into the desktop. The desks, by the way, were movable. Anyone could have done it. She blamed me because she didn’t like me. I served 10 detentions and had to pay over a hundred dollars (a shitload of money for a 13-year-old) to get the desk refinished.

This isn't the end of the world, obviously. But it really, oddly broke me. Before, I had thought that so long as I did was I supposed to and didn’t break any rules, I’d be okay. Now I realized that was bullshit, that any vindictive cunt with a few ounces of power could punish me for any reason, at any time, and I wouldn’t be allowed to mount a defense. That’s the sort of thing that fucks with a kid’s head.  I mean, christ--it’s 23 years later and I’m still kinda pissed about it. I hope that woman is dead.

I regained a sense of control by stealing books from the woman’s classroom. A few times a week, I would grab a textbook when I came in, use it during class, and walk out with it. At the end of the school year, some friends and I burned them in a glorious bonfire along the banks of the Mississippi.

My response was petty and destructive, but I don’t feel any pengs of guilt or shame in remembering it. I had to do something to reassert agency, to feel like I had some control, and I managed to find a way to go about doing it that didn’t hurt anybody or get me into trouble. Regardless of the morality of my particular response, we can agree that kids are now much more surveilled than they were 20-odd years ago, and that minor mischief is now much more harshly criminalized. If a kid finds themself on the outs within their school, there’s really no way they can push back. Their only available avenue of asserting control over their lives is to wander into welcoming communities elsewhere…

One more anecdote then I’m done….

My sister was in high school during 9/11. The attacks were on a Tuesday, and the whole rest of the week was assemblies and talking circles and other such activities meant to assuage fear and gin up the hatred of the dirty brown bastards that done this. Two of my sister’s friends, older boys, were the sort of kids who read Howard Zinn and listened to Jello Biafra’s spoken word records. During one meeting, they expressed exasperation at a girl who was sobbing because she just, like, didn’t know why anyone would do that. The boys certainly didn’t approve of the attacks, but they tried to explain the whole concept of the US being an unhinged and murderous imperial power that had done much worse stuff all over the globe. The audience gasped. The boys were hauled into the principal’s office. They were charged with verbally assaulting the crying girl. One was suspended. The other expelled.

So, I dunno… go ahead. If you think due process is evil, that all victimhood claims are valid and should be taken at face value, and that kids of lesser social status should be demonized and made into criminals for upsetting members of the fair sex, then you do you. That’s fine if that’s what you believe. But please don’t be so naive as to think that the bulk of these newly criminalized behaviors are going to actually be malignant, or that the genuinely malignant behaviors of secure kids will be curbed in any way. Please respect yourself enough to realize that school admins aren’t magic sages with mature moral compasses--a plurality of them were business majors in college, for fuck’s sake. And most importantly, don’t be surprised if the kids you dismiss wind up doing some crazy or awful shit in response.

[honest-tree]

Shinso Hitoshi x fem!Reader~ Pretty Kitty

A/N: Ok, I have never written anything but this just came into my head and I had to get it out there or it would just rot in my head.

Warnings: cussing, and like idk what to call it but someone thought they were doing the dirty

Words: 915

Shinso borrows your phone to look something up and sees your search history...

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxox

You and Shinso were hanging out in the common room studying for an upcoming test when Shinso’s phone died

He asked you if he could borrow yours to look up a question he had on the homework, you didn’t even look up you just handed it to him

He thanked you and pressed the button to turn it on. He was surprised to see that you didn’t even have a password

you really were a little too trusting

he went to the search engine to look up his question and noticed all the previous searches underneath

“pet shelters near me”

“What to do with a stray cat”

“how to hide a cat in your dorm”

“nearest pet supply stores”

“good cat names”

“where to get a cat vaccinated” 

his eyes widened

were you hiding a cat in your dorm???

he never would have expected you of all people to go against the rules like that. he often would tease you for how much you love to follow the rules

it sounded like something he would have done. he wondered how he didn’t think of it first

and you hadn’t been caught yet

he was low-key proud

he had to see it. You knew how much he loved cats. he was a little hurt you hadn’t told him

“Hey Y/n...”

“yeah”

“Do you have a cat in your room?”

He saw you freeze up at the question and then smirked as you tried to cover it up

“What do you mean? Cats aren’t allowed in the dorms.”

He put your phone with the search history up in front of your face

“Shiiiiit” your eyes went w I d e and he could just see the gears in your brain turning as you tried to figure out how to get out of the situation

“Please don’t tell Aisawa-sensei! She was just too cute and it was freezing out and I couldn’t just leave her there but I couldn’t find any pet rescues near here so I snuck her into my room but she grew on me! I don’t want to get rid of her-”

Shinso laughed. you were just too cute when you got flustered

“I’m not gonna turn you in. Can you show me?”

your face lit up with relief once you realized he wasn’t going to make you get rid of your new friend

“Sure!”

the two of you gathered your stuff and started to head up to your room so you could show him your new kitty

because boys aren’t allowed in the girl's room you two had to sneak in, trying your hardest not to get seen by any of your teachers or classmates

when you finally made it and unlocked your door you were greeted with a small “Mrow” as your cat got up from your bed

you went to the bed as shinso closed the door behind him and picked up the cat

you brought her over to shinso

“her name’s Misty”

Shinso looked at you in confusion. the cat was black why would you call a black cat ‘misty’

you handed Misty to him and she immediately cuddled up to him

“Why’d you call her ‘misty’? Isn’t that what you normally call grey cats?”

you laughed a little and explained that when you found her she had little grey patches that by her ears that made you think of mist on a dark night

Misty loved the attention she was getting from shinso he kept petting her behind her ears and under her chin

shinso thought she was just the cutest thing out there. oh, and he thought the cat was pretty cute too

---------

Aizawa was grading papers at his desk when he got a call from campus security notifying him that two of his students were sneaking alone into a room

He honestly didn’t care what the hell the students were doing in their personal lives but there were rules and he had to enforce them

he made his way to the dorms already getting pissed that he would have to stay even later to finish even more paperwork because to students couldn’t keep it in their pants

he wasn’t all that surprised that it was Shinso and Y/n that were getting it on

he had been around Shinso enough to have figured out how he felt about her. he was a little proud that he was getting some but couldn’t they be a little better at hiding it?

he finally reached y/n’s room and used his master key to open the door

“The hell are you two doi-.....” Once he fully opened the door he was surprised to see it was just the two of them sitting on the floor playing with a small black cat.

The two of them stared up at him obviously scared he would make them get rid of the cat

He walked forward and kneeled down in front of the little thing and started to pet her tummy “What’s its name?”

Y/n and Shinso were dumbfounded

finally, Y/n responded “M-misty. Her names Misty”

Aizawa stood up and started walking to the door

before he left the room he said to Shinso, “Next time you come to visit the cat try not to look like you’re trying to fuck Y/n” and left the two blushing teens with the cat purring for attention

needless to say, you and Shinso had a little trouble looking at each other for a few minutes after that

[fanficsaremylifeline]

I’ve got homework...

For the fantastic @fictional-worlds-are-exquisite, who prompted this story :)

It’s on AO3 too:

https://archiveofourown.org/works/22450930

***

“Hi Mr Stark!” With an excited grin, Peter skipped into the workshop, and, after throwing his backpack into the corner, he turned to Tony. “How are you doing?”

“I'm good”, he smiled. “And you?”

“Me too, thanks.” Peter sat on the table, letting his feet dangle. “You remember that robot we made last week? You know, the one for physics class?”

“Yeah, I remember.”

“No big deal, but I got an A for it”, the kid smiled, and blushed  pinkish in pride.

“Wow”, Tony nodded, “that's something...”

“No need to be impressed or anything”, Peter grumbled as he crossed his arms and the blush was substituted with creased eyebrows.

Tony walked up to the kid, trying to bite down his grin. “I mean, it's not like you did it all by yourself...”

“Well, Mr Stark, I'm very grateful for your materials and your time and your assistance, but...”

“Assistance?”, Tony snorted. “I ain't nobody's assistant.”

Peter just looked at him and gave an exaggerated and exasperated sigh. “Yes, sir.”

They held the stare for a moment or two, before Tony burst out with laughter and put his arm around Peter's shoulders. “Good job, I'm really proud of you. All the planning and shit, that was you. And, even though it might pain me to admit it, but it's not like you really needed my help for it, did ya?”

With a meek grin Peter looked up and just shrugged.

“Yeah, thought so”, Tony chuckled and gave his shoulders another squeeze. “Change of topic, though. And please, just stay calm, don't freak or anything, alright?”

“Ok...” The curiosity was written clearly all over Peter's face, and, sitting so close to the boy, Tony could almost feel him vibrating with anticipation. Oh boy, maybe he should put some safety distance between the two of them...

“So, there is a mission...”

“OMIGOD!”, he squealed, definitely a few octaves too high for Tony's liking, and all but jumped up, until he stilled all of a sudden, when remembering Tony's earlier plea. “I'm sorry, Mr Stark”, he remarked after a moment of silence, clearly giving it his all to sound nonchalant. “Please continue.”

“Of course.” In all fondness, Tony couldn't help but shake his head at the excitement; it distinctly reminded him of a little puppy, or a child on Christmas morning. “As I was saying, there is a mission...” Tony decided to ignore the little jump Peter did and the high pitched squeal. “Low-level stuff, a right-wing terrorist group, SHIELD has been monitoring. Swoop in, secure the guys, and done.”

“That sounds very good”, Peter nodded; his forced casual diction was absolutely ridiculous, as was him grabbing so hard onto the table, he actually warped the metal.

“Figured, that's why I thought that you would like to... Oh, shit.”

“What is it?”

Now it was Tony, who had to practice all his restraint and not burst into laughter. “I totally forgot!” Shaking his head, he turned to Peter, who looked all worried about what might have happened. “Sorry, of course you can't come along!”

“What?” And cue the face drop. Wow, this was what a kicked puppy looked like.

“Don't you have homework?” At this remark, Tony couldn't help the smug grin breaking through.

“Wha... You're the worst.” With realization came the creased eyebrows again and a look that could probably kill.

“Peter, your education is important, and I understand if you need to take a step back and...”

“Shut up!”, Peter moaned and boxed Tony's arm. “Nazis are worse than geometry.”

“I know that”, Tony nodded, “but will your teachers understand?” As hard as he tried, Tony couldn't keep up the concerned facade and let the grin shine right through.

It did drop at Peter's counter-measurement, though.

“I'm gonna tell May that you haven't been nice to me.”

“I can't believe you”, Tony grumbled. Playing the woman-Tony-is-afraid-of-card? That was low.

“Thought so”, Peter grinned; that damn shit-eating grin that warmed Tony's heart and made him want to tousle those unruly curls. “So, how about some light engineering, before you brief me on tomorrow's mission?”

***

***

“Hi Pepper!” Before Tony had even realized her walking inside, Peter had already wrapped himself around her in greeting.

“Peter, really good to see you.”

“You too”, he beamed up at her.

“Should I leave you two be?”, Tony deadpanned, seeing that nobody seemed to realize or care that he was there, too.

Peter turned immediately bright-red, let go off Pepper and jumped a bit away.

“Drama Queen”, Pepper rolled her eyes, before smiling at Tony, that perfect, breath-taking smile, that still robbed him of his breath.

“Still said yes”, he beamed back. When that epitome of amazingness stood in front of him, Tony couldn't help it; he somehow was a lovestruck teenager again, who couldn't stop but smile at the wonder that was Pepper.

“Lucky you. Anyways, I was looking for the two of you.”

“What's up, then?”

“Crime Stats. Since you're legally an independent contractor to the Avengers and have therefore no real connection to SHIELD and we're your contact people it's on us to get that information to them.”

“Why?”, Peter asked, “are they trying to keep tabs on me?”

“In a way”, she admitted. “Though the are really mostly interested in the numbers and statistics; for transparency reasons. Those numbers will be published, and passed onto authorities, as was agreed in the Accords.”

“Huh. Alright”, he nodded, “but you can just get all the stats from KAREN.”

“Yeah, I just need a hand to sort through the masses of information, so I can turn her log into an official document, which is why I need you too.” Now she turned to Tony. “He's a minor and as his employer, you're the one to sign.”

“Why not May?”

“Because then we'll reveal a bit too much identity”, Peter explained in her place and locked eyes with Tony. He could see it clearly in Peter's face: he was not in the mood for that right now. And neither was Tony; they were about to head to the lab and work on a spider-suit update. He was just about to shrug at the kid, á la 'guess we'll have to go through this', when something in his look changed to downright mischievous. Even before the boy started to speak, Tony knew he was not gonna like what he was about to say.

“That sounds like just Tony would be enough”, he remarked and turned back to Pepper; the grin gone, instead he shot her his best puppy eyes. “It's just... You know, I have a lot of homework...”

That little shit. Tony knew for a fact that this was not true.

“Oh, of course”, Pepper nodded. “School stuff is more important.”

“You need help with that?”, Tony asked, shooting the kid a look, communicating all the 'you better get me out of this'.

“Nah, I'm good”, Peter grinned. “It's history homework, you know?”

“Oh, yeah, you don't want Tony's help with that.”

“Hey!” He turned to his still perfect fiancée, and even managed a reasonably angered glare. “I am a genius for a reason!”

“Sure you are, honey”, she smiled and patted his shoulder. “Come on, let's get to the crime stats and leave Peter to his homework.”

“Fine...” He followed Pepper out of the room but, just before the door closed, he turned one more time towards the very smug teen, who just waved after Tony.

Oh, he was so gonna get him back...

***

“Hi Mr Stark!”, Peter chirped as he skipped into the kitchen.

“Heya kiddo”, he grinned back and downed the rest of his coffee. “You ready?”

“I hope you are”, Happy answered instead of the boy. “I gotta take you to SHIELD; monthly meeting, remember?”

Shit, now he did. Ugh, Tony'd rather cuddle a cactus that sit in there, listen to Fury and Rogers go on about... Something, probably; Tony never paid attention. And, since that has never caused any issues whatsoever, he didn't really have to go there now, did he?

There was one way though, he might just get out of that.

“I honestly didn't remember, and I already promised Pete to help him with his homework.” He turned to the kid, who didn't quite get what Tony was playing at; understandably, since it had been their original plan to tinker around with Mark XVI. “Didn't you say it was for a grade?”

“Oh yeah”, Peter nodded, catching onto Tony's plan and unpacked the one sure-fire way to get Tony out of having to attend; the mightiest weapon the Avengers could offer: Peter's puppy eyes. “I really need his help to get this right.” For good measure he patted his bag.

“Fine”, Happy groaned, not really trying to fight the puppy eyes, “I'll get Rogers to excuse you.”

“Thank you so much”, Peter beamed, “you just saved my life.”

“Yeah, right”, he grumbled and, after nodding at Tony, he turned and walked out of the kitchen again.

“Thanks, Pete”, Tony smiled, “saved me a world of pain.”

“Not so sure about that...” The skew grin Peter shot him was... Tony wasn't sure.

“Out with it.”

“I do have homework, for a grade and I could do with some help. It's just in English...”

Oh fuck. The puppy eyes Peter had just shot in Happy's direction were now aimed at Tony. And English? Well, Tony knew how to speak it, but other than that... Besides, comparing poems and shit? Who the fuck had time for that?

“Fine. Let me see what you got.”

“Great”, he giggled. “So, it's basically choosing an important happenstance in my life and comparing it to a similar situation from a book. Issue is, most important things in my life are kinda arachnid-powered and I can't write about that, can I? I mean, Batman, right? Watching Uncle Ben being... you know, and then becoming a superhero... But secret identity.”

Peter didn't even give Tony the chance to interject, which he'd like to do, since the kid got more and more morbid.

“Then I thought Hamlet, because you know, my parents, but my Uncle isn't evil, so nope.”

Shit, that was depressing.

“Then I thought Frankenstein?”

“What, engineered superpowers and now everybody wants you dead?”

“Maybe?”

Tony just shook his head, and Peter jumped up with a groan.

“This sucks so much! You know, I could do Alice in Wonderland! But no, it's all top secret.”

“As I take it, you don't have to fit with an entire book.”

“Fine. Then I feel like Bilbo Baggins”, Peter continued. “Just want to be left alone, but no...”

“Come on, now, we're two certified geniuses, we can figure this out. What do you want to write about?” Maybe this way they would get somewhere.

“I mean, I don't want to write about my parents or Uncle Ben, because if I do, I'll be sent to see a shrink again.”

“Which isn't a bad thing...”

“Mr Stark, focus. If I write about getting together with MJ she'll dump me right away, and I don't want that. Then I thought about you know...” He turned away and started to blush. “About... meeting you.”

“Well, it is a world-changing happenstance”, Tony smirked.

“OMIGOD!”, he cried out, “I got it! My Fair Lady!” With an excited grin he beamed at Tony. “Because, well, you, scooping me up from the streets, teaching me the ropes, not the societal ones, but like engineering and shit. And superheroing, too, but again, nothing I can write about.”

“So, you're Eliza Doolittle?”

“Yeah!”

“And I'm Higgins?”

“I mean, sorta...”

“No”, Tony shook his head, “I'm not taking part in that.”

“Come on! It's perfect! And, like you said, I don't have to fit the entire book!”

Damnit, Peter might just have a point with that story. Him, tracking down the kid; Peter over and over showing up, literally nagging  Tony into becoming an official Avenger. And he did learn and work hard to improve. “I guess it fits. So fine. As long as you make it clear that I am not such an asshole towards you as Higgins is towards Eliza.”

“I will speak of you only in the highest reverence”, he grinned and got to his bag, to get out his pen and paper, softly humming: “The rain in Spain stays mainly in the plain...”

Oh, what the hell did Tony get himself into right now? Well, at least it was better than sitting at SHIELD.

***

Tony was spread out on the couch, waiting for Peter to finally pick up.

“Hi, sorry”, he chirped eventually, just before Tony was about to hang up. “Was just changing, couldn't answer.”

“So I don't need to take it personally, good”, he chuckled. “You civilian or vigilante right now?”

“I'm just myself, Peter Parker.”

“Right then, Peter Parker. I had an idea for an upgrade for your other personality, wanna come over and check it out?”

“Uhm, no, sorry, I can't.” All of a sudden, the giggles turned into almost nervous stuttering. “I... I got homework, you know?”

“Oh.” Tony didn't buy that. Not at all. “You sure?”

“Yeah.”

Tony still didn't buy it. “You need help?”

“Nope.”

“Right then.”

“I can come tomorrow, though and we can work on that upgrade then, ok?”

“Sounds great.”

“Perfect. See you!”

“Call ended”, FRI announced.

Huh. Peter was keeping things from Tony now? Yes, 'having homework' was their excuse for every kind of meeting they wanted to avoid, but Peter had never used it on Tony. Should he worry?

Tony could just track Peter's phone and be at where or whatever the kid hid from him. And then Peter would never trust Tony ever again.

Probably it was just some weird nerd stuff with his nerd friends, nothing to worry about. Absolutely nothing. This weird feeling in his stomach? Absolutely nothing that deserved another look at or that needed to be divulged in.

Only question: was Tony worried that the kid was in danger, or was he pissed that the kid kept it from him? Neither of those options were fair to Peter, though; he was old enough to make his own life choices and had every right to keep some things private, after all. If only Tony wasn't so curious...

.

“Hi Mr Stark!”, the kid beamed as he waltzed into the lab the next day with the widest grin on his face.

“Hey Pete.” Tony looked up to see him dance around Dum-E, before hugging Butterfingers and all but jumped over the workstation, landing right in front of Tony. “Wow, you're chipper.”

“Why wouldn't I be? Isn't the world just wonderful?”

“You really had fantastic homework yesterday, didn't you?”, Tony smirked at the teen that immediately turned beet-red.

“Uhm, yeah...”

“Kid, you're allowed to say no to me, you know that, right?” He put his hands on Peter's shoulders who looked up with wide eyes. “If 'having homework' is your way of doing that, I'm cool with it. Just don't feel like you have to lie to me; I can accept a no.”

“You sure?”, he grinned, still blushing, but a lot more cheeky now.

“I am. You wanna get to work then?”

Instead of giving an answer, Peter blurted out: “I was on a date!” He was somewhat embarrassed, somewhat proud, but mostly so damn smitten...

“I assume with Michelle?”, he smiled. The kid barely shut up about the amazingly smart captain of the Academic Decathlon Team, who was so badass and really funny and oh so pretty...

“Yeah”, he cooed and, if it was possible his entire face turned into one giant heart-eye. “We went to the Natural History Museum, they have an exhibition about Murderous Animals, like the serial killers of nature. Like Meerkats for example. They kill each other ten times more than humans kill each other! And like chinchillas, they're on fifth place. That's so weird, because they seem so adorable!”

“And your paramour liked that?”

“She loved it! It was like the perfect surprise.” Now it was pure pride that Peter exuded. “And then we got takeaway and watched the sunset from a roof top and it was so romantic.”

“Sounds absolutely perfect.”

“It was. And I'm sorry I said the homework thing... I just...”

“It's alright. Like I said, you don't have to justify yourself to me. Bigger question, though: Are you too caught in thoughts about your girlfriend or are you able to concentrate on not blowing us up?”

***

Tony thought he knew what pain and torture felt like after Afghanistan. But watching Peter like this, sorrowful and almost heart-broken, managed to top it off once more.

Today's patrol went absolutely disastrous. Tony hadn't managed to get the details out of the kid yet, but what he did gather was that during a bank robbery one civilian, trying to take down a robber, got shot, and that only moments before Peter had the chance to get there.

And now the kid was wrapped in a fuzzy blanket, curled in the corner. All Tony could do was stay close, and he was ready to get or do anything Peter might need from him.

“Hey Tony.” Steve walked up and sat next to Tony on the couch. “How's he doing?”

Tony just shot him a stare á la 'what do you think', but didn't get the chance to say just that.

“He can hear you, you know?”, Peter grumbled from his blanket pile.

“Sorry, kid.”

“Yeah, whatever...”

“What's up?”, Tony turned to the super soldier, who should actually know better than to crowd Peter when he was upset; it had unfortunately happened a few too many times.

“We need his statement.”

The wince coming from the blanket pile was quiet but Tony clearly heard it.

“Seriously Rogers, now?”

“I know, I know. But if we don't get it signed now, we'll be in a lot of trouble with Ross and the Accords.”

Shit. Peter stayed silent, but he balled himself up even more if it was possible. There was no way in hell, Tony was gonna let anybody force Peter to do any official shit.

“Well, first of all, since he's a minor, his signature is useless anyways. And besides... Peter has homework.”

“Homework?” Steve creased his eyebrows, until he got it. “Oh, right”, he nodded, “homework. Yes, that's important, I agree. And yes, since he's not a legally grown-up, my signature should more than suffice. ”

“Thanks.”

Steve nodded, got up and, just before he walked out of the room, the blanket pile moved a little. “Thank you, Mr America.”

“Anytime, Pete.”

***

“Peter, good you're here”, Happy smiled at the bushel of brown curls that peaked out from a bunch of wires.

“What's up?”, he called and only then resurfaced.

“Meeting Room C. In five minutes.”

“Aw, shit”, he groaned.

Tony couldn't blame him, Meeting Room C meant that it was some politic representative from City Hall. And that equalled deathly boredom. Thank the heavens, Tony was no longer responsible for all that.

“Come on”, Happy urged him.

“Sorry, Hap, I can't”, he decided. “I've got homework.”

It was silent for a moment, then Tony burst out laughing. The kid grinned cheekily at Happy, who looked like he just wanted to quit.

“Peter. You're 25, you're no longer in school.”

“Sorry, kiddo”, Tony wheezed, “doesn't work any more.”

“Aw, man”, he moaned but still got up and begrudgingly followed Happy. “This sucks.”

***

“Seriously”, Tony groaned for the umpteenth, “time for bed!”

“No, it's not”, Peter decided, “I'm a grown-up, remember?”

“And I'm almost a grown-up!”, Morgan stated. That she was only 11 didn't seem to matter right now.

“I'm a grown-up, too”, Tony shot back. “And I'm tired, want to sleep and you crazy kids are keeping me up.”

“But Daaaad”, Morgan moaned, “I can't go to bed! I've got homework, and Petey has to help me!”

Oh fucking hell. Morgan and Peter looked up at Tony with the smuggest grins and damnit, Tony was not in the mood to start arguing with them.

“Peter Benjamin Parker. I thought that joke died with your graduation.”

“Clearly not”, he shot back.

“Right then.” The quickest and easiest way was just to play along. “Homework, and then bed.” He sat himself at the table and looked expectantly at his daughter, who started to blush. Peter on the other hand had to bite down hard to keep from laughing out loud.

“Ugh, fine.” Morgan rolled her eyes and got up. “Good night.” She leaned over and put a kiss on Peter's cheek.

“Was a nice try”, he chuckled. “Sleep well, sweetie.”

“Come on, Morgoona.” Tony held his hand out and, albeit with an anger glare (as intimidating as the anger glare of a tired 11-year-old could be), she took the outstretched hand. “Don't worry, tomorrow morning you and Peter can do all the homework the world can possibly offer.”

[mxtantrights]

✹ 　PART SEVEN (DAMSEL)

HAWKINS, INDIANA

NOVEMBER 7, 1983

"Can I speak with Jessie Glendall please?" A lady who I hadn't met asks my history teacher. She's very lucky that I don't like inhabiting the same space as Carol. I raise my hand in an instant and she looks to me, waves me over.

I don't even wait for Ms.Sean to excuse me.

I grab my bag and my books in my hands and walk to the door. The lady holds it open for me and lets me out before she leaves the classroom. Her hair is long and brown, but it's not styled like any other adult women I know. Seems like she has her own style, it's straight down her back no curls, waves, nothing.

She begins walking down the hall and I follow her. I follow her all the way to her office I presume because she walks in like she owns it and sits in the chair behind the desk. I sit across from her and set my bag and books down in the chair next to me.

I can see a file on her desk. All alone.

I watch as she adjusts her skirt in her seat and then looks at me. "Oh! I'm sorry I didn't introduce myself to you, clumsy me. I'm your college advisor, you can call me Lisa."

Her hand is stretched out for me to take.

College.

"Did I scare you? I'm sorry, I know college is a scary thing to some people. But I'm here to help you with any questions you may have, or any questions you don't have, anything." Her hand is still out as she tells me that.

I take it quickly. "Yeah- no I'm not scared. Well. I- that's a whole thing. But I've only just met you."

"Don't worry. It's actually good to be scared because it shows that you care about your future. So I've go to ask," And I think to myself oh no, here we go. Here we fucking go. "What are your hobbies?"

What?

"I like music- but shouldn't you be asking what I want to be?" I ask hesitantly. It was nice question that not a lot of people ask. It was nice to be asked that.

She laughs a bit at that. "I'm not like everyone else who's asking those questions that scare you. I want to know about you, so I can maybe not scare you. And you can come back here willingly."

I let out a weird sort of chuckle.

"That's nice." It's all I've got.

"I know. So, what about music? You play any instruments? In a band? Choir?" She dives right in and I can feel a bit of relief come to me.

"I'm not in anything but I just got a guitar a few months ago. And I've been singing for as long as I can remember." It felt easy with her, like I was talking to a friend. Someone who wouldn't judge me. Like Benny.

She nods along to the words I say. "So you like singing, and guitar. They have schools for that you know?"

I lean back in my seat. Yeah I know that. I just know that there is no way I'm getting there with my parent's full support. I know that they might tell me no. They might tell me to keep it as a hobby, but not a career path. Theres the tiniest chance that they would be okay with it, to my face. And then behind my back they'll be waiting for me to fail.

I've spent more time thinking about this than I do homework.

"I just don't think it's an actual possibility for me. My brother is in Stanford for Law right now. I feel like if I go to school for music then I'm becoming the black sheep." I try to put into words, but it sounds better in my head.

I watch her nod and then she goes into her drawer. She moves things around quite a lot actually before she pulls out a paper. When she does, she takes a hold of the file in her other hand and holds both up for me to see.

"Jessie I've seen you're grades." She puts bluntly.

Here we go again. Here we go.

"Look, I'm new here I just moved-"

"From Texas I know. And I have your grades from there too and they look pretty good. Now it's not uncommon for this kind of thing to happen but we're in November and your grades haven't picked up at all since you started." She waves the file around with my name on it as she speaks.

"I know but-" She gives me a look that says she wasn't finished so I stop talking.

"I see here that you had music back in sophomore year. Aced that with a 100. And then I see on your schedule right now you aren't taking any arts." She begins and hands me my file. I take it as she continues, "It's my job to see these things and advise you, not tell you like your parents, or pressure you like your friends. And I see a girl who could be doing amazing things."

I scoff and open my file. My grades from Texas are staring me right in the face. I can't lie about it. And I can't hide that 100. What else am I gonna do besides own it?

"Okay. Yeah. Maybe I could. But when I enrolled here the art class was full and so was music. And my dad wanted me to get my required stuff out of the way so I took P.E." I tell her, closing my file back and handing it to her.

She doesn't take it. Instead she holds out the other paper in her hand. I take it and take a look at whats on it. It's a list of art schools. Fricking Juilliard is at the top of it. I didn't even think that was an option for me. If Stanford was impossible then that was whatever comes after.

I look at her, since it's all I can do. I'm not entirely speechless but damn near it.

"I think you should put that list in your file, and start getting real with yourself and others about what you want."

I look back down at the two separate things. The two things that have been forged spirit since I moved here. And she's right. I knew it deep down all this time. I wanted to pursue music, it's been my dream since I could have dreams. I just haven't been confident enough to stand in it.

My hands put the list into my file.

I can't believe it, but then another part of me is just screaming. ABOUT TIME!

I look back up at Lisa. My college advisor. "What next?"

-

"I'll meet you guys there, over." I hear my brother speak- most likely into his walkie. I don't think he's talking to himself in the mirror or something.

I open his door and place my hands on my hips. "I don't know what you think you're doing but no."

He sighs very loudly, making me close his door and shush him.

Our parents are in bed early tonight. I haven't the faintest clue why but it cut into my guitar time. It's painfully quiet in this house meaning I can most definitely hear my dork brother speaking on his loud ass walkie talkie.

"Jessie! I have to go my friends need me!" He whisper-shouts at me.

Need him for what? It's dark and raining. There is no way he's going out there to play D&D with them right now. It's too dangerous for him to bike, and its way too late.

"It is late, it is raining and I cannot let you go out there." I shake my head at him.

"You have-" He starts yelling but I cover his mouth with my hand.

"Lower your voice!" I whisper again. Can't he take the hint that he needs to be quieter? If he was even gonna get through my parents he was walking into a losing battle. I take my hand from his mouth.

"It's Will, he's missing."

I-

holy shit.

What the fuck?!

"I'm coming with you then. Just meet me downstairs in a minute." I tell him and he nods his head. I walk over to his door before thinking to myself, I hope he doesn't pull some shit with me. I turn back and point at him. "Do. Not. Leave me."

He nods again.

-

The boys are standing outside of the little makeshift cabin. Their flashlights are shining on something inside but I can barely see with the rain. It's pelting down on me, on all of us so hard I think I might be swimming in it.

"Is it him?" I shout over the loud pouring water.

They don't move.

It can't be a dead body right? They would scream out if they saw something like that, I would. Or maybe I'd be paralyzed with fear. Too scared to form words. Too scared to do much of anything.

I take that as a sign to evoke my older sister duties and slightly push them out of the way. As I do, I can see into the cabin. A kid, looking right back at all of us.

"We need to get her out of this rain," I start ordering while taking off my jacket.

The kid isn't saying much of anything. I hand her my jacket, slowly, and she takes it.

"My house." Mike adds.

Yeah because she was definitely not coming home with me and Mickey.

"Alright Wheeler, you're house."

-

I watch from the staircase as the boys throw their questions at her. We figured out that she's a she when she stepped more into the light. And now she's on Mike's couch, not saying much of anything again. She hasn't said a word since we brought her here.

She sat on the back of my bike and held onto me very lightly.

The boy's start going overboard but before I can tell them to calm down, Mike seems to do so. Seems that he wasn't he tiny asshole I pegged him to be. He brings her some spare clothes from the laundry.

I watch as she inspects them, like she needs to be wary of everything she comes into contact with.

Then she's on her feet, peeling off my jacket and about to pull up her shirt when I jump forward.

"Wait a minute!" I shout with the others.

Mike points to the bathroom and tells her to change in there.

The little girl picks up the clothes and follows his instructions. I see her take herself to the bathroom and look around. Mike tries to close the door to give her privacy but she grips it tight. I think this is the part where I step up.

"You don't want it closed?" I ask her

She takes a second before finally, finally answering. "No."

I watch Mike speak to her, and they both agree to keep the door open a few inches. Mike walks away, back to the other boys. But I stay where I am, turned around of course, to block the crack in the door.

I don't pay attention to their conversation. I’m too in my own head about this little kid.

What the actual fuck.

Where did she come from? Why was she just out in the rain like that? What's her name? Where are her parents? Why doesn't she speak much?

This can't be good.

All roads lead to this is really fucked up. Some fucked up shit is happening here in this small town. A girl, with a shaved head, who can barely speak is just in the woods all by herself. I don't like the way any of this sounds.

"Jessie?"

I look at the boys now who are all looking at me. "What?"

"Mike's plan, did you hear it?" Dustin asks me and I shake my head. He sighs, but tells me anyways. "She'll stay here, then mike will get her to come to his front door in the morning aldrin the bell. And his mom will handle it."

What kind of plan is that?!

No.

"That- and then what happens to her?" I ask them expectantly.

"Who cares, she's not our problem!" Lucas barks back to me.

Not their problem? What? "Well she is now. She is now that we all decided to bring her back here and clothe her."

"Look we can't tell anyone. We'll all be put on lockdown Jessie." Mickey.

He's right. But theres something going on. Maybe because they're kind of too young to see all the scenarios. But I'm old enough to know things. Scary things that happen to people, to girls. I have a really bad feeling about all of this.

What if she's running from something or someone?

She opens the door from behind me and I turn around as she steps closer to me.

My father's feminist agenda is screaming at me. Right now. This is it.

I look down at her, "I don't know if you can understand me or not," I crouch down to be at her level and see her take a breath. "you'll be safe here for the night. With Mike."

She nods her head once at me to let me know she understands. I hope.

All I know is, I feel the need to protect her. Meaning I'm gonna have to wake up bright and early Tomorrow morning to derail Mike's plan. My parents don't come into my room- god I really hope not- and If I have to hide her in my closet for God'sakes I will. 

[dragonotaku-justineverything]

Majin 21 using her tail to get Jaune off

I fucking loved this ask! Thank you @nate-the-content-creator!

I also really got into this ask. By that I mean 3050 words into it! Hope you all enjoy reading as much as I did writing it. I can also post it to my Ao3 page if you’d all like. Just let me know if I should!

{21′s Counseling Arc} 

Jaune stood outside one of the professors offices in Beacon. This office belonged to Ms. Android 21. He’d had been called to his professor’s office on the weekend, so he wasn’t expecting something good. When he knocked, Ms. 21 had called him inside and told him to close the door. He was a little unnerved but did as he was told on both regards. 

Ms. 21 was sat behind her desk, doing paperwork. When she heard Jaune enter. she leaned back in her chair and smiled. “Hello Mr. Arc.”

“Hello Ms. 21.” Jaune remembered when that should have sounded weird, but after almost a year at Beacon and calling her that, it didn’t even phase him now. He also knew that when she called him “Mr. Arc“, it wasn’t good news.

“Please, take a seat.” 21 gestured to the cushioned chair right in front of her desk, which Jaune did indeed sit down in. “You’re probably wondering why I called you here on your day off from school correct?” Jaune nodded. “Well it’s because I just received this.” She held up a vanilla envelope. “Your report card.”

And just like that, Jaune’s face paled. “R-really? A-and what about it?”

21 sighed and opened the envelope. She took out the sheets of paper and looked at them briefly before extending them out for Jaune to take. Jaune’s hand shook a fair bit as he accepted the papers. As he started to look over them, he heard Ms. 21 speak. “I must say I was pleasantly surprised. I’m proud of you Jaune.”

Jaune glanced up at her in confusion after hearing her use his first name before looking back down at his grades.

Grimm Studies: B-

Combat Class: B

Dust Affiliation: A- 

History: B-

Aura Control and Manipulation: A

Strategic Thinking: A

Jaune stared at the letters. After rereading them four times, he moved on to the comments his other professors wrote. All of which we commenting on how he’s improved recently and is becoming a better student. Except Oobleck, he couldn’t make out a thing that man’s chicken scratch read. But even Professor Goodwitch had written some okay things about him! That was huge!

Jaune felt joy well up inside of him at all of it. This was proof her was getting better! That maybe he was meant to be at Beacon! He couldn’t help but let a goofy smile form on his face as he looked up to his professor. “You really had me Ms. 21! I thought it was going to be like last time!”

21 giggled at her student’s smile. His joy was pretty infectious. Now down to business. “I couldn’t help it. It helped sell the surprise though. However, speaking of the last time you were here, do you remember what I said near the end of our conference?”

Jaune paused to think. It was vague, but he remembered something. “You said that I needed to try harder to do better.”

“Yes I did, which you have, but also promised that if you managed to bring your grades up to a suitable level, I’d reward you personally.” 21 opened a drawer on her desk and pulled out a file folder. She put it on her desk, opened it, then pushed it towards Jaune. “This was your report card from last semester.”

Jaune winced as he saw his old grades.

Grimm Studies: F

Combat Class: D

Dust Affiliation: D- 

History: F

Aura Control and Manipulation: C

Strategic Thinking: C

21 saw his wince when he looked over his past work. “Nothing higher than a C last semester. And now nothing lower than a B-! All you grades went up at least two marks! That’s a great accomplishment Jaune. And the fact that you managed to improve this much in just a single semester is outstanding.”

Jaune turned bashful and started listing off reasons/excuses. “W-well I-I had a lot of help. Pyrrha started training me, Blake made me spend more time in the library,”

“Jaune.”

“-Weiss let me join in on her tutoring sessions with Ruby, and both our teams started have study groups at least once a week and every night before a test!”  

“Jaune!”

21 stopped her student. He fell silent and she smiled warmly. “All of that may be true. Maybe you did get help and needed others to push you a bit. But there isn’t a person alive that doesn’t need help at some point. However, the fact of the matter is that you wanted to get better. So you accepted their help and pushed yourself. If you didn’t want to better yourself, then you wouldn’t have even tried. And that is something to be very proud of Jaune.”

As his teacher reassured him, Jaune felt pride swelling inside him. His eyes grew misty against his will so he rubbed them dry with his sleeve. “Thank you Professor, that…that means more to me than you know.”

21 nodded and then clapped her hand once, suddenly and loud. “Well now we need to move on to the second reason you’re here right now. Since I feel that these grade improvements are easily ‘suitable’, it’s time for your reward.”

“Oh, Ms. 21 I really don’t-”

“Now now, none of that. I promised you I’d reward you personally and I won’t feel right if that was just an empty promise. You did work very hard to achieve this, so I feel like you deserve something in return for your efforts. While you did improve much more quickly than I’d expected, I fully intend to follow through on my word.”

21 stood up from her desk and walked over to the door. “Besides,” She twisted the lock close and brought down the curtain to her door’s window. “I think I thought of something that a hard working young man like you would enjoy very much.”

Jaune turned around in his seat to look at his professor and what she was doing. Ms. 21 stood by her office door, taking off her red glasses before she activated her semblance and turned into her Majin form. Everyone at Beacon knew about her semblance. Most of them also feared it for good reasons. Which is the reason Jaune sprung out of the chair he was in and nearly flipped over 21′s desk. 

Her long auburn hair turned such a pale shade of pink that it was almost white, her skin also turned pink, though a darker shade, her ears grew more angled, and her eyes turned from normal blue eyes to solid black with blood red irises. A smug smirk formed on her face. 

Her clothes changed too. Her red and blue square patterned dress with a white lab coat, black leggings and red and blue shoes seemed to just morph with her body. Now in her Majin form she wore a black tube top that was barely enough to hide the bottom half of her D-cup chest, but did nothing to hide the top half and most of her cleavage. Her pants became white and extremely baggy, held up by a tight gold band around her waist. A gold collar shimmered as it appeared around her neck. In fact the only thing that still remained of her original outfit was the black arm sleeves she wore from her wrist to bicep.

The most noticeable thing however was that she also grew a large, pink tail. It came out through the back of her pants just underneath her golden belt and wagged lazily behind her back.

Jaune was nervous when he saw her enter that form. It only got worse when her red eyes focused on him, and she smirked. Before he could voice any of his numerous questions, 21 disappeared. Like, she just seemed to blip out of reality. 

Though Jaune soon found out where his teacher went when two pink arms reached around from behind him and wrapped around his chest. 21 grabbed her own wrists, fully ensnaring Jaune and pinning his arms down to his side. Jaune proved she had a good grip when he instinctively struggled, but couldn’t get free or move his arms. Jaune stopped trying to break free when he felt a breeze over his legs. He looked down to see why and went wide eyed seeing his pants around his ankles. His face turned rosy red when he saw his underwear was down with his pants, leaving his penis to hang free. ‘Wh-?! H-how!? I-is Ms. 21 just that fast!?’

“Oh you look so cute~!” Jaune was brought out of his thoughts by Majin 21 speaking up. He looked over his right shoulder to see her smiling widely at him from behind him. She squeezed her arms a bit tighter around him, pressing her large, soft chest into his back below his shoulder blades. “My favorite little student has been working so hard~. Now here you are all alone with me~. You look simply adorable and delicious and you’re all mine~!!” Jaune felt something tickle his cheek and snapped his head forward again to look at what it was. 

There, less than two inches from his face, was the tip of 21′s pink tail. It swayed side to side, looking like a cobra ready to strike. It moved forward again to gently, almost teasingly, flick the tip of his nose. He followed it as it slowly moved to his side and up to 21′s own face. 

“Get ready for your reward sweetie~.” Jaune watched as 21 opened her mouth. A tongue at least a foot long roll out. Jaune watched as 21 dragged her long tongue all over her own tail. She sensually moved it up and down her tail and even wrapped her tongue in a complete ring around it as she did. Jaune’s dick slowly began rising from the show. 21 pulled back her tongue and shot her now saliva slick tail downward. 

Jaune looked down when he felt the tail push up his against his dick. 21′s tail bounced his dick up a few times. The attention helped it reach full mast. Feeling him get fully erect, 21 giggled madly while she began coiling her tail around her student’s shaft. Once, twice, three times she fully wrapped her tail around the boy’s cock and his head was still showing! 

“You’re so big! A full meal for me to enjoy~!” 21 giggled again as her tail moved, sliding easily along his shaft thanks to her spit lubing up her tail.

Jaune let out a sharp gasp at the feeling. 21′s tail felt amazing! The appendage that he’d seen crush a training drone in half, lift over 200 pounds in Beacon’s gym, and bat aside an Ursa Major effortlessly was around his cock! It was so soft and warm! It wasn’t like any faunus tail he’d seen before. It wasn’t furry or scaly, it was just silky smooth skin. Wrapped tightly around his shaft and jerking him off.

Velvety soft and warm coils pumped his cock. Squeezing down a bit tighter made Jaune gasp and when they’d loosen he’d feel it lightly brushing along his shaft. 

Each move it made up towards his head sent waves of pleasure up his body and when it came back down he tried to buck his hips into it. Jaune threw his head back and let out a throaty groan, his eyes closing in bliss. He didn’t even bother struggling anymore. He didn’t want this to end!

21 shivered slightly both from hearing Jaune’s delightful groans and the feeling of her sensitive tail sliding along Jaune’s rock hard dick. She simply loved the appetizing noises he was making! She kept pumping her tail, the smacking sounds of her tail patting back down against his hips meshing with Jaune’s moans. 

For five minutes, 21 jerked Jaune off with her tail. Squeezing and letting go with her coils so that Jaune didn’t get use to how her tail felt. He speed kept its steady rhythm. ‘Pat pat pat pat’ the sounds of light slapping sounding from Jaune’s hips when they bucked into her tail.

21 was both impressed with how well he was holding back, but also getting incredibly impatient! Jaune was getting there, but he wasn’t giving her what she wanted! From behind Jaune, she cried out, “That’s it! I know my meal will be done soon, but I can’t take it anymore! I need to taste a sample~!”

Jaune eyes shot open when he felt Ms. 21 lick his neck. Given how long it was she was even able to lick his Adam’s apple and the under side up his chin. She scrunched up her shoulders as her tongue retreated back into her mouth. “Mmmmmm! Sooooo tasty~! Bon appetit!” Without another word 21 latched her mouth and teeth on Jaune’s neck, making his body tense up. 

She softly gnawed and suck on Jaune’s skin. She was loving the taste while Jaune was loving the feeling! Her tail pumping his cock quicker than ever and the sucking on his neck was too much to handle now! 21 felt Jaune’s cock twitch as she sucked away. She gave one last nibble to his neck and pulled off, leaving a red oval with small teeth marks where she was latched on to. “Mmmmm here comes my meal~! Give it to me sweetie! Gimme gimme gimme~!”

Jaune let out a semi-restrained “Fuck!” and came. 21 moved her tail up to wrap around his sensitive head, catching all his white cum in her coils. Every strand of thick cum landing on her tail. Not a drop was missed.

As Jaune came down from his climax and panted hard, 21 finally released her grip around him. Suddenly being able to move again along with his pants still being around his ankles, Jaune stumbled forward a bit. He stood straight after catching himself on the chair in front of 21′s desk. He spun around to look at 21. 

21 had brought her tail back up to her mouth, her tongue tracing over every inch where Jaune’s cum had landed. Making several passes over the part of her tail she’d just used to get her student off, she lapped up all his baby batter and brought her tongue back into her mouth. When she close her lips again her entire body shivered. Her eyes began to sparkle as she sighed heavenly. “So thick and creamy! Absolutely delicious just like I knew you would be! 100/100!”

21 came out of her bliss when Jaune spoke. “Wh-, why did you-?”

“Oh sweetie that was your reward! The delicious snack you gave me was just a bonus for me~! So did you like it~?” 

Jaune finally caught his breath. “Y-yeah. I really did. It was amazing!”

21 clapped her hands together. “Wonderful! Now I have another promise to make too you~.” 21 sashayed up to Jaune and poked his chest. “If you can bring your grades up to perfect, you’ll get to fuck me anyway you want~! Doesn’t that sound great?”

Jaune stared into his professor’s eyes in disbelief. “Y-you’re being serious?”

21 giggled at Jaune’s dumbfounded face. “Uh huh! Bent over my desk while you fuck my ass, holding me down in a mating press as you pound my pussy, stuffing my mouth and throat with your dick, or having me jerk you off to your hearts content~! Anything for my favorite student~.” 21 watched as Jaune’s mind seemed to shut down as he probably started imagining the things she just said. 

21 let him ponder for a bit, then said a loud “But!” breaking Jaune out of his lewd daydreams. “You’ll only get your reward if all your grades are A’s. Until then, the only thing you get to fuck is my pretty tail here.” Her said tail came up to wag a little in front of him as if showing off. 21 closed the little distance that was between them and whispered in his ear with a hot breath. “So do your best Jaune~.” Her tongue traced all the way up his ear making him shiver.

“I-I will try my hardest Ms. 21!”

“Splendid! Now get going sweetie. It’s still your day off. I don’t want to hog you all day and make people suspicious.”

Jaune quickly pulled up his pants, mind still racing from what he’d just heard. He walked over to Ms. 21′s door and unlocked it. As he opened it, he waved goodbye to 21. “T-thanks again Ms. 21! I’ll do even better in the future!” 

In return 21 waved back with one hand as well with her tail. With a giggle she said, “You’d better, Mr. Arc~.” Her tail formed a quick heart shape behind her, something Jaune barely caught before it was gone. He turned around, red faced all over again and closed the door behind him when he left. As he walked down the halls back to his dorm, he completely forgot about the love bite his professor left on his neck.

…

…drip…drip…

Now alone in the silence and solidarity in her office, 21 barely stayed standing as her legs grew weak. She let out a heavenly sigh. If Jaune had looked a bit lower on his teacher, he would have seen a wet spot appearing at the crotch of her baggy pants. It finally grew so wet that it dripped down to her tile floor. 

The whole exchange she’d had with her adorable blonde student had her so wet! From hearing his moans to the pleasure of her own sensitive tail sliding along his cock! It all added up to her dripping wetness right now. And when she tasted his cum! Mmmmmm she nearly came just from that! 

Then she had the idea to offer him another reward. Those thoughts filled her head and loins with so much anticipation for what could happen in the near future. 21 stared longingly at her door as she morphed back into her normal form. The wet spot on her white pants transferring to the black leggings that took their place. She straightened up, intent to get back to work, but not before one final thought crossed her mind.

‘I can’t wait to see how you do Jaune~. I’m looking forward to your reward even more then you are~.’

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

Story word count: 3048

Posted on Tumblr: 8/6/2019

[kidney9-9]

Petty Chapter 4 (Peter Parker)

Hi, hope you enjoy this chapter of Petty, I loved writing it! In this chapter, Peter Parker and Reader meet again and bring the two to a point they can’t stand each other. I don’t own this gif, credit goes to the creator.

Taglist is open! 

Series Masterlist

Peter Parker x Reader  Warnings: cursing and slight violence Word Count: 1.7k

You were stuck on that day, rethinking everything after your cousin had passed out. You didn’t even know what to do now, with Peter glaring at you, every chance he had. You felt guilty even more than possible, but you were trying to convince yourself not to be. It was just something you couldn’t hold back. You would tell yourself, “Peter deserves it, don’t worry” but that never worked out. You groaned at yourself, shaking your head. It all made you feel stupid now, compared to how you did that because you thought Peter was dumb.

Mandy refused to talk to you now. You were alright with it, knowing she would probably drive to your home in the middle of the night to randomly take you out to roller-skate. It was something she always did to you, whenever your actions affected her in a negative way. Whenever she did something like that to you, she’d apologize by taking you out roller skating as well. It was a fun tradition to end a feud.

Your mom was disappointed in both you and Mandy. She wouldn’t have known about it in the first place if Mandy managed to shut up. Your mom would just stare at you at dinner now, instead of talk about things, something that made you feel even worse and more uncomfortable. Your mom was one of your best friends, so it was off putting whenever she was in the same room as you now.

You scrunched your face up, remembering how she muttered his name at you before you left for school this morning. “Peter Parker…” Something you would usually scoff at but now you’d want to throw things everywhere and cry at the same time. He still pissed you off, no matter what. But that guilt was immense.

You would just pass him through the hallways. Something that was usually normal, but now intense. He’d glare at you, slam his fist into a locker, but never made any action to just talk to you. It wasn’t something you’d expect from a superhero, and it made you think. Were you his villain of high school? You cringed at the thought, but then you sighed. Were you the villain of your own story as well? Was Peter the villain? Nothing made sense, but you couldn’t stop thinking about it.

If you were a villain, you were at best a shitty D-list one.

You could have kept quiet about everything. Something that sounds so easy, but it just poured out of you, like you were in a Shakespearean parody. The antagonist villain is always defeated in movies now. But Peter made no play against you. Nothing to take revenge against you.

That just made you feel more guilty. If he did do something, you would somehow theorize and conclude that what you did to him was just. At the same time, you couldn’t just say “Sorry, you’re probably going to be held back.” As well as, “Sorry my cousin blackmailed you.”

By the time you reached your locker, you sighed in relief. He wasn’t here for some reason. He was usually in this hallway, just staring at you, but this morning he wasn’t. You opened your locker, glancing inside to look for your notes for history, but frowned in confusing. Nothing was there. At all, it was just completely empty.

You felt a dread of anxiety pulse through you. You needed those notes for history today, it was important. It was the pre-exam, and without those notes today, you would be fucked. Some stupid test to make sure you knew everything before the actual exam, but the teacher graded it as well. It was worth 10% and without it, you cringed at just thinking of the score.

You shoved yourself more into the locker, just pushing your head in to see better, as if you were hallucinating. You glanced at the top of your locker, furrowing your eyebrows when you saw a paper tapped on it. You pushed yourself out, ignoring people’s looks and stares at you, ripping the paper out. You clutched it hard, slamming your locker shut, and pushed your back against it.

You opened the paper quickly, ignoring the tape falling to the floor. You squinted, reading it over again. “Music room in 10 minutes.” What the fuck? You crumpled it, shoving it deep down in your pocket, glancing down the hallway. Class started in thirty minutes, so you had time. You knew it was Parker, definitely.

The music room was huge. Last year the school decided to tear down the wall into another classroom, to expand the music room. It acted as a small assembly room sometimes, but normally it was just for music. You walked down the hall, feeling nervous as you started to turn the corner to enter the room.

People smiled at you, greeting you as they usually did in the hallway, but you didn’t respond. You were too nervous, wondering what would happen. You trembled, setting your hand on the doorknob. You shook your head at yourself, slightly scoffing. Like he would do anything on schoolgrounds right? Before you could open the door though, someone from the inside did.

You let go of the doorknob, surprised. No one walked out, so you pumped yourself up for half a second, before stepping in. You cleared your throat slightly, glancing to whoever opened the door. You knitted your eyebrows, not seeing anyone.

“You need to fix my grades.” You jumped at his voice, spinning around in panic. Peter stepped forward, and you wanted to groan at him. He was in his Spiderman costume again, something you just didn’t agree with, seeing as how he was at school, and now with people just outside the room. You tilted back, hitting the door slightly to close it.

“I can’t! And stop- you’re being dumb” You paused, waving your hands out in front of you, just more concerned that his identity would be completely revealed, “Stop that shit.” You pushed out, finishing your sentence.

Peter shook his head back at you, glancing down to his suit. He didn’t have his mask on either. He pushed out a few hours before school, doing an extra shift around the neighborhood, knowing crime rates had gone up in the past month. “I need you to change them back!” He retorted, letting his anger get to him.

He couldn’t believe you were the reason that he was failing a fucking English class. “I don’t understand why you even did it in the first place! Are you just a bad person? That enjoys seeing others like this?” He ranted again, stepping closer to you. He pushed out a plastic bag he was carrying, filled with your notes and objects from your locker. He dropped it between the two of you.

“Peter…” You trailed off, staring down at the bag. “It’s just- I thought it was dumb, that essay you wrote. I know you’re Spiderman and it’s supposed to be a secret, but when you go and write about Spiderman? No, that’s just not safe. I was just pissed off that’s all?” You ended your weirdly apologetic statement with a questioning tone.

Peter stared at you in astonishment. “It’s dumb?” He repeated, throwing his hands up in irritation and anger. You raised your eyebrows back at him, nodding. “As well as you just fucking flying into the school! You know how many times you could have been caught? And what the fuck is that name?” You ranted back, as if feeling his anger flow into you.

Peter felt himself stutter in anger back at you, as the two of you got even closer to each other. “The name? Spiderman? Fuck- I’m sorry that name bothers you to the point you illegally ruin my chances of graduating! You’re such a fucking bitch!” His words came spitting harshly at you, making you shake your head quickly.

“I’m a bitch? Please, what should my superhero name be? Dog-Girl? What’s my superpower, barking?” You scoffed back sarcastically.

You just then realized how close he was. You blinked back at him, feeling heat rush to your face from his closeness and anger. You two were close enough to just almost breathe in the other. It made you have a weird reflection, knowing you probably shouldn’t be arguing with him now. You sighed lightly, watching as Peter shivered at the feeling hitting his neck.

At the same time, you two stepped far back from each other. He glanced down at the plastic bag again, frowning at it. “Since you fucked up my grades, enjoy this fucking gift, Dog-girl.” He muttered, raising his hand to the bag, and activated his web-shooter.

In an instant he shot it out, watching as the solution sprayed itself across your items, “No!” You shouted out, watching as it melted itself into everything, attaching to the floor. You scoffed back up to Peter, rolling your eyes. You needed those notes for history, it was the only thing that could save you today.

Peter felt his heart drop at his actions. It was just a moment of anger, but he could see the pure feeling of lost on your face. Even if it was just for a history class, he felt guilty. Even the people he didn’t like, for example, Flash, wouldn’t have done that. It was just like you did to him though, he didn’t know how to feel now. The two of you stood in silence, until you spoke up.

You licked your lips, squeezing your eyes closed. “You know superheroes have an unspoken rule of hierarchy. Something everyone knows, it’s common sense. Iron-Man would be at the top, something everyone can agree on. He- he almost is seen as an angel, someone who has wings that can cover the whole world in one swoop.” You paused.

“And you? You’re nowhere near him. The only thing that might connect you two, is that your wings are the size of a chicken’s, never going to be able to fly, watching him in envy. You’re never going to amount to anything Tony Stark does.”

Peter didn’t know what to think about other than your words the rest of the day. It burned, stung into him, as if an actual spider had bit him. Even though it was funny that you compared him to a chicken and the wings, he knew that your words held a truth to them. He didn’t know if he could live up to anything of his mentor and father figure.

But at the same time, he’ll die trying.

--

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