#had a Conversation in pre calc

[inquisitor-apologist]

People will be like ‘the Jedi are all evil failures who abused children’.

And then you will ask them who they think was the best Jedi and they will say ‘guy who killed 10000 children’.

And then if you point out that perhaps the reason they think the Jedi are so bad is because they’re using Mr. 3 On-Screen Genocides as a standard they will get very mad

[nightowlfury]

the more i think about it the more i remember that some of the teachers i had in middle and high school should never have been teachers. especially to autistic people.

[spatialwave]

just read your pre calc fic please write another omg it was soooooo good

eek, i'm so happy you liked it! i thought i'd use this ask as a way to continue the story. 🤍

𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐮𝐬 𝐭𝐮𝐥𝐥𝐲, 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐨𝐧 𝐛𝐨𝐲 𝐭𝐮𝐭𝐨𝐫. 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟐. notes: fem!reader <- prev.

—

being tutored by angus tully had become far less tutoring and more learning about each other, and not through conversation. you knew it was becoming an issue when your grades hardly budged, moving up to a c-minus, which wasn’t horrible, but far from ivy league worthy. there was only one month left in your junior year, meaning one month left to make a good impact on your grades and head into senior year with a head start on calculus.

it wasn’t looking good for you.

even if you couldn’t muster an a-minus, you hoped that your extra curriculars would stand out on your applications. you could only put so much time in theatre, community volunteering and chess club—was pre-calculus really all that important?

especially when there were better things to worry about than math, such as the way angus’ hand on your thigh sent shivers up your spine. his brown eyes glued to the pages of the textbook, looking through his lashes as his thumb grazed over your bare skin absently. this closeness became your comfort, the library at your school often quiet enough in the evenings that you two could relish in each other.

it’s not like your peers would rat you out anyway, you had started to notice how many secretive relationships were had between the two schools. you became truly aware of the fact when you’d been looking for a history textbook one night and heard the sounds of soft breathing and moaning coming from an aisle over… though, you couldn’t be certain that it was a girl and a boy.

as you looked down at your homework, able to comprehend it better than the month prior, you found yourself wanting to focus on anything but the coursework due the following day.

“i think my teacher is getting curious of why my grades aren’t improving fast enough,” you murmured, dropping your pencil onto the textbook as you aired a concern that had been eating you away, “why can’t i get the hang of it?”

“maybe if you paid attention,” angus was quick to react, those eyes flickering to you as he straightened up slightly with his hand still glued to your thigh.

“wow, that is totally not my fault,” you breathed, annoyed at his lack of empathy over your situation.

“it’s my fault?” he asked, lips curving into a grin that exposed his teeth.

you blinked a few times, gazing into his eyes before you looked down at his hand and hoping he’d followed your gaze. when you looked back up, you saw the way he chewed on his lip, biting back a cheeky smile as he kept his hand there.

“fine,” he said, removing his hand, “i’ll be good.”

“thank you,” you said, straightening up and adjusting your skirt. you already missed his touch, but you knew this was for the better—you two had plenty of other opportunities to use your free time to get handsy. right now, you needed to focus on what was important.

the air was tense between you two as angus moved on with the content, keeping his distance as he explained equations that managed to stick. you knew it wasn’t like magic, you wouldn’t wake up tomorrow a pre-calculus genius, but it was quite magical to see the wonders that concentration could bring.

when the clock struck nine o’clock in the evening, it was curfew for all students. with a soft sigh you started packing your things into a pile so you could take them back to your room.

“sorry for being bossy,” your voice was soft, “i’m just getting worried about college.”

you looked over at angus, surprised to see the boy sitting there with a smile. admiring you.

“what?” you asked, feeling self conscious under his eyes.

“nothing,” he chuckled, “am i not allowed to look at you either? you are bossy.”

“i’m not in the mood for being teased,” you huffed, though your worries were immediately gone when angus leaned over and pressed his lips against yours. something you’d gotten used to.

the kiss was quick, but he didn’t pull back too far from you, his arm now extended over the back of your chair to keep you close.

“i’ll be careful at our next tutoring session, alright? i guess it’s hard to keep my hands from you. don’t realize i’m doing it,” angus admitted, his cheeks just the tiniest bit rosy.

“it’s okay,” you murmured in return, smiling at the awkwardness radiating from the boy you’d been crushing on—hard, “if it’s any consolation, if i had the willpower to concentrate i’d rather you kept doing it.”

a smile spread on angus’ lips as he laughed softly, leaning forward and pressing a kiss on your cheek. a domestic action that made your stomach swirl, mostly because you two still hadn’t talked about what was happening between you. though, you didn’t really mind, the uncertainty made you giddy, rather than nervous, like you were each other’s secret.

“well, i should go,” angus sighed as he pulled away from you, but you were quick to reach for him.

“wait,” you squeaked, grabbing his wrist, “maybe you can stay for a bit. i mean, i feel like i deserve a reward.” you spotted the way the boy’s eyes lit in excitement, eager to see where you were going with this, “what do you think?”

a confident smile spread on his lips as you dropped your hand from him, those brown eyes of his flickering around the library to make sure that it was empty enough. you were filled with that excited uncertainty again, thankful that instead of putting his things away he whisked you far in the depths of the library shelves. a place the two of you had grown familiar with, a place where your hands had found spots up in the shelves to keep you upright while angus explored every inch of you that he could.

while you wondered what it would be like to decide on a title of what you two ‘were’, those thoughts were easily dismissed when his lips were on your neck. angus was good at making a mess out of you, hair wild and skirt pushed up to your waist as his lips and hands made quick work of leaving you breathless.

but you had enough breath to utter a few words that made you wish you could dig a grave for yourself.

“what are we?” you asked through a satisfied sigh as you focused on the feeling of his lips against your skin. it was cut short when angus’ face quickly pulled away from your collarbones where he’d popped open most of the buttons of your school-issued shirt.

“what?” he asked, curls wild and out of place, cheeks red.

“i—“ you stuttered, “i don’t know. i didn’t mean to ask. ignore that.”

angus swallowed, his adam’s apple bobbing as he cleared his throat and pulled himself back enough to give you two some room.

“i don’t—“

“please, let’s not talk about it,” you whined, the silence between the two of you eating you alive.

nearly out of breath, angus laughed, lifting a hand to brush his curls out of his face, “let me talk.”

you didn’t answer, instead deciding to button up your shirt and fix your hair; you knew you’d be saying your goodbyes quickly. then, the boy’s hand grabbed at your chin and tilted your head so you were forced to look at him, your hands gripping at your half-buttoned shirt.

you saw how angus was trying desperately to be confident, but his twitching lips and pink cheeks spoke volumes on how nervous his was. you still wished you could turn back time and keep your mouth shut.

“do you want to know how i really feel about you?” he asked, and you prepared for the worst. you always did.

nodding slowly, you shuddered as his hand moved to cup your cheek.

“i… i really like you,” he murmured, “a lot… and i’m scared to mess it up. that’s why i keep my mouth shut about anything between us, i feel like if i decide to make this real then i’ll find a way to screw it up like everything else.”

the honesty was palpable, angus was wearing his heart on his sleeve as he aired everything out to you. you empathized fully, a smile breaking on your lips as you felt seen, and most of all—loved.

“i really like you too. like a lot… if you can’t tell.” you blushed, finding it hard to keep your eyes locked on his.

“i can tell,” he teased, rubbing his thumb along your cheek as the two of you allowed yourself the space to take pleasure in your admissions of romantic interest. he took in a deep breath and exhaled out, obviously doing his best to keep himself calm, “would you, uh… say yes if i asked you to be my girlfriend?”

elated. you were so elated to hear that question fall from his lips and you wanted to jump into his arms and laugh loudly with joy. though, you kept quiet lest you wanted your library rendezvous to end in detention.

a big, toothy grin spread on your lips and you spoke coyly, “sure. i’ll be your girlfriend.”

[lollystocks]

Therapy for the Dead and Buried, Chapter 3

Chapter two here

Masterpost here

AO3

"Patient 17-X-(A)-2, session three. A lot of progress was made last week, and it seems that allowing the patient to lead the conversation is the key. Any abilities still unconfirmed, though I suspect he has some kind of emotion-altering capabilities. This must be handled with care, for obvious reasons.

“I have practiced self-hypnosis and meditation before today’s session, in the hope that I will be less affected. At present, the only emotion the patient can instill is fear, and he can’t seem to consciously… turn it off. I did notice, however, a slight reduction in intensity when he was distracted by talking about his interests. This is a good sign.

”I’m returning to a traditional cassette tape for this session. My digital recorder’s file was almost unintelligible, again. Must get that looked at…”

--

They talked about wormholes, to start.

They’d been on his mind, obviously. Relativistic physics in this world seemed to be a little behind his own, probably owing to his home dimension’s little… problem. But it was still all way too advanced for him to really get his mind around - tragically, advanced physics required a little more math knowledge than high school pre-calc.

But this world’s understanding seemed to be missing a whole ecto-shaped chunk out of its standard physical model, leaving them behind. It was interesting.

They didn’t talk about that, of course. Just the basics.

“I’m curious, James. Why space? Your interests cover a lot of different fields - astrophysics, aeronautical engineering, relativity, geology. But they all cover this general concept.”

“Not really sure. I just don’t think I ever outgrew ‘wanting to be an astronaut’. I kinda made it my personality as a kid - stars on the ceiling, Apollo 11 posters, rocket plushies, I had three different NASA t-shirts when I was like, thirteen, I wore them on rotation. Part of me wonders why more people aren’t into it - like, the earth is tiny. And on the timescale of the universe, it’s a spec. I don’t think I’m so much interested in space, as like… the whole universe. It feels arrogant to not want to have a sense of what’s out there. Or to put the earth on a pedestal, just ‘cause we’re here.”

Doctor Bright smiled, and her voice was light. “I must say James, you’ve certainly got me more interested. I agree that we can often be wilfully ignorant of the world around us.”

“Yeah. And just, the community’s great too. All the space agencies are just full of nerds doing amazing things, and space-Reddit is insane.” Some things didn’t change across dimensional boundaries. Even as a newbie in this universe, he’d quickly slotted into the online world. “I genuinely like these people.”

“Do you feel you have more of a community online than in real life, James?”

“Well yeah. I have no community in real life, it’s kinda my problem. But the people on discord and the forums don’t have the same issues with me, so I can actually be, you know, social.”

“I’m glad to hear that. Virtual communities can be a fantastic way to socialize across boundaries you may not be able to otherwise - geographic distance, for instance. And in your case, without the need for physical proximity.”

“Yeah! Like, I can feel normal, ‘cause no one who doesn’t know me in real life is gonna call me a ‘school shooter waiting to happen.’ Well, mostly.”

“Mostly?”

“Well, like. Sometimes people are still sensitive to it. Online. There was a whole thing where someone made a separate channel without me and wanted to know why everyone else was okay with such a creep around, but no one could understand what he meant. So like, I think my thing can still work across technology, just. Not as reliably. Thankfully.”

The doctor considered this. “I see. So again, this person couldn’t pinpoint any reason behind their fear, just a ‘vibe’, as you’ve said?”

“Yeah. Sucks. And that’s just with text threads - not like I can even jump on voice channels.”

“Why’s that?”

“Oh. Just, um. Can’t afford a mic. That’s all.”

It was a weak excuse, but there was no way he could explain the effect his voice had on digital audio. Once again, he’d slipped.

This whole thing was dangerous anyway - they had become far too comfortable talking about his fear aura like it was real.

"James, have you noticed any variation in the… intensity, of this phenomenon? That perhaps, your own mood may be having an affect on others? Have you ever tried experimenting?"

Danny winced at the word.

This was stupid. Admitting this all was stupid. It felt really good, to say it out loud, but Doctor Bright was so cold and calculating and it probably meant nothing but her perfectly pressed shirt was white and she was a doctor and-

"Look Doc, I know this thing is all in my head, you know it's all in my head, so just like, write me a prescription for an antipsychotic and we can move on."

She closed her notebook, and placed it on the coffee table. "I don't think it's all in your head, James."

Shit.

"Sorry?"

The doctor recrossed her ankles. Black shoes, navy slacks. Clear glasses. It was just a white shirt. Cream, even.

No white suit here.

"I don't believe you're psychotic, James. At least, I have no reason to believe so. On the surface this would read as a classic paranoid delusion, but it's hard to ignore the evidence."

"That everyone is scared of me? ‘Cause people have told you so? You can just chalk it up to my actions Doctor Bright, I won’t take it personally."

"But I can’t, James. You’ve been nothing but polite, articulate, and considerate in our sessions. A little nervous and distrusting, but that’s perfectly understandable. But this effect you’ve described - an instinctual feeling of unease in your presence. I can feel that myself, and I can't ascertain a logical reason for it."

Huh.

"You look perplexed, James. Has no one ever admitted that before?"

"I told you, no. It's um. Not nice, exactly. But refreshing."

"I'm curious, James. This phenomenon, that the people you interact with are overcome with a- a foreign emotion. One without a clear stimulus, other than your mere presence. I’ve asked you this before, but I really want you to think - has it always been discomfort and fear? Or has it ever been something else?"

"I'm not sure what you mean, Doctor Bright. That's my thing. Being unnerving." He waggled his fingers. "Fear me.”

"Of course. I just want to explore this further, get some more data points. You clearly have a keen interest in science, James, despite the academic setbacks. Help me understand this on a scientist’s level."

Danny's breath caught, just a little. He knew he was being paranoid. That he was safe here. That he couldn't be taken. He was fine, they couldn't find him here, he was sa-

"You a researcher, Doctor Bright? Obviously you are, you've got a PhD on the wall. Psychology. You work with human subjects much? Non-human subjects?"

"James, as happy as I am to talk about my personal work, this session is to-"

"No, no, this is important, Doctor Bright. Like, who even are you? You're a scientist, but you're a downtown shrink? You just take my whole thing in your stride? Do you ask about anything ‘strange and unusual’ with all your patients? Like I don't want to give off paranoid vibes here but I have good reason to think they are actually out to get me so why should I even trust you? What's your deal? Why are you interested in my whole deal? Who do you even work f-"

With a crack, the light bulb blew. Pieces of shattered glass fell to the coffee table.

A stunned silence followed.

With only the cold, cloudy daylight to illuminate the room, the doctor was backlit against the window, her face in shadow, save for the barest, caustic green glow. Danny could see her fingers pressed against her mouth, as she stared at the ceiling.

Fuck, his ‘angry eyes’. He squeezed them shut.

Danny needed to bolt, he needed to go now, he could go back to school, but his new name was on the file here, he'd need to make new documents, he’d need to-  he'd need to-

There was a squeak of vinyl,, and he heard the doctor rise to her feet, cross the room, and retrieve a gun something from a drawer in her desk. The soft sound of her heels on the carpet then made their way towards the office door. Danny opened his eyes.

"Wait-!"

She flipped the light switch to ‘off’. "Sorry, basic electrical safety, James. This won't take a second."

She walked towards Danny, towards the table, gently picked up the pieces of broken glass, and placed them in the empty box of the new bulb. After a thorough inspection of the surface, she kicked off her heels and stepped lightly onto the coffee table. He saw now that she held a fresh lightbulb in her hand, the base of which she popped between her teeth as she reached up to unscrew the shattered one from within the lampshade. She dropped that into the small box and swiftly fitted the new one.

She hopped down, returned to the light switch, and flicked it on. The new light buzzed to life, and the doctor stepped back into her heels and took a seat, like nothing had happened.

The whole thing couldn’t have been more than thirty seconds, but in Danny’s panic, it had stretched on and on.

She smiled, a little awkwardly. "You'd be surprised how many lightbulbs I get through in this room, James. No need to be..." She seemed to change the word in her mouth. "Anxious."

Danny set his jaw. "Right. Bad electrics.”

“Perhaps. Not always though. Tensions in this room can… run high, as you might imagine.”

Danny could scarcely believe what she was implying. “Tensions running high with your… strange and unusual patients?”

"Yes, James. I assure you, that was nothing I haven't seen before. You may also notice my full suite of fire extinguishers."

"For your faulty electrics?"

"James, correct me if I'm wrong, but - that was you, correct? Blowing the lightbulb in a moment of stress?"

Danny sat back, rubbing the back of his neck. "No. It wasn't."

"Of course."

"Say if it were-"

"Okay."

"What would happen? I mean, what's happened to other people who've blown your lightbulbs? You should know I can disappear. You'd never find me."

"I don't doubt that, James. You seem a very capable young man." The doctor went to pick up her notebook, but thought better of it, and sat back. "Are you asking specifically about clients who have blown my lights, or about all my clients with atypical abilities?"

And wasn’t that an interesting phrase. Danny studied her, eyes lidded. "How many people are we talking?"

"Telling you would breach my doctor-patient confidentiality I'm afraid, and be a breach of all my clients’ trust. However, I can tell you I have been working with 'strange and unusual' people since college, many of them in this room. I'm something of a specialist in providing therapy to people with atypical abilities."

"Is that the official term for it?"

"Well, there isn't really an official term, as Atypicals don't officially exist. But yes, that is the frequently used term."

This was. This was a whole lot. This was totally different to what he’d been frantically building in his head. “But they’re all- they’re all what? Allowed to roam free? Just- be out there in the world, with ‘abilities’?”

“Of course. They have the same rights as anyone else.”

"And you think I'm an… ‘atypical?’"

"Yes James, I do."

“Because your light bulb blew.”

“Yes. Amongst other things.”

“And if I were?”

“Then, James, I hope you’d find some value in the knowing. Knowing, for instance, that you aren’t broken or ill, or even creepy. Merely that you have an atypical physiology that presents an usual symptom, or set of symptoms - namely, blowing light bulbs. And something else that I’m still trying to form a hypothesis over.”

“The scary thing?”

“The scary thing, yes. If you’d be happy to, I’d like to continue to work together, so that we can identify what control you have over your abilities, and start to make them work for you, not against you. How does that sound?”

It sounded… like a lot to think about.

The doctor was wrong, obviously. He wasn’t an atypical, (was that a capitalized ‘A’?) whatever those were.

Danny had never heard of anything remotely similar outside of fiction, in his own dimension; and he was pretty sure that if otherwise-normal people were going around with superpowers , which was what Doctor Bright made this whole thing like, then he’d know about it. His parents would be all over it, as would Vlad, the GIW - hell, half the ghosts he fought.

But they weren’t commonly known about here, either, that was for sure.

It would be a convenient answer. He could explain away the most obvious of his (stupid, fucking, glitching-out) powers in a way that blended in nicely with this dimension.

It wasn’t without risk, though. Throwing his lot in too heavily could spell disaster if he were found out - were ‘Atypicals’ identifiable through their blood, or DNA? Would his weird vital signs cast suspicion? What about all his extra powers? What could your typical Atypical even do?

And all this was assuming that he could trust Doctor Bright - that she did work with these Atypicals, with no ulterior motive other than a modest paycheck, and wasn’t a mole for a-whole-nother shadowy governmental organization who wanted to catch people like him and stab them with thousands tiny needles while keeping him barely sedated and strapped down to a-

But. The GIW didn’t exist here. He’d checked. It was why he’d stayed.

He looked back to the doctor, who was eyeing him patiently.

“It sounds like somewhere to start, Doctor Bright.”

--

You’ve reached the voicemail of Doctor Joan Bright. If this is to schedule an appointment, please press one to speak to Sarah. Otherwise, please leave your name, number, and a brief message after the tone. 

Message received on, Saturday, at, 10:52 AM.

“Hi Doctor Bright, it’s Caleb. Caleb Michaels. Well. I’m not sure how many other Calebs you treat but… but anyway yeah. So. Basically there’s this guy at school, and I think he may be an Atypical? So um, how does this work, do you take referrals? Like I’m sure there are loads of Atypicals who don't need therapy but no offense to this guy but he definitely does. 

“Like I’d love to try and strike up a conversation and I wanna know if he knows he’s an Atypical but I don’t really know how to do that and also I. Um. I kinda really hate being around him. He makes my ability go fu- kinda haywire and I feel like I’m gonna punch him. I won’t, I won’t, you don’t have to worry about that, but uh. Well. I don’t think I can talk to him. ‘Cause he’s either an Empath and we’re getting in a crazy Empathy-feedback-loop or it’s something else, like with Mark. And I can’t get his number, either.

“Adam’s tried talking to him instead but he always kinda bolts. Plus he still makes Adam all freaked out then that affects me really bad for the whole day and just…

“So um, yeah. His name’s James Jackson. I think he needs your help."

...

“Okay. Bye.”

--

To: Caleb Michaels

Subject: Referred Patient

Good afternoon Caleb.

Unfortunately, I can’t reveal any information that would break my doctor-patient confidentiality.

I can assure you though, that while you show wonderful initiative and care for this fellow student, your concerns are already being met.

We can talk at your next session.

Best wishes,

Dr. Joan Bright, PsyD, ABPP

Licensed Therapist

---

Chapter 4

[cherrryybeee]

Kevyn 😒

(link at bottom)

natalie scatorccio bot. Au where kevyn is the new kid that just moved to new jersey, and you're jealous that him and Nat are spending too much time together

Natalie Scatorccio and {{user}} we're best friends. Always have been since one fateful day in 7th grade. Natalie got seated next to her in science and the rest is history. Everyone said it was an "unlikely" duo but the truth is they just didn't know you two. Everyone saw Natalie as a "burnout dyke slut" just because she wore dark clothes, smoked weed and liked booze. In reality though she was an amazing soccer player, I mean she did make it on the varsity team of your school, she had good music taste, was easy to talk to, was funny and was kind, even if she didn't like to admit it. On the other hand though everyone saw you as a "pretty popular" girl. Which was crazy because these were the same kids that bullied you all of middle school, well not all of them, the soccer team was always nice. Just because you got "pretty" over the summer of 8th grade to freshman year, all that happened was that your boobs grew in, you grew your hair longer, and you learned how to do basic makeup. But that made people treat you differently, pretty private was real. 

You didn't have a lot of other friends, neither did Natalie. You two only had about two other mural friends, Van from the soccer team who lived in the same trailer park Nat did, and Lottie  who was again on the soccer team and was the "rich loner".  That was okay though because you two had each other. And you didn't need anyone else, no one else understood you like her anyway. That was until *Kevyn* came along. 

It was a Tuesday. It was a nice day, sunny outside.You just got out of pre calc, which you hated, and now we're walking to lunch. You  Nat, Van, Lottie and Tai, Van's " secret" girlfriend hung out by the bleachers at lunch. You guys liked sitting my the soccer field under the sun. 

When you got to the bleachers no one was there, which was weird. Usually Natalie got there first because she had physics before lunch and it was right by the exit to the field. It's probably nothing though, she's probably just getting lunch. You sat down on the bottom bench of the bleachers and waited for the others. Lottie was second to show up, just a couple seconds after you sat down. Then about two minutes later Van and Tai walked up to you and Lottie. You spaced off as the three of them talked. Finally after what felt like forever, but was really only 10ish minutes, Natalie walked up. And you were right she did get school food, it looked like a grilled cheese sandwich. But she wasn't alone, she was with a guy. He looked your age, he had black hair, brown eyes, he was wearing a Nirvana T-shirt and black ripped jeans with converse. You think he was the new kid? 

Once Natalie sat down on the bleachers next to you, the guy sitting next to her, she didn't even say hi to her. She just gave you a quick smile and turned back to the guy. You could clearly hear their conversation, they were talking about bands. Mainly Nirvana. You knew Nirvana, you *liked* Nirvana. Why wasn't Nat talking to you..? After a couple minutes of then talking and Van giving you a confused look, glancing back and forth from the new kid to me. Natalie finally turned to you.

"This is {{user}}, my best friend"

She looks from the new kid, to me, to the new kid again.

"{{user}}, this is Kevyn Tan, the new kid"

*Kevyn* stupid name. You smiled anyway.

"Hi"

He didn't even respond to you. Just giving you a very obviously fake smile before him and Natalie continued talking. 

After that Kevyn, or as Nat called him "Kev", joined your group for lunch. Every. Single. Day. He started showing up to her soccer games, walked around school with her, went to the record store with her, smoked weed with her. When was he not with her? You thought it would end once he made more friends, y'know settled in. Well he did make more friends, more loser friends like him, but that didn't mean he left Nat alone. No because why would it. Once you were walking in the hall and you heard him call Nat *his* best friend. Fuck no. You don't think you'd be as annoyed as you are if he actually talked to you. But he just pretended you didn't exist. Even when Natalie tried to being you into the conversation he would just smile and nod and then continue talking. God he talked *so much*. He said so little with so many words. Why couldn't he just leave Nat alone, why couldn't Nat go back to being yours? One day at lunch, before Natalie and Kevyn showed up, Van brought up the idea that he maybe liked her. You laughed, he knew she was gay right? If they were actually best friends now and he replaced you then he would definitely know that. Then Van brought up the idea that you liked Nat, you laughed again. No way. You weren't gay, not that anything was wrong with that, you just weren't. That's not the reason you were jealous. 

Every friday you and Nat had a music/movie night. Your dad would give you two money to go to the record store and buy a new one to play on your record player in your room while getting high, then you'd go to the movie shop down the road and rent a VHS to play that night while eating pizza and candy. But of course at lunch Natalie told you, not even asked, told you, that Kevyn was going to be joining you two tonight. You wanted to scream. There's no way. He talks to much, doesn't listen or talk to you, and now he's invading on your plans? You couldn't decline though, so you just smiled and said a quick yeah. Then getting ignored the rest of lunch by Kevyn. Even when Natalie tried to bring you in the conversation he just brushed you off. 

That's how you found yourself walking to the record store. You were a couple steps behind Natalie and Kevyn. They were debating on which album by Nirvana was better, "bleach" or "in utero". Kevyn was arguing that bleach was while Natalie saying in utero was. You weren't paying attention though, to busy spacing off.

[babygirl-diaz]

Eliza's Third Dad

This is a sequel to Eddie's Magical Boo Boo Healing Powers

So I decided to repost this because oh well.

Summary: In which, Buck's daughter, Eliza, has another conversation with Eddie

***

"Papa's dating a new guy," Eliza told Eddie one day as he was cooking in his kitchen.

The three-year-old swung her tiny legs back and forth as she sat on the countertop. Buck was helping Christopher out with his Math homework and Eliza was bored so she hung out with Eddie in the kitchen instead.

Eddie stopped chopping up the cabbage for coleslaw and looked at her sympathetically. "And how do you feel about that, Lizi?"

Eliza tilted her head to the side and looked at Eddie with her big blue eyes, "What do you mean?"

Eddie pursed his lips together. "Hmmm..." he hummed and tapped his cheek with his index finger as he thought about how to phrase his question. "...Are you happy or are you sad your papa is dating someone else?"

"Oh! I'm happy! James is cool. He got me candies from some fancy place," Eliza told him.

Eddie smiled at that. It was so easy to win the 3-year-old over. He went back to chopping the cabbage and almost lost a finger at what Eliza asked next...

"Eddie, why don't you become my third dad?"

Eddie looked up at Eliza like she had grown a second head and she giggled.

"Eddie, you look like you saws a ghost!" She giggled even louder.

"Um... Lizi, where did this question even come from?" Eddie asked, surprised.

"My mouth," Eliza replied with a serious face.

"No, I mean-" Eddie sighed and grabbed onto the kitchen counter, "...why do you want me to be your third dad?"

"Because you're awesome, silly! I told Papa that I thought you were awesome and he said I should ask if you wanna be my third dad."

Eddie really needed to have a talk with Tommy about this.

Before Eddie could say anything though, thankfully, Buck and Christopher walked into the kitchen.

"Hey, fellas!" Eddie gave them an awkward smile. "All done with the Math homework?"

"Yeah," Christopher replied. "Pre-Calc sucks, but Buck makes it seem easy," the 18-year-old added.

Buck chuckled at that. "You're a smart kid, Chris. It's easy explaining stuff to you."

"Lizi, we can have our tea party now!" Christopher told Eliza.

"Okay!" Eliza said cheerfully and extended her arms. "Daddy, can you get me down?"

"Hold on, sweetie, let me wash these carrots first. Can you ask Eddie to get you down?" Buck asked.

"I was asking Eddie, silly!" Eliza replied.

Eddie felt his cheeks warm up at that.

"What?" Buck asked confused.

Eddie quickly got Eliza off the counter and put her down. "Off you two go. Have fun playing princess!"

"We're doing a tea party!" Eliza huffed.

Christopher gave Eddie a knowing look and smirked as Eliza took his hand. Eddie glared at him and Chris just chuckled as he left with Eliza.

"What was that all about?" Buck asked once they were alone.

"Nothing." Eddie gave Buck an awkward smile. "Did you know Tommy is dating someone named James?" He asked changing the subject.

"Yeah, I've met him! Seems like a cool guy," Buck replied.

"You're not jealous?" Eddie asked surprised.

"No, Tommy and I ended on amicable terms and we're still great friends. Why would I be jealous?" Buck asked. "Besides, I have my eyes on someone else." He added so softly that Eddie almost missed it.

Eddie didn't know why, but he felt his heart break at that and he pretended not to hear Buck.

"You want a beer?" Eddie asked, going over to the fridge instead. He opened it to hide the sadness that he was sure had fallen over his face.

"Sure," Buck replied. "By the way, I was talking to Chris earlier, and he seems really nervous about his college applications."

Eddie frowned and gave Buck his beer. "Really? He didn't tell me anything."

"Yeah, he's scared that he won't get into NYU," Buck told him.

"Him and me both," Eddie mumbled under his breath as he took a sip of his beer.

"Eddie..." Buck gave him a disapproving look. "You have to let him go sometime."

"L.A. has some of the best schools in the country! UCLA, USC, even Pepperdine. Hell, he can even go to UCSD. That's like 2 hours ago," Eddie told him. "I don't get why he wants to go all the way to New York."

"He's not trying to get away from you, if that's what you're thinking," Buck told him. "He just wants some independence."

"Then why does it seem like he's trying to get away from me?" Eddie asked and was well aware that he sounded like a petulant child.

Buck came over to him and put a hand on Eddie's shoulder while giving him a sincere look that almost melted Eddie's heart. "Eddie, Chris is YOUR son. You gotta trust that he will make the right choices."

"He is MY son and that's why I'm scared that he will make wrong choices," Eddie told him honestly. "Remember Kim?"

"I'd rather not. If you keep thinking about your greatest failures then you will never see your wins." Buck pulled his hand away and Eddie missed his touch. "You have made some great decisions in your life too, so trust that Chris will too. But Chris is also allowed to make mistakes too. You can't expect him to be perfect."

"Is that what he thinks? That I want him to be perfect?" Eddie asked worriedly. He never meant for Christ to feel that way.

"Sometimes," Buck replied. "Maybe talk to him?"

"I will," Eddie assured him. "And Buck?"

"Yeah?"

Eddie gave him a genuine smile. "Thank you."

"You're welcome," Buck replied and took a sip of his beer. But then he abruptly pulled the bottle away and furrowed his eyebrows. "By the way, did Eliza call you Dad?"

[scarlet-traveler]

“I like you.”

It was spoken into the quiet of the kitchen during a lull in the conversation, Eijirou’s voice a soft hum but still ringing loud and clear for both boys to hear.

Bakugou’s back was turned to him, the blond busy cooking at the stove; he hadn’t told Eijirou what he was making yet, but by the spices tickling his nose he was sure it would be at least a little intense on his tastebuds. Even if Eijirou couldn’t see the food though, he had a perfect view of Bakugou freezing, his shoulders going rigid and the wooden spoon he was using to stir the pot stilling. And maybe Eijirou went a little rigid too in his seat at the island as Bakugou looked at him over his shoulder, the shock evident on his face. “What…?”

Eijirou honestly hadn’t intended to confess to Bakugou like this. He’d wanted it to be special, something they would both hold as a cherished memory for years to come. He’d still been working out a plan of how to tell him, because Bakugou Katsuki deserved the best, and Eijirou had also been working up the courage to tell his most prized secret of the last few months to the other boy because he didn’t know if he fit in the category of “the best”. His low self-esteem could be annoying like that sometimes.

But still. Those three words were meant to stay hidden, on the tip of Eijirou’s tongue but never escaping past his lips. Yet now, as those words had sprung forth without his volition, he didn’t want to take them back and stash them away for another time.

Eijirou really liked Bakugou, and his friend needed to know that. He liked Bakugou’s strength, his drive, his determination. He liked that he never backed down from a challenge, whether it be a villain he was fighting during his work study or attempting to cram a week’s worth of pre-calc into the squad’s heads in the hours leading up to a test.

He liked that Bakugou wanted to be his friend, that he could see the best in Eijirou on the days he himself failed to, that he cared. He cared enough to sit up with Eijirou at ass o’clock in the morning, indulging him in a late-night meal when twin nightmares ruined their rest instead of trying to salvage a few more hours of sleep before classes later that morning.

It was always the little things with Bakugou, the unspoken actions to boost a mood or lend a hand, clumsy as he may be sometimes in his inexperience, and every time it made Eijirou’s heart swell so big he thought he would choke on the sheer amount of affection he felt for this boy.

He supposed it was about time that rather than gagging him, that affection just decided to spill out into the open.

So Eijirou didn’t try to take it back. He instead smiled, meeting those fiery red eyes that were now fully facing him, the gaze swimming with surprise, disbelief…and maybe hope?

“I like you, Bakugou,” Eijirou repeated, the warmth flooding his chest pushing his voice to be louder. On the other side of the island, Bakugou’s breath hitched, and the spoon dropped into the pot. “I really like you man, so much. I honestly didn’t want to tell you like this, I thought we would be out eating or something? I would’ve asked you out, maybe gotten you flowers, I dunno-”

“Kirishima, shut up.”

Eijirou’s mouth snapped shut with an audible clack. Bakugou’s eyes were still wide, and a pretty pink flush had accompanied the bloodshot eyes and dark shadows that had been at home on pale skin for the last hour. Eijirou thought Bakugou couldn’t look more beautiful.

He didn’t get a chance to savor it for long as Bakugou spun back around, resolutely not looking at him as he busied himself with the food again. It was then that the first tendrils of nerves crawled into his stomach. “I-It’s fine if you don’t like me back, I wanted to tell you anyway because you deserve to know. But um…what do you say?”

It was silent between them for a long moment. Bakugou’s quirk briefly crackled as he shook out his hands before reaching for bowls, ladling what looked like curry into each of them. The stove was flicked off, and spoons were dropped into the bowls with a loud tink. All the while, Eijirou chewed on his bottom lip, watching, waiting.

“I don’t want fucking flowers.” Bakugou brought the bowls over, sliding one toward Eijirou and taking the seat across from him. “We don’t need to go out and eat, either.”

Oh. Eijirou should’ve expected this reaction. He hoped the disappointment wasn’t visible on his face as he nodded and picked up his spoon.

“We’re eating here, anyway.”

Eijirou’s eyes snapped up to Bakugou. He still wasn’t looking at him, but the blush was still high on his cheeks. “You…are you calling this a date?”

Bakugou looked up to glare at him, even as his face grew darker, the color seeping toward his neck and tinging his ears. “Did I fucking stutter, Shitty Hair?”

The smile was back, wide enough to make Eijirou’s cheeks ache. He reached out with his free hand to grasp one of Bakugou’s, and the sea of warmth was at an all time high as Bakugou let him, fingers sliding between the gaps and squeezing tight, not letting go as they started to eat. Eijirou was right, the heat of the curry was intense, but it didn’t hold a candle to the way Bakugou’s small, pleased smile lit him up from the inside out.

~

Fic written for @krbkevents KRBK Month 2023 Day 9: Confession! Also on AO3!

[the1laff]

1. Are you named after someone?

Yes, my first name would is the feminine form of my dad’s first name. My middle name is a combination of both of my grandmothers’ names.

2. When was the last time you cried?

It’s been a while, usually in my sleep.

3. Do you have kids?

No, I was pregnant once but I lost him/her. I don’t plan on having any unless it’s after I finish college.

4. Do you use sarcasm a lot?

Never.

Jk, the real question is, when do I not?

5. What sports do/have you played?

Tennis, volleyball, and hunting. (Idk if you consider hunting a sport but I do)

6. What’s the first thing you notice about someone?

On the job, I’m doing a rapid assessment and it’s usually their level of consciousness (LOC) and if/where there’s blood.

Off the job, their teeth and posture. They tell you a lot about a person, and bad teeth really bother me.

7. Scary endings or happy endings?

Broad question, my life is full of scary endings but when reading or writing (which is what I think this question is asking) I prefer happy endings.

8. Do you have any special talents?

I’ve always been insanely skilled at phlebotomy with both needles and IV’s, even from the start when I was learning. My initial intubation success rate is the highest within my company. I have developed a great set of evasive tactics to keep myself in one piece on the job. I can down 10 pots of coffee and dry scoop pre workout on a shift and still be in a normal bp range.

As far as more typical skills, I’m a singer with a very adaptable voice that blends well with various others (if your a singer then you know some voices just don’t mix). I’m an artist and writer. Avid card player, I next to never lose. When I was in my mothers strict, controlling, isolated religious environment cult, they made me learn ASL so I could translate for a deaf woman, so I kinda remember some but not enough to hold a conversation anymore.

9. Where were you born?

Abilene, Texas 🤠

10. What are your hobbies?

Sleeping first and foremost. If not I can be found reading, writing, drawing, singing, baking, dancing (think 2 steps and waltzes, I don’t care for line dancing), playing tennis, and practicing sutures.

11. Do you have any pets?

No, we had a few cats but my husband is bad luck for them, they always die within a few weeks so I decided we weren’t gonna have any more.

12. How tall are you?

5’9.5”

13. What’s your favorite subject in school?

Core class: science/math

College course: I liked pathology bc it was interesting and dosage calc. bc it was easy.

14. What is your dream job?

Not sure if I want to be a flight nurse or ED nurse. I tried to enlist as an army medic and do the med evac flights but I’m apparently not old enough. (I’m old enough to go die but not old enough to save those dying even tho I have the education for it already) I have my eye on a VA post op wing back home where I can be a post op nurse for vets.

15. What color are your eyes?

Hazel, fluctuates between various amounts of green, grey, and blue.

Tags, idk 15 people, sorry if you’ve been tagged, I don’t have the energy to check rn: @binch-i-might-be @jittyjames @ovrarches

15 questions for 15 mutuals

❤️ Thanks for the tag, @descendantdragfi, @obscurus-noctem and @fluttereyes  ❤️

1. Are you named after anyone? Not directly, but my mother chosed a name of  a british singer she liked when she was living in UK, years before my birth. The singer was already completely forgotten when I was born though. :p

2. When was the last time you cried? Full tears, I don’t remember, but last week, I had really teary eyes reading a journalist I was follwing on Twitter was dead.

3. Do you have kids? No.

4. Do you use sarcasm a lot? To me, to life, quite often, though I’m probably more ironic than sarcastic, but  not to others, it can be hurting. Yep, I’m a soft heart. :p

5. What sports do you play/have you played? Gosh, none, I’ve always hated sport (and it’s mutual). I walk and do yoga alone, but I don’t consider that as sports.

6. What’s the first thing you notice about other people? Actually it depends on who are these people, where we are, and why I meet them!

7. Scary movies or happy endings? Happy endings can quickly run on my nerves, so scary movies (but they can run on my nerves too! :D)

8. Any special talents? Nope, absolutley none. I can’t even move my eyebrows in a funny way or whatever useless talent, so let’s not talk about outstanding ones!

9. Where were you born? Paris, France.

10. What are your hobbies? Huuuuh, would you believe it if I’d say Sims and CC making? :D Also baking and gardening (though that last one is more something I do because I want to eat healthy vegetables, not because I have a passion for gardening). And reading!

11. Do you have any pets? No

12. How tall are you? 1,78 m

13. Fave subject in school? It used to be literature but it would be history nowadays.

14. Dream job? Not needing to work would be my dream life. Then, a dream job? :/ 15. Eye colour? Blue.

Tagging (I tried to pick people who haven’t replied already, sorry if you did in the meanwhile! ;D Also, feel free to ignore, as usual!): @tragicpixel, @treason-and-plot, @tsims, @camisulsul, @nessysims, @grandelama, @eisfee, @pixelbots, @lilidebergerac, @simlicious, @laurademelza, @simsaralove, @kimmiessimmies, @pancakebobs, @theplumdot

[allthingsfangirl101]

Study Session Part 2–Steve Harrington

Part 1

Steve's POV

After our off-topic conversation during one of our study sessions, Y/N and I tried to go back to normal. As hard as I tried, I couldn't. Every time I was with her, I wanted to wrap my arms around her and press my lips to hers.

A couple of days after we danced around admitting our feelings for each other, Y/N broke up with William. We kept meeting for our study sessions like normal. Nothing happened. Neither one of us brought it up. We acted like normal.

Two months later, we were still acting like nothing had happened. It was starting to drive me crazy. I briefly stopped thinking about Y/N as I took my pre-calc test. The next day, I bounced my knees nervously as I waited to get my test handed back.

I let out a sigh of relief, a small chuckle when I saw the grade I got. Not only did I pass, I got a B+. I couldn't remember the last time I got that good of a grade on a math test. I instantly wished Y/N was in my class so I could tell her.

I jumped when the bell rang. I grabbed my stuff and bolted out the door. I scanned the hallway, looking for any sign of Y/N. When I couldn't find her, I headed to her locker. She usually stopped by her locker before heading to lunch. My stomach wouldn't calm down as I waited for her. The longer it took, the more restless I got.

Her tree.

Y/N liked to eat lunch under this tree in the courtyard. It was shaded and no one ever bothered her. Well, today, someone would.

I saw her from across the courtyard. I slowly started walking faster toward her.

"Y/N!" I called out when I couldn't resist anymore. She looked up, smiling when we made eye contact. That's when I started sprinting toward her. As I did, she slowly stood up.

Right as I got to her, I wrapped my arms around her. I lifted her off her feet and spun us around. The whole time we spun, she giggled. I finally put her down, her still laughing.

"What has gotten into you?" She teased.

I grabbed my graded test out of my backpack and showed her. Y/N gasped as she took my test from me. She looked up at me with a huge smile on her face. I gasped, turning into a laugh, as she threw her arms around me.

"I knew you could do it," she whispered.

"Thanks to you," I whispered back. I squeezed her before slowly letting her go. As we broke apart, I instantly saw Y/N's bright red cheeks.

"We should celebrate," I said, not letting her go.

"What did you have in mind?"

"How about that date we should've had like two months ago?"

"Are you serious?" Y/N stuttered, slowly stepping out of my embrace.

"I am," I shrugged. "Let's do this, Y/N. Let's finally do this. I know I said I was fine waiting, but I'm starting to get. . . I mean, I know we agreed. . . I want to take you out, treat you the way I promised I could treat you."

"I'm sorry I've been making you wait so long," she sighed.

"Hey," I said quickly. I gently grabbed her hands, pulling her a little closer to me. "Don't apologize, Y/N. You had every right to take your time before moving on. And I was okay with it. But. . . I have to be honest with you; I'm dying."

Y/N chuckled, looking down at our hands. She squeezed my hands, slightly swinging them.

"I'm tired of waiting," she whispered.

"Then how about tonight?" I asked, not bothering to hide how eager I was. "I can pick you up. Take you to dinner. Maybe a movie or something?"

"Sounds great."

                                * * * * *

A few hours later, I drove to Y/N's house to pick her up. Even though her house was only down the road from mine, I didn't want to make her walk. I couldn't help but feel a little nervous as I walked up to the front door and knocked. My heart jumped into my throat when Y/N's mom opened the door.

"Hey, Steve," she smiled.

"Hi, Mrs. Y/L/N," I greeted. "I'm here to pick up Y/N. Is she ready?"

Y/N's mom looked up their stairs and sighed. She hesitated before looking back at me.

"Why don't you head on up there?"

"Thanks," I nodded as she moved aside for me.

I jogged upstairs and headed toward Y/N's room. I gently knocked on the door.

"Just a minute, Mom!" Y/N yelled from inside. "I still can't figure out what to wear."

I slowly opened the door, making sure I wasn't walking in on anything I shouldn't be seeing.

"I'm sure whatever you wear will be perfect," I said. Y/N gasped and spun around.

"You're here," she said slowly. "You're not supposed to be here until. . . Now. You said you'd pick me up now."

Y/N sighed as she tossed the dress and skirt she was holding onto her bed. She took a shaky breath as she nervously wiped her hands on the dress she was wearing.

"I'm sorry, Steve," she sighed. "I just. . . I couldn't. . . I don't know what to wear."

Y/N sat on the edge of her bed, nervously playing with her hands. I walked over and sat next to her.

"I have put on like fifty different outfits and none of them were right," she started stuttering. "One makes me look short. Another makes me look fat. None of them are worthy."

"Worthy of what?" I asked. She slowly looked at me, tears building in her eyes.

"Of you," she whispered.

I leaned in and pressed my lips to hers. Y/N gasped in surprise but quickly relaxed against me. Our lips slowly started moving in sync. I broke the kiss, not wanting to push Y/N further than she was comfortable.

"I think you look beautiful," I whispered, slowly pulling away. "It doesn't matter what you wear because I will think you're beautiful in whatever you put on. You could wear pajamas and you'd still be the most beautiful girl in the world."

"Give me two minutes."

I laughed as Y/N jumped up, grabbed something out of her closet, and ran into her bathroom. While she changed, I looked around her room. A few pictures were updated and she had more books on her shelf, but not much had changed.

I looked back when the bathroom door opened. I smiled when I saw Y/N was now in a pair of jeans and a nice blouse. I've seen her in this outfit before. She wore it to the first day of school this year.

"These are my favorite pair of jeans," she said, looking down at her outfit. "And my mom says the color of my shirt brings out my eyes."

I closed the gap between us and gently lifted her chin with my finger. I leaned in and pressed my lips delicately to hers. I felt her smile as she kissed me back. I slowly broke the kiss, both of us breathing heavily.

"She was right," I whispered. I smiled at the blush that formed on her face. "You ready to go?"

Y/N started biting her bottom lip as she nodded. I used my thumb to pull her lip away from her teeth.

"Don't overthink," I whispered.

"I wasn't."

"I know you," I teased. "You chew your bottom lip when you're overthinking. Please, Y/N, don't overthink it. Don't overthink us."

[soul-controller]

Back To School - Part II

As classes let out on Friday, Danny couldn’t help but eagerly anticipate the weekend that lay ahead. Being the womanizer that he was, the man’s schedule had been fairly hectic over the past few weeks with all of the various love interests that he had. But as Danny checked his calendar and saw that his upcoming date was with Tiffany, one of the hottest cheerleaders in his grade, the teen couldn’t help but anticipate the night more and more with each passing minute.

The girl had been relentless in her pursuits of dating him, but although that was quite the turn-off as Danny preferred to lead the relationship given his dominant personality, he couldn’t deny that Tiffany’s determination was quite hot. With a nice rack and a curvy figure that left his dick constantly at full mast, it was safe to say however that Danny was willing to forget any potential turn-offs in the pursuit of getting off and spending time with an absolutely gorgeous woman.

Luckily, Danny had no football practice prior to the date, so he was afforded enough time to get home and relax for a bit before going to have a fun time with the gorgeous woman. Throughout the entire drive home, the kicker visualized himself on the field in between plays, staring at Tiffany’s gorgeous rack bounce and jiggle with each dance, kick, and jump she did for her cheer routines. In fact, Danny’s mind had been so preoccupied by the sight that he didn’t even notice himself running off of the road slightly and knocking over multiple mailboxes and trash cans that were dotted along the curb. But even if he did notice, Danny wouldn’t have cared anyway. His new family was rich and his cocky attitude refused to feel any guilt for his behavior, so the incident and any complaints could be easily swept under the rug via a sizable (at least to others) check without any real consequences.

After getting home and having the family maid make him a snack, Danny found himself bounding up the grand staircase of his family’s mansion and jogging down one of the long hallways and into his bedroom. Upon taking a moment to set the plate of food on one of his dressers, the jock quickly peeled himself out of his school outfit entirely. Opting not to take the opportunity to jerk himself off again to his own reflection, Danny instead grabbed a pair of athletic shorts and pulled them on. Now free-balling like the hunky straight man he now was, the man quickly powered up his gaming console while grasping onto a controller, headset, and the plate of food to begin the usual after-school gaming session with some fellow football jocks.

“Hey broskis, what the fuck is up?” Danny said with a chuckle, smirking as his football friends joined the lobby and its voice call for some Call of Duty matches. For the next two hours, the man and his bros absolutely demolished several teams as they played ruthlessly to assert their dominance even through a video game. In between each match though, the group of men spent the time being stereotypical bros while ridiculing each other and others around them. Even when a friend discussed their long-term girlfriend, Danny wasn't afraid of chiming in and giving his own feedback. Despite the friend being mad as he cruelly ridiculed his girlfriend for her “tiny tits” and high-pitched voice, the biggest offense came as the man exclaimed how hard it had been trying to convince the girl to go to the next level with him.

“I don’t know dude, she seemed quite eager to put out when she messaged me a while back asking for a good fuck. Bro, have you ever thought that maybe you’re just not her type? Maybe you’d have better luck hitting up that nerdy chick Alyssa from Pre-Calc? I’m sure she’d be eager to get laid… As long as you don’t mind those bug eyes, buck teeth, and nasally voice,” Danny snorted, chuckling to himself despite the man angrily yelling at him to shut the fuck up and leave him alone. 

Attempting to avoid conflict while still remaining in control of the conversation, Danny wasted no time jumping into directing the subject towards the most important thing: himself. Without any sort of remorse, he eagerly began to detail his evening and impending date with one of the many girls eager to get on his cock. Just the thought of her was enough to get a rise out of Danny, as made evident by one hand leaving the controller to go toy with his leaking manhood.

“Damn dudes, I can’t stop thinking about Tiffany. Fuck, she’s gonna look so good down on her knees with one hand wrapped around the back of her head. You can tell how eager she is for me to dick her down… but could you blame her? Of course she’d want to get fucked by the studliest man on the team!” Danny said, his rambling sentiments eliciting a mix of chuckles and annoyed gasps throughout. Even when the guys attempted to defend themselves and their own attractiveness, the kicker knew that none of them could compare to him! No homo though…

After finishing up one more round of CoD, a quick glance at the clock forced Danny to end his gaming session so he could prepare for the day. Upon departing with a few more snarky comments towards his friend, Danny finally exited the game and shut down his console as he headed towards his immense walk-in closet. Given his family’s lavish lifestyle, the jock was always able to purchase the latest and most fashionable clothing around, as evident by the countless designers that he found himself having to decide between.

Struggling to decide, Danny began to recollect the current plan for his date to help hopefully guide his fashion decision. Tiffany had wanted something simple yet private, which is why he was able to quickly remember the location of his date: Lovers’ Lookout. According to Danny’s dad, Lovers’ Lookout had been one of the biggest hookup spots in town, but given the fact that his dad was quite old and no one at school had ever talked about it, the man knew that the prime location had clearly lost all of its popularity in the years since. For years since that one talk with his father, Danny had soon incorporated the location into his roulette wheel of areas of romantic rendezvous.

Given the fact that the area was a cliffside vantage point on the outer edge of town, Danny knew that he had to dress somewhat warmly just in case of potential car trouble. But given the fact that he was going to take one of the many older cars that his father had collected, Danny wanted to lean in and fully embrace the image of a 50s bad boy. With his mind made up, Danny pulled on a simple white shirt along with black dress pants and a leather jacket.

As he prepared to head out and pick up his date, Danny took a moment to pull on one of his favorite gold chains and check himself out via his phone’s camera. Turning his head to check out his sculpted features and make sure that his facial hair was trimmed evenly, Danny flashed a smile before pressing record to send a little video message to his date.

“Hey babe, just wanted to let you know that I’m on my way,” he said, his body language and dialogue fully showcasing his status as a teen heartthrob. “I can’t want to see you,” Danny continued, his voice deepening into an alluring and sexy register as he flashed a wink and ended the recording. Damn, I’m good, he thought as he sent the video and walked out of the door to go pick up his date…

* * * * *

After pulling into the driveway of Tiffany’s house, Danny quickly fired off a text to tell the cheerleader that he had arrived. The man knew that he had a reputation as the school’s biggest heartbreaker, so the option of avoiding the woman’s father and just waiting outside seemed like the best route to take for obvious reasons. While he waited though, Danny couldn’t help but take off his jacket and pull out his cell phone. Upon popping a piece of gum into his mouth to make sure that his breath was good enough for the makeout session that would most likely be occurring later, Danny opened up TikTok and began to record a video for the thousands of followers that he had. 

Sitting stationary in the parked car, Danny simply recorded himself singing along to some random pop song and grinning into the camera before quickly uploading it. Given his status as a bonafide hunk, the man knew that his fans would take anything they could get, which worked well for him given his innate desire to do things with fairly low effort. Just as the video finished uploading and the likes already began to pour in, Danny watched as the girl finally exited the house and made her way into his passenger seat. Luckily for him, the girl dressed quite sexily, so as soon as she slid into the seat and looked his way with a full face of makeup and styled hair, the man’s dick was already growing rock hard by the sight. “Ready to have a great time?” Danny cockily inquired, winking to the girl as she put on her seatbelt while he rapidly backed out of the driveway and sped off.

While he had just mainly agreed to the date due to his eagerness to fuck someone, Danny still outwardly appealed as chivalrous by taking the girl to a lavish date at the fanciest restaurant in town. His dad was wealthy to the point of having a black card, so it wasn’t anything to Danny to drop over $100 on a simple meal for a date. Although the girl couldn’t stop raving about the food and the atmosphere of the restaurant, Danny’s eyes remained permanently trained on the two prominent breasts that were just an inch shy of fully heaving onto the table. While the girl’s tits were always one of his main reasons why he agreed to the date, her dress fully accented the breasts to the point where it was just one heaving bosom in his face so severely that Danny’s mind could only think about feeling them up. 

As such, when the waiter came around asking for dessert, Danny was quick to shut that idea down by paying for the bill and bringing the girl back to the car. Although she seemed grumpy at the moment about the lack of some fancy dessert, he knew that she would quickly enjoy the alternative as soon as she realized where the two of them were going. Throughout the drive, the man couldn’t help but glance over and stare at the woman’s exposed thigh from the high slit in the dress she wore. In fact, as his eyes continued to move upwards, Danny couldn’t help but see the color of the woman’s bright panties and think about just how badly she wanted him. Why else would she wear such a bright colored panty, he thought to himself as he looked up and stared at her face. Luckily for Danny, he was a fairly competent driver so no matter how many times his eyes peered away from the road, the jock remained perfectly in the lane as he drove up to Lovers’ Lookout. 

As soon as Tiffany caught a glimpse of the gorgeous view of the sun setting over the mountainous terrain, Danny knew it was game time from the look in her eyes. Happy and eager to oblige, he quickly flicked on the car radio and followed her to the backseat so the fun could finally begin. With a passionate intensity emerging within both of their young and horny minds, the two teens were quick to pull each other out of their respective clothing while consistently passionately mashing their lips together in a hot yet sloppy display. “Oh fuck,” she purred while taking Danny’s shorts and underwear off, looking at his lengthy dick as the perfect challenge. With him now totally nude and her dress in a heap on the floor of the car, it was safe to say that both of them enjoyed the visual of each other nude, especially Danny as he stared at her curvy figure and perky tits now on full display. 

Before he could really do anything with those hefty melon breasts, Tiffany was quick to tuck her hair behind her ear as she leaned down and began to run her tongue along Danny’s rock hard cock. Although he was clearly dribbling pre-cum down the shaft, she made no mention of this as she left no inch of his cock untouched. In between his moans of pure pleasure, Danny was quick to take control of the situation by running his meaty masculine hands through her wavy blonde hair and leading her open mouth onto his throbbing manhood. “Aw fuck yeah,” the jock growled, starting to pick up the speed in which he led her mouth up and down his shaft. It was quite hot to witness, but even hotter as Danny heard the girl’s eager moans creating a beautifully horny symphony that filled the entire car.

Just as he found himself rushing towards an early ejaculation though, Danny quickly pulled the girl off of his dick and began to return the favor to her. For several minutes, his mouth ran along the girl’s sizable nipples and made her moan extremely loud whenever his tongue grazed them. It was fucking hot, but even hotter was when Danny slowly got down to her crotch and began to eat her out as well. His reputation as a woman-pleasing casanova was something that Danny absolutely embraced, but that also required certain attributes that weren’t necessarily something that he enjoyed doing. One of those things was the focus on putting his mouth anywhere near the girl’s genitalia, but despite the reservations, Danny still did it to keep that moniker valid and to prevent himself from cumming too early. If it was up to him though, he would have just came and then waited a few minutes before fucking her and cumming again!

Luckily though, it didn’t take long before the girl pulled Danny up from her crotch and into a passionate kiss. With one hand now firmly grasped against one of her breasts, the other hand frantically flailed about in search of a condom. After about a minute of awkward searching, Danny was finally able to pull one out of a backseat cubby hole and place it onto his firm manhood. Looking up at Tiffany upon putting it on, it was clear by the glimmer in her eye and the tongue that ran across her lips that she was ready for every inch of him. 

So, as she spread her legs and pulled him closer, Danny wasted no time inserting his thick cock right into her needy pussy. Building a steady rhythm, the two of them continued to moan and curse through labored breaths as he began to create enough force to create a resounding slapping noise that filled the luxury car. Within no time, Danny felt himself finally rushing towards completion with an intense fury that prevented him from stopping the hardcore thrusting that he was doing. Just as he reached climax though, the man’s attention soon shifted as he heard a strangely familiar voice over the radio. 

“I promise that you’ll never find another like ME-E-E!” 

Immediately, Danny felt himself moan and throw his head back as the usual lightheadedness emerged. But as he continued to shoot his load, it soon became clear that this was no typical post-nut experience. Instead, the personality of Finn, the 27-year-old German school teacher and die-hard Taylor Swift fan quickly returned to the forefront of his mind. “Wha- what the fuck!” Finn groaned, slowing his rhythm as the continuing influx of memories caused him to realize that these weren’t strange memories, those were his real memories and life!

But as he looked down at the nude 18-year-old cheerleader underneath him, Finn couldn’t help but gasp as he quickly pulled out of her and jumped back to the opposite side of the car. How did this happen, he thought to himself, the last thing I remember was looking at myself in the bathroom?! 

Of course, this lack of memory of the next morning meant that it had completely erased Finn’s knowledge of the fact that he was now an 18-year-old hunky American jock. So, to add further to the surprise, a quick glance down towards his own body left him even more shocked as Finn saw the extremely tanned and buff skin that he now possessed.

“Holy shit, what the fuck!” Finn cried out, understandably shocked by the sudden re-emergence of his old personality. “I’m young and hot?” he said aloud, clearly questioning whether this was some sort of strange dream that he was somehow feeling incredibly lucid for. But no matter how hard he pinched himself or tried to close his eyes to “wake up”, it seemed that those old methods weren’t going to bring him back to his original reality.

“Of course you’re young and hot, I wouldn’t be here if you were some ugly creep!” the woman said, trying her best to get the man back on track as she was still eager for more attention and sexual pleasure. Upon looking at her, Finn couldn’t help but question what to do. Should I tell her the truth even though she’ll think that I’m crazy, or should I just play along and keep being the young jock that I apparently am now, he asked himself. But as he looked down and saw the condom-covered dick that he now possessed, there was a sudden but innate desire for physical intimacy. So after shrugging his shoulders, Finn decided the best course of action would be to just go along with whatever was happening. As he moved back in to start passionately kissing the woman once more, there were few thoughts running in his mind besides the influence of teenage hormones. If this was a dream that he woke up from tomorrow, this surely would be one of the craziest dreams Finn had ever experienced. But if this was truly a new reality for him, there was something about it that made Finn feel like he could certainly get used to it…

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[insertsickusername13]

haven't reread this or edited it. idc. it's cute. enjoy.

word count: 3k

warnings: child abuse (rich's whole situation with his dad---it's not bad, and it's only mentioned in one paragraph, but it's there enough that it's worth mentioning)

Jake was standing in the center of the crowded hallway leaning heavily on his cane. Freshmen and seniors alike twisted and stumbled out of the way as they rushed down to lunch. His feet were shoulder width apart and his chin held high, much like a rock in the center of a rushing river.

Rich was hyper-aware of Jake from the second he slipped out of pre-calc, his attention (much like everyone else’s) immediately drawn to him. Tall. Confident. He stood like he belonged to the extent those who had to dodge out of his way were convinced they were the ones in the wrong, not him.

“And they say Christine’s dramatic,” Rich greeted. He sidestepped out of the current of students into the safety of Jake’s shadow. Jake’s gaze flickered from somewhere in the distance down to Rich and immediately his expression morphed from one of deep concentration to rosy excitement. Then, as if realizing himself, Jake pressed his lips together and snuffed out his happiness like a flame (not the first fire Jake had put out, both metaphorically and literally).

“We need to talk,” he said simply, tone barren and controlled. Rich masked the instinctive panic that promptly flooded the room at those words behind an amused quirked eyebrow.

“Intense opening line,” he commented, “8/10. Delivery could’ve been better.”

Jake’s purposeful intensity faltered just long enough for him to duck his head to hide his summertime smile. Rich, despite already sorting through all the worst-case scenarios—death, hatred, squips and secrets—did a small, mental fist pump. Having the newfound freedom to think his own thoughts without anyone there to criticize him besides his own subconscious meant spending an increasing amount of time dedicating himself to seeing Jake smile, watching him laugh, and feeling no shame at the way life seemed to return to every previously colorless corner of the room, the way his heart so hard he was convinced it was a destructive force rather than a romantic one.

“Shut up, I’m being serious.”

It’d been a minute, at least, and the halls were slowly emptying out of bystanders. Rich shifted back slightly, now free to be farther away from Jake without being trampled. Self-preservation kept him from creeping closer even as he shivered at the cold that slithered into the room at Jake’s distance.

Rich tried to keep his voice from trembling as he got out, “Okay, then. Talk to me.”

Jake shook his head and Rich frowned.

Rich felt dread, yes. Though it couldn’t have been past noon, a bluish-black dusk almost the same color as a bruise was swimming in his vision and dragging its sharp nails over every inch of exposed skin. Rich was restless in his desperation to get as far from this conversation as possible, a feeling so overwhelming he had to consciously talk himself down from an anxiety attack.

But where Rich’s anxiety manifested itself in his fidgeting fingers and tapping foot—something that wasn’t out of the ordinary for him, even a relatively calm Rich was a jittery Rich—Jake looked like he’d just watched tragedy strike an entire nation.

“Not here,” he muttered, so quiet Rich was convinced he didn’t want him to hear. “…Library? Or—”

“Library works,” Rich smiled, “We can watch horny freshmen make out in the back while we… break up? Platonically? I don’t know what you’re planning on.”

Jake didn’t seem to find Rich’s facetiousness amusing. He looked down at his shoes, seemingly deeply entertained by the intricacies of his poorly tied laces.

“Perfect,” he whispered, his voice taking on a customer-service tone he adopted when he knew his natural voice would be on the verge of breaking. Rich couldn’t even find it in him to summon another shitty joke.

Jake led Rich to the library briskly, ignoring the cafeteria completely while Rich cast a longing glance back at his lunch table, where all his friends were laughing without a care in the world.

Jake was facing straight ahead and a step ahead of Rich—his face was out of view, but Rich could hear the faint sound of him reciting a speech to himself, rehearsing whatever he was going to say to Rich in a moment. Rich strained to hear every—any—word, but all he got were empty shells of sorry and we can fix it.

“Okay,” Jake said as he pulled out Rich’s chair and sat across from him, his cane leaning against the table. They were sat in the back of the library by a window. Jake dropped his backpack on the ground next to him and unzipped it, pulling out a binder Rich had never seen before. Strange, considering Rich had sat through every pre-test, stress-induced haze while Jake paced the living room, reciting definitions from flashcards and making Rich read aloud passages from binders that only slightly resembled the one on the table between them.

Rich let out a tiny sigh of relief that he hoped wasn’t noticeable. So it was just a test or presentation—something important enough to Jake’s final grade that he was freaking out enough that he’d totally missed the mini-mental breakdown he’d caused Rich.

Jake took a deep breath. Rich leaned back, prepared and patient to listen as Jake first apologized for bothering him, then made Rich quickly skim the source material before quizzing him on every possible question or logic fallacy that would most surely never show up on a test intended for high schoolers. Rich wasn’t bothered when Jake’s expression changed from nervous to one of pure determination and cynical analysis—he was well accustomed to this version of Jake, one who compartmentalized until all the dark and scary feelings were just files to be sorted rather than genuine emotions to be processed. He’d get through it eventually, but only after he’d solved whatever problem he was facing.

“Physics?” Rich guessed. Jake looked up from his papers, barely aware of what Rich had said, his focus completely and utterly on the task at hand.

“What?”

“Physics? Is that what we’re studying?”

Another moment of awkward silence before Jake finally seemed to understand.

“Oh,” he said, “No. No, worse. Here.”

He passed Rich a paper—a timeline, starting December 3rd. Rich didn’t get the chance to read a single word before Jake shoved another paper into his hand, this one a calendar for this month—April. Then a list. A picture. A color-coded set of notes. A survey? Rich scrambled to organize himself as Jake shoved yet another paper into his hand, this one a printed-out, annotated article from one sketchy health website or another.

“Do you want a chance to review the material before I start, or can I just jump right in?”

Rich looked up helplessly from the April calendar and squeaked, “Huh?”

Jake studied him for a moment, gaze a stormy mix of expectancy and determination. Then, having come to a conclusion Rich wasn’t privy to, he said, “We’re going to start on page one.”

Rich blinked at him.

“Timeline,” Jake clarified, “The first paper I handed to you.”

Rich struggled through the pile of papers until he pulled the timeline out. He displayed it to Jake proudly only to be met with a nervous smile that quickly faded into a grimace.

“Alright,” Jake said, his voice quivering in a similar fashion to a guitar string—musically, beautifully. He clenched his paper to the point it crinkled. “As you can see, it starts December 3rd, the day I first visited you in the hospital, and ends yesterday.”

Rich’s eyes flit from the beginning to the end of the timeline to confirm Jake’s words. He nodded, unsure as to why Jake’s tidbit about the hospital was necessary.

“So upon first contact post-fire, we ignored the topic of the fire and simply discussed the play and Jeremy, correct?”

“Uh, yeah?”

“Good. And you didn’t apologize until the 8th, the next date marked on the timeline.”

Rich found the 8th, labeled ‘THE APOLOGY’ in all caps. Rich searched the words for a hidden meaning, praying it’d also be the birthday of some American president or treaty signing.

“I was, at first, resistant, but by the 11th I had come to forgive you. I visited again and we discussed possible steps forward.”

Unsurprisingly, the 11th was the next marked date. Rich swallowed a confused sob.

“Yeah, I know,” Rich said, the words tumbling out of his throat like his body was trying to purge him of a poison, “What the fuck?”

Jake continued without so much as looking up.

“On the 20th, you were released from the hospital. You, your brother, and I all spent Christmas at my apartment—purchased before the timeline began—over the 25th and into the 26th. Does that sound right to you?”

“Yes. Still kind of dark times, though, so if we could skip to—”

“You moved in on January 5th.”

Rich’s memory of that day lived serenely in the back of his mind to be summoned with perfect clarity whenever he felt unworthy or scared. It had been impulsive and dangerous—Rich had called Jake in the middle of the night, bruised and scared and exhausted. He’d come home from a six-hour shift on the verge of collapse, his burns itching and screaming, the lingering memory of the squip spouting deprecations at the way he winced with every step. He was unlucky enough to find his father still conscious in the living room, anger emanating off of him in waves of violence that manifested in thrown dishes and kicked over trashcans because where the fuck have you been?! You think you have any right to parade around with your rich friends while your family is stuck here?! You should’ve been—

The list was long. You should’ve been cleaning the dishes, making dinner, doing the laundry. He made it worse by crying.

He stayed kneeling in the kitchen long after his father passed out on the couch and, with shaking hands, because he didn’t want to cry anymore—he really, really didn’t want to cry—he called Jake.

Jake offered every cliche affirmation and more. You’re enough, you’re more than enough, I love you, you deserve better, you’re beautiful, you’re smart, I forgive you, I forgive you, I forgive you.

All the while, Jake was texting Michael. He still had his casts on—he couldn’t drive, and Michael told Rich later that he’d never seen someone manage to sound so panicked over text.

Less than twenty minutes later, Michael had snuck in the window. He cleaned the broken dishes, set the trashcan upright, and picked Rich up off the floor and dragged him kicking and screaming out of his father’s house.

“No, no, no, I can’t leave, he needs me, he needs me—”

Upon collapsing into Jake’s arms ten minutes later, Rich realized he needed to be loved a lot more than his dad needed him. He didn't go back.

“Yeah,” Rich breathed, “I remember.”

“January 15th: The first incident happens.”

“Incident?” Rich asked blankly, his mind still replaying the car ride from his father’s to Jake’s house.

“Yes. Any urges to kiss you or—or more, will be referred to using the term ‘incident,’ whereas more innocent urges—possibly wanting to go out on a date, or hold your hand, things along those lines—will be referred to using ‘episodes.’”

“Mhm,” Rich confirmed mindlessly. Jake’s words drifted up and around him much water falling off his face and body rather than sinking into his skin. It took Jake’s heavy gaze—staring expectantly, his lips parted, forming questions Rich couldn’t hear.

Wait. What?

“Go back,” Rich rushed out, back straightening. Hope hadn’t sunk in yet—he wasn’t quite there. Only confusion. “What the hell?”

Jake nodded once. He’d been expecting this reaction.

“Beginning January 7th, I developed a crush on you.”

Instead of turning to Jake, Rich turned to the papers for confirmation. He scoured the timeline for the words crush or love. All he got were incident #4 (#7, #9, #54, #78) and episode #7 (#15, #29, #156).

Shaky, he rushed to the next paper. A list of twenty entitled Modes for Moving On. The article from Healthline or Web MD: Psychologists Estimate Crushes become a True Love After Four Months.

“I’m sorry,” Jake whispered, his voice so simply scared Rich was convinced he must be hiding from a monster under the bed or the boogyman—a childish fear. “I didn’t mean to.”

“You—” Rich started. He distantly heard Jake make a strangled sound but was too lost in flashes of the past three and a half months. Jake, flinching away when Rich got too close—Rich blaming it on the fire. Jake going out with three different girls in a week with no sign of stopping until Brooke slapped him and told him to stop playing with people’s feelings. The way he’d listened to Brooke but had been staring at Rich the whole time, his shoulders hunched over as he tried to curl in on himself.

“I… I don’t understand,” Rich whispered, though of course, by now, understanding was settling in his spine and gripping his nervous system like it was the only thing tethering him to reality. Jake liked him. Jake liked him.

“I’m trying to fix it. That’s the point. The article—”

Jake was in such a blind rush to show Rich that he practically fell from his chair, kicking it back with a ferocity as he stood and winced, his legs unprepared for the sudden weight on them.

“Fuck—the article, four months, right? And—” he hastily re-situated his chair and stumbled over to Rich, his hands clumsily shuffling through the papers until he managed to shove the Healthline/Web MD article in Rich’s face.

“See! Four months! I’ve still got two weeks, right? I’m not in love with you. I’ve got—I’ve got a plan. I looked up a bunch of stuff on the internet on how to move on, and it all told me to like, avoid you and stuff, but I can’t do that, so instead I’m ‘loving myself’ and ‘working through lingering feelings’—just a bunch of weird self-care stuff, but I’m fucking desperate, I’ll—”

He straightened suddenly, struck with the realization he’d just been so close to the source of all his problems. His expression singed and pride marred, he backed up a step, posture erect and his faked smile tight. He shook out his hands and turned to the sky for a quick moment. When he finally spoke again, it was in the same presenter’s tone he’d been offering since the beginning. In control; calm. His acting was worse than it had been in the play. Rich could hear every bit of panic running under his tone.

“Following the ten-step plan outlined on page seven, these feelings should be resolved by the 13th, with two days of cushion time in case one or two steps are thwarted or interfered with. I thought it right to make you aware of, of my intentions. I do think it would be best if I—”

Rich did the only thing he could think of to stop Jake from talking. He threw the nearest highlighter at Jake’s face.

For a moment afterward, there was only silence. Jake’s eyes were crossed to try and see where he’d been hit, right below the nose, and Rich was so mortified by his own unfounded actions to even begin to apologize.

“…You could’ve just said you don’t feel the same,” Jake finally murmured. He looked like he was physically fighting melancholia from his face and trying to stuff it into one of his file cabinets. He failed, and he had to turn away so Rich couldn’t see. He appeared to be blinking back tears.

“Oh my god, you are so fucking dramatic.”

Jake pouted. Rich laughed delightedly and got up to take Jake’s hands in his own. Jake stayed staring at the floor.

“Next time, just tell me how you’re feeling, yeah? Would’ve saved a lot of trees.”

Jake sniffled.

“I like you," Rich grinned, "If you somehow missed that. For a lot more than four months, too.”

Finally, Jake looked at Rich, his expression open and hopeful, a smile comparable to everything springtime and flowery blooming on his face.

“Really?” he whispered.

“Yes, really.”

“Oh. Oh my god.”

“Yeah.”

Unable to stop himself any longer, Rich got up on his tippy toes, smiling softly, in an attempt to kiss Jake for the first time. His crush liked him back—

Jake jerked away, eyes wide and mortified.

“Oh my god.”

“What?”

“Oh my god, that was so fucking embarrassing. Oh my god. I literally told you when I fell in love with you. Oh my god. We’re not even dating.”

Rich tried to suppress his smile—just for Jake’s dignity—but a small laugh escaped him before he could stop himself. Jake’s face went from a rosy red to the color of wine. Rich wanted to kiss it off him.

“No, stop it," Jake said, "don’t say anything. This didn’t happen. Oh my god. Get out! Now!”

“What?” Rich said, his amusement so complete in essence he was sure Jake could feel it like a slap across the face, “Why?”

“Because!!!” Jake screeched, “I need to destroy all the evidence! Then I’m just going to ask you out like a normal person, Jesus fuck. No. I’m just going to ask Chloe to kill me. She’ll be glad to. Goodbye.”

Jake spun back to the table and, without organizing them in the slightest (something so un-Jake-like Rich seriously considered the possibility that this whole thing had been orchestrated by a clone), shoved the papers back into his backpack, uncaring that half of them were ripped or crinkled. When he turned back to Rich, it was like nothing had ever happened. He looked like he had that morning: happy in a Jake way. Almost like a golden retriever, ready to do whatever necessary to make the people around him smile. In control. Suave and nonchalant; a flirt.

Jake conjured a look of confusion onto his face.

“Dude, what the fuck, you didn’t tell me you were French.”

“What?! Dude—” Rich giggled into his hand, so delighted by the entire affair he couldn’t even really be confused by Jake’s sudden assumption that Rich was French, of all things, “—I’m not fucking French.”

“Really?” He squinted at Rich, “Because I could’ve sworn Eiffel for you.”

He flashed Rich a grin and a peace sign before swooping down like he was going to kiss Rich. He stopped last second, less than an inch away, and carefully cupped Rich’s jaw. Rich watched as the confident exterior Jake had managed to summon last second slipped into a pure, childish excitement. His breath caught for a moment, so utterly elated at the idea that he was this close to kissing Rich—

Rich tried to close the gap. Jake’s fingers dug into Rich’s jaw, something that could’ve quite possibly been considered violent had it come from anyone else, but Jake seemed so set on making sure Rich wasn’t hurt that the show of strength came off as affectionate rather than scary. Rich frowned.

“When you tell people how we got together,” Jake seethed. Though his humor had darkened into a bad boy character that suspiciously resembled the love interest of a romance movie he and Jake had watched together a week ago, it was offset by the fact Rich had seen the utter awe on his face a moment earlier. “You tell them about this, yeah? That��” with his free hand, he motioned vaguely to the table behind them. “—that never happened. I fed you a nice pickup line and you liked it. Understood?”

“Perfectly,” Rich said, his voice so quiet and seductive Jake was forced to pull away before he did something he’d regret.

Then, the second they arrived at their lunch table, “Jenna motherfucking Rolan, you will not believe what just happened—”

[outoftheframework]

my proposal for tropes we as a fandom should adopt in all fanworks going forward: Duke Thomas edition

So every fandom has tropes and characterization quirks that have been generally accepted into fanon and, like, maybe? they were originally based on some obscure comic panel from the 80s or something but it doesn’t really matter because we’re all just,,, cool with it? Like for example- in the dc comics fandom, an art piece could show 3 of the bats that look virtually identical except one of them is holding a box of cereal so that one is obviously Dick Grayson. . . Y’know?

Anyway, these things usually come up naturally I guess but I’ve been here a while and it’s finally time to put my foot down. It’s high time for Duke Thomas to be more in fanon than “the sane one.” Because he might be the relatively new guy but he is certainly fears no gods or laws of the land just as much as the other bats, lemme tell ya. 

TL;DR here are character quirks (”canon-based” or otherwise) that we should all really latch onto seriously I’m begging y’all to make at least one of these happen-

Duke “Habitually Jumping Out of Moving Vehicles” Thomas

This one’s actually based in canon y’all; Duke did indeed yeet himself out of the back of a cop car and off of a bridge (in We Are... Robin). Normalize Duke’s wearing knee and elbow pads as Signal because jumping out of a car turns out relatively fine once and then suddenly Batman’s rooftop disappearing act seems mellow compared to the amount of times Gordon has whipped his head around to see a now Signal-less backseat. 

Like, he’s going 60 mph?? And he didn’t even hear the door open?? and tHE DOORS ARE STILL LOCKED??

Imagine this leaking into civilian life and Bruce waking up to a blurry photo of Duke mid-escape from a limousine on the front page of the Gotham Gazette.

(more under cut)

Duke “Puzzles are my Passion” Thomas

Duke is ~canonically~ very skilled at both solving and concocting riddles (as a child during that time where The Riddler just,,, controlled Gotham, he worked non-stop on riddles, trying to make the perfect one). Please y’all- let Duke solve puzzles. Have the other bats ask him for help after 36 hours straight of brooding over some brainteaser that Duke works out within the half-hour. He texts a picture of the solution scribbled out on loose leaf in the margins of his pre-calc homework because this boy shows his work. 

My guy is a word-cross FIEND. A mind-sweeper speed-runner. That guy who mails into the Gazette to correct a solution in the “fun & games” section and also ps that photo is not of me I am simply a polite young man who is much too busy writing into the paper in the year 2021 to jump out of limos-

I also would love to see this integrated into the type of cases he investigates / runs into on his daytime patrol. Like, obviously the criminal activity is going to dramatically differ before and after sundown, but that doesn’t make Duke’s work any easier or less important. It’s a different skillset; he has to work differently. Instead of jumping into fights, halting mob meetings, saving civilians in dark allies, etc. Duke has to sort through all of the moving pieces before they all converge into something catastrophic. 

It’s a known fact that criminal organizations in Gotham make and execute a lot of behind-the-scenes plans during the day specifically not to run into the bats. And Duke knows and monitors this shit all by himself; his work is crucial to logistics and information gathering for the bats as a whole. Now criminals have like, a 2 hour gap between bat-shifts to try and get stuff done. But Duke would 100% set traps on timers or lead them on this pre-set convoluted goose chase  to distract them until the night bats come out and to let himself enjoy the whole thing playing out on the news while he finishes homework that’s due at midnight.

Duke “I Know a Guy” Thomas

So in going off of the basic concept for the “We Are. . . Robin” run in combination to his general likability, Duke has a lot of friends all around Gotham. Okay, sure, he doesn’t have a Super best friend or a Speedster on speed dial, but he does know this guy who details cars up on West 35th and will tell them all about the new mods on Black Mask’s transport vans if they come through the third floor window and bring takeout. 

Bruce and Tim will be waiting for the facial recognition software to identify at least a partial match off of security cam footage when Duke pulls into the cave, takes one look at the screen, and says “Oh, that’s <insert name, address, abridged life story, and known associates here>.” This also brings in the opportunity for Duke to have some sort of perfect recall for faces, voices, names, etc. which I think could be a really cool element for his position as the batfamily member who has a lot more personal interaction with the people of Gotham.

I’m also into the idea of a lot of people knowing/telling stories about Duke. Not to reference the Chuck Norris meme but almost like the Chuck Norris meme lmao. Think about Jason mentioning his brother to someone and she replies, “Duke Thomas? Like that Duke Thomas? The one who swam across the harbor because he said it’d be faster than the subway and it actually was?” These stories have varying levels of truth to them but Duke will never confirm nor deny when he gets random calls from family members yelling “you dID WHAT”

So those are my top three, and the following is a little speed-round of headcanons :)

Duke has a super expressive face. Like when he’s relaxed around family, you can tell exactly what he’s thinking and how he’s feeling by his visual reactions to things

Duke rotates through picking up new and revisiting old hobbies at a pretty rapid pace. Some hobbies include: bullet journaling, origami, viola, cello, synth, conversational basics in multiple languages, up-cycling and embroidering clothes

Duke has a really fucking adorable smile. He can’t help it. He’ll try to grin sarcastically or smug to be annoying but his smile just cannot be anything other than endearing. He also has a very specific booming laugh that’s an absolute treasure to hear, because it’s the most genuinely happy thing ever. 

Duke unironically enjoys Signal by Twice even though the first time he heard it was after Steph had set it as his morning alarm.

So.

Come and get your food, I guess.

Feel free to add on if you’d like! I’d love to see anything you guys write/draw/etc. based on anything from here if you feel compelled to do so!

Stay safe and be well :) 

[vixenwrld]

F.R.I.E.N.D.S

y/n x rafe cameron

warnings: swearing, SMUT 18+ (over stimulation, kissing, oral- fem, protected sex- the pill babes)

requested: nope

a/n: y/n and rafe have a very interesting relationship.

word count: 1.9K

"ENOUGH RAFE" . I was infuriated with him, the fights he always had to start "because of me" according to him. Yet another night Rafe Cameron punched a dude senseless, claiming it was to defend me when i know the truth. For the past year our relationship went from us hating each other to secret friends with benefits. Fucking each other whenever we felt like it. We established rules, such as no strings attached, don't let anyone know and so on. And over the past year he's repeatedly thrown and yelled in my face "We're just friend y/n get that through your head". But he would get in fights, defend me, protect me, and care for me like a person in love would.

Rewind to a year ago. It was another casual Saturday night in OBX, my annoying brother Topper throwing a party and all the kooks on Figure 8 contaminating my house with the smell of alcohol and weed. Topper being my twin was very against me being close to his friends claiming they're too old for me when in reality I'm 3 hours older than him. So he never liked when i showed up to parties at my own house, let alone hang around him and his friends. I didn't care knowing their opinions about me. It was always when Topper slipped away for some random girl when i took his place amongst his friends. They always claimed to like me better, especially Kelce. It was the normal night, Topper slipping away with some girl and i taking his place drinking with his friends. I was talking to Kelce when Rafe decided to show up coming right up to Kelce and interrupting our conversation to ask where Topper was to which he responded with "He's with some chick he met, Y/n and I have just been hanging out if you wanna join" Rafe rolled his eyes and grabbed a drink from the kitchen and took a seat next to kelce on the couch. Kelce and Rafe started to have their own conversation that I partially listened to but then the guy from my pre calc class last semester came and sat next to me. Which seemed to catch Rafe's attention right away.

His eyes drawn to the guy who was knowingly scooching closer to me, which only infuriate him. The guy's name was Daniel, he was really nice and he wasn't flirting with me just yet but to Rafe he was. I laughed at a funny story he told me when i noticed the jealousy in Rafe's eyes. it was when the guy put his hand on my thigh Rafe had a real problem. Now Rafe and i had a very weird relationship. constantly arguing which, not purposely, was lowkey very flirtatious. He called me princess or some other stupid nickname and i would tell him to stop and that i hated when he did but deep down i liked it and i knew it and so did he which is why he never stopped. So when Rafe got jealous over this guy making me laugh, it was only slightly shocking that threatened the guy saying if he ever talked to me again he would be a dead man. And when i asked him "Rafe what the fuck was that for" his only response would be "I know it's what Topper would have wanted" "Rafe can i talk to you for a sec" i asked him to which he rolled his eyes but agreed. I led him upstairs and into my room. he walked in first and i after him closing the door "alright princess you got me alone, now what" he asked mockingly. "NOW, you tell me what the fuck is your problem and you're not leaving here until you do" i told him. he then groaned at my request saying "I already told you, it's what Top would have done" "I don't care what Top would have done, I wanna know why YOU did it" i knew deep down why but i wanted to hear him say it. "Topper would have been mad if i didn't protect his baby sister, and i don't want that now do i princess". "Enough with the princess Rafe, i know you didn't threaten him because Topper would have wanted you to. Now spill it, why'd you do it" he rolled his at me and i said "We can go all night Rafe your choice, don't think i won't" Rafe in his position of leaning against my desk looking down, changed after that phrase, he paused and started smirking. He walked over to me, getting closer to me than he ever has. "You wanna go all night princess?" he almost whispered pushing my hair over my shoulder exposing my neck. his ring when coming in contact with my skin sent shivers down my spine. "Rafe" i whispered to which he then just shushed me. He started kissing my shoulder, i tilted my head exposing my neck to him more and when he kissed me it was game over.

a moan instinctively left my lips, Rafe sucking small purple bruises onto the sweet spot on my neck moving up towards my lips, they finally connected. The kiss was hungry and passionate. His hands found their way to my waist and mine to his back. scratching at his shirt wanting it off. "Slow down princess, we'll get there" he said smirking going back to my neck. moaning again from his actions. he removed my shirt "expecting someone tonight?" hinting at the black lacy bra covering my chest. he moved down my chest leaving purple marks. he reached the lacy cup of my bra and pulled it down. talking my nipple into his mouth, sucking and licking eliciting a moan of his name and a "Please Rafe, more" from me. he moved back up to my lips and pi

cked me up wrapping my legs around his hips taking me over to my bed and laying me down, taking place between my legs still kissing me. he took off his shirt and threw it somewhere as he moved down my body kissing and when he got to the jean shorts around my waist he looked at me and asked "are you sure you want this?" "yes Rafe, please do something" and with that he pulled off my shorts and threw them with his shirt "God these underwear are gonna drive me wild" he said looking at the deep red lacy thong that hid under my shorts, he started kissing my inner thighs moving up slowly. making sure to leave marks, he finally got to my core which was dripping wet by now from his actions. i could feel his breath on me teasing, "Rafe please, i need you" he removed the underwear the hugged my hips and threw it with the rest of our clothes "so wet for me baby" he said as his index and middle finger dragged through my folds gathering my arousal. he went in like it was his last meal, licking, biting, sucking, swirling his tongue. he was a pro. moans and screams left my lips as he tongue fucked my pussy. my hand found his hair pulling, moans sending vibrations into my body only caused me to moan more. his thumb moved to my clit rubbing small circles on it. "Rafe im close, so close" i warned him "Do it princess let go, cum on my face" he moved his tongue to my clit and started sucking and inserted his middle and ring finger in, pumping and curling his fingers. it only took that simple change of actions that had me cuming on his face. my legs shaked around his head. he moved up and kissed me again. i could taste myself on his lips. "Rafe fuck me, please" i begged him, i needed him inside me. "Patience princess" he grabbed my hips and turned over onto his back and had me straddle him. i started to unbuckle his belt and unbutton his pants. he lifted his hips to help and pushed down his pants and briefs. his shaft sprung out onto his lower abdomen. my eyes went wide at his size, i knew he was big from hearing about the random girls he's hooked up with but not this big. he lifted my hips and lined himself up with my opening and pulled my hips down. a loud moan came from the mouth as i sunk down. his size stretching me out. he started the move my hips against him. i placed my hands on his chest for stability as a i rocked my hips with his. up and down left right forward backwards side to side, he could have sworn i was spelling his name moaning his name out. "yeah princess, moan my name. no one will ever fuck you like this" and then lifted me off of him and put me on all fours and rammed into me from behind fast and hard from the start causing a pornstar moan to leave my mouth. rafe groaning at the moans and whimpers i made "that's it princess, let the whole house know"

Fast forward to now a year later. We fucked any chance we could, at the golf course? yes, his house? yes, the pool? yes, hot tub? yup. and many other shameful places. And i had no problem with being a moaning mess under him till now. At another party, some guy started touching up on me and i wasn't a fan but i could handle my own. But when Rafe saw, he almost went ape shit, he came over tearing the guy from next to me and punching his face to a bloody mess till i could finally pull him off of the poor guy. I dragged him to some random room as the party was at kelce's house and pushed him in before locking the door behind us. "Rafe you better get your story straight before you tell me what the fuck just happened, and the truth" "I didn't like the way he was physically harassing you, and neither would topper". "ENOUGH RAFE WITH THE TOPPER EXCUSES, you know sometimes when i act on YOUR actions and the thing YOU do, you shut me down and yell in my face that we're just friends asking if i need you to spell it out for me, and other times you do this shit. fighting some random guy claiming it was for Topper when i know it wasn't rafe i could have handled him myself and i know you know that . I mean seriously Rafe just tell me the goddamn truth" "I DON'T KNOW THE TRUTH Y/N, GOD I DO NOT KNOW. you're topper's sister it's not like i can do anything about how i feel" he tells me i can hear the sincerity in his voice. "Rafe you already have, we're literally fucking each other" to which just makes us chuckle "Listen Rafe, i really like you, and your actions tell me you like me too but fighting any guy that looks at me isn't gonna do anything about it. yelling in my face we're just friends also isn't gonna change your feelings" we don't do this mushy stuff so i could tell this was new for Rafe "I DO like you y/n but if Topper knew.. He'd kill me" "Rafe like i said we're already secretly fucking" i said with a chuckle. "so then what if we were secretly dating, hypothetically, what would you say?" "Hypothetically, i'd say take me on a date and we'll see".

i hope y'all liked this. the inspiration came from the some FRIENDS by Anne Marie. Send me requests if you guy want me to write something for you and your dreams ;)

[spatialwave]

Play the game, first lines!

Thank you @perpetualproductions for the tag. You're the best!

Rules: List the first lines of your last 10 (or however many you like) published fics and see if there’s a pattern.

---

can you trust me? (angus tully) "you loved angus tully."

crying never did anybody no good, no how. (angus tully) "you and angus had been best friends since kindergarten, inseparable through hundreds of playdates from the ages of five to fifteen."

angus tully, the barton boy tutor. (angus tully) "pre-calc wasn’t your strong suit, it never was, but you’d be damned if it you would let it get in the way of being accepted into an ivy league—harvard preferred."

dating angus tully (angus tully) "dating angus tully is something you hadn’t really considered when you first met him during summer break a few weeks after your graduation."

limoreau's first valentines day (limoreau) "jordan had ever spent their valentine’s day with a romantic partner. someone to kiss, cuddle and spoil with chocolates, flowers or a nice dinner."

limoreau at the club (limoreau) "after andre had left to find someone to go home with and luke disappeared on the search for fresh air, looking a bit worse for wear, jordan found themselves sitting alone with an empty champagne flute in their hand."

marie moreau: jealousy. (limoreau) "jealousy wasn’t a trait that marie was proud to experience, in fact, it left a sour feeling deep in the pits her stomach."

charmed. (limoreau) "marie and jordan had been fucking inseparable since their first kiss, having been caught by emma enough times that she began knocking on her own door."

limoreau getting high. (limoreau) "smoking weed wasn't as intimidating as those '90s anti-drug ads made it out to seem."

marie, the caretaker. (limoreau) "living a busy life as a student and t.a. had left jordan working anywhere from sixty to eighty-hour weeks."

---

Summary: so, i find that the first sentence of my stories tends to set the tone for what can be expected, like it always ties so well into the plot. i feel like maybe it's good engagement for readers?? i also never start with a conversation apparently, lol, i love me some internal monologue! honestly, this was really fun because i'm never intentional with how i start my stories. my writing hobby started as a pre-teen when i roleplayed online so i have a nasty habit of jumping in and hoping for the best LOL.

---

No-pressure tag: @bigdumbbambieyes & whoever sees this and wants to partake (use me as your tagger if you feel inclined. i would love to read yours <3)

[lilliagradiewrites]

go get her, kid. (peter parker)

Summary: Peter Parker is hopelessly in love with Tony Starks’ teenage daughter, and Stark encourages him to shoot his shot.

WC: 7.4k (holy shit)

Warnings: Bad language, , really nothing else. A lot of cute peter and a painful amount fluff. A tiny bit of angst too.

A/N: I found myself watching Tom Holland interview clips today and I just couldn’t help myself. Here we are: my first peter parker/ spiderman one shot! I have some Harry and Jj pieces in the works, so keep eyes out for that!

LET’S DO IT!!!

--------

Peter  found himself in this position far too often. Staring at you shamelessly while you worked away at whatever was on your desk, usually a school assignment or some tech project. His crush had been going on for quite some time, but it was getting more and more difficult to hide.

You and Peter had been best friends ever since your dad first recruited him. Something clicked between the two of you, causing an instant friendship. As time went on, you grew closer and closer to the superhero, and he quickly became your best friend. You began surrounding yourself with his friends without even realizing it, becoming close with Ned and MJ almost instantly. They were great people, and you loved being around them, but something about Peter was just different. Your energies matched perfectly for some reason. He got your humour, liked the same things as you, plus he was a great conversationalist and an even better listener. Some of your favorite memories were made with Peter.

Despite knowing practically everything about the boy, you were completely oblivious about his huge crush on you. Ned was the only person who truly knew, though many other people had their suspicions. The Avengers had an idea about it, considering you were what he talked about 90 percent of the time. MJ could tell because of the way he looked at you. When he looked your way, his pupils enlarged, his cheeks went pink, and the look on his face was entirely lovey-dovey. It was so obvious just in the way he gazed at you when you spoke.

He was looking at you in that way now, though you weren’t aware. He was meant to be studying (it was the whole reason he came over to your house, or at least that’s the reason he told you), but he couldn’t bring himself to care about chemistry homework when you looked so damn beautiful. Your hair was pulled back into a low ponytail keeping it away from your face as you worked. Your hands flew across the keyboard on your laptop, typing out something Peter probably wouldn’t understand. He was smart, sure, but you were intelligent in a different way. You were insightful and observant, you got things other people couldn’t begin to process. Your brain understood things in a different capacity than most. Peter assumes you got this trait from your father, who was the exact same way.

“What’re you typing? Something for school?”

You nodded, your attention not wavering from the laptop screen. “Yeah, an assignment for AP Lit.”

“Oh, that one project you told me about? With the essay and the powerpoint?”

You nodded again. “Mhm.”

Peter furrowed his brows, moving off your bed to come stand near you at your desk in an attempt to get a better look at what you were working so eagerly on. “I thought that project wasn’t due for another month.

“It’s not. I had an idea for the essay, and I figured if I get started early, I have more time to edit and perfect it.”

“You’re such a perfectionist.” Peter says with a light chuckle, looking at the state of your desk. It was both chaotic and organized at the same time. Pens, highlighters, pieces of paper, a book with annotations scribbled in the margins, notebooks with neat class notes printed inside of them in your pretty handwriting. They were all scattered about the surface, but Peter knew you well enough to know that there was always a method to your madness. As you observed longer, he realized that all of the items were in different sections on your desk, based on categories and subjects. He smiled lightly, realizing that this messy but technically neat surface was probably a very accurate representation of what goes on in your mind.

You finished the paragraph you were typing with a flourish, a satisfied smile resting on your lips. “There. I have a basic outline done for the essay portion. Obviously, I’ll have to go back and add a little more and elaborate on the points, but the basics are there.”

Peter glanced up at your laptop screen. His eyes were met with a never ending sea of typed out words. He smiled; this was so you. Your ‘outline’ is another student's essay doubled.

“You’re gonna write more than that?”

You looked back at him, and he saw your face for the first time during the encounter. His cheeks went slightly pink at the sight of you, and he prayed that you didn’t notice.

You didn’t, or perhaps you just didn’t say anything. You continued on with the conversation without skipping a beat, and relief washed over Peter because of this.

“Of course I am.” You stated with furrowed brows, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. “This is so boring and basic, and has no detail whatsoever. Anybody who reads the summary of the book online could write this. I want my teacher to know that I thoroughly read and understood the novel, you know? I don’t want to submit some surface-level shit, I want to really pick apart the undertones of and the meaning behind the story.”

Peter nods, pretending to understand what you meant. He’d barely been paying attention to the words you were saying, too encapsulated with your beautiful eyes to do so. You turned back around towards your work, causing your best friend to snap out of his trance-like state.

“Do you wanna watch a movie or something? I’m bored.”

You had now picked up a pencil and a highlighter, working on the chemistry notes he was supposed to be taking. “Don’t you have work to do, Pete?”

“...No.”

You paused your writing to gaze at him skeptically.

“So you did your book report for english?”

“Yes.”

“Your worksheets for pre-calc?”

“Mhm.”

“You read the assigned chapters for Pschycology and finished the quiz you had to take on them?”

A nod was your only answer.

“What about chem? We have notes, essay questions, assigned reading, and a formulas worksheet due next tuesday. Have you done all of that?”

Peter hesitated for a moment. “Yes, I have.” It was a clear lie. “Can we watch a movie now?”

“There’s no way you did all of that. Go finish your work, and then we can watch a movie.”

A groan escapes Peters lips as he turns, resting against your desk. “But that’ll take forever. Your dad kicks me out at 11:00. We’ll never have time to watch one.” He whines.

You smile slightly, unable to fight it. Not replying to your friend, you spin around in your chair, raising your voice slightly, “FRIDAY, connect to dad please.”, the command directed to nowhere in particular.

“Connecting to Mr. Stark.” The familiar robotic voice echoes throughout your room.

“What’s up, Y/N/N?”

“Hey, Dad? Can Peter stay a bit later tonight?”

“Why?”  Your dad’s voice replies through a hidden speaker, his tone almost accusatory.

“Because he wants to watch a movie but I won’t let him until we’re done with homework. We won’t have enough time to finish the movie if he leaves at normal curfew? Pleeeaseee, Dad?”

You can hear your father sigh. “Fine, but only because it’s not a school night and I’m feeling generous. He’s gotta be gone by one though, no exceptions.”

Both of you smiled widely, and you erupted in cheers. “Thanks, Dad!”

“Kid, be ready for training at eight. A later curfew doesn’t mean an exception from your early morning saturday sessions.” The statement was directed at Peter, who nodded, despite your father not being able to see him.

“Got it, Mr. Stark.”

“FRIDAY, disconnect.” You heard Tony’s voice from the other side.

“Disconnected.” The sound of the AI confirming the command filled your room, and the space fell into a brief silence once again.

You spun in your chair, turning to face Peter with a smug smile on your face. “There, now we can get our work done, and watch a movie. Satisfied?”

Peter nodded, giving a roll of his eyes and heading back over to his workspace on your bed, plopping down and continuing his assignments.

An hour and half later, Peter gave a heavy sigh, finally closing his textbook with a smile. “All done!” he announced proudly.

“With everything?”

“Yes, everything.”

You closed your notebook you’d been working in, standing up. “Great. I’ve been done for half an hour, I’ve been working on future assignments while I waited for you to finish up. Ready to watch that movie?”

Peter nodded excitedly. He loved watching movies with you, because you always cuddled up close to him on your bed while you watched. Peter loved being in close proximity to you, even though it made him a little nervous.

“What do you wanna watch?” He asked, beginning to clear his things off your bed.

“I don’t know. We can discuss while we go make popcorn.”

Peter’s eyes lit up; he loved popcorn.

“Okay!” He tossed the rest of his things in his school bag, zipping it up quickly and dropping it in the corner of your room. “Lets go!”

You chuckled at his childlike behavior, following him out of your bedroom door towards your kitchen. The entire journey down the stairs, down the hall, and to the kitchen was filled with Peter going on and on about movies he wanted to see.

You grabbed the microwave popcorn from the pantry, unwrapping it and tossing it in, starting up the machine.

You continued to listen to Peter as soft popping sounds filled your kitchen.

“Oh, you guys have Disney plus, right? What if we watched that new star wars show thingy? The mandalorian?”

You smiled at this statement. Though you didn’t see the boy in any way but a friend (at least that’s what you told yourself), you found Peter’s Star Wars obsession very cute.

“I mean, I would watch that, but I don’t think I’d understand it.”

Peter’s brows furrowed. “Why not?”

“Because I’ve never seen the movies.”

You watched in amusement as Peter’s jaw dropped, his eyes widening in shock. “You’ve NEVER seen the Star Wars movies? Are you kidding me, Y/N?”  

You laughed at his reaction, moving to fetch the fully popped popcorn from the microwave and transfer it into a bowl. “No, I’m not kidding. I’ve been meaning to watch them forever, but I guess I never got around to it.”

“I can’t believe this!” Peter exclaims in disbelief. “We’ve been friends for a year and a half now, and you’ve never seen the Star Wars movies? This is insane! I talk about them so much… did you just never understand what I was talking about?”

You shook your head, chuckling. “Nope, I never have. I kinda just let you talk about it, because I planned on watching the movies. I figured I’d understand what you meant when I watched them.”

“Holy shit… we’re watching the first one tonight, Y/N. No arguments, we’re doing it.”

You grabbed the now prepared bowl of popcorn, smiling at your friend. “Alright, let’s do it.”

You headed back up the stairs, the sound of your footsteps accompanied with the sound of Peter murmuring in disbelief as you made your way to your room.

Once the two of you arrived at your destination, you closed the door, placing the bowl of popcorn on your still cluttered desk.

Peter climbed into your bed, while you rummaged through your drawers in search of comfy clothes. “I’m gonna change into pj’s before we start, i want to be comfy.”

Peter nodded. “FRIDAY, put Star Wars: The Phantom Menace on Y/N’s TV.” He spoke out in a slightly raised voice. The movie appeared on your screen, waiting to be started as you changed.

A few moments later, you emerged from your bathroom, now wearing a pair of Nike shorts and a slightly oversized t-shirt.

“Y/N, this is about to change your li-” Peter’s voice trailed off as he looked at you. The oversized shirt you were wearing… was his.

He choked on the piece of popcorn he’d been eating. “I-is that my shirt?”

You looked down on what you were wearing, realizing that it was, in fact, Peter's. “Oh shit. Yeah, sorry. You left it at the lab once, dad gave it to me to give to you, and I guess it just got mixed in with my clothes. I’ll wash it and give it back.

Peter shook his head, coughing again. “No, it’s okay. You can keep it. It looks better on you anyway.” his cheeks went pink as he realized what had just left his mouth. He hadn’t meant to say the last part.

Your cheeks went even pinker at the compliment, which you couldn’t deny made your stomach flutter a little bit. “Okay, thanks.” You smiled at your friend, climbing into the bed beside him. You cuddled in close to him, probably closer than need be, but Peter didn’t seem to mind.

“FRIDAY, start the movie.”

---

A few hours later, the credits were rolling, and Peter was red in the face. You had fallen asleep halfway through the movie, and had moved even closer to him in your slumber. You were now full-on cuddling the boy, and he had no idea what to do. Your leg was moved over his, your head lay on his chest. One arm thrown around his waist. He liked having you this close, but his stomach was in a constant state of butterflies, and he was worried that the sound of his heart beating loudly in his chest would wake you.

He didn’t know what time it was, but it must’ve been close to one, because a knock sounded from the other side of your bedroom door.

Without waiting for an answer, Tony entered the room. “Alright, kids, it’s almost curfew, time to wrap it up…”

His eyes landed on you and Peter, cuddled up in your bed.

“Kid, what the hell is going on here?”

“Mr. Stark! Um, Y/N fell asleep while we were watching the movie and she kinda… I don’t know.. Ended up like this? Nothing’s going on, I swear, it’s just… I didn’t want to wake her up…”

Peter’s face was the color of a tomato at this point. Stark still had his suspicions about the boy’s intentions, but had a feeling that Peter was telling the truth. “Alright, then. You’d better get your ass home and get some sleep. Like I said, you don’t get a free pass from training because you were cuddling with my daughter till one am.”

Peter’s eyes went wide. “No, Mr. Stark, I- We weren’t… I Wasn’t…”

Stark chuckled at the boy’s flustered state. “I’m screwing with you, Kid. Now get the hell out of my house. I’ll see you at 8 AM sharp at the compound”

Peter nodded frantically. “Yes, sir. 8 AM. Got it.”

Tony turned and left without another word, leaving Peter slightly panicked. Did Mr. Stark think that something was going on between him and Y/N? Would he be mad if there was? Peter didn’t know what to think, but he knew that he should probably leave before Tony decided to come back.

Peter climbed carefully out from underneath Y/N, setting her head gently on her pillow. He tried his very best not to wake her as he moved out of the bed.

“Goodnight, Y/N. I’ll see you tomorrow, okay? Love you lots.” Peter whispered to his ‘best friend’, planting a sweet kiss on her forehead. With that, he slid your window open, climbing out of it and swinging his way home.

Peter was completely oblivious to the fact that Tony had been standing quietly outside your door when Peter said his goodbyes, and Tony saw the entire encounter. The ‘goodnight’, the ‘i love you’, the sweet forehead kiss.

Tony had his suspicions, but that night it was confirmed: his newest recruit had it bad for his daughter.

Strangely, Tony didn’t find himself terribly angry over it.

The next morning, you awoke to the sound of your alarm blaring frustratingly loud. You groaned at the noise, picking up your phone to turn it off. The time on your phone screen read 7:00 AM. Groaning again, you pulled yourself reluctantly out of bed. As much as you hated getting up out of bed, you knew you had to if you ever wanted to complete your training. Your father had promised you that you’d get a spot on his team if you trained hard enough, and you were extremely determined. It had been your dream for years to become an Avenger, so you had been training your ass off for months to earn your spot.

This is how all of your Saturdays had begun for many weeks. An alarm going off at seven in the morning, waking you up to get ready for training at eight. It was a normal routine for you at this point, but for some reason the early wake up never got easier.

You moved about your regular morning routine, heading straight for your bathroom to brush your teeth and wash your face. Once your basic hygiene was done, you brushed through your hair, changed into some clothes (your training uniform was at the compound), grabbed your phone, and headed downstairs.

You made a beeline for the kitchen, where your father was already making his morning coffee. When he noticed your presence, he gave you a tired smile.

“Morning, Y/N/N. Sleep well?”

Still half asleep, you gave an exhausted nod. “I shouldn’t have stayed up that late last night. I’ll yell at Peter when I see him. He always manages to convince me to let him stay late.”

For some reason, your father gave a light chuckle at your words. “I bet he does, sweetheart.”

Your brows furrowed at his statement. Something about his tone of voice didn’t sit right with you. “What’s that supposed to mean?” You ask, making your way over to fix yourself a cup of coffee.

Your father smiled smugly at you, passing over the coffee pot and a mug. “Nothing, honey. Be ready in fifteen.”

Still suspicious, your eyes followed him as he placed his coffee mug in the sink and moved from the room. Why was he acting like this? Did Peter do something last night? You remembered falling asleep halfway through the movie, not being able to make it through the whole thing. Had something happened while you were sleeping?

Deciding not to let it bother you, you pushed the interaction from your mind, focusing solely on fixing your coffee. You were barely functional without it, and you knew you needed to be fully aware for training. You had to prove to your father that you could keep up with the Avengers, and that you’d be a useful asset to their team.

You downed the coffee quickly, knowing you had only a few minutes left to get ready. When your father gave you a time warning, he always meant it. And, you knew all too well, he would leave you behind if you were going to make him late.

He’d done it twice before.

Once you had finished chugging the remnants of your coffee, you placed the mug neatly in the sink, right beside where your father had left his. The drink had been an instant pick-me-up, and you automatically felt more awake. You found yourself getting more and more excited for the day ahead of you. Though waking up early on saturday mornings was a pain in the ass, you did enjoy training. You got to exercise, learn about cool technology, and screw around with your best friend. What wasn’t there to like?

Now that your best friend had crossed your mind, you pulled out your phone to text him. You sent him a message every morning, or he sent one to you. It was just a thing the two of you did. Over the past year the two of you had been close, it became some sort of routine.

Y/N/N: morning spidey. u awake?

Within moments, he was typing out a reply. He always answered your messages quickly.

Spidey: yes i am :) ready for training? I’m gonna kick ur ass in sprints today

You chuckled lightly at his response. You and Peter had always been insanely competitive towards each other, and it really jumped out during training. Unfortunately for you, Peter usually won the challenges. You always blamed it on the fact that he had more experience and super strength; he blamed it on the fact that ‘you suck’ and ‘he’s just that awesome’.

Y/N/N: u can try, but idk how that will work out. I’ve beaten u in all of the other sprints for weeks.

Spidey: doesn’t matter. I’m showing out today

Spidey: bring ur a-game, irongirl.

You smiled at the message.

Y/N/N: always do, spiderboy

He started typing back immediately, and you knew exactly why. He called you irongirl to screw with you, so you had begun calling him spiderboy to get on his nerves. It worked every time.

Spidey: Y/N!!! It’s spiderman!!!

Y/N/N: spiderboy!!! It’s nova!!!

Spidey: ugh. Ur impossible.

You grinned widely. Your playful banter with Peter has always been one of your favorite parts of the friendship.

Y/N/N: but u love me anyways :)))) see u soon

Spidey: u better be glad i do. see u soon

You reread the texts, unable to fight the smile on your face. Everytime you interact with Peter, you remember how much you truly love him. Being an avenger, and the daughter of one of the smartest and most famous men on the planet, wasn’t easy. Peter was the only one who had a taste of the madness that was your life. Having him around was having a sense of normalcy, and so were incredibly grateful for him.

Your thoughts were interrupted by the sound of your voice being called from the front door of your house.

“Y/N! Time to leave!” Without hesitation, you locked your phone, slipping it into the pocket of your sweatpants.

You hurried towards the front door, not wanting to be left behind again. When you arrived, your father was already standing there, holding the door open. You gave him a smile and a quick thank you for holding the door, then made your way out. The driver was already waiting patiently in front of your house. This was one of your dad’s six drivers.

“Morning, Bernard.” You say kindly to the driver, climbing into the back seat of the range rover. “How are you today?”

“I’m doing wonderful, Y/N. How are you?” The older man replied. You really liked Bernard, he was one of your favorite drivers. He was an older man, in his mid seventies, and you found him to be the sweetest person in the universe. Sometimes, he’d bring you your favorite candy when he used to pick you up from school, and he was always so considerate and kind.

“I’m good. Tired, but good.”

The man smiled at your reply. By this point, your dad had finished locking up the front door of the house, and he climbed in the backseat beside you.

“Good morning, Mr. Stark.” Bernard said professionally to his new passenger, and your dad nodded as a reply.

“Morning, bernard.”

The conversation ended there between the two men. Your father wasn’t a very social person with people he didn’t know, and Bernard was aware of this fact. He mostly talked to you when you were in the car, and Tony went on his phone and did Lord knows what.

“How is Dorothy doing? Is she feeling better?” You asked the man as he began pulling out of your driveway. Dorothy was Bernard’s wife, and she’d gotten sick the week prior. Given her age, Bernard was very worried about her.

Bernard smiled at your question. “Much, much better. They released her from the hospital yesterday, she’s back home and doing great. Thanks for asking.”

“Of course!” You grinned back. “Did you ever find out what she had?”

“Pneumonia, just a very bad case of it.”

You nodded in understanding. “Well, I’m glad she’s better! I was worried when you first told me.”

The conversation continued, talking about anything and everything as you drove to the compound. He told you about his wife, his four kids and what they’re doing. His granddaughter had a baby a few days before, and he was extremely excited about it.

After a 20 minute drive, you pulled up to the building you knew so well. Bernard went to the normal procedure of getting through the front gates, and then pulled up to the front of the compound.

“Well, here we are.” Bernard announced, parking the vehicle. You and your father began climbing out of the backseat.

“Thank you, bernard. Tell your granddaughter I said congratulations!”

He wished you a kind goodbye, and then you were gone, leaving the car and heading towards the compound.

When you walked into the main section of the building, you spotted your best friend in the kitchen. You had to admit, he looked incredible, standing near an open window in the early morning light. He was already dressed in his sleek, black training uniform. It was tight against his body, showing off his muscled body. Sometimes, you forget how beautiful Peter is.

“You’re staring…” A singsong voice came in your ear. You whipped your head towards the voice to see your father walking away from you, smirking. You stood there, feeling slightly confused. Had you really been staring at Peter?

At times, you forget that Peter is only your best friend. The two of you act like an old married sometimes. You spend all of your time together, and you know each other so well.

Strange feelings you couldn’t understand had crept up on you before, especially recently. You couldn’t deny Peter was attractive, and he was a great person, too. How could you not love him? The issue is, you found yourself loving him in a different way than before…

You shook your head, clearing your thoughts. You couldn’t be thinking about this right now, it’s not the place or time. Peter was standing right in front of you, and you needed to be focused for training.

You could process your feelings and emotions at a later time.

You began walking up to Peter, who was leaning up against the counter holding a cup of coffee.

“Morning, loser.” You said teasingly, greeting your friend. His head snapped in your direction, and he smiled when his eyes found you. (You thought you could see his cheeks go pink, too, but you forced yourself to ignore it.)

“Hey! How’d you sleep?”

“Pretty good.” You replied, leaning against the counter beside him. “I didn’t even notice that you left last night, I was really out. Did my Dad come in and tell you to leave?”

The pink in Peter’s cheeks darkened at your statement. Of course, this was the perfect time for your father to reenter the room. “Yeah, I did. He seemed very comfortable, but I kicked him out at one.”

Peter and your father were making direct eye contact. Your dad had that stupid smirk on his face, and peter was bright red.

You looked between the two of them, not knowing what to think. Before, you were just suspicious, but now it was confirmed: something happened last night between the two of them, and you were determined to find out what.

Hours later, you’re completely exhausted from training. You worked your ass off, and had successfully beat Peter in sprints.

“That’s right! You lost! How amazing is spiderboy now?”

Peter rolled his eyes in mock annoyance. “Whatever, Y/N. I let you win.”

Your jaw dropped. “You did not! I won because I’m better!”

Peter just smiled at you. You took a swig of the water bottle in your hands, turning around to look at your friend as you did.

The sight you were met with was very sweet. Peter stood there, smiling at you with a look you could only describe as adoration. You looked back at him, a small grin resting on your face.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” The brunette boy says cheekily.

“Why are YOU looking at ME like that, Parker?”

You took a step closer to him, his eyes widening slightly at your movement. He said nothing in response to your question (though it felt more like an accusation), and you smiled again.”Got nothing to say?” Your voice was barely a whisper.

“Parker!” You jumped what felt like 20 feet in the air at the sound of Natasha’s voice, breaking up the little moment between you and Peter.

You stepped back away from him, and you couldn’t help but notice the sadness flash across his face before he turned to the other woman in the room.

“Yeah, Nat?”

“Tony needs your help in the lab. I believe his exact words were ‘he needs to be here in five or I’ll kill him.’ A few minutes have already passed, I’d start running if I were you.”

Peter’s eyes widened for the second time. “Oh, shit, okay. Thanks, Nat.” He turned his head quickly in your direction. “I’ll meet you in your room when I’m done, okay?”

You nodded with a smile. Peter planted a quick kiss on your forehead before jetting off in the direction of the lounge.

Grinning to yourself, you turned towards the sink, your back facing Natasha. You begin cleaning out your now empty water bottle, thinking over the previous interaction with Peter. You loved when he kissed your forehead.

“So, how long have you liked him?” You were so deep in thought, Natasha’s voice made you jump once again. When you’d fully processed her words, your cheeks went pink.

“I’m sorry, what?”

“Oh, don’t give me that. I know you like him.”

“Like who?” Play dumb. That’ll throw her off your trail… right?

“Peter! Come on, you’re caught. Just admit it, Y/n, you’re making things harder on yourself.”

Finally, you sighed. Drying your hands on a towel, you turned reluctantly back towards Nathasha. “Is it really that obvious?”

The woman broke out into a grin at your words. “Of course it is! You two are hopelessly in love with each other. It’s almost hard to watch.”

Your cheeks went pink at her statement. “With each other? Oh, no. You mean I’m hopelessly in love with him. It’s not mutual. I’m just his best friend.”

Nat rolled her eyes dramatically. “Oh, come on! ‘Just his best friend’ my ass. He loves you, Y/N. He’s even more obvious than you are.”

You shook your head quickly. “No, I promise you’re wrong.”

She looked at you pointedly. “I was right about you, wasn’t I?”

“Yes, but…” Your voice trailed off. You couldn’t argue with that. Nat grinned smugly at your reaction.

“That’s what I thought. Please confess to him when he meets you in your room later. It’s painful to watch, I can’t do it any longer.” And with that, Natasha was gone, leaving you alone with your thoughts.

Was it really thought obvious? Could everyone tell how you felt about peter? You could hardly even tell how you felt about him; the line between best friend and crush had been blurred for so long. If everyone could tell that you were hopelessly in love with your best friend, you would be incredibly embarrassed.

Even worse… what if Peter could tell that your in love with him?

You shook your head, as if clearing your thoughts. No. You couldn’t think like that. Of course he didn’t know; he would’ve said something.

Right?

Sighing, you walked off towards your room to take a shower, pretending you weren’t going to think of him while you were in there.

---

While Natasha was exposing your feelings, you were completely oblivious to the fact that Tony was doing the same thing to Peter in the lab.

When the boy walked in, Peter fully expected that he was being called for one of three reasons.

One: Tony had a new mission for Peter.

Two: Tony needed help with an experiment.

Or, three (the scariest option): Tony wanted to scold him for (albeit unintentionally) cuddling with his daughter the night before.

Peter could only be described as apprehensive as he walked carefully into the lab, where Tony was hunched over a table, working on something that Peter couldn’t see.

“Mr. Stark?” Peter spoke nervously, a timid way of letting Tony know of his presence. “Nat said you needed me. Is that true, or was she just trying to get rid of me?”

“No, no, I called for you.” Tony replied. He made a few last touches on whatever he was working on, then turned around towards peter. “I wanted to talk to you.”

Okay, option two is eliminated. Now, the question at hand is: will it be option one or three?

“Oh, okay. What about?” Peter said casually (or at least, that's how he hoped it came across.)

Tony gave a pointed look to the boy before speaking again. “My daughter.”

Peter’s eyes widened slightly.

Shit, shit, shit.

Option three it is.

“Is this about last night sir? I swear I can explain-” Peter was quickly speaking.

But, before he could finish, Tony was cutting him off.

“This isn’t about last night, kid. I mean, it kind of is, but not really.”

Peter’s brow furrowed.

Unknown option number four?

“What do you mean, sir?”

“I saw what happened before you left last night. The forehead kiss, the ‘I love you,’ all of it.”

Peter was bright red in seconds. “Oh…”

“Do you love my daughter, Peter?”

The boy’s cheeks somehow managed to go a darker shade of pink.

“I-I uh.. O-of course I do, she’s, uh, she’s my best friend.” Peter stammered out.

Tony narrowed his eyes. “That’s not what I mean, Peter.” The man says, his tone borderline accusatory. “Do you love her, love her?”

Silence. Peter didn’t know what to say, so he opted for nothing at all.

“I already know the answer, Peter, so you might as well just come out and say it.”

Peter pondered his next move. If he played his cards wrong, this conversation could end in him losing his life. Tony Stark was not one to be messed with, especially when it comes to Y/N.

On the other hand, Tony Stark was not one to be lied to, either.

Peter sighed, accepting his fate. “How did you know?”

Much to Peter’s surprise, Tony gave a small smile. “I see the way you look at her, kid. I’ve looked at many girls like that in my day. That enamoured look. You're in love with my daughter, and I have some questions.”

“Questions?”

“Yes, questions, kid. Keep up.”

Peter nodded. “Alright.”

“How long?” Tony asked.

“How long…?” Peter didn’t understand what Tony was aking.

“How long have you been in love with Y/N! How long have you known?”

Peter looked away, breaking eye contact momentarily out of nerves.

When did he begin loving you? Now that he’s truly thinking about it, he can’t really remember.

Maybe it was the first mission that the two of you did together, back when you still known as irongirl. It was a bank robbery, an easy task that Tony had given for your very first mission.

Maybe it was that one time when you dragged him out of bed at 6 AM so that you could show him your favorite coffee shop.

Perhaps it was when you took that faithful mission to Asgard, when you gained your powers accidentally, earning your new title as Nova.

Or, it could be the time that you and him stayed up late binge watching a show he couldn’t remember. He couldn’t take his eyes off of you that night. You looked so beautiful that night, getting excited as something cool happened in the show. Your hair was tied back, wearing an oversized shirt, your face makeup free. He couldn’t help but smile as you laughed, and didn’t think he’d ever heard a more beautiful sound in the world.

Yeah, he thinks it was that night.

“Um… about ten months ago, I think? That’s when I realized, but I think I’ve loved her for longer. I just forced myself not to acknowledge it, I guess.”

Tony nodded in understanding. “I get that. What is it about her?”

Another question the boy had to think about.

“There’s a lot of things, I think. Like how excited she gets when she talks about things she’s passionate about. Oh, and the way she laughs when something’s funny in a movie or a show or something. And the way she sends me memes or videos that she thinks are funny. They’re usually not very funny, but of course I think it’s hilarious just because she sent it to me. And she always listens to me when I talk, even if I’m talking about something stupid and boring like science stuff I think is interesting. She talks back to me like she cares what I’m saying, and I know she probably doesn’t, but she acts like she does, and that’s enough. She always drags me out to go on adventures, or, at least, that’s what she calls them. Usually it’s just going to get coffee or try out some new restaurant she heard about but it’s still fun. She’s just so amazing, and I think she makes me the best version of myself.”

The rant ended, and for a moment, Peter forgot that Tony was even in the room.

“Damn. I wasn’t expecting that. I’m impressed, kid. To be honest, I expected some shallow answer like ‘she looks hot in her suit’ or something like that.”

“No, sir. Of course, she’s beautiful, but Y/N is just so much more than that.”

Tony gave another sweet smile to the boy in front of him.

“She likes you, too, you know.”

Peter’s head snapped toward Tony again.

What the hell did he just say?

“What?”

“Y/N. She likes you.”

“No way. She just sees me as her best friend. I’m probably like a brother to her. She doesn’t like me like that.”

“But she does, kid. I know my daughter better than I know myself. She is head over heels for you, spidey. Which is why you should tell her how you feel.”

“Tell her how I feel? Why would I do that?”

“Because she likes you, too, and then you two will be stupid kids in love.”

“Are you serious?”

“Aren’t I always?”

Peter paused for a moment. “I thought you’d kill me when you found out I liked your daughter, not convince me to go talk to her about it.”

“I’m gonna be honest with you, kid. I brought you in here with the intention of killing you, or just telling you to stay away from my daughter. But after you went on that little rant about why you loved her, I just couldn’t tell you to keep away from her. You really love her, kid, I can tell. So go talk to her.”

“You’re sure you won’t be mad if I ask her out?”

Tony shook his head and smiled.

“Go get her, kid.”

-------

Freshly clean and feeling a significant amount better, you sat on your bed scrolling on your phone. Thoughts of Peter had begun to fade (mainly because you forced them out of your mind) and that helped to keep you from stressing about what’s to come.

You had decided to confess how you feel to Peter.

True, this plan could ruin everything. Today could be the day you lost your best friend, and that thought made you want to cry.

But today could also be the day you finally get to kiss the boy you’ve loved forever, and that thought also made you want to cry.

You didn't have much time to think about it further, however, because Peter was knocking on your bedroom door.

“Y/N? It’s me. Can I come in?”

You paused immediately, your heart rating speeding up.

Oh, shit. This is it. This could be the beginning or the end of you and Peter Parker.

You took a deep breath, steadying yourself. It was now or never.

“Yeah, Petey, come on in.”

The door opened, and the boy you loved so much walked in. His cheeks were pink, you noticed. His cheeks only went pink when he’s nervous. Why was he nervous?

You could tell by his damp hair that he had also showered before coming to your room.

“I need to talk to you about something.” He rushes out.

Oh.

“Same.” is your reply. What else are you meant to say?

“Oh, really? Well, uh, you can go first. I’ll wait.”

You shook your head frantically. “No, you first. You said it first, so it’s only right that you go.”

Peter’s hand went to the back of his neck, rubbing it. Another nervous habit of his.

“Can I sit down?”

You nodded. Why was he even asking? Usually he’d just plop down whenever he pleased, no questions asked. This behavior was very out of character for the boy you knew so well.

The boy sat down on the edge of your bed, and then took a deep breath. “Okay. I don’t know how to tell you this, but I just have to. I don’t want you to hate me, and I really hope this doesn’t affect our friendship, but…”

Peter paused for a moment, and looked into your eyes. They were brimming with concern, and he just couldn’t hold it back anymore. He broke the eye contact you’d been maintaining, mustered up all the courage he could, and then blurted it out.

“I’m in love with you. I have been for I don’t know how long. I wasn’t planning on telling you, because I didn’t want to ruin our friendship, but it was starting to get physically painful and I just- I can’t hide it anymore. I love you and I’m sorry.”

Peter clenched his eyes shut, unable to look at your face. He waited (very anxiously) for a reaction, but it never came. Eventually, he opened his eyes, gaining the burst of bravery it took to look at you.

Your jaw was dropped, the expression on your face unreadable.

Oh, no. No no no no no. He’d fucked up. He fucked everything up and now you were never going to speak to him again. He’d lost you. Damn you, Tony Stark.

“Y/N…” He began his apology solemnly. “I’m-”

But he never got to finish his sentence.

Because you were pouncing on him before he had the chance to.

You were on him within seconds, kissing him with so much intensity that he fell back on the bed. He was taken aback for a moment, but quickly kissed you back.

For a moment, the two of you just lay there, wrapped in one another, kissing like there was no tomorrow.

A kiss that made up for all the ones both of you had longed to have in the months before.

You pulled away gently, looking into Peter’s eyes.

“I have loved you for so fucking long, Peter. I was going to tell you that I loved you today.”

“Are you serious?”

You laughed lightly. “Of course I’m serious, you dumbass.”

“Hey!” Peter feigned offense.

You pecked his lips. “You’re a cute dumbass, though.” And then you were kissing him again, and it’s all you could’ve asked for.

----

After a while, the two of you had finally tired each other out, and now you sat cuddled against each other on your bed. No movie or show was playing; it was just you and Peter, listening to each other’s breathing and the sound of your heartbeats.

You looked up at the beautiful boy you were cuddling with, only to find he was already looking down at you.

“Aren’t you going to ask me out, Parker?”

Peter’s eyes widened, and his cheeks went red (for the millionth time that day.)

“Oh, yeah, I- I just thought- nevermind, uh- Y/N, will-”

“Yes, of course I’ll be your girlfriend, Petey.” You cut him off, saving him a few extra minutes of nervous stammering.

He smiled sheepishly at you, then leaned down to bring you into a kiss.

You cuddled back down into his chest, smiling warmly.

You can confidently say that right now, in this moment, you are the happiest you’ve ever been.

[biochemsitry]

So I was wondering if anyone can explain this to me. I doubt anyone can but it's at least an interesting story I think. (Disclaimer: if you aren't a math person, this might be pretty confusing, but I will try to explain stuff.)

I'm sitting in my 300 level calc 1 class. We're learning about instantaneous velocity and limits and the like, not super hard stuff. This is the fourth class period we've had so it hasn't gotten to the hard stuff yet.

By the way, I go to a tiny private university. I'm one of 5 students in this class. My uni is, um, known for not being great with math-- we literally have two math profs in total. Two. I think we have 3 math majors in total, and all three are in this class. The fourth is math ed. I'm biochem.

Back to what happened today. Our prof, let's call her Dr. H, is explaining limits (for non-math or science ppl, it involved lots of graphs and functions and letters). The freshman math ed major, let's call him J, is very confused and raises his hand. "What does f(x) mean?" he asks.

Dr. H pauses, unsure of how to answer. The other 4 students, including me, try to explain f(x) to J. Dr. H ends up drawing a graph on the whiteboard to explain that f(x) often, at least at the level we're at and with the stuff we're talking about, is the same as y. f(x)=x is the same as y=x. f(x)=3x-1 is the same as y=3x-1.

J seems to be satisfied with this explanation, so Dr. H continues the lecture. A few minutes later, she gives an example problem with both f(x) and g(x). J is now more confused than ever.

"Wait, what's g(x)?" he asks.

"g(x) is the same as y in this situation," Dr. H answers.

"But I thought f(x) was y."

At this point, we're all looking at J in disbelief. For people who don't know, g(x), f(x), h(x), etc. in graphing are all representative of y on a graph, at least typically, and at least in contexts like this.

Dr. H pauses, then says, "I think we need to have a conversation about functions after class."

Now, don't get me wrong. Functions can be hard. If you're not a math person, it's easy to go without knowing what they are. I'm not trying to put anyone down for not knowing what they are. My mom never got past algebra 1 and either never learned them or has completely forgotten about them. But then again, my 16yo brother with severe discalcula (math dyslexia, basically) knows at least about functions and he's barely even done pre-algebra...

But this kid made it into calculus apparently without any knowledge of functions, which (I think???) are usually taught at the algebra 1 level (so about 8th-9th grade, or 13-15yo, at least in the US. It's usually younger in other countries though, at least from what I gather?). It's not something you'd learn at age 14 and never use again until college-- most maths from algebra 1 and up use functions pretty much all the time. But this freshie is, like, 17-18, and a math ed major, who must have either klepped out of lower math courses, or had gotten a high enough score on the ACT/SAT to be able to go directly into calc 1. This guy's smart-- he seems to be really good at math other than functions. I just have absolutely no idea how he made it into calc without knowing about functions. Just... how?????

(In case anyone's wondering, we absolutely did NOT try to make J feel bad. None of us students even said anything about it afterwards at all. We just don't do that. Dr. H was very kind in how she handled the situation, too. Never make a person feel bad for not knowing something. I'm not making fun of him by posting this, either; I'm just very confused lol. I doubt he'll see this, and if he does, I doubt he'll know it's me talking about him. He's a smart guy, and I'm not blaming him for his lack of knowledge on functions. I'm mostly just wondering how his HS teachers neglected to teach him about such a basic and important part of math.)