#wish i knew what this actually is but the book didn't explain and the teacher didn't either 🙃

[naomiknight-17]

Highlight of tonight's class

WHAT kind of cola?

That's pussy, babe!

[bloompawz]

I don't understand the whole, "You can't explain gender stuff to kids; they're too young to understand" argument. Refusing to explain anything just results in more confusion.

As a kid, I thought that trans people were a really cool hypothetical, but didn't realize that could actually be a real thing until years later. I used to try to find portals where I could step in and swap my gender in elementary school, because I thought that would be the only way.

In third grade, we had a project where we were given the letters of our names and pictures of our faces, and we were supposed to draw the rest for a sort of classroom student book thing. I dropped some of the letters in my name to make it masculine, cut off the hair, and drew stuff that I thought was cool.

The teacher saw this and said, "Is that really how you want people to remember you?" clearly expecting me to say "no."

But I said "Yes," and the teacher argued against this for a bit, before giving in and allowing me to use the art that I made. They still made me create a version that aligned with my AGAB, though. The masculine version was only kept in black and white.

(Fun fact: My chosen name is actually almost identical to the name I chose in third grade. I had a pretty good idea of what I wanted, even with my limited knowledge on what I could do.)

I fantasized about being able to change my gender a lot as a kid, whether that meant being a boy, or being neither a girl nor a boy, or being between/some sort of boygirl. I wished that I could "genderbend," because that was the terminology I knew.

I learned that trans people actually exist in like... Middle school? And people were super transphobic at the time, so I internalized that for a few years before accepting that I'm trans. That pain could've been avoided if I had been taught from a young age that trans people exist, and that it's okay to be trans.

I was a trans kid, and I didn't know that was what I was until I was a teen, because I wasn't given the opportunity to know. Trans kids exist, regardless of whether you give them language to express their experiences or not.

And I've met trans kids who knew that terminology, and knew that they were trans because of it. I've also met kids who weren't trans, but still experimented with pronouns and gender expression for a short while to see how they felt, because they were given the freedom to do so. It's good to let kids explore who they are.

I'm also openly trans, and I don't hide this from anyone. Kids understand, even if I'm the first to explain it to them. It's not a hard concept to grasp. My little brother was introducing me to his friends as his big brother even when I was expressing myself very femininely, and hardly any kids batted an eye. Some of them were curious why I looked so feminine for a guy, and it was easy to explain. It has also been easy to explain what being nonbinary means.

Kids latch onto concepts like gender more easily than you think. Out of everyone in my family, my little brother (who still isn't even a teen yet) has been one of the most supportive people when it comes to my transition. I can't think of a time when he has misgendered me- not in years, at least. He caught on fast, and he never gets it wrong. He even corrects people who misgender me. I get misgendered by the adults in my family much more than the children.

Kids get it. All you gotta do is explain.

[webslingingslasher]

TLDR; too long, didn't read

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

Genre: Fluffy, minor angst

Word Count: 10K

Summary: you're dyslexic and it runs your entire life. peter's just trying to help, but sometimes it's a bit too much.

this was requested, thank you, thank you.

“Here, read this and tell me what you think.” 

You let out a breathy sigh, like you’ve been here, done that, and heard that a million times before. Actually, it's because you have. And not just by Peter, everyone in your life. Teachers, parents, even friends that just tried their best to help. It just never worked. 

It never, ever clicked in your brain. 

“Peter, we’ve been over this. I can’t read.” 

Peter rolls his eyes, “Chill with the dramatics, you can read. I know you can read, did it last night for me.” 

He’s right. The last few weeks since you’ve been extra struggling in English Lit he’s asked you to read to him every night, over the phone or in person. 

You hate it. 

Not reading to Peter, it’s just embarrassing for you. The pauses in sentences you have to take to clearly read the line, or the stuttering, or worse when Peter can guess what word you’re trying to say so he says the word slowly and calmly almost as if he’s sounding it out for you. 

You know he does it with nothing but love, but sometimes you just feel dumb and ashamed, and it’s nothing you can solve. 

“No, like, I really can’t read at all.” 

Peter pokes at your arm with a pencil, “You just need a little extra time, it’s no big deal. You even crushed our short story last week, you only slipped up on three words!” 

Your brain is fighting against you because you have visual dyslexia. Meaning that letters jumbled around in your brain and on the page. You’ve struggled since you were a kid, it’s gotten easier through the years. Lots of intervention, reading and writing has helped you slow down and sound out the words softly and slowly until you know it’s right. 

“If I ask you something will you be totally honest?”

Peter is a fucking genius, it makes you distressed when he helps you with this. He is solving grad school equations and helping you sound out kindergarten words for fun, it doesn’t make sense. 

“I don’t like the way that sounds so I’m withholding until I hear it.” He taps his chin with his pencil eraser. 

You don’t know why you haven’t asked yet. 

“Why are you dating me?” 

Record scratch, Peter looks offended. 

“Huh?” The pencil is slack in his grasp. 

You backtrack a little, you know why he’s dating you but you don’t understand it. You can’t help but feel inferior to him booksmart wise. 

“Well, I mean, you know.” You wince and shug with one arm, you divert your eyes to the page and start to slowly read out to him. 

“Jill went over to George’s for tea and cakes, when the doorbell-” 

Peter cut you off with his hand on your shoulder, you peered at him from the side. 

“No, I don’t know. I’d like you to explain that question to me, please.” Where the hell was this coming from? 

You huff and push the book away, “You’re smart and I’m not. Do you ever think to yourself, ‘God, I wish I had known she was an idiot before I tapped that’? It’s not your fault but I feel so below you and I can’t ever be you so like, what’s the fucking point.” 

Peter doesn’t know where to begin. 

You’re not an idiot, you’re not below him and he’s so glad you’re not him. He also doesn’t like that ‘tapped it’ comment.

“Is that how you always feel?” Has he done a bad job of lifting you up? 

You shrug, then nod. 

“Jesus, Y/N.” 

“I’m dating you because you’re lovely, you’re funny and despite what you believe, smart. You crush vocab like no other cause even if you get tripped up by the words you always know what they mean. You’re a knowledge god in history and the best chemistry lab partner, I have never thought you were dumb, ever.” 

You roll your eyes, it’s his job to tell you that you’re smart, it’s in the boyfriend duties journal. 

“I’m sure if you knew I was dyslexic before we started to date you wouldn't have.” 

Pause, Peter did know. You didn’t know he knew, he’s kept that from you. He didn’t want it to seem like he dated you out of pity or because he knew you needed extra help. He dated you because he was absolutely in love with you and needing a little extra reading comprehension skills wouldn’t ruin that. 

“I did know.” 

You raise your hand as he’s proven your point, “Exactly! I always knew-” 

You furrow your eyebrows at him, “Did you just say you knew?” 

Peter nods with his bottom lip tucked between his teeth. 

“Wait, I’m being serious right now, Peter. You knew I was dyslexic?” 

He breathes in deeply, “Well, I mean, I had an idea. I knew you had trouble reading sometimes and when you started leaving class during tests I knew.” 

You poke your cheek with your tongue, “Interesting.” 

“I only knew because I knew a kid named Ben in elementary who was dyslexic, and he would go to a different room during tests and they would ask him the questions out loud so he could understand it a bit better.” 

“And you never said anything?” 

“Because it didn’t matter to me, baby. I love you no matter what, this isn’t a big deal at all, really.” 

And there it is, that’s the fallback line for him. 

‘It doesn't matter, it isn’t a big deal.’ 

Except it was, and it really did fucking matter to you. Peter would never understand it unless he dealt with it, and he didn’t. And it’s not his fault at all, cause you know if the situation was flipped you would most likely say the same things. But this is a real disability you struggle with everyday all the time, it’s not like you had a problem with math that could be avoided until you had to do it again. 

This was every text, every written page, every passage you read. Every street sign, absolutely everywhere you looked, it followed. 

It controlled your life, and he would never understand that. 

“It doesn’t matter to you, you mean.” You correct his wording, he doesn’t get it. 

“Of course it doesn’t matter to me, you’re my genius girl, no matter what.” He winks then points at the page again, “Okay, so Jill and George?” 

You felt defeated inside, what was the point of trying anymore? It would stick and stay no matter what and no matter how hard you tried to keep it under wraps, everyone would know. 

—------------

“Alright, hot stuff. I got this book at the library and I think we should read it together. I heard it was good from Tiktok.” 

You took the book from Peter’s hand and turned it over, the words jumbled immediately and you recoiled inside from the size of the book alone. It was massive, it would take you weeks if not months to read it through. 

“Yeah, about that,” You trail, Peter sets his bag down and sits on your bed with a pillow in his lap. 

“About what?” He pats the pillow, he’s calling for your head to rest there. 

“The reading thing, I was thinking, do you think we could take turns?” You bit your lip and leaned back, his fingers tracing in your hair. 

“Take turns what, reading?” 

You nod, you also feel where you made a knot in the back of your hair from rubbing the fabric. 

“Yeah, it would be like the sisterhood of the traveling book. I would read and then you would, it doesn’t have to be chapter by chapter but then it’s even.” 

Peter untangles some knots gently, “We could, but I really love hearing you read to me.” 

“Yeah, but you never read to me, and I love your voice.” 

Peter laughs airily, “Yeah, but I don’t-” 

He stopped, he caught himself. 

Not good enough, you know what he meant. 

You tilt your chin up to look at his face upside down, you narrow your eyes.

“Go on, say it.” 

He shakes his head. 

“No, really, Peter. I want you to say it.” 

“It’s nothing, baby.” 

You push yourself up and face him, you huff. 

“I’m serious, I want you to say it to my face, right now.” You feel your face get warm, you were right when you brought this up last week, he does think you’re stupid. 

Peter breathes out hard through his mouth, he knows he’s fucked up, and this was going to brew into a fight no matter how hard he tried to settle it right now. If he ignored you he would make it worse. 

“Yeah, but I don’t need help like you do.” 

You wince and hiss in through your teeth. 

“Ouch. That hurt.” 

You sit back in silence and pick up the book he brought over, you look it over once more. Even reading slowly things still got a little jumbled, you felt like you were out of place. 

“Baby, look at me.” 

You shake your head, “It’s okay, Peter.” 

He grabs your arm, “No it’s not.” 

You shake him off, “No, really. It’s okay.” 

He sighs, “I didn’t-” 

You cut him off, “You didn’t mean it like that, and you don’t think I’m dumb and I’m amazing and talented elsewhere, and needing extra reading time is fine and normal and you were just talking without thinking and you didn’t mean it.” 

Peter gave you a small smile, “I feel like it would be better coming from my mouth, since I’m the one that said it, but yeah, you hit the nail on the head.” 

You give the same smile back and pretend it’s fine. 

But it’s not fine, it’s actually so far from fine you cried yourself to sleep. You cried all night looking at the numbered book spine from the library copy your boyfriend brought to you, the same book spine that let you know Peter did notice how slow and difficult things were. You started at the title until it was burned into your mind, everytime you blinked it was etched into the backs of your eyelids. 

You stared at the book and cried and cried and cried until you decided you hated the book. You hated it so much you wanted to rip out its pages one by one until it ceased to exist. You wanted to flush it down the toilet and you wanted to drop it in a bucket of wet paint, you wanted it to be used as first pitch at the start of the baseball season, you wanted it to be banned from every corner of the world, you wanted Peter to take it back. 

Peter said the worst thing he could’ve said, and it came with no effort. Like he thinks it all the time, you made up your mind right then you wouldn’t ever read to or with him again. 

—----------------

You were getting more and more frustrated with Peter by the second, he wouldn’t shut the fuck up for twelve seconds. He just keeps going on, and on, and on about reading this and how “he’s thinking about how we could split up the pages and make it more fair, cause he does understand how it can seem unfair reading all alone to someone else, not to mention-” 

You rub at your temples, “Are you my boyfriend or my tutor?” 

Peter stops, “What?” 

You keep rubbing to stop the oncoming headache, “Are you my boyfriend or my tutor?” 

He looks confused, “Boyfriend, right?” 

You laugh dryly, “Could have fooled me, professor.” 

Peter doesn’t know what to say, he’s just trying to help, is he coming on too strong? 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to throw this all on you. How do you feel about this, you read the first thirty pages and I’ll read the next fifty?” 

You shove the book Peter placed in your hand into his chest, “I’m not reading the fucking book, Peter. If you want to read it so badly, do it yourself.” 

Peter is genuinely speechless, he doesn’t think you’ve ever snapped at him like this. 

All he can come up with is, “Huh?” 

“You heard me,” You double down, “I’m not reading the damn thing, it’s your book, you read it.” 

He shakes his head one more time, he’s thinking he’s got a concussion. 

“What? Why?” 

Because you vowed to never read to him again.  

“Because I don’t want to.” 

“Okay, that’s fair. I should’ve asked you, we can go to the library and you can pick out anything you want. Daddy will put it on his card.” He winks. 

“Thanks, but I’m good.” 

He pulls his head back and sets the book down, “If you don’t want to read today it’s fine, we can go get lunch, I know you’ve been begging me to take you to the new diner on 54th.” 

You narrow your eyes and look him up and down, “Just lunch?” 

He nods, “Unless you want to do something else, didn’t you say you wanted to see a movie?” 

You grimace, “Next month.” 

He grins, “Perfect, I’ll mark it on the calendar.” 

—---------------

You frown looking at the menu, usually it was pretty easy guessing what things were off a quick glance from the pictures but this menu had no images. 

It’s small accessibility things like that, that most people don’t think of, that make a world of a difference for someone that needs it. 

You peer up at Peter across from you, his forehead and right eye are lit up from the sun peering in from the window, he’s sitting facing the door, like always. You asked him one time after he physically moved you when you tried to sit towards it, “I always want to see who’s coming in.” He claimed it was a safety thing, you didn’t mind. As long as you didn’t sit on the same side and you always got the booth side at a booth table combo table, you couldn’t care who sat where. 

He has his lip pulled into his mouth, softly nibbling at the area. You wanted to pull it out because it always left an odd texture when you make out, you wanna ask him about the menu, to be sure. You also don’t want him to dote on you, make him read out the entire menu, just help fill in some words. 

“Petey?” Start soft, he loves that name. 

He flicks his eyes up and drops his lip from his teeth, “Yes, baby?” 

You point to where you’re looking, he leans over the table to get a better look. 

“Is that third word lettuce?” 

Peter hums, “Correct.” 

You grin, “Okay, thanks.” 

Peter nods and goes back to looking, he’s already figured out what he wants but he knows it makes you flustered when he sits there while you're still trying to figure out what the first page says, so instead when you ask, “What are you getting?” He can say, “Hmm, I don’t know yet, I’m still looking,” You can let out a breath of release and not feel rushed to make a choice. 

You make your way down the list, getting caught at one word. You read it slowly, even mouthing the word, you don’t think you’ve ever heard it before. 

“Peter, under sandwiches, number 3, what the fuck is that last word? I don’t think I’ve ever seen it before.” 

He lets out a soft laugh, “It says arugula, baby.” 

You squint and hold the plastic closer, “That’s how you spell it?” 

“How did you think it was spelled?” 

“Not like that.” You pull the menu away and continue the search. 

“It’s a tricky one, you’re not wrong.” Peter looks over his choice a few more times, he feels like his mouth is watering. 

“It’s a hate crime, actually.” 

He chuckles and sets his menu down, “I chose, got any ideas?” 

You scan over the menu quickly, if all else fails you trust Peter, you’ll have what he’s having. 

“What are you getting?” 

He raises his hands above his head and stretches, “Classic number seven.” 

You waver the option in your head, “That does sound pretty good, actually.” 

“Damn, I was betting on you getting seventeen.” 

“I was thinking about that one, swear to god!” 

Peter leans in like he’s making a great deal, for no one else to hear. 

“Get it and we spit?” 

You think, “Okay, you get half mine and I get half your fries.” 

He holds out his hand to solidify the business deal. 

“And maybe a bite or three of your burger.” 

You stick your hand in his and shake it before he can process what you said and groans, not that he minds, you are giving him half your waffles. 

When the plates are brought out Peter immediately hands you his burger, he will always allow the lady the first bite. Also because he will eat the entire thing in two. You take a bite and set it down, you pass your plate to him and he starts the trade. 

He slides two waffles on his plate, and scoops more than half the fries on yours, then drizzles half the syrup but leaves all the butter for you, he also doesn’t touch the whipped cream even though you know he wants it more than you do, you reach over and take a strawberry off the side and dip it in the cream, you bite down and push it back. You’re telling him to take it, he grins with squinted eyes to show his appreciation. 

You pick his meal up and bite again, working on swallowing you pass it back. Peter eyes it as you work through chewing, “You sure?” You nod, just as he goes to take it you say, “Actually, sorry,” Then take one more, you almost regret not going with his. Until you take a bite of the waffles and you melt, they are the best damn things you’ve ever had. 

—-----------

“I swear you aren’t even trying anymore!” 

Peter was defeated, you didn’t care. He has tried everything to get you to work with him this past week, especially since you bombed an English quiz. You have done nothing, you absolutely refused to read to him, to do any practice work, to read to yourself, to study, nothing to do with reading in the slightest. 

You were caught, and maybe a tiny glad he noticed. It just felt pointless, you would always struggle and no matter what Peter told you, feel like a burden. Like everyone had to help you with everything, it wasn’t Peter’s job to make sure you were reading and passing vocab and working on letter recognition, it was your job and you just didn’t care for it anymore. 

You just shrug carelessly back, you have to look away. His stare of disappointment is making self guilt rise quickly. 

Peter pulls back a little, he sounds lost. His voice is calm, “Hey, you didn’t give up did you?” 

You shake your leg, why do you feel like crying right now? 

Peter squats to get eye level with you, he places his hand on your knee to steady it. 

He shakes his head like he can’t understand where you’re coming from at all. 

“Hey, c’mon. Don’t do this, don’t do this to yourself. You worked too hard to just give up, you’ve gotten yourself here, right?” 

You nod trying to keep from crying, it doesn’t work. Your lower lip trembles and Peter immediately scoops you into his chest and pats your hair as you sob into him. He’s right, you’re hurting no one but yourself but it’s impossible to feel like it’s a never ending process. It feels like you’re walking in quicksand, you’re pacing yourself but it feels like nothing is changing. 

“I’m sorry,” You repeat into his shirt over and over, he shushes you, “You have no reason to be sorry.” 

When you calm you pull away, he presses a kiss to your forehead and wipes away any stray tears. 

“Wanna tell me what’s up?” 

“I just, I’m done, Peter. I am so fucking done, this is so stupid and it makes me feel stupid. And I know it’s not my fault but it is because my brain fucked me over so hard. I am always playing catch-up and it never, ever ends. I am constantly working towards something that will never get fixed. I keep telling myself if I pass this test, or if I read half a chapter with no struggles it’s gone, but I know it's a lie. It’s such a lie because I’ll be like this forever.” 

You start to cry again but stop yourself with a few deep breaths, “It will never get better, so why am I trying?” 

Peter nods, he’s not agreeing, he’s listening. He understands what you mean, he understands the frustration. He wants to tell you it’s not dumb, and it’s not for nothing but he needs to focus on you being okay first. 

“Okay, okay.” He pulls you in tightly and rests his chin on your head. 

“It sounds like you need a break, baby. You’ve been working yourself too hard, and I probably haven’t been helping that. Let’s take a week off, huh? No reading, no questions, no studying, nothing. Just call it quits on words this week, that sound good to you?” 

You nod into his chest and rub your nose against his shirt, an entire week with nothing about dyslexia sounds like just the break you needed. 

“Good, now let me see your pretty face.” You pull from him and grin, he smiles brightly at you, “There’s my girl,” He cups your face and brings you in for a kiss, you lean into it and raise on your toes a little bit to get closer. 

When Peter breaks away he rubs his thumb on your cheek until your eyes flutter open. 

“I love you, you know that, right?” He whispers the words, delicate between you two. 

You nod and lean up for a peck, “I love you too, and I appreciate you a lot.” 

He winks, “As long as you acknowledge it.” 

You groan as he moves away, he smacks your butt and points to his bed. You bounce down and watch as he grabs the book he checked out from the library, it hasn’t even been opened yet. You wait until he sits next to you and gets comfortable, he pats his chest to let you know it’s ready for you to rest your head. 

“Petey, you just said no reading for a week.” 

He nods, “I did. I said you wouldn’t read. You also said I never read to you, so, I think we can swap roles, what do you say?” 

You grin and settle down next to him and rub your cheek into his chest, “Love it, genius idea from my genius boy!” 

Peter kisses the top of your head and cracks the book open to the first page. 

“Chapter one, Jenna is going to die. Well, actually, everyone dies, but Jenna is going to die first, then Sara, then Amberlynn, and finally Jesse. The boy Jesse, not the girl, she doesn’t die, not yet anyways.” 

—---------------

You squint one eye open and bring the pillow over your ears trying to drown out the noise from the kitchen. Your boyfriend is going absolutely ham, singing from his entire being he has drowned out all the noise from the apartment. 

You focus on the music and his wailing, you concentrate and the song clicks. You look around the room and mutter to yourself, “Is he singing fucking Cher?” 

It didn’t end there, the rest of the week he was constantly playing Cher. You didn’t even know he liked her like that, and he’s been acting odd all week. 

He asked you to watch almost every Robin Williams movie with him, and then begged you to watch The View with him, the entertainment news, because Whoopi Goldburg was awesome. You questioned him but gave in, it was odd sure but so was he, so you reckon nothing was terribly out of the ordinary. 

Last night he turned off a Cher cd to turn on the TV, he watched the screen like a hawk. You blinked and looked around, “Why are we watching Anderson Cooper in Al Qaeda?” Peter threw his head back at you, “Why aren’t we watching Anderson Cooper in Al- Qaeda?” 

You hummed in response, “Tushe.” 

It all made sense today, the weird antics he’s put you through the past week. 

“Babe, what do you think of Cher?” 

You furrow your eyebrows, “I mean, I’m not a huge fan but I like her stuff a whole lot more when you sing it.” 

“Aw, thanks. How do you feel about Robin Williams?” 

“Actor god, one of the best from our lifetime. Every line he has is delivered perfectly.” 

“Anderson Cooper?” 

“He looks weird, like he has the same energy as an albino elephant. But he’s a damn good journalist, so no complaints.” 

“Whoopi Goldberg?” 

“Comedic genius. What’s with the questions?” 

He ignores you, “Picasso?” 

“A great artist.” 

“Octavia Spencer?” 

You gasp, “I love her.” 

He tries for one more, “Albert Einstein?” 

“A genius. Smartest man in the world, smartest man to exist. With the exception of ancient Greece.” 

Peter hummed, content with all your answers. 

“You know what you have in common with all of those people?” 

You snort, “No, what?” 

He looks at you, “They’re all dyslexic.” 

You drop your jaw, “No?” 

He nods, “Cher struggled growing up, her’s were numbers. Robin Williams got words mixed up, he used to day “Trick or Trout” as a kid. Anderson Cooper struggled his entire life until he spoke up about it, with reading specialists and intervention he got through high school, then went to Yale. Whoopi Goldberg says her advantage is that she can see things differently, and it’s more interesting than how other people see it, and that she really hated growing up that no one saw her as smart, she was. She just saw everything differently.” 

You were speechless, you just looked at the ground and blinked, these great, amazing people all struggled with what you did. Celebrities, they're just like you! 

“I’m not done. Picasso would flip things around, make art of how his brain saw things. Octavia Spencer struggled with reading out loud, but she was smarter in other places. She would crush mazes and had incredible deductive reasoning. She even wrote two books all by herself, with dyslexia. And Einstein? They thought he was a dumb boy and nothing more because he was so bad with reading and writing, and claimed that words or language, as they are written or spoken don’t play a role in his mechanism of thought. He said that imagination means more than knowledge. Knowledge is limited, imagination encircles the world.”

 “It’s possible, Y/N. It’s okay to get frustrated, it’s okay to take a break but you also have to push through. And it’s not fair, and I don’t know what it’s like for you everyday. But, it’s possible to move on and get a good job, and go to a good college, and struggle less and less along the way. It’s always going to be there, and if I could take that from you sweetheart, I would. But it’s a part of you, and I love that part of you.” 

“You do?” You whisper.

“Of course I do! You’re my girl, and if we have kids and you pass it along then it’s no biggie. Cause they’ll look at their mom and see her living a kick ass life with a disability. It’s all about how you let it define you, I know you see this as never ending but it gets better and easier, it just takes time. I know you hated it, but when you read to me every night I could see you change, you got more confident the more you did it, because you were recognizing words and didn’t freeze over them.” 

“I did?” 

“Yes! Remember how excited you were when I told you that you went three pages without questioning a word? We set that as a new record, when we first started you would barely make it through a paragraph.” 

“Will you do it with me?” 

If you needed to believe in yourself then you needed Peter, because he always believed in you even when you couldn’t understand why. 

“Do what?” 

“Be there for me, let me read to you and help me with word recognition and help me figure out where I’m smart for a boost of confidence.” 

“I’m here for you, baby. No matter what, alright? I would love to help you figure this out, we’re life partners, right?” 

“Right.” You grin at him and he exclaims, “Oh, I got one! Puzzles!” He crouches to pull a box from under the coffee table, “You’re great at puzzles, we can do one together and I’ll cry when you piece it together in an hour.” 

You take the box and hold it against your chest, “Actually, can I read you a chapter of that book? I kinda want to see how Amberlynn dies.” 

“At the rate you read it’ll really build the suspense.” 

You narrow your eyes, “Thin ice, Parker. Thin ice.” 

He raises his hands up in surrender and you grab the book and point for him to sit down, you sit next to him and clear your throat. You take a deep breath and open to the page with a bookmark poking out, you hesitate but ignore your thoughts and start reading, and you go until you can’t stand it anymore. 

You turn to see Peter looking at you with the biggest smile you’ve seen from him. 

“What?” 

He shakes his head, “Not one, Y/N. Not one slip up.” 

[doctor-dusk]

𝐦𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐨𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐞𝐞𝐤 | 𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐱 𝐭.

mr. turner (the car!alex) offers you a ride home on a rainy day. could you turn down an offer from your favorite teacher? 

warnings: almost none, age gap, just a bit of angst, most fluff actually.

word count: 3.9k

kinda into prof!al for so long but i only managed to write something now. maybe there's a part 2 (with smut included), idk.

this was wrong. he knew that.

but was it so wrong?

he asked himself that every time he looked at you, sitting in your usual spot in the classroom, second chair in the second row, from left to right.

quiet girl, shy, intelligent, deer eyes that discreetly followed him when he explained the content as he walked around the room, always making a point of passing close to your row, just to be able to delude himself with the sensation of feeling your body close to his. 

if he was lucky, he could also smell the faint perfume you exhale dissipating due to the air conditioning. vanilla scent, to be more specific.

you were his favourite girl. secretly, of course. so secretly that you didn't even know that.

little did he know that he’s your favourite teacher. but just like him, you were also discreet. 

you avoid looking at him for too long, afraid of looking like a psychopath, or worse, that he would look back at you, something that happened sometimes.

but, oh, when he looks back at you... simply the best three seconds of your life.

you made him feel strangely uncomfortable. not that it's in a bad way. it was a ‘’good uncomfortable’’, if he can put it that way. 

he liked the way your voice sounded, feeling like a warm breeze in a cold day. he wanted to be able to talk to you more, answer something other than a simple question that you occasionally asked him during class. the most you say outside the classroom is ''see you next class'' along with a polite smile.

but again, reality comes weighing like a ton. you were his student. his sweet little student.

this was so wrong. but he couldn’t help it. his eyes fell on you more than he would have liked, as if you were a magnet. to your face, your neck, your chest, always with a minimum of cleavage that was almost always covered with your coat. to your hands, always busy holding a pen, writing tireless and useless notes in your notebook.

he wondered what your delicate hands could do besides write so much. 

on this particular morning, it was raining. like, a lot. you specifically loved rainy mornings when you didn’t have to go to campus, which unfortunately was not the case.

and now, you were stuck in there at one of the exits, watching the rain fall like a deluge, hoping that it would give you a minimal break so that you could at least get to the bus stop without getting all wet.

you looked at the time on your phone. it wasn't that you were in a hurry to get to your apartment, just the idea of staying there on campus didn't please you as you wish.

if only you were taking a class with mr. turner right now… yeah, the whole world could fall apart out there as long as you could be near him. his voice sounding like a shooting balm, his firm hand holding the book while the other hand was hidden inside the front pocket of his pants. you paid attention to all these details just so you could replay it like a movie in your head.

especially before bed.

oh, if mr. turner only knew what you thought about him in the dead of night…

‘’y/n?’’ you were startled by the sound of that familiar voice urging you from behind, and you hoped you weren't too pale when you turned to look at him. were your thoughts too loud?

‘’h-hi, mr. turner.’’ you forced an embarrassed smile, rubbing your arms awkwardly. ‘’what are you doing here?’’

‘’well, i… work here.’’ he chuckled weakly, hoping he didn't sound too rude, and you felt dumb for asking such a stupid question. ''waiting for the rain to stop?'' he asked, looking away from you and looking at the surroundings.

‘’yea, stupid rain.’’ you grumbled, looking around too, giving him the opportunity to look at you. as always, you were breathtaking. 

he thought for a moment before opening his mouth again. should he risk it? well, he could, but he was afraid you would refuse, and worse, end up moving away.

but he had a good excuse. it was raining a lot. it wasn't an stupid rain after all.

''can i... i mean, would you like a ride home?'' he asked after clearing his throat. he had smoked a few minutes ago, so his throat was warm and his voice was a little hoarse.

‘’oh, it's very kind, but there's no need to bother.’’ you said politely, your heart beating like a drum, your palms sweating a lot as you clasped your hands in your arms discreetly. 

‘’not a bother, miss. they said on the news that the rain is not expected to stop, you can stay ‘ere all day.’’ he responded, his mind worked quickly to come up with a convincing lie for you to accept. he didn't even watch the news today. 

you squeezed your arms tighter. you really want to accept it, but what if someone sees you getting into his car? god, you didn't even want to imagine.

‘’listen, 's okay if you don't want to, i just…’’ he said when he noticed your hesitation, looking away for a brief second. did he fuck up? ‘’just tried to help, i know what it's like to have to go home while it's raining a lot like it is now. besides, no one's gonna see us.’’

the last last sentence caught your attention, and ironically, it was what made you calm down. it was raining, what harm would it do if you accepted a ride from your teacher?

you nodded, accepting his offer. he gave a small smile, his fist clenched around the handle of his briefcase, trying to dissipate his excitement. 

you let him lead the way. luckily, he had an umbrella. a small one, not that you’re complaining. this gave you legitimacy to stand closer to him so that the umbrella could protect you both. 

‘’ready?’’ he asked you, opening the umbrella, holding it by the cold metal handle while the other hand held the briefcase. you nodded, getting closer to him so you could follow his lead when you two finally stepped out. 

the cold splashes of water hit your bare legs as you took a short run to the parking lot, dodging the puddles of water along the way and the wind ruffled your hair almost violently.

but nothing gave you goosebumps more than feeling his arm go over your shoulders to bring you closer, careful not to hit you with the briefcase he was holding. he didn't give a fuck if the briefcase was left unprotected and with rain falling down on it, as long as you were protected under his wing, everything was fine.

you stopped next to his car, he was cursing under his breath for forgetting to take the car keys out of his pocket before leaving with you. you held the handle of the umbrella so he could have his hand free to reach inside his pocket and pull out his car keys.

‘’thanks.’’ he muttered, disabling the car alarm. he smelled so good. a good smell of sandalwood, cedar, coffee and cigarettes. better than you have imagined. ‘’get in, ‘s fucking freezing here.’’ he said after opening the passenger door for you to get in, holding the umbrella again so you could get in.

he closed the door before you get in, running around the car to get to the driver's door, opening it quickly, closing the umbrella and throwing it on the backseat along with his briefcase. he didn't care if it was going to get the whole bench wet, he could deal with that later.

‘’oh, god, it feels like a flood, huh?’’ he chuckled, looking at you for a moment, noticing that you’re shaking. like he said, it was fucking freezing. ‘’oh, sorry, let me just…’’ he said, quickly starting the car so he could turn on the heater. ‘’there, better?’’ 

‘’yes, thank you, mr. turner.’’ you smiled at him, feeling your body getting warmer as the heater was doing its work. he smiled back, running his hand through his damp hair, putting on his seat belt and you repeated the act so that you could get out of there.

the heater managed to keep you warm, which was great. you could say that the car seat is more comfortable than your bed, you could easily sleep here, and the smell of his perfume permeating the car made you take a few deep breaths, your lungs almost exploded with ecstasy. 

you could spend hours describing how you’re looking at the car the whole time, but you would be lying, because you were definitely looking at your teacher next to you, driving attentively, with his hard expression intact, changing only when he pressed his lips together, forming a thin line. his damp hair gave him a sexier touch than usual, his wide-open brown eyes, even though they weren't looking at you, remained enigmatic.

everything he did seemed mesmerizing. the way he operated the car with one hand, looking at the mirrors, or when he changed gears, or when he simply turned on the windshield wipers.

what a handsome man. 

‘’i forgot to ask you where your house is.’’ he said, taking you out of your daydreams and you widened your eyes slightly, soon laughing softly.

‘’yeah, i forgot to mention that too.’’ you said. ‘’do you know belvedere? the neighborhood, i say.’’

‘’oh yeah, i used to go to a pub nearby when i was younger, good days.’’ he nodded, knowing the way. 

you wondered if it would be polite to ask his age. he didn't look that old. he wasn't, actually. but for you, socially, he was old. not that you would care. 

‘’those days are over?’’ you asked, trying to continue the topic respectfully with him, not wanting to sound desperate to talk to him. but oh, you wanted so badly to keep talking to him.

‘’yeah, i think so. when you're a teacher you don't have a lot of time and energy for this kind of thing anymore.’’ he replied, scratching his chin a little, keeping his eyes on the road, eventually glancing at you. ‘’i can barely stay awake until 2am.’’

you laughed respectfully. but you could laugh without respect too, he didn't care as long as he could hear the sound of your laugh and see your cheeks blush.

‘’if it's any consolation, i also can't go past 2am without ending up asleep.’’ you said, being honest. despite being young, you had a tiring routine, you didn't have the time or inclination to go to parties and stay up until the sun came up. 

‘’two old souls, i suppose.’’ he chuckled and you followed suit. you felt good with him, he made you feel comfortable. and strangely needy.

no wonder he was your favourite teacher.

unfortunately, the ride lasted less than you wanted. you only had to indicate a few streets for him to stop in front of the building where you lived. a small building, which was certainly perfect for single people or couples.

''there you go.'' he said, forcing a smile. he wished to spend more time with you, how he wished…

‘’thank you, mr. turner.'' you said, taking off your seat belt, placing your hand on the door handle to open it, the rain was light now, just little sprinkles of water falling. 

well, you should be more grateful for the ride, shouldn't you? just a small act. 

‘’uhm… would you like a cup of tea?’’ you asked shyly.

he had never felt his heart beat as fast as it did now. so fucking fast that he took a while to respond. he doesn't even like tea, but he would never pass up the opportunity to spend more time with you.

‘’yeah, sounds great, if it's not a bother.’’ he answered shortly, paying attention to your face to see if you would change your mind. it was not politically correct in the eyes of society to invite a teacher to have tea in your apartment, both of you knew it.

and as always, you didn't give a fuck.

soon enough, you were unlocking the front door of your apartment, your teacher right behind you, at a considerable distance, even though all he wanted most was to hug you from behind, feel your curves under your dress to know if your body is as warm and soft as he imagines.

you led the way, turning on the lights wherever you passed, opening the door wider so he could enter. your apartment was small, as expected, but it was tidy and cozy. 

‘’just like you,’’ that's what he thought.

he made himself comfortable there while you were in the kitchen. he had no tea preference, he would take whatever you offered him. he looked around a little more, paying attention to every detail of the living room and hallway that led to the bedrooms and bathroom.

the dim lights made the space more cozy and warm, the small plants in the window brought a little more color to the living room, and of course, the books along with the picture frames on the small shelf near the tv were what caught his attention the most. small books of the most diverse genres, but of course literature was what most prevailed, including foreign literature.

he swept his eyes over the photos in the frames. always you, an older woman and a younger girl. he assumed it would be your mother and your younger sister. oh, there was a dog too. such a cute poodle.

it was just normal family photos. except for the absence of a man. not that he thought he should have, he didn't know anything about you at that point, but he couldn't help but think: did you have a father?

why wasn't he in the photos? is that all that you had? your mother, your sister and a dog? 

and then, suddenly, he started to wonder if it was possibly worth risking all of this.

‘’sugar?’’ your voice sounded behind him, making him blink his eyes and look away, his hands hidden in his pants pockets reaching out to grab the cup of warm tea.

‘’thanks.’’ he muttered. 

‘’no, i… asked if you like some sugar on yours.’’ you gestured and he shook his head, taking a sip. lemon balm flavored, a true natural calming agent. you noticed he seemed a little uneasy, but you didn't want to ask him. 

‘’it’s a… cute dog, actually.’’ he said, pointing to the picture with his thumb. you gave a warm smile.

‘’yeah, he was.’’ you agreed, siping your tea. was. so, the dog died. he felt sorry for you, but before he could say something, you pointed to the small couch. ‘’would you like to sit?’’

he sat on the couch after you. the sofa was a two-seater, so it was impossible not to end up leaning against each other, his shoulders pressing against yours gently.

you felt nervous, the silence wasn't embarrassing, but it wasn't very pleasant either. your legs were bent while your hands cupped the cup of tea perfectly. you looked at him in silence, seeing that he was already looking at you long before that, taking note of every single expression on your face.

‘’are you nervous? i can leave if you want.’’ he broke the silence, sounding genuinely concerned that you were feeling insecure or uncomfortable in his presence. that was the last thing he would want to make you feel.

‘’no, i'm just…’’ you said, shaking your head and watching him leave the cup of tea on the coffee table in front of you. but you couldn't lie. and even if you did, he wouldn't believe it. ‘’yeah, i'm nervous. i never... brought a professor here and... i don't know, i'm not used to it.’’

‘’it's ok, darling. i’ve also never been to a student's house before.’’ he sounded honest in his response, wanting you to feel comfortable but not wanting to force you into it. you took another sip of the tea, the hot liquid running smoothly down your throat before you set your cup down next to his. ‘’but i can still leave if you want.’’

‘’i wouldn't have invited you to come if i didn't want you to stay.’’ you replied, summoning all your courage to say it without stuttering, looking at him. a weak smile appeared on his lips, and he felt safe reaching for your left hand that was resting in your lap.

you didn't refuse his touch, your hand rested in his open palm, showing the difference in size between you. his thumb brushed over your skin, making you slightly open your hand, feeling more of the contact between his calloused fingers and yours. your hand was more delicate and soft, the way he always imagined. 

your head felt full and your heart beat faster, but you tried not to tremble, enjoying this touch and the way your palms rubbed gently. 

‘’do you play the guitar?’’ you asked, breaking the silence. he nodded, too distracted by the touch of your hand, but not so much that he doesn't hear you.

‘’i take a little risk. can't say that i'm a professional though.’’ he shrugged softly. you smiled, imagining what it would be like to see him play his guitar. does he play standing up? seated? lying in his bed? does he like to play more elaborate riffs? or something more peaceful and soothing? 

‘’it would be nice to hear you play one day.’’ you commented, and he smiled at the idea. oh, he would love to play for you.

‘’yeah, sounds great. we can go to my place any day, i can play you some tunes.’’ he said. so, was he considering taking you to his flat one day? he gave a crooked smile. ‘’if you like, of course.’’

‘’i would love to.’’ you spoke softly, feeling more comfortable around him, your hand still on top of his. ‘’but... wouldn't there be anyone at home waiting for you?’’

nice shot. it was a good move to ask that. at least you would know if he had someone in his life. you would feel like crap if the answer was yes.

‘’no. i used to have, to be honest.’’ he replied, at the same time you felt a weight being lifted off your shoulders, you couldn't be too relieved about it the way he spoke. ‘’but it's in the past, she's no longer part of my life and i couldn't be more relieved than that.’’

you didn't have many details about mr. turner’s romantic life, and that was as close as you could get. the only information you had was that he was divorced. the reason? well, you wouldn't dare to ask. at least not now. you were content to know that at least now, he wasn't with anyone.

you gave a small smile, your hand squeezing his for a short moment before you before you carefully approached, laying your head on his shoulder, hoping he wouldn't push you away. and he didn't. he relaxed his tense shoulders, wanting you to be more comfortable. his arm went around you, the same way he did to pull you closer to protect you from the rain, but his hand fell a little further, resting on your side. he felt warmer inside.

you kept your head still, your eyes open and your breathing was shaky because you were still nervous, and he did everything he could to make you more comfortable. after all, you had the initiative. the fingers of his other hand ghosted over your face, brushing the strands of hair from your face, loving how silky they were and had a soft watermelon scent.

‘’you smell good.’’ he whispered, complimenting you in a sweet way, trying not to overwhelm you or make it worse. 

‘’thank you.’’ you whispered back, moving your head a little so your nose could get a little closer to his neck, smelling the faint scent of his perfume that was still present on the collar of his shirt. ‘’you also smell good.’’

he smiled at the compliment, even though he thinks it's a lie, since he stayed at campus all morning, smoking on certain occasions and sweating during the hours.

his hand sank into your hair, his fingertips working dedicatedly on your scalp, massaging if softly. it felt like a blessing, your eyes closed immediately at his touch. he smiled, kissing your forehead. he was loving seeing you like this, so relaxed and so serene. because of him.

‘’feels nice, huh?’’ he asked quietly, seeing you open your eyes and look at him. god, how he wishes he could kiss you now. he barely had time to weigh the pros and cons, because when he realized it, your lips pressed against his in a soft kiss.

you felt your breaths mixing, your head emptied, all you thought about was him. 

him. him. him. 

it felt wrong at first, but now, everything was so right and so desirable that you wondered why you had never worked up the courage before. his lips were so inviting, you didn’t even need to feel his tongue invading your mouth to get completely hooked by him, but you still got that taste to feel his tongue swirling on your mouth, almost intertwining with yours. 

his hand pressed harder on your head, just like the hand that was resting in your waist, savoring your curves on his hand. somehow, he felt he was committing a great sin. that he was digging himself into a bottomless hole, and what's worse: he was taking you with him.

you pulled out, sighing softly, your lips were a little pumped and rosy. you opened your eyes, looking at him expectantly. did he liked? will he pull you into another kiss? will he reject you?

‘’i’m sorry.’’ you muttered when you noticed that he stayed silent, fighting a battle against his own mind.

‘’no, ’s not your fault…’’ he whispered back, sighing heavily. ‘’it was good, sweetie.’’

good. so he liked the kiss. 

in fact, he loved the kiss. he could kiss you all day if his mind wasn't so fucked up. you were his student. you were younger than him. you had your whole life ahead of you. and he didn't want to ruin it. he wanted to say he was sorry, that this probably wouldn't work, but it was as if his words were stuck in a lump in his throat.

‘’i think i better go.’’ he finally said, once again trying not to be rude. you hid your disappointment with a weak smile, nodding. 

you felt cold when he moved his body away from yours, standing up and adjusting his clothes. he could barely look at you without feeling a little guilty.

‘’thanks for the tea.’’ he said shortly, glancing at you one last time before opening the front door and leaving. 

you looked at the door, feeling hopeless. the taste of his kiss still remained on your lips, and now, it was tattooed on your mind. you wondered what would become of the two of you now.

this was wrong. you knew that.

but was it so wrong?

[jesseevelann]

Bright and early in the morning, Kakashi startled his students awake. Ushering them out of their sleeping bags and getting them straight into packing up camp. Sasuke and Naruto drowsily packed up their tent, shoving each other out of the way when they crossed paths.

Kakashi sat on a lone log reading his book, having already packed his belongings. It was mostly quiet, until the younger of his students spoke up.

"Kakashi-Sensei... where is Sakura anyway? How come she didn't come on this weeks mission?"

Sasuke turned his head slightly with interest, listening for Kakashi's response, glaring when the old man refused to lift his head.

"She's sick again,: he said, blank in his tone. Almost like he didn't care. "So she's at her home, resting."

Naruto pouted, wishing she'd be better already, before returning to his job. Sasuke scoffed, not at Sakura, but the man he had to call a teacher. He was always so vague in his explainations, and of it wasn't that, he sounded disinterested and bored. Even about his own student, who is sick, it seemed like he didn't care. And it made Sasuke's blood boil, even though he wouldn't show it.

Regardless of his annoyance, Sasuke finished packing and they left for the next village.

The mission was simple, go to a village, and help the village's leader's assistant. From what Kakashi knew, it was a kid in about his mid teens. They had no clue what he looked like, or even his name. But it didn't really matter, they wanted to be in and out.

Well, Sasuke wanted to be.

Sasuke hated missions, and even training, without Sakura, he felt so alone, even with Naruto and Kakashi barely a metre away. Sakura would stay by his side, talking about random things to fill the void of silence. But for the past few months, she's been sick, or out with her parents, or doing personal missions for the third Hokage. This was his, and Naruto's, first mission without Sakura with them. And it was awful.

He hoped she'd finally be okay after this, he missed her pointing out random facts about animals that passed by, or certain things in nature. Neither of them were good at talking to other people, especially Sasuke, it was very awkward for them to be around each other because of it. But one day, she stood up to the plate and just started talking.

It was in their academy days, a couple days before his birthday. They wouldn't have been able to see each other over the next week because of school break, so after class, Sakura chased after Sasuke before he could disappear. She stopped him by grabbing his sleeve, and after a small awkward silence, she handed him a gift.

It was wrapped in old news paper and failed printed sheets, coloured in different blues she got from the classrooms pencil container. The paper was coloured with almost no imperfections, but with how small the sheets of paper were it made the wrapping look patched up and poorly wrapped in a loose sense.

Sasuke opened it so carefully, not wanting to destroy the wrapping. Inside was a variety of things, most of them handmade.

"I... won't be able to see you for your birthday, so... present..."

Before he could thank her, though, Sasuke was swarmed by the rest of the girls in their class, wanting him to open their gifts as well. Sakura backed off and left with a saddened expression. Remembering it now, Sasuke realised he never actually thanked her.

Kakashi snapped his fingers in front of Sasuke's eyes, Sasuke glared before looking around, seeing the gates of the village they were to be staying. He let out a huff and continued to walk. Ignoring Kakashi's sigh.

In front of the gate, stood a fairly tall teenager, possibly three years older than Naruto and Sasuke. He was dressed in red and black, covering most of his body. What was exposed, was scarred fairly heavily. His face was the least scarred, with only two prominent ones. One across his right cheek, and the other on the right side of his lower lip.

"Hi there. Team Kakashi, is it? My name is Satoshi. I'm going to be showing you around the village."

His voice was deep and rough, probably due to the all the damange his body had sustained, but he acted like nothing had even happened. Sasuke half suspected that it was fake, but the scars were so deep and real looking it couldn't possibly be make up, or a transformation jutsu.

Not many ninja are good at replicating scars or injuries perfectly, especially younger ones. So he was either very talented with one specific jutsu, or he had an incredible pain tolerance.

Satoshi led them through the village gates, and Sasuke took on more of his features. He had pink hair, brought back into a low ponytail. It was a darkish shade of pink, but still vibrant enough to stand out against his clothes. His eyes too were dark, but a calming green.

He looked a lot like Sakura, but with sharper features and a much more masculine figure. It could easily be assumed that he was a distant family member. But Sakura was an only child, and all of her living family lived in Konoha. So it had to be a bizarre coincidence, or Sasuke was just very homesick and trying to find his home in other places.

Naruto was very intrigued about everything going on, the big bright lights and the village's music playing beautifully in the background. He questioned Satoshi like a young child discovering his new favourite fixation, and to Sasuke and Kakashi's surprise, Satoshi reacted well. Answering all of Naruto's questions in a big brother sort of way.

They wandered the village for quite some time, before the team split into two. Kakashi and Naruto heading north, and Sasuke and Satoshi staying in the middle of town. Sasuke picked out small oddities and strange behaviour, while Satoshi took him to where he needed, or wanted to go.

They rounded a corner and went into an alleyway. It was a shortcut, Satoshi said, a much quieter path then walking on the main street. Sasuke felt a strangely familiar nervousness build up in his stomach.

He looked up at Satoshi while they walked, analysing him closely. He was so sure, but everything in his mind told him it wasn't true.

"Something wrong, Sasuke?"

Sasuke jumped a little at the sudden voice. He stammered on his words, his face turning a bright red when Satoshi smirked.

"You figured it out, didn't you?"

"S... Sakura...??"

"Smart boy."

Sasuke stared at him confused, or was it her? He didn't quite know anymore. His mind started to spin, and his vision blurred.

Sakura caught him gently as he passed out.

[j-ut-da-e]

Scared?

The Chosen Disaster Part 1

Summary - Draco Malfoy's story is not what it seems. With the help of Ravenclaw, Estella Pillings, he goes against his family's wishes and escapes a fate worse than death.

Pairing - Draco Malfoy x Fem!OC

Word Count - 806

Warnings - talk of death eater attacks, minimal swearing

A/N - I promise Draco will be in the next part more and tell me if I missed any warnings

Keeping your expectations low would normally be your best course of action. Especially if you were to go to Hogwarts with one, Harry Potter. The start of something grand seemed to only apply to him. Grand and dangerous things followed him from the moment he stepped foot into the magical realm.

One could suppose most of the bad omens following Harry were at the fault of “He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named” gaining popularity again. His followers were staging uprisings and riots across the continent. Most recently, the quidditch world cup. Where Harry, Hermione, and Estella's family, the Weasley's, were spending a weekend.

The most notable crimes they committed were lynching muggle-borns, lifting them in the air for everyone to see, then blasting the dark mark into the sky. It was a mess. And of course, it was the first thing Fred and George relayed to Estella when they returned home. The news devastated her.

✴

Estella was now in her fourth year at Hogwarts and 15 years old. Her years spent at the school were… eventful; to put a good spin on things. In the first year, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named infiltrated the school and attacked Harry Potter. The second year the ghost of Tom Riddle possessed Ginny Weasley and released a basilisk into the school. Third-year a prisoner from Azkaban, Sirius Black, escaped and came for Harry. Though Ron explained Sirius was wrongly imprisoned and was actually Harry's Godfather, whom they helped escape a dementor's kiss.

That year was already predetermined to be eventful. The Triwizard Tournament was to be held at Hogwarts. Which meant two other wizarding schools would be sharing the castle with them: Durmstrang and Bouxbatons. Dumbledore had explained everything in their beginning of the year feast. They had a new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher as well. Alastor Moody, also known as “Mad-Eye Moody”, a famous Auror. Estella’s parents had worked with him on multiple occasions and she had met him when she was younger. Though something seemed off about him now, he didn't seem to recognize her. And the Alastor Moody she knew would never demonstrate the three unforgivable curses in a class-

"Ms. Pillings?"

Estella was scared out of her rambling thoughts and looked up at professor Mcgonagall, she glanced around and saw the classroom was empty except for her, "Oh! So sorry professor, I have to get going- quickly!"

She scrambled to collect her things and dashed out the door. As she ran through the corridors, her shoe hit a crack in the worn floor. Before she could even react she was face down on the cold stone with her books having gone every which way.

Not even reacting, Estella picked herself up and started collecting her things. Barely noticing another pair of hands helping her. She only noticed when her head crashed with someone else's.

“Oh! Draco?” she exclaimed, holding her forehead. Estella stood, shocked, “What’re you-”

He stood as well, holding her books out to her, “You’re Estella?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

She took her things from him, eyeing him suspiciously, “Yes…” she suddenly remembered her rush seeing no one else in the corridors, “But I have to go!” she said, rushing away again.

As she reaches the top of the ladder she sees the trap door to Trelawney’s classroom was already open. She peaks her head in and quickly goes to April, Cedric, and Neville’s table. The class was already in the middle of reading tea leaves.

“Daydreaming again, Estella?” Cedric asks quietly.

“Tripped in the corridor actually, Ced.”

“Are you okay?!” April yells, prompting a cold stare from Trelawney, “Are you okay?” she asks again, whispering.

“I'm fine.” she says, pretending to swirl her tea, “Cedric, are you going to enter the tournament next week?”

“Obviously. And I’m gonna win it.” he laughs.

April scoffs, “As if, Ced. Don't you remember me creaming you in that broom race last summer, you were pissed.”

“That was a broom race between two kids, not a tournament, April.” she only shrugs at him, smirking.

“Do you think Harry will be chosen too?” Estella asks.

Cedric and Neville looked at her, confused, “What do you mean? He's too young to enter.”

“Don't you remember anything that's happened since he got here? We all almost got killed by a giant snake!” Aprils exclaims, “I agree with Estella, he's gonna get chosen somehow.”

“He is a Leo.” Estella chimes in.

“You two make no sense.” Neville says, “It’s impossible for him to enter.”

April rolls her eyes, “Thanks, you nerd. We’re just joking, we know he can't be chosen. Estella?”

“Yes?” she says, not looking up.

“Why’re you only wearing one butterfly clip?”

Estella’s hands unconsciously go to her hair, one of her clips was missing, “Huh, I didn't even notice. It must have fallen out when I tripped. I’m sure I’ll find it later.”

[lonita]

Face off

When I think of hockey, I am reminded of two things: a cartoon called The Sweater (a National Film Board of Canada standard favourite, in which a young boy - a Habs fan - is given a Maple Leafs jersey by his mother), and grade eight English classes. I wasn't much of a student in grade school, but ultimately I won the English award when I graduated from grade eight. It was a mystery to me why I received the award, and if I'd been more on the ball at the time I might have asked about it. As it was, I later came to think it was because of something I'd done totally by accident - sort of. Our text for language arts - for it wasn't called English class anymore - was just that, a book entitled something like Spelling and Language Arts. Each section of the book had a word or phrase list at the end of it, from which we were to choose one, and write a short paragraph using that word or phrase. The end of the week came, and I looked over the word list for the chapter, and immediately lit upon the expression "face-off". I went home, dutifully wrote up my clever little piece, and brought it back to class Monday morning as we were all supposed to. Part of the classroom ritual was for the teacher to pick volunteers to read what they'd written aloud. Now, this was something I'd never volunteered for previously, because I was a very shy little being back then. This time, I bravely raised my hand, was chosen, and as I began to read I found myself facing a classroom full of giggling 12 and 13-year-old. Was I embarrassed? You bet. I turned a shade of red only slightly less bright than oxygenated blood. I had no idea why they were laughing, or even at what. I knew my writing hadn't been that bad. I wasn't a very confident person, but I still knew. After I'd squeakily finished reading aloud, for all the clever cheer I'd earlier felt had oozed out the bottom of my feet by this time, the teacher explained to me what I'd done . . . wrong. Wrong, though, is a matter of interpretation, as you'll soon see. In fact, interpretation was precisely what had set the classroom into a fit of giggles. When I saw the expression "face-off" in my text, I didn't think of hockey. In fact, hockey never entered my mind until I'd finished reading my piece aloud. I'd taken the phrase literally; so my piece was a very detailed account of how a person could remove their face. I do believe it included something about unscrewing the ears, as well. I think they must have given me extra points for my unintentional ingenuity, and maybe a bit more credit than I deserved. However, I wish I still had that piece. I'd love to see, now, what I'd written then. I do still have the award, and every once in a while I take it out and actually hang it up, right next to a placemat depicting the schooner Bluenose II.

[dakilove]

Who is Clair?

Tw mentions of sucide

"So yeah we should be able to learn the song by the time our-" Nohemi was interrupted by her phone ringing.

She looked at her phone before sighing and answering it.

"What do you want?"

"What why,"

"How do you know that,"

I and the others looked at each other not knowing what Nohemi was talking about.

"You're fucking lying dude Clair is not moving to south park."

"No, she can't be,"

"Isn't there maybe another town named South Park that she's talking about."

She stood there for a second. I could tell she was about to cry but was holding it in.

"I'm not leaving South Park,"

"You can tell mom and dad I don't care what they say I'm not leaving South Park."

She hung up the phone. Nohemi sighed once more and started to walk away, I looked at my friends and they shrugged not knowing what was going on or what to do. Usually, I would be able to read her but this time I wasn't too sure what she was feeling, she sounded mad, and she looked upset. I got up and followed her home, once she got into her house she slammed the door behind her. I was wondering whether or not I should go in when I heard her begin to argue with her parents. I didn't end up going inside so I just went back home. After a few minutes, I saw Nohemi's silhouette appear in her room.

"Hey what happened?" I texted her.

"I don't wanna talk about the is over text,"

"Ok, then I'll come over,"

I put my phone in my pocket and hopped onto the tree in between our houses and into nohemi's room. When I got in I just saw her sitting on her bed surrounded by journals and papers, she had also clearly been crying. I moved the papers and sat next to her, as much as I wanted to look at the papers I didn't dare, one wrong move and she could explode.

She didn't speak, She just looked at me.

"I guess I haven't exactly been honest," She began

"About what,"

"The reason I moved to South park..."

"I should start at the beginning"

"I remember this day clearly, in 5th grade, the teacher assigned a project and she split us up into groups, and I was with her. Clair."

"We were friends for a while, but there was one this, she really wanted me to kill myself. I didn't see this so I just kept going back to her. Eventually, she got her wish, after the 5th or so time of me trying to take my life my parents decided to move far away, we move here."

"I don't get it what does Clair have to do with you leaving South Park?" I asked

"My parents don't wanna risk it,"

Nohemi was quiet, she began to sniffle. When she began to cry she put her hands over her face. It was always so strange when she cried, she always tried not to cry even in front of me. Now that I think about it this explains also. All of the weird quirks that she had no explanation for, all the medication she takes, the fact she wears long sleeves even on the hottest days, it makes sense. I put my arm around her as she continued to cry, normally she wouldn't react to this but this time she hugged me back. As she continued to cry I took my chance and looked at the papers. Some had drawings but most of them were just incomprehensible writing.

"What are all these papers for" I cautiously asked.

"Oh those they're my stories Clair and I worked on them together, I wanted to keep them but every time I looked at them I just cried it brought back too many painful memories I was thinking about taking my parent's advice and just getting rid of them" she explained.

I picked up one of the books and began to read, although hard it could be done if you just took a minute.

"You shouldn't get rid of this, this is actually good"

"You think so?"

"I never knew you were a writer," I said.

"Yes I kept it hidden in fear of something similar happening, normally I'd get rid of my stories to avoid the bad memories, if the story brought back memories I would usually just start over"

"I promise to be by your side no matter what and I won't let this Clair girl get in our way"

[rakunsarebetr]

That was the last time I tried making friends in here

For Christmas, I wrote a letter to Santa asking if he could send me back to Musutafu for the winter break

I got a chemistry kit instead

I shouldn't feel disappointed it was a good gift making sure to grin big I thanked mom and dad

I opened it in the morning they wanted us all to go to someone's party later promised all my school friends will be there

while alone in my room I drank one of the chemicals from the kit I was puking for the rest of the day

they went to the party without me leaving me alone to read the book that came with the kit it was disappointing I knew those stuff already

the night I used my phone to check some stuff who knew sugar was used in explosives

School continued like usual There were better and worse days but I learned to deal with it

I was a smart girl so like a smart girl I learned what their reactions are I learned when they'd get angered the most

or I tried people turn out to be more complex than id hoped I wish there were one set of behaviors I could just memorize and they'll stop

but I was dumb so they continued

first grade rolled over and so did the next few

On the nights of my birthdays, I would talk with AllMight, listening to the birthday wishes Izuku and Katsuki sent me they promised to come over ,but never did

My parents got me a small robot for the first one in this town I spent the day playing with him

When they went to bed I sneaked and stole the toolkit from the storage room

I spent the night taking it apart and after examining what did what I put him back together

The next years weren't much different

It all blended together honestly

Nothing memorable

except for that weird week in fifth grade

We were supposed to work in groups

and I was prying to every deity I knew of, that the teacher would put me with Kaze but when she gave me that cold sinister glare, I knew I was fucked "Hitoshine Kieru with Rikugo Wisteria"

Yeah definitely fucked

Turning in her direction I gave a wobbly smile to Rikugo getting a blood-freezing glare in return

Niou wasn't at school this week, which made Rikugo way angrier But for the most part, she didn't bother me that much

But that'll change now I'm sure

The teacher explained that well start the project now in class and finish it for the next week

mumbling a wish me luck to Niou I got up and awkwardly walked up to Rikugo

Ignoring the way she looked at me as if I was a cockroach in her bathroom sitting on the empty seat by her I opened my notebook I think at that moment we silently agreed to work separately and deal with combining everything later

The class went silently for the two of us while the rest discussed ideas I mainly concentrated on a small blueprint I was working on, in the back pages of my notebook

When the class ended most of the kids walked out with a laugh The teacher soon took her bag and left as well

I wanted to go too but if I didn't want any more problems I had to wait for Rikugo so we can finally talk Once the room was empty I guess her Majesty finally decided to speak

"We have a week for this and I don't plan on prolonging being around you for too long" she began as sweetly as always

"I'm obviously I'm not allowing you in my house and I'm definitely not stepping into yours"

"Oh, you thought I'd let you in my house ?" I questioned a slight smirk tugging on my lips at the look she gave me before straightening her back

"Great then be expecting me at four," she said getting up as my mouth hung open

"What??"

"Oh and make sure it's clean I don't want to catch your germs," she said before walking out leaving me to my questions

"How do you know where I live ??" was the only thing I could let out, not like anyone even heard me

Well I did work on the appearance of my house

I made sure as much of my trash was on the ground as possible and after wiping the sweat from my forehead

I heard the doorbell ring

Letting out a sigh realizing she did actually come I went and opened the door only to see Rikugo wearing glasses way too big for her head and a scarf covering most of her hair while she held a hand over her face as if to further hide it

Unable to stop it I let out a laugh at her attempt to hide her face

"Awh is it that scary for you to be seen around my cute little home ?"

Breathing out she shoved me further into the house quickly closing the door

Finally, she took off the ridiculous glasses looking angry at me

"Do you know what people would say if they saw me in here ?" she questioned as I leaned on my wall already bored

" That we have a project to do ?''

That only caused her to scoff at me as she simply put her shoes off and walked inside as if she owned the place handing me her jacket

"Put that somewhere where it won't wrinkle"

With a glare at her, I put it on the hanger showing it to her like hello it's in front of your face!

Without paying me any attention she continued exploring my house, keeping a mostly neutral face till she got to my room making another one of those hilarious expressions of disgust nose wrinkling as she tightened her hold on the doorknob

"You're really terrible at following orders" she commented stepping in carefully while looking around, shoulders tense

enjoying having the upper hand I walked after her fake pouting

"oh, you think you'll be able to work in such terrible conditions ?"

Turning to me with an annoyed look she replied "The biggest pain would be my partner, not the conditions"

With a smirk, I walked to my desk taking the books and putting them down" Oh so were partners now? Like equals?" I questioned sitting on the floor waiting for her to do the same

looking around she quickly took my hoodie and put it on the ground before sitting on it

"don't let it get to your head too much

I'm just doing what I'm told

one more thing I'm obviously better at than you"

Rolling my eyes I opened the textbook once again as we started discussing the project

it's painful to admit but we didn't work too bad together

soon enough we were done with our thesis and had started working on the banner we had to make

she even snorted when I commented how one of the guys we wrote about had a pedo mustache

Rikugo!

The girl I've only seen smile when I fall on the ground snorted at a joke I made!

It wasn't even that original of a joke!

Soon she had to go home and we said our goodbyes promising we'd finish the project by tomorrow so that we don't have to see each other afterward

The next day at school she acted like usual

for the most part

except

there were those little moments when I'd turn and she'd be looking at me

and it wasn't that usual cold glare I think

it was

softer?

friendlier?

nicer?

well it didn't feel like she was imagining my death

so that was definitely new

Once school was over I got back home and surprise surprise at the exact same time as yesterday Rikugo showed up on my doorstep

look I know we were supposed to study but I think we got kinda distracted

We started a small conversation about the teacher quickly I learned Rikugo wasn't a big fan of her either

turned out that woman was directly telling Rikugos parents about her behavior every Friday night, the only reason she was able to come was cause her dad was out of town for the week

that honestly sounded stressful as hell and I gotta admit I felt slightly bad for her

Our talk soon shifted to books and comics and I learned she wasn't allowed to have a phone

something about it having too many bad influences

so quickly I took mine and showed her some of my favorite online comics and cartoons

She seemed so excited over those

It was fun to see her react I gotta admit

Yellow eyes sparkled big and bright as she grabbed my phone and continued scrolling

The day went by mostly like that and we basically didn't finish anything but I'm not sure how disappointed I was knowing we'll have to hang out again the next day

School went by like always she acted like I didn't exist for the most part and once it was over the day repeated with me showing her more cartoons again we didn't do any work

This continued like that till it was the last day of the deadline and with annoyed sighs and a few shared giggles afterward, we forced ourselves to finish it

I almost thought we'll become friends after this

Maybe my school life was going to get better

I really should stop getting my hopes up

Once we were done and Niou got back she became worse

Simple teasing and tripping weren't enough anymore

Shed steal my backpack when i was out of the classroom and throw it in the trash

saying that's where I belonged as well

The time I told her I thought we could be friends something new showed in her eyes

something cold

that was hate greater than id ever seen in her and with a laugh shed taken me by the hair and shoved me into a toilet seat

That was the last time I tried making friends in here 

[buckyhoney]

𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐲 𝐚, 𝐬.𝐫

𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: sorry for the lack of content, covid kinda kicked my ass this week, i'm feeling much better !! thank you for all the well wishes :)

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: professor!steve rogers x reader

𝐫𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐬/𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤/𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 & 𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐥𝐲 𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐝! 𝐡𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫, 𝐃𝐎 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭/𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐚𝐥 𝐀𝐍𝐘 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐬!

𝟏𝟖+ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 18+, language, age gap, (r mid 20's), oral (m), corruption kink (r), dry humping?

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬: 1.2k

Midterms are quickly approaching.

The stress of midterms had overwhelmed the students in your classes- just not you. University wasn't your strong point, but you've always managed to pass the semester and move along to the next.

You weren't a teacher's pet, but you knew when you had to suck up- most of your professors fell for the act.

The hallways of the buildings are filled with stressed and aggravated students. Making your way through the crowded hallway, you see the students piling into the lecture hall.

English is your biggest class and the one you seemed to be failing. If you didn't ace your midterms, you were guaranteed to fail the class.

The class wasn't hard, but there was a major distraction- one that fogged your brain and made your throat dry.

"Morning, Miss. Y/L/N." The innocent words make your knees weak and your stomach flutter.

"Good morning, Professor Rogers." Smiling sweetly, his cheeks heated to a light shade of pink.

Steve's eyes couldn't help but follow you as your found your seat. Your body had put him in a trance. Stuttering over his words whenever you asked a question- or made an innocent innuendo in class.

Your spell on him only went so far. Steve couldn't allow himself to up your grade just because. The inner goodie-goodie overpowered his affection towards you.

Every day you felt Steve cave a little more. Asking a little more questions, pretending to be interested in whatever book he had assigned that week for reading.

The other student hadn't noticed your sudden interest in the class.

For the rest of the class, you sat, legs crossed, and your laptop opened. Every so often, Professor Rogers would catch your lingering gaze.

Steve dismissed the class, but you stayed behind. This was it, time to convince him to help you out with your grade.

All the kids had left the room, and you walked down the steps, making your way to his desk.

"Professor Rogers, I actually had a question." Batting your eyelashes innocently, Steve swallowed a lump in his throat.

"Yes, what- what can I do for you?" Steve hadn't been alone with you before; his throat became dry and his palms calmy.

"Midterms are coming up..." You lean up against his desk, crossing your arms, squeezing your breast together.

"... and I could really use some extra help." Steve's eyes drop to your breasts; it's the most he's ever seen of you.

"Of course- I would love to help... I actually have some time between classes right now..." He stutters, eyes flickering back up.

"Thank you so so much!" He pulls up a seat next to him.

Sitting next to him, you pull out your laptop and open up your student portal. Scooting closer, you could see the small bulge forming in his dress pants.

Steve readjusted in his seat, not so subtly pulling at his crotch.

"This unit right here..." You click on the assignments that you had not turned in yet.

Your hand falls onto his thigh accidentally.

Steve stiffens and breathing hitches, but he doesn't want you to move it. He begins to explain the questions to you but is distracted by your hand trailing up his leg.

"Like this?" You ask, insinuating to the question, but knowing you meant about your hand placement that has crept up to his bulge- palming him slowly.

He nods, softly whimpering,

"Just like that,"

"I think I could use some help on another assignment..." Your voice, sultry and seductive.

Steve's eyes flutter shut, and his lips part.

"Of course, what was the assignment?" Steve barely manages to get out before he is interrupted by a moan.

You began to stroke his fully erect cock through his pants. Steve turns to face you better, allowing you to sink to your knees.

"I believe it was on chapter twelve." You unzip his pants, pulling them down just enough to expose his cock.

It was bigger than you could have imagined- girthy and long. Just the sight alone dampened your panties and made your mouth water.

Steve moaned as your fingers around him and began to stroke his cock.

"I think you seem to understand it just fine.." The moan turns into a whimper as your lips close around his tip.

Smirking around him, you begin to take him. Slowly bobbing your head, teasing him- your hand massaging his balls. Steve's head falls back on his chair.

His face is red, and his nails dug into the armrest- his chest rising and falling.

"Fuck," You pick up your pace, struggling to take his entire length.

Determined, you pull off of him, bracing yourself. You let a string of spit drip from your tongue onto his cock.

You take him once more, sinking all the way down till your nose brushed his abdomen. Steve couldn't believe his eyes, the whimpers and moans fell recklessly from his lips, and his hips bucked forward- causing you to gag.

You came off of him, stroking him as saliva-coated your chin and hands. Precum dripped from his tip, and you knew he could cum at any moment.

"I'll have to change your grade since you've proven extensive knowledge on the subject." Steve jerked his hips, and your pace quickened.

"Fuck! I'm gonna cum!" Steve's whine was pathetic and helpless- completely at your mercy.

"Oh, Professor, thank you so much!" You took him in your mouth once more, swirling your tongue around his tip.

His hips squirmed in his chair, gripped the armrest, and shot ropes of cum on your tongue.

Humming around him, you continued to milk his cock- not wanting to waste any of his cum.

You unbutton your skirt, pulling it up just enough to flash a view of your cunt. Steve's eyes nearly popped out from his head.

It was the prettiest little cunt he'd ever seen, He reached out to get a touch, but you backed up.

"Is there a way for extra credit for the midterm? I could really use all the help I could get," You sweetly ask, standing to your feet, whipping your mouth.

Steve nods, breathless.

You step forward, his fingers slipped between your thighs- feeling the slick folds. Straddling his lap, you kiss his lips.

His hands roamed up and down the sides of your body like it was the last thing he'd ever feel.

"You're the best professor!" You rolled your cunt over his cock.

Softly moaning, you continued with your movements. Every now and then, your clit would graze his tip, making it harder for you to keep from cumming.

Each roll of your hips and every soft whine from your lips made it harder for him to concentrate.

He twitched underneath you, and his head was in a daze- he swore he cum again.

You glance over at your laptop; he had only ten minutes till his next class.

Moaning you, pulled yourself off his lap.

"I don't want to make you late for your next class..." Steve's eyes shot open, pleading that you stay.

"I'll see you tomorrow, Professor Rogers!" You kissed his cheek, guiding his fingers over your cunt.

"Don't forget about my extra credit?" You smirk before fixing your skirt.

[angel-riki]

Dazed & Dreaming {Ch. 1}

summary: Y/N's life was always quite normal, some may even consider it boring. However, Y/N enjoyed her simple life and the little pleasures it brought. Unfortunately, that all changed the day she found out her best friend's biggest secret. Her discovery leads her down a rabbit hole of a new and confusing world she never knew existed. She must now navigate this new life filled with love, fear, and the supernatural. What awaits her down this path?

pairing: enhypen x reader (vampire au)

warnings: light swearing

word count: 1,435

chapters: [Ch.2] [Ch.3] [Ch.4]

~~~~~~~~~~

The brisk autumn air pricked at your cheeks, making you shiver as you clutched your coat tighter around your body. You picked up your pace as your shoes tapped lightly against the pavement. Walking to school was nice this time of year, you loved the autumn scenery which was full of rich colors and leaves dancing in the wind. Winter on the other hand, was another story. It was also quite pretty, yet much more inconvenient and impractical. However, right now it was a pleasant walk.

Before you know it, you're at the entrance of your school, trudging up the stairs. Oh how you longed to be back in your warm, soft bed, asleep. You begrudgingly continued on your way when you heard a familiar voice ring out,

"Y/N! Wait up!"

You recognize the voice without even needing to turn around, it was Jake. Jake had been your best friend since he had moved here from Australia way back in middle school. He meant the world to you. You've grown so close over the years, he practically knows everything about you at this point. And you know all about him as well. You smiled and waved at the cheerful boy as he jogged to catch up with you. Slightly out of breath and with flushed cheeks, he greeted you,

"Good morninggg!" He drew out the last syllable with a dorky grin on his face. You giggled, he was always so cute without even trying.

"Good morning," you replied, happily.

"Kind of chilly this morning, huh? Did you walk to school again?" He asked.

"Yeah, I did. I always walk to school, you know that," you chuckled at his silly question.

"You knowww," he began,

Oh boy here we go, you thought.

"Heeseung would totally give you a ride to school if you'd like," he stated. Jake had made this offer to you a few times, however, you always declined. Heeseung was a close friend of Jake's yet he was merely an acquaintance to you at best, you would feel bad having him drive you around. Especially since he already gave Jake rides every morning.

Also not to mention, you found Heeseung incredibly attractive and you don't think your heart could handle that...

"No that's okay, I wouldn't want to impose," you politely declined like always. Jake sighed. You were always so considerate, almost to a fault.

"Y/N, Heeseung totally wouldn't mind, he isn't like that, you know." He smiled, trying to convince you to accept the offer. Especially, knowing that winter was just around the corner.

"I know...I just would rather not," you said trying to escape the topic as your cheeks began to heat up. Jake sighed defeatedly and decided to let it go as you both continued your way into the building.

*****

The end of the day couldn't come soon enough as you headed towards your final class; physics. Yay. You've always hated physics and although you were a straight A student, your grades suffered in that class. Thankfully, Jake was quite good at physics and was always happy to help. Over time, he basically became your tutor. You scanned the front board to see what the topic of the lesson was today. Like usual, you couldn't make sense of any of it. God, I wish I had Jake's brain, you thought to yourself.

As much as you tried not to, you ended up tuning out the teacher and his lecture as your mind wandered to anything but physics. Before you knew it, class was over and students began gathering their books and shuffling out of the classroom. Shit. I didn't pay attention to any of that. You mentally kicked yourself for slacking off. Well, at least the school day is over. You headed back to your locker where you saw Jake waiting for you.

"Hey Y/N, how was physics? I know it's your favorite class," he said sarcastically.

"Shut up," you slapped him playfully on the arm, "I actually totally zoned out the whole period. Therefore, I'm lost and you really have your work cut out for you as my tutor," you retorted.

He laughed and shook his head, "Y/N, you're killing me!" He said while jokingly clutching his chest in imaginary pain.

"I know, I know, I'm sorry I should honestly be paying you at this point," you laughed.

"Nah don't worry about it, I'm happy to help," he said. Gosh he's so sweet, you thought. Sometimes you felt like you didn't deserve him. But if you ever dared to say that out loud, you know you would receive an immediate rebuttal from him. Because that's just how Jake is.

*****

*BZZZ* *BZZZ* * BZZZ*

You rolled over and groaned. Ughhh, it's already time to get up? You had stayed up later than usual the night before. You had been facetiming with Jake as he tried to explain your physics homework to you. Unfortunately, it took you quite a while to understand it since you hadn't paid attention in class earlier that day.

Just 5 more minutes...you thought as you lazily snoozed your alarm.

*****

Your eyes fluttered open as you awoke for the second time. Hm, that's weird. Why didn't my alarm go off yet? You grabbed your phone to check the time. You squinted as your eyes adjusted to the bright screen. Oh shit. You had overslept for 45 minutes. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. You mentally cursed at yourself as you scrambled to get ready in half the time you usually do. You frantically threw on your school uniform and hurried to the bathroom to brush you teeth. You gasped as you saw your reflection. You had the worst bed head you had EVER seen. Just my luck. You quickly threw your hair up into a half updo. Guess I'm going for the messy look today. You hurried downstairs and grabbed a granola bar on your way out. You headed down your driveway only to see a car parked on the side of the road right in front of your house. You were a bit confused but as you got closer you were met with two familiar faces. Oh no. This is Heeseung's car. Your stomach did a backflip. Heeseung smiled and gave a small wave as Jake greeted you from the passenger seat,

"Hey, Y/N! Sorry for the surprise, I knew you would never accept the ride but the weather's getting colder and I don't want you to get sick," Jake rambled.

"Jake told me that you walk to school every morning, but I don't mind giving you a ride, it's no problem at all," Heeseung added with a kind smile.

You appreciated the kind gesture, however, you were mortified. Here you were, looking like the hottest mess of the century in front of the hottest boy of the century. This can't be happening. Of all days, why today?!

You smiled meekly, "Wow, uh, thank you that's very kind of you! I guess I'll take you up on that offer since you already went out of your way to come here," you said apologetically. The two boys smiled at you as you opened the car door and climbed into the back seat.

*****

So far, the ride had been fairly quiet until Jake suddenly broke the silence,

"Y/N, did you do something different with your hair?" Jake asked as he turned around to face you.

God, why did he have to bring that up??

"Uh, yeah, I actually woke up late and my hair was a mess so I just tried to make the best of it," you laughed nervously.

"Ohh, well it looks nice!" he complimented.

"Yeah, you look cute." Heeseung added with his eyes still on the road.

You froze. Your brain began malfunctioning as you tried to compute what Heeseung just said. He called me cute. You chuckled anxiously as you felt your cheeks burning up.

"Thank you," you said shyly.

Jake had noticed your abrupt change in body language, which confused him. But then, it all clicked. Oh...She has a crush on Heeseung. He didn't know how he hadn't noticed it sooner. He grinned to himself, amused by his realization. Suddenly, it made sense why you never accepted a ride.

~~~~~~~~~~

Hi, guys! I hope you enjoyed the first chapter! I know it was a bit slow, but once the introductory part is out of the way, hopefully things will pick up the pace. Regardless, thank you for reading! I am also uploading this series on wattpad, so if you’d like to support it over there, that would mean a lot! I'm hoping to publish new chapters a couple times a week so keep your eyes peeled hehehe

~Elle <3

[aestheticsuwu]

📌My Alphabet Boy📌

Robby Keene x Doug Rickenberger

Tutor Au

....

Robby is asked to tutor another student by his teacher in which he agrees to but to his surprise , the person he will be tutoring  is Doug that is not to happy about their study sessions .

.....

Robby knew people stereotyped his appearance, his clothing and the type of music he listens to . He enjoys the different shade of black that his clothes consisted , he likes playing with the rings on his fingers whenever he felt anxious and once in awhile a bit of eyeliner because he deserved to look pretty .

Troublemaker was probably what some might think of him But Robby was actually more than that .

Thank God .

Its probably the reason why Rickenberger looked quite suprise seeing him enter the class where the boy would be assign  to his tutor.

Doug , who is well known as Rickenberger , the attractive athlete and the partner in crime of Hawk's pranks .

"Mr. Keene please shut the door," Ms. Del Luna smiled sweetly , She waited for him to take a seat next to the boy who looked like he rather be anywhere else,

 " Robby will be your tutor until you manage to improve your grades . Rickenberger, Im expecting you to do better here." She said firmly but her eyes were  kind like a mother scolding her child.

" Mr. Keene do whatever it takes to suceed." The teacher refocused her attention to Robby , passing him a file where she explained in where Rickenberger seem to be failing-in which it seem mainly in literature and History -And gave him a tip where to start off.

Robby listened closely to her directions and not the opposite like the taller boy who kept silence  in his seat with his arms crossed and his jaw shut tight.

Ms. Del Luna bid them goodbye , walking them out of her classroom and wished Robby good luck .

Robby and Rickenberger just stared at each other akwardly . Both boys never really interacted with eachother besides the occasional teasing comment or the mutual friends hangout .

" You can't tell no one about this , not one word to anyone shortstack ." Rickenberger warned Robby who didnt look fazed.

" Trust me i wouldn't want people to think i voluntary want to be near you , asshole ." Robby scoff and rolled his eyes .

"Your no walk in the park either little puppy." Rickenberger said with a smirk, he waited for a reaction in which he did . Robby juted his jaw and rolled his eyes again .

"Dont call me that again unless you want me to let you fail," Robby threaten him ." We'll meet at your place and at mine .We will take turns is that fine , Doug ?". Robby fixed his bag and looking at the raven haired boy who just nodded .

"It's fine by me baby and its Rickenberger " Doug corrected him , he didn't like when people called him by his name.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever you say Doug ." Robby left but not before smirking at Doug's unimpressed face of going against what he said.

.......

"Are you paying attention or just checking me out ? " Robby ask, realising Doug had not uttered a word or remark about anything he had said .

Robby knew Doug liked to focus on anything other than paying attention sometimes . But he promised he would try harder .

"Checking you out." The words immediately slipped out before Doug could stop himself .Both were stunned for a second making him more embarrassed.

"What ?" Robby squeaked out , he was joking when he asked the question and not expecting a response.

"What ?" Doug repeated like if he didn't just admit that he was pratically eye fucking him just a second ago.

~~~~~~

Doug sat on the grass with his back against a tree with the best shade for him and Robby who was leaning his back against his chest and body between his legs .

Robby read out loud from a book of Mrs. Del Luna assignment sheet , Robby started to do it once he learned Doug was dyslexic.

Somehow they transitioned their relationship into something Robby never had . Doug was more than a friend, Robby doesn't kiss his friends like he sometimes wants to kiss Doug . Robby counts every minute left to be at their spot again with Doug's hand running through his hair .

Robby read until a couple of elder women walked by and commented making him and Doug flustered.

" You both make an adorable couple , sweethearts." One of the old ladys said sweetly ,who wore red bold lipstick and apologize for interrupting and continued to walk with her partner .

They both looked at each other speechless with a shy smile on both of their faces , Doug wanted to say something but before he could , rain started to pour .

They ran to the nearest building they could find unfortunately the store was close leaving them soaking wet . He couldn't help but laugh knowing he probably look like a wet rat but Robby still look pretty like always .

" Whats so funny!? " Robby didn't find anything funny , he held his backpack over his head to stop getting wet .

And maybe he shouldn't have watched that dumb movie that his little sister insisted to watch last night but if Fucking Ryan Gosling can make kissing in the rain romantic then maybe he can too.

Without a word he kisses Robby. He helds Robby face carefully with his hands and prays Robby doesn't punch him when pulls away.

But Robby drops his bag to wrap his arms around his neck and kisses him back with the same passion and need .

[blindingdutchy]

lamentation | TWO

{peter parker x fem!reader AU}

based on All the Bright Places by Jennifer Niven

SERIES MASTERLIST

word count: 3,495

warnings: depression, anxiety, mental illness! angst, fluff if you squint really hard

18+!!! minors stay away

Peter Parker was relentless, insufferable, and extremely annoying. It all started the morning after what you'd decided to call The Encounter, and it had been unending ever since. Nearly a week had passed since that fateful night, and you'd yet to see a day at school where Peter didn't try his hardest to get under your skin.

On Monday he sat next to you in Calculus, and no matter how blatantly you ignored him for the entire class, he continued to whisper facts about himself and stupid little jokes to you. You wished you could say you hadn't listened, but ever since that morning you'd been unable to forget that his favorite color was red, his Aunt packed him a lunch every day that he threw away because she couldn't cook, and his middle name was Benjamin. Why he thought you needed or even wanted to know such things you weren't sure, but even more befuddling was the fact that you couldn't un-learn them.

When Tuesday rolled around he stepped it up a notch, much to your dismay. He sat with you during Calculus and insisted on jogging with you during gym class, feigning that he was out of breath despite your slow pace and the fact that you were certain he could run for miles without getting winded. He told you more jokes then, too. One of which you begrudgingly found yourself exhaling a little harder over whenever it popped into your head; what did one stranger say to the other? Nothing. They didn't know each other.

Wednesday was the worst, because Peter made a scene. You came into calculus late and the teacher scolded you in front of the class, at which point you got flustered and tripped over your untied shoe laces. Your books spilled to the floor and you tumbled to your knees in front of everyone, and the whole class laughed. But Peter? Peter just had to be the hero, and your blood boiled at his actions.

He'd dramatically swept all his books off of his desk, feigning surprise at the loud clatter as if he hadn't done it intentionally. When the teacher scolded him, too, he just apologized and made a show of picking up each of his things one by one. "Why did you do that?" you'd hissed as you sat down, scowling at the brown-eyed boy who just blinked at you innocently.

"Do what?"

He'd ran with you in gym class again, and he'd even followed you to your locker afterwards. In all the years you'd known of Peter, you had never known him to be much of a talker. In fact, he seemed like a rather shy boy who didn't like to branch out much. With you, though, that was far from the case. Silence was a pipe dream with him around.

On Thursday he sat next to you in Calculus, ran with you in gym, walked you to your locker, and went so far as to sit with you at lunch. You'd put your earbuds in and blasted music as loud as you could without hurting yourself too much, but every time you looked up you could see he was still talking. Part of you wondered why he was being so relentless, but you didn't want to ask. If you asked he would think you cared, and you didn't. You didn't care at all, and the sooner he figured that out, the sooner he would leave you alone.

Or, at least you hoped so. As you walked into school on Friday morning, you groaned at the sight of Peter waiting patiently beside your locker. "What do you want, Parker?" you gritted out, glaring at him as you twisted the dial to enter your combination.

He grinned in spite of your glare, "I'm walking you to Calculus today, obviously. How was your night, (Y/N)? Do anything fun?"

"What part of I don't need friends did you not understand?" you demanded, giving him a stale look as you swung the metal door open with a clang. Peter blinked at you, clearly not used to you actually speaking back to him, and further uncomfortable with your hostility. What did he expect? Did he expect for you to suddenly be happy? To not be completely fucked up anymore just because he started talking to you?

He replaced his lazy smile and shrugged, retorting, "You know my secret and I know yours. That makes us friends."

You wanted to scream at him. You wanted to shout, yell, stomp your feet, and throw a tantrum fit for a child. Friends were not something you wanted or needed, and you certainly didn't want to be friends with Peter Parker. You didn't want to be friends with someone just because they were worried you'd spill their dirty little secret, or because they pitied the girl who wanted to die.

The black hole in your chest was worse than ever that day, and it sucked away all the fight you had in you. So, with a roll of your eyes, you stuffed your earbuds in your ears and tuned him out once more. Just like he had at lunch, Peter continued to ramble even though he knew you weren't listening, and you pretended you didn't see his lips moving at the speed of light.

For once, at the very least, he at least shut up in class. You were thankful for the break from his incessant chatter, the endless monologue you couldn't escape from when you were stuck in a desk while Mr. Tinley droned on and on. Calculus was far from interesting, but you found yourself beyond relieved to finally be able to pay any sort of attention to the lesson.

Friday was steadily continuing along the same path every other day had since The Encounter. Peter thankfully parted ways with you after Calculus, but quickly rejoined you two classes later in Gym. From Gym he was glued to your side through lunch until you escaped to your Spanish class, which you thankfully didn't share with him, but the solitude was short lived. Your last class of the day was one you also shared with Peter, and prior to that day he had remained seated with his friends.

That day, though, he plopped down in the seat beside you with a cheerful smile. "Ready for our new project?" he asked, skipping the greeting he knew you wouldn't return.

"Huh?" you asked, blinking at him in bewilderment. New project? Our? What was he talking about?

Peter beamed back at you, clearly pleased that you hadn't snapped at him for once. "Our new project! Didn't you see the list on the door? We're partners." he explained, and you stiffened.

It was too big of a coincidence to truly be happenstance. All week Peter had been pestering you, perpetually following you around and talking your ear off, and now he just happened to be assigned as your partner for the final Speech project? He did something. That was the only logical conclusion.

Your eyes narrowed as you stared at him with as much intensity as you could muster. "Peter, what did you do?" you growled.

Peter's eyes widened at your tone, and he shifted in his seat nervously with a sheepish smile. "What do you mean?" he questioned coyly, and you scowled at him fiercely. "I didn't do anything, (Y/N)."

"Bullshit." you snapped, "I find it hard to believe that we just happened to be assigned partners after how obsessively you've been harassing me all week."

He gaped at you, "Harassed? What?" he stammered, "(Y/N), let's calm down--I haven't... I haven't been harassing you. I just want you to know I really do want to be your friend."

You scoffed at his excuse, "Shut up, Peter. Just leave me alone! I don't want to be your friend, okay? My lips are sealed. I won't tell anyone your secret, just leave me alone!"

With one finally glare, you lurched out of your seat and stomped to one far away from the still aghast boy. As you settled into your new seat, ignoring the strange looks from your classmates who witnessed your outburst, you wrinkled your nose and picked at your nails angrily. As much as you were angry with Peter, you were also angry with yourself.

You were angry that he'd stopped you, and you'd let him. You were angry at the world for letting your sister die. You were angry at your sister for saving you when she should have saved herself. Most of all, though, you were angry with yourself for how you were acting. Even though she wasn't there, you could almost hear your sister scolding you for how you'd treated Peter.

She always was the levelheaded, rational sister. The good sister. The better sister. She would have been ashamed of how you'd been ignoring Peter, ranting to you, "He's just trying to be there for you, idiot. Stop being such a jerk and let him help you. You need to stop being so stubborn..."

You listened eagerly to Ms. Lovell's lesson and instruction for the new project. It wasn't because you were genuinely interested, because you weren't, but it was something to distract you. It was something to drown out the voice of your sister that was echoing through your skull, rattling you to your core as you tried to keep your emotions at bay.

This was the hardest part of losing your sister. She'd been so close to you, so important to you, it was impossible to not think of her in every moment of every day. It was impossible not to think of what she'd have done, instead of what you had done. It was impossible not to think of what she'd have thought of your actions, what she'd have said to you, of what she'd have wanted you to do.

She had been your voice of reason, your confidant, your role model. She'd always been so much better than you, someone you aspired to be like, and now that she was gone the comparisons were so much heavier on your head. Why couldn't it have been you instead of her? She would never have had such a hard time like you were.

For instance, she wouldn't have been so bitter. She wouldn't have been so filled with rage, hatred, or despair. She wouldn't have blamed anyone, not even herself, and she wouldn't have hated the people who had killed you. She always did love a good superhero, and even if you'd have died at the hands of the Avengers like she had, she would have found a reason to still have faith in them. She would have forgiven them.

This project was going to be a tough one, and not just because you were going to have to work with Peter Parker. "This is going to be a persuasive speech, guys, so you're able to pick your stance freely so long as it pertains to the Avengers. For example, you could persuade us that they're bad, if that's how you feel." Ms. Lovell explained, "Just be prepared to face debate from the class. Each group has to face five full minutes of argument from the class and be able to firmly debate their stance."

A project in which you'd have to argue your stance pertaining to the superheroes that had killed your sister, and you were working with Peter-Spiderman-Parker. Great, you thought to yourself, this was going to be a nightmare. There was no way the two of you would agree on what stance to persuade; you hated superheroes, and he was one, for God's sake.

You glanced over at Peter, only to catch him already staring at you. The pair of you quickly looked away from each other, but you noticed the way his cheeks flared red in embarrassment. How long had he been watching you? Was he dreading the project now as much as you were?

He probably didn't know how you felt about the Avengers. Not many people really cared enough to read about what had happened to your sister, and you weren't exactly in the right state of mind to be out protesting the many shortcomings of the superheroes. You wondered, though, how he would react when he found out.

Lying was an option, but there was no way you'd be able to debate in favor of the Avengers without breaking. Could you debate against them without losing it either, though? You weren't entirely sure. It was a sore subject and you were certainly not looking forward to having to dedicate your time to speaking about them.

Peter lingered by his seat after class was dismissed, staring at you awkwardly as he told his friends he would catch up with them later. You could see the strange, weary looks they shot you, but you chose to ignore them. Everyone looked at you a little funny ever since the incident, and you'd long ago grown accustomed to it. This time, though, you couldn't help but think they were looking at you strangely for a reason other than your sister.

You had two options. You could suck it up and talk to Peter right then, or you could continue to ignore him until you were forced to do the project. Catching his warm brown eyes as he timidly watched you, you sighed. It was now or never; maybe if you were nicer he'd back off a little with the obsessive tendencies.

"So," you drawled, approaching him shyly, "how are we gonna do this?"

This was what she would have wanted you to do; that's what you chanted in your head as you forced yourself to at least seem somewhat approachable. "Uh, we could--we could meet up tomorrow? You could come to my apartment." he stuttered, scratching his neck awkwardly and fiddling with his backpack.

He radiated nervous energy, and the black hole inside of you consumed it greedily. You twiddled your thumbs just as nervously as you replied, "Do you, um, do you mind coming to my house instead? My parents are--they're a little weird about me going out because of... yeah."

God, his stutter was rubbing off on you, and you cringed at the way you stumbled over your words like a fool. It had been such a long time since you'd invited anyone to your house, let alone talked to anyone besides your parents and your therapist, and it was stressing you out. The exhaustion of the day was wearing you down rapidly, and having to socialize was making it worse.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, of course!" he spluttered, "Uh, could I get your number? So I can, like, text you when I'm coming?"

You hoped he didn't notice how much your fingers were shaking as you took his phone, struggling to type in your number as you mistyped multiple times. Once you'd saved your contact into his phone, you sent yourself a text so that you'd have his number too. You didn't exactly answer unknown numbers anymore, though if you were honest, you often didn't answer people you knew either. That was what drove your friends away.

Peter shot you a shy smile as you handed his phone back, and he asked, "Do you want to get started tonight, maybe? I could call you."

Biting your cheek, you paled. Tonight? You were exhausted, and the thought of having to talk for any longer made you nauseous. "No offense, Peter, but I... I really just need a break. This week has been a lot." you mumbled, avoiding his eyes as you stared at your feet.

"Oh, yeah, totally." he acquiesced, "I'll, uh, I'll see you tomorrow."

You didn't reply, only giving him a tight lipped smile that probably looked more like a grimace as you quickly walked away. Once you were out of his sight, your entire body drooped and the numbness steadily washed over you. It had been the longest day, and you were once again grateful for the escape from the overwhelming emotions.

Ever since she died, it was as if all your emotions were on overdrive. There were the many constant ones, like the guilt, shame, and anguish over her death. Along with those were more fleeting ones, like anger, disgust, and fear. Peter, though, he brought about a whole slew of new and equally as intense feelings that drained you.

He made you feel things like anxiety, apprehension, and hope. There was anxiety both due to his wild behavior in regards to you, but also because you feared he might tell people what he'd seen. The apprehension was due to your suspicion he was only so interested because you knew his secret, and was just as fearful that you would tell. But the hope, the stupid anticipation, was the worst.

It was the worst because a stupid part of you hoped he was genuine. You wanted him to really want to be your friend with no ulterior motives because, no matter how much you denied it, you really did need a friend. You wanted a friend. You wanted to let someone in.

You weren't buying it, though, because you were certain you couldn't handle the heartbreak of being wrong about his intentions and discovering he really did only care about his secret. You weren't going to let him hurt you, and if you had to shut yourself off from the world and hurt yourself to prevent it, then so be it. It was easier that way.

Peter Parker: hey i know you said you didn't want to start tonight but that doesn't mean we can't get to know each other

Peter Parker: so if you want, lets play 20 questions! i'll start. what's your favorite movie?

The typing cursor blinked at you tauntingly as you laid on your bed, huddled under the blankets with your thumbs hovering over the keys. That stupid part of you that wanted to make your sister proud begged you to go along with it, to let him be a friend, but you were terrified. You were terrified of the way you actually opened the text and went to reply without hesitation, something you hadn't done since before the incident. You were terrified of the way you wanted to reply, but the only thing that gave you pause was the fact that you didn't have an answer.

Movies weren't something you'd given much thought to in awhile. You knew all of your sister's favorite movies by heart, but your favorite movie? It was as if your brain opened an empty drawer. You didn't know what your favorite movie was.

You: i don't know

Peter Parker: what do you mean you don't know

Peter Parker: do you not like movies?!

You: i just don't know okay

You: i can't remember the last time i watched a movie.

That was a lie. You very well could remember the last time you'd watched a movie, and that was because it was with her. The weekend before she'd died, your sister had dragged you to the theater to watch some cheesy romance film she'd been gushing about for weeks. It was awful, but it was so utterly her that you'd weirdly enjoyed it. You enjoyed it because it made her happy.

Peter Parker: that's crazy wow

Peter Parker: no offense sorry

Peter Parker: it's your turn to ask

You: what's your favorite movie

Peter Parker: star wars but you can't ask the same question!! try again

You: fine

You: what's your favorite food?

Was talking to boys always this hard? You couldn't remember the last time you'd had to get to know someone, but you didn't think it had ever been so nerve wracking. Was something wrong with you? Was everything destined to be this hard now that she was gone?

Peter Parker: anything from Delmar's

Peter Parker: best sandwiches in Queens

Peter Parker: since you got a double and you technically didn't answer my first question, i'm asking you the same but also what's your happiest memory

Everything was always going to be hard. Reading his response, your lungs deflated in your chest and the numbness gave way to the all too familiar sensation of despair. She'd always loved Delmar's, insisting on getting the same sandwich from there every single Friday after school, and it had been your thing.

Would there ever be anything that didn't remind you of her? Remind you of the hole punched in your life where she used to be? It was hard enough dealing with the empty space in your room where her bed used to be, the empty chair at the dinner table where she'd used to sit, all the empty spaces she'd used to fill up. But the little things--the little memories of things she'd used to love--those hurt so much more.

You: i have to go

You: i forgot i'm busy tomorrow so we can't start the project

You: i'm sorry

SERIES TAG-LIST {ask to be added}:

@msmimimerton

[poppinisperfection]

Cool. || Peter Maximoff x Reader pt. 1 ||

Peter Maximoff x fem!human!Reader

(Y/n) is history teacher.

Requested.

Word Count: 3543

Notes: Peter acts a little strange in this, he's not being cold on purpose - so keep that in mind. Let's all presume (Y/n) is an independent woman who doesn't let an aloof guy ruin her day 💫 it's more of an introduction, so sorry if that dissapoints y'all. I hope you enjoy this extremely long piece of writing, let me know what you think. Requests are open 🙌

Taglist: @amourtentiaa @scorpionchild81

Masterlist

I flicked the indicator, as it clicked rhythmically and signaled my next turn. Grasping the steering wheel tightly, I wondered whether the direction I was heading in was the right one. My eyes drifted down to the small business card that was beginning to wrinkle from the amount of times it had been read and re-read.

‘Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters.

407 Graymalkin Lane, Salem Center, Westchester County, New York’

With a deep breath, I pushed my foot gently on the accelerator and turned the wheel - solidifying my decision. I drove down the graveled driveway as the evening sun pierced through the acres of fields and forests that dotted the landscape. This place was unlike any school I had ever seen. I had taught at various institutions of all kinds during my training, but something about this place was like something out of a fairytale or Jane Austen novel.

The old academic building grew closer as I prepared to slow down my vehicle and stop at the entrance. I peered around, trying to see if there was any places dedicated for me to park; but as far as I could tell, this was the only appropriate place for me to stop. 

I pulled out my key and felt the car’s engine fade to silence. I didn’t notice how comforting the gentle grumbles of the vehicle had been until they were gone. Now, all that was left was my mind and the thousand worries that crashed around inside it. I'm not a mutant, but I often wonder if being anxious about everything is some sort of weird useless mutation that I unfortunately had. 

Before I could become consumed by my menial fears, the vintage wooden doors opened up as if on cue. A man in a chair wheeled out as his familiar face smiled at me, and I was honestly quite awe-struck by his sudden appearance. I had spoken to Professor Charles Xavier on the phone before (for the job interview), and I had watched him on television a few times, but something about actually being near him was so incredible. This man changed the lives of so many people, possibly even the world.

I took a deep breath in and returned the kind smile, opening my car door and placing my feet onto the ground - the gravel crunching underfoot.

"Professor Xavier, it's so good to meet you." I spoke nervously, unsure of what I should do with my posture. Should I shake his hand? Should I high-five him? Should I bow? Okay maybe those last two were a bit far-fetched...

"The pleasure is all mine, (Y/n)." A voice rang through my head, as if it were my own thoughts speaking to me. But I recognized the voice, a smooth English accent that belonged to the world's most famous telepath.

"Incredible..." I breathed. Some might find it intrusive or freaky, but I was quite honored and honestly dazzled by his abilities. A figure appeared behind the wheelchair-bound man, distracting me from my child-like awe.

"Don't be a such a show-off, Charles." my attention turned to a tall man wearing a pair of glasses and a smart checkered shirt. "Good Evening, I'm Hank McCoy." he piped up cheerily, holding out his hand for me to shake. I absentmindedly took it, a bit starstruck by the world-renowned engineer, scientist, blue-furry man, and genius.

"(Y/n) (L/n)." I eventually spoke up, causing Hank to raise an eyebrow at my words.

“’(L/n)’? You're the new history teacher?" I nodded at his question, "Oh wow, you came so highly recommend that I presumed you'd be a bit more... experienced?" he chose his words carefully as to not offend. I know that most people picture an old greying woman who wears outdated fashion when they think of a history teacher...

"Oh, I'm young, I know." I explained with a bashful chuckle. 

“Hank, you of all people should know greatness is not defined by age.” Charles turned to his colleague. 

“I read that you graduated Harvard at 16.” I blurted out. 

“15, actually.” McCoy mumbled humbly. Xavier gave a satisfied smile as his point was proven. 

“(Y/n) here was top of her class, and I have no doubt that she’ll be a wonderful addition to the school.” the wise mutant stated, assuring Hank and giving me a boost of confidence. “Come inside, Hank can carry your bags for you, won’t you?” the professor inquired cheekily as McCoy threw him a look of slight distain. 

“Somedays I wish I wasn’t born with super-strength...” the academic man shook his head - the comment laced with light-hearted sarcasm - before heading to my car and pulling out my two bags, not even giving me a chance to politely object to the offer. 

“Ignore him, he’s just grumpy because he’s not on the mission.” Professor Xavier chuckled, turning his wheelchair around and beckoning for me to follow him inside. 

“I only trust myself to pilot that beauty.” Hank mentioned wistfully, probably referring to his famous aeronautical creation.

“’The mission’?” I questioned with intrigue, trailing behind him and entering the grand entrance.

“The X-Men are on a routine escort mission for the President at the moment,” my attention turned away from the antique décor as I choked on my breath slightly at his words. Of course I had heard of the famous troop of mutant heroes, but it just suddenly became so real. I was living where the X-Men lived. You know, the same X-Men that saved the world from complete destruction. “I was hoping they’d be here to show you around - but duty calls.” Charles finished. 

“Oh of... of course, duty...” I managed to mutter out eventually, earning a slight laugh from the Professor. He didn’t need to be a telepath to read my mind right now. I was so obviously astonished at the whole situation. I couldn’t believe that I was finally here, after months of thinking, considering, and second-guessing. I knew it was a risk, and I couldn’t even return to my parents if it failed.

Let’s just say that my folks weren’t very supportive of my decision to teach at a 'mutant mansion', as they would call it. Maybe it was stubbornness, maybe it was bravery; but I ignored their advice and became determined to come to Xavier’s School for Gifted Youngers. Now it was my only chance, since my family won't be welcoming me back anytime soon.

I followed Charles around, as he showed me all the rooms and explained some of the history as Hank make the odd comment or interjection. Most notably that the house was actually only a few years old, owing to the fact that the school had been blown up and rebuild a year ago. That was a fact that I could’ve gone without knowing. All I could do was hope that it didn’t blow up again, or at least not when I was around anyway. 

"Your classroom will be right next to the library," Xavier motioned towards a pair of wooden doors that lay open for students to walk freely into, "and feel free to check out any of the books as well - I have a few secret shelves for teachers, with some unregulated research papers on pre-20th century mutations, if that sounds interesting to you?" he added with a playful smile, as I nodded my head in admiration. This place sounded like an absolute dream, and I've only been here for less than an hour.

-------

As we strolled (and wheeled) down the wooden hallways, I noticed the students disappear one by one. By the looks of it, the early night had truly set in, and the majority of children were either in their rooms studying or hanging out in a common area.

"I suppose there's nothing more we can show you until the class starts tomorrow morning, I was really hoping that the team would be back by now..." Xavier gave a short sigh and furrowed his brows slightly, "But I suppose I've prolonged your tour as long as I could. Perhaps Hank, you could show (Y/n) to her room and she can rest in preparation for tomorrow." his smile returned as he asked his colleague for another favor. McCoy nodded his head and gave me a polite smile, still carrying around my bags from earlier. Maybe he didn't anticipate the Professor giving such an expansive and detailed tour of the mansion, so the bags must've been getting burdensome at this stage.

The spectacle-wearing teacher walked ahead of me and strolled towards the grand staircase that lead to the upstairs area (which we had previously travelled to earlier, but it's mainly bedrooms that we couldn't intrude into). I trailed my fingers along the carved bannister of the staircase, admiring the craftsmanship. Considering the school had been blown apart; this place looked as though it was straight out of a historical drama. The Professor could've went for a more modern update, like the ones you see in magazines and government buildings - but something about the simplicity of 1980s architecture just seemed cold and clinical. I'm glad they kept the historical charm alive.

"So you're really not, well, you know..." Hank broke me out of my daydreaming as he turned his head slightly and paused at the top of the steps. It took me a second to register what he was asking, but then it hit me.

"A mutant? Oh," I gave a meek smile before answering, "No I'm just a regular 'homosapien', completely boring." my sentence ended with a light chuckle at my own expense.

"Then you'll be the first non-mutant teacher here, you're making history." McCoy replied with zest as he began to walk down the hallway again.

"I thought I was supposed to teach history, not make it." I chirped from behind him, earning a snort and chuckle from the nerdy fellow (I know, I know - I'm a superb comedian).

As we passed by the student rooms, I could hear the various sounds emerging from behind their doors. One was gossiping loudly to their friends, another was blasting ABBA and singing along, and I could've swore that I heard some quiet sobs escaping through the keyhole of one door. My face fell into a frown as we passed by, and Hank paused slightly, before turning to me.

"That's Sophie Smith's room, she's homesick a lot." he whispered to me, his features showing concern. "You might have her for a class, so maybe keep an eye out if she's struggling." Hank suggested, as my heart went out for this student. I gave him a nod before we continued on our neverending journey towards my room.

Eventually, we stopped at the end of a corridor and my guide dropped my bags carefully on the wooden flooring. He twisted the door knob with one hand, and I watched as the door opened and revealed my bedroom.

"’Home sweet home’, as the saying goes." Hank uttered with a light tone. I stepped into the room and took my bags from the floor, carrying them in with me.

"It's so..." I breathed, observing the room.

"I know, we were supposed to get the curtains changed last month, but there was a mix-up and it's been dela-" he tried to explain, but I cut him off.

"Oh no! I was going to say, 'It's so perfect'." I clarified, brushing off his embarrassment at the state of the curtains (which were beautiful anyway). I stepped forward and placed my bags at the end of the bed while gazing at the beautiful room. This place was growing on me more and more with each minute that passed. 

“I’ll let you get settled in for the night then, there’s a copy of your timetable on your desk - it has all the information you’ll need for classes and etcetera.” Hank gestured to the neat pile of paper sheets on the wooden desk, “There’s always food in the kitchen, feel free to eat whenever and whatever you want.” he added, as my attention turned to my empty stomach. I will definitely be visiting the kitchen after I get settled in. 

“Thank you, for everything.” I beamed, unable to truly express my gratitude. He returned the smile and nodded, before shutting the door and returning to his business. As soon as his footsteps disappeared, I fell flat on the quilted bedsheets and sprawled out, giving out a pent up sigh. It was the kind of sigh that released anxiety and replaced it with assurance. From the looks of it, things were going to be alright - and there was nothing more satisfying that knowing you made the right decision. 

My brief escape into my feelings was cut short, as my stomach audibly warned me that it was running low on fuel. I turned my head and looked over to the beside alarm clock, reading the time; ‘8:24p.m.’

“Hmm,” I mused as I considered my options, “I should probably read you first...” my eyes drifted to the timetable that sat untouched on the desk. My belly did not agree with this decision, as it grumbled once more. “Okay, alright... yeesh.” I placed a hand against my abdomen, trying to settle the noise. “Food first, read later.” I threw my legs over the side of the bed and resolved to make my way towards the school’s kitchen. 

-------

Finding the kitchen was no problem, as the Professor showed it to me at least three times earlier. I guess he really was trying to stretch that tour out as much as possible. A few of the older students who were hanging around glanced at me as I entered the room. I couldn’t tell if they knew I was a teacher, or if they just thought I was a new student; either way, they didn’t stick around to find out. The group of teenagers grabbed their snacks and left the room once their privacy was interrupted. Honestly, I just think they were gossiping about some pop music band and didn’t want a stranger listening - so I didn’t mind their swift exit. It left me with some privacy as well, which was nice. 

I noticed a small radio sitting in the window sill, and decided to switch it on to break the silence. A static noise rang out as I extended the antenna and turned the knob carefully. Soon a voice grew clearer, and I had reached a station playing something. I just let the song play out, since I didn’t want to bother with searching the airwaves for something else. 

I stepped over to the pantry and surveyed the contents carefully. I was starving, but I couldn’t figure out what for. I picked up a loaf of bread and placed it on the counter, deciding it would have to be a PB & Jelly sandwich. Grabbing a plate, I began to craft my makeshift dinner. Absentmindedly, my head began to sway gently to the tune that played through the tinny radio speaker. It was one of those cheesy love songs that are always playing these days. There was something so catchy about those songs, and instinctively I began to mouth the words and drift into an MTV daydream. 

My brief escape from reality faded away as I noticed a clinking noise coming from the glass and cutlery. It was almost like an earthquake, but I knew that New York was unlikely to experience that kind of disaster (well I hoped so, at least).

A bright light shone outside the window, and I stepped closer to peer out. The basketball court had opened up and revealed a massive basement beneath it. A few seconds later, a black jet descended gracefully from the dark sky and lowered itself underground while the whole mansion trembled with the power it created. I swiftly grabbed the jam jar as it almost slipped off the edge of the counter, and stared in awe. 

“So that’s where they keep it...” I breathed out as the basketball court returned to its normal state, as if nothing had happened. I stood in wonder for a few seconds, still holding the jar tightly in my hands. That was probably the most of the X-Men I’d be seeing tonight. I’m no expert on presidential mission debriefing, but I presumed the team of elite heroes wouldn’t be mingling with the common folk upstairs for at least an hou-

“Ugh, this song’s a real bummer.” 

I nearly jumped out of my skin as a voice suddenly quipped from beside me. My attention hastily turned to a combat uniformed young man - quickly flicking through the radio stations. I stared at him, half confused and half terrified of his sudden appearance. Slowly I began to recognize his features; silvery hair, aloof attitude, and of course, the recognisable X-Men uniform. 

“Hey - you’re that guy...” I tilted my head slightly as I spoke without thinking. In a split second, he appeared at the fridge wearing an entirely new outfit, this time more casual. The music had changed to something more rock-y and alternative, matching his aesthetic. I was almost certain of it. I couldn’t remember his name, but I’ve definitely seen him with the X-Men on the news. I was almost certain of it.

“Nah, you’re thinking of a different guy.” he responded without second thought, while lifting out a can of some kind of soda. I felt my mouth contort in confusion, bemused by his comment. 

“I...” my thoughts paused to phrase my words correctly, “You were just wearing an X-Men uniform, you’ve got to be him.” I managed to retort, causing the confident fellow to raise an eyebrow. With the blink of an eye, he had disappeared from my sight again. 

“So, you don’t even know his name - and you’re convinced he’s me?” the silver-haired guy stated nonchalantly from behind me as he sipped on his drink. I gasped and grabbed my chest in surprise, not expecting him to sneak up behind me like that. I gave a sigh and prepared to answer the question. 

“I know, I’m sorry.” I closed my eyes and wracked my brain for a moment, “Peter, right?” I sighed, finally recalling the speedy mutant’s name. I looked up at him and expected some sort of witty remark. Instead, he just stared at me for a few seconds. I avoided his gaze awkwardly and looked down at the jam jar that still sat in my hands. Clearing my throat, I placed it carefully onto the counter beside me - trying to distract from his sudden silence. 

“Oh.” I mumbled at the change of topic, “I am. Only arrived here a few hours ago. The Professor showed me around earlier, with Hank, I saw all the classrooms and it was really quite-” I harped on, “I'm sorry, I'm rambling..." my voice lowered, as I watched the casual fellow open up a bag of pretzels and munch on them absentmindedly. He gave a soft chuckle at my apology.

“So, you’re new here?” for the third time, he appeared in a different location, leaving me to turn around one more time. He faced away from me, opening a drawer and surveying its content silently. 

"Cool." he replied simply, placing a few more pretzels into his mouth.

"Cool." I repeated gently, trying to decipher his aloofness. This 'Peter' was blunt, distant, and almost cold. It was as if I had offended him somehow. I stared at my surroundings for a brief moment, before deciding to get off of the wrong foot.

"I'm sorry if I was rude earlier; or was it that I couldn't remember your name?" I tried to find the reason for his indifference, wringing my hands with nerves. Peter raised an eyebrow and scowled slightly at my question.

"Rude?" he asked with a shocked tone.

"Yeah, I thought I offended you?" I explained.

"Nah, nah, we're good." he shrugged my theory off and zoomed over to the bin, throwing the crumpled wrapper in it. "I gotta go now, X-Men stuff." Peter turned to me and excused himself. I gave a soft 'oh' in surprise, and held out my hand for him to shake (just a teacher habit, I guess).

"Nice to meet you anyway, Peter." I smiled at him. The silvery guy just stared at my hand and then looked back up to me - but for some reason, avoided my eyes.

"Cool." he said again, before disappearing from sight; leaving me standing there, alone, holding my hand out for no one. Slowly I lowered my wrist and cleared my throat.

"Cool..." I said to myself, still entirely confused by the interaction. My attention quickly turned to the change in music. The radio suddenly shifted from the grungy tunes, back to the end of love ballad that I was listening to earlier. He must've changed it back. I tilted my head and stared at the little radio in the window, listening and thinking.

Maybe he wasn't as cold as I thought. Maybe I'll try and get a better conversation from that silver-haired boy tomorrow. Maybe I'll get that handshake from him. Maybe.

Still, the only thing that matters right now is that I eat that PB&J sandwich.

-------

[reynie-muldoons]

'The Dance of the Celestial Orb' liveblog!

for real this time lmfao

book and show spoilers below

I'm ✨nervous✨ please let our children be okay

0:10 this Sticky arc hurts me so kuch

1:35 this music is BUMPIN

2:22 I just wanna know how she got under there without the dude seeing her

2:47 "all systems go" for the Improvement.... yikes 😬😬😬

2:55 she didn't wait even 5 seconds after they left, the door was still closing when she popped up 😂 can you imagine if one of them doubled back right at that moment

3:18 they look like the dudes from that veggietales movie, I think it was Esther- the island of perpetual tickling?? Anyone??? 😂😂😂

4:00 Kate vented.......

4:51 "not a rat" yeah no shit

5:07 if not for the suspense, I would be jamming out lmaooo

6:10 Mr. Benedict is looking at the shoreline, is he about to watch Kate dive in???? Because I mean that's where she's gotta be going

6:20 "memory challenges"? Is Rhonda talking about Milligan's amnesia, or has short term memory been affected as well??

6:29 .....thank you for answering so efficiently 😂

6:42 "I buy it. I completely.... buy it." RHONDA THAT'S NOT HELPFUL AHSKSHDJKD

6:56 can you imagine seeing your friend go down in a sub then hours later seeing the sub float up in fucking PIECES

7:06 KATE! KATE! KATE! KATE!

7:06 please let it be reunion time

7:25 oh hello that's a drop

7:38 *to the tune of Bezos I* come on Katie u can do it pave the way put ur back into it

7:51 she craves that mineral

8:06 Sticky, my child

8:20 oh my gosh they went out and LOOKED FOR HER I care them 😭😭😭

8:23 SHE KNEW HIS DREAM SHE KNEW HIS DREAM TELEPATH TELEPATH TELEPATH

8:34 STICKY STOPPPP

8:40 "jumping to conclusions is a failure of character" wow that really is something Curtain would say

8:52 angry Reynie. He is in rare form

8:54 "and you helped put her there!" OOOOOOOH I SCREAMED

9:03 "I shouldn't have yelled" okay but you kinda should have Sticky needs a wake up call

9:06 "dont apologize. I like this side of you." IS THIS THE START OF REYNIE AND CONSTANCE HAVING THE BEST SIBLING RELATIONSHIP

9:22 "if you really cared about me, you'd want me to be happy instead of standing there telling me who I am" oh Sticky my dude I am NOT digging the manipulation

9:36 Reynie pulling out the BFF card!!! Also Reynie digging in his feet because he knows he's right!!!! That's great setup for his arc as a strategist later

9:48 "I'm telling you, Kate's fine." Narrator: Kate was not, in fact, fine.

10:03 "they'll notice." Sticky has made one (1) good point.

10:11 oh dear god are they fingerprinting this bitch

10:19 all this equipment, has no one walked up to the cliff and looked down???

10:23 HAHAHAHA WAIT THEY ACTUALLY HAVEN'T

10:27 "we've been out here all night" that means Kate has been clinging to a cliff by her fingers and toes ALL NIGHT????

11:04 babe I know it's been a long night but maybe wait a second for them to actually leave before you climb back up

11:15 BUCKET NO

11:22 she has to go get it. There's no way someone wouldn't find that shit, it's in plain view

11:37 "WAS"???? WHY ARE WE SAYING WAS????? NO PAST TENSE HERE MILLIGAN'S FINE

11:43 "I only wish we could've known him better" NOOOPE NONONO WE'RE NOT DOING THIS

11:47 Rhonda back at it as the voice of reason!!!!!

11:59 "I have never met a more competent swimmer" throwback to "the baaAAAYYYY"

12:10 MR. BENEDICT'S FACE HAHAHAHA HOLD ON LET ME TAKE A PICTURE IM DYING

12:11 NUMBER TWO, NOT HELPING

12:14 RHONDA'S FACE HAHENDJDKDN

12:33 "we will go rescue him" because of COURSE he would

12:36 Rhonda is his best wingwoman omfg she's so consistent

12:54 MISS PERUMAL??????

12:56 MISS PERUMAL!!!!!!

13:00 SHE KNOWS HE'S RIGHT GAKSHDBDHEKSNND

13:09 "how hard can it be? It's an island!" PFFFFT

13:16 oh SQ baby boy please get out of there

13:25 "I certainly have my own suspicions" he said, looking at SQ why are you looking at SQ like that

13:31 SQ GET OUT OF THERE PLEASE IS2G

13:36 here we fuckin go

13:43 the captions have the f in forest capitalized like it's this special place

13:43 new hc that the Forest is a magical place like pixie hollow

13:57 TWO THINGS: 1. YES stand up for yourself baby!!!! 2. Shepard Quaid? Interesting! I don't think we ever got SQ's full name in the books, I hope TLS made that decision!

14:08 your "father hat"??? Oh my gosh shut the fuck up right there don't even continue

14:16 oh yeah real fuckin cute put on your "steward of this institution hat" and call that a good reason to be a shit person

14:43 "No." GOOD FOR HIMMMM GOOD JOB SQ

15:03 Kate's struggling right by the shore where a certain someone would be returning after a very hard swim, it would be a great time for a meeting wouldn't you think

15:09 KATE THE GREAT

15:11 "THE TRAPESE GODDESS" I WILL REFER TO HER AS NOTHING ELSE

15:26 sorry but that green screen of her falling was kinda funny

15:28 soooooo is someone, a very certain someone, gonna catch her...??????

15:36 YEEEAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH

15:43 IS THIS IT????@?@?!?

15:46 awww poor baby girl you can tell how tired she is

15:46 just putting this out there- they look so good in frame together

15:46 the actor who plays Milligan is fucking huge in stature so I wasn't sure how that would go but it looks so good

16:00 THE WAY HE'S LOOKING AT HER WITH HIS HAND ON HER SHOULDER I CANT DO THISSSSS

16:20 "keep going." 😭😭😭😭😭

16:23 "you dont understand." Ohhhh I think he does

16:25 "I think I do." What did I tell you, he's got your back babygirl

16:45 I'm so glad she's talking this out, and with Milligan of all people

17:01 it makes so much sense for Kate to feel alone in that situation, and when Kate feels anything less than positive she goes and does something, whatever that something is.

17:05 "So.. I...." "fell off a cliff and nearly died." Thanks for putting things into perspective Milligan

17:05 Milligan is such a good dad stop

17:19 "most of the way" is an understatement LMFAO

17:29 I'm so glad we know the intimate details of Milligan's illustrious swimming abilities 😂 out of all the new things wfrom the show that one wasnt on my radar

17:52 leave it to Milligan to come up with an escape plan off of an island with no water vessel with four kids in tow

18:08 THEYRE SO CUTE 😭😭😭😭

18:08 lowkey I'm super surprised they didnt take this opportunity to have Milligan's arduous swim force his memories out and have the father daughter bonding time they deserve. I hope they give that moment ample time to flesh out.

18:13 BUCKET!!!

18:13 wait that shot is so artsy hold up lmfao

18:13 this looks like someone's photography final hahahaha

18:26 THE TENDER MUSIC STOPPPP 😭😭😭

18:41 Sticky is still on that jumping to conclusions bs he got from Curtain

18:44 WETHERALL'S WIDGET 😭

19:31 "Kate... she's in danger..." NO SHIT SHERLOCK

19:36 "and it's all because of me." Not just because of you but love to see you taking responsibility

19:52 once again I am asking WHY ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT THIS IN THE OPEN

20:26 "Kate. She has changed." "Not really. She's always been who she is." "Her clothes. She changed clothes." PFFFT HAHHAHA they really took a moment of self-reflection and made it so much better

20:55 AYYYYY KATE'S DEPENDENCY ARC CONTINUESSSSS

21:35 yikes yikes yikes

22:16 I love that Mr. Benedict got closure in telling Miss Perumal that her words stuck with him

22:40 the way she just knows Reynie took the position of leader 😭😭

22:54 SHE WROTE HIM A LETTERRR

23:02 "Would it be possible to get this to him?" Ma'am what part of undercover spy don't you get

23:54 it's still really weird that we are now in a position where Reynie is the one who is not trusted and Sticky is the one in Curtain's favor

24:13 and here we see Curtain's thinly veiled anger issues shining through

24:21 "the little things matter. Every minor detail, it all matters!" CALLBACK TO MR. BENEDICT TELLING THE CHILDREN THAT THEY ALL MATTER

24:55 "I can tell with complete accuracy when a person is lying." first of all, no. second of all, I cannot wait for him to talk to Constance.

26:33 why is Mr. Benedict graphically explaining the children's potential trauma so funny to me

26:40 "you're catastrophizing." "Yes. I am. Quite severely. Thank you." WHY IS THIS FUNNY

26:58 MADGE!!!!

27:16 she's so prettyyyyy

27:33 GOOD JOB MADGE!!!!!

27:36 wait did she just take the LETTER??? she's delivering the LETTER?????

28:05 WHAT DOES "OKAY FINE" MEAN??? REYNIE??????

28:22 it's sad because it's true 🥺

28:24 "I miss my teacher from the orphanage" the best lies are the ones rooted in truth 🥺🥺🥺

28:48 roll credits

29:16 Reynie honey Orion's Belt isn't on the ceiling

29:29 the way he was so confident that he had it right 😑 Curtain Stop Being a Pretentious Fuck challenge

29:52 our babygirl is so smartttt

29:55 did Milligan plant his prints 😳 oh no OH NO

29:57 MARTINA???? WHATSUEJHDKD

29:57 is this the replacement for when they pin cheating on her????

30:03 THE KEY CARD!!!!

30:11 MADGEEEE

30:21 "one attacked me as a small child" honey you are a small child

30:24 "it did not win," she said, smiling menacingly

30:40 "so we dance again" WHY DID THE MUSIC REV UP WHEN SHE SAID THAT HAHAHAHA

31:01 ✨woodworking is a passion✨

31:58 "was it functional?" "Well I guess that depends on how you define functionality" RHONDA'S FACE IN THE BACKGROUND HAHAHAHA

32:10 OH HEY MARTINA

32:17 wait 🥺

32:22 that has to be SQ :)

32:28 hi sweet boy

32:34 please tell me they did that shot of the sandwich because Madge is about to take it

32:39 LMFAOOOOO

32:44 hi good girl!!! Enjoy your snackies

32:50 oh god oh no the LETTER

33:25 oh wow we're doing this NOW??

33:52 and here we see another example of Curtain's thinly veiled anger issues bubbling to the surface

34:10 hey what if you uhhh weren't such an asshole

34:33 that man's voice is buttery

34:52 REYNIE'S TRYING TO TELL SQ????

35:02 and they're talking about this right in front of the office door, WHY??

35:24 AND THEY'RE TALKING ABOUT THIS RIGHT IN FRONT OF THE OFFICE DOOR, WHY????

35:55 he's letting him go 🥺🥺🥺🥺

36:14 why does that look like a body bag

36:17 oh my gosh it definitely is a body bag, hey Martina

36:25 yep, that's about what I expected

36:36 "whoever did this to me, they're gonna pay" oh girl do I have some bad news for you

37:12 ahhhh, so Martina is the burnt out gifted kid who keeps going out of spite and sheer force of will

37:12 everything makes much more sense now

37:30 ohhhhh my gosh feelings time

37:44 "I think it's awesome." "Yeah. I know you do." THE SHIPPERS ARE THRIVING

37:54 THEY REALLY WANT TO MAKE THIS AS PAINFUL AS POSSIBLE HUH

38:10 "it's the least I can do" that's an understatement 😬

38:14 AAWWWWW SHKSHSLSBDK

38:20 "I don't know what I'd do without you, Wetherall" STOPPPPP

38:30 HEY BUD UH MAYBE CLOSE YOUR DOOR???

38:38 he's been writing letters to her every night and now he finally gets one back 😭😭

39:34 so Miss Perumal wrote this letter with the intention of it being sent to him, right- why did she write it like that?? 😂

39:34 they've gone to such lengths to communicate in code but the letter kind of undermines that- it was written in such a way that an onlooker would know Reynie was a spy but wouldn't know what he was doing or why. No wonder SQ was pissed

39:41 KATE!!

40:10 BREAKING NEWS: local bastard man treats everyone like shit

40:15 ohhhhh SQ bud please be careful

40:30 "always have time for my son," he said in a clipped voice that implied that he does not have time for his son

40:35 ohhh he's getting RIGHT INTO IT HUH

40:41 you mean to tell me he's never asked about Mr. Curtain's work?? Ever???? Somehow that doesn't seem right to me

40:57 hey uh what if you didn't talk down to SQ at every opportunity

41:02 "would you care to reconsider that answer, son?" "No." DIG THOSE HEELS IN SQ!!!!

41:22 I'm really not digging that Curtain is using the guise of openly expressing his feelings to communicate his anger and his unasked question. Not cool bitch head

41:33 the fact that he didn't answer SQ's spoken question kind of also answers his unspoken question

41:45 "I knew there was something off about that girl. But espionage?" "How do you so convincingly fake a tetherball obsession?" I love that this entire conversation could be about Martina or Kate interchangeably

42:34 WELL THAT'S NOT GOOD

42:36 IF IT WAS THAT EASY TO FIND WITH BINOCULARS HOW HAD THEY NOT BEEN SPOTTED UP UNTIL THIS POINT?!!?#? HOW????

43:05 Kate advocating for Martina with the Society 🥺🥺 the interaction I didn't know I needed

43:58 "I definitely don't like to leave anything unfinished." "That's true, I've seen you eat." PFFFFT

44:05 YESS YOU GO STICKY USE YOUR ACCESS FOR PRIME INTEL

44:19 "well, you can't succeed without me, so..." baby girl you have no idea how right you are

44:28 please let that be Milligan PLEASE LET THAT BE MILLIGAN

44:32 YEAAAAAHHHHH

44:35 I simply adore him

44:45 "would you mind helping me down, please? I'm stuck." Your honor I would die for this man

44:54 oh shit, Martina's tryna sleuth it out herself.. this can't end well

45:04 is she about to find Kate's marbles or something?? Callback to the book?

45:26 the absolute MURDER in her eyes

45:31 FUCKIN YIKES

45:41 "the clothes of someone who had given up" ASEJDGEIDNDLFK

45:47 well that's not good

46:00 WELL THAT'S NOT GOOD

46:04 PLEASE let them be on their way already, please

46:14 THEY MADE A BLIMP????

46:17 Goodyear is QUAKING

46:35 why the fuck is Number Two in red, that's upsetting on principle

THEYRE JUST ENDING IT THERE???? goddamnit!!!!

How surreal is it that next week is the finale?? Idk if I'm ready for that????

[rayshippouuchiha]

Can I be honest?

Ao3 actually kept me from harm BECAUSE it hosted darker content that is well tagged.

Let me explain. I started my fanfiction days pretty young and in ff.net no less. I loved reading and I was curious. First thing I learned before going on the internet was from my father (the internet is not for kids, stay sharp, you going into an adult place, act like it). I was very careful but I was still curious.

So, I started small, but because of the ff.net tag mess I did get burned. A few times. Sudden violence, amputations, sex scenes (god i remember the lemon scale bs, as if i understood it in the first place) (this was before the purge). This was because all the well written fics were mostly in the M rating but had no specific tags so I had no idea if the M was for torture, cursing, or god knows what, I couldn't filter out anything.

Some of those things I still remember, they left a mark in a way, but that wasn't the writer's fault because they couldn't tag and I ignored the author note sections because most of the time it was just rambles of the author talking with the characters self-insert style or about their real life problems, how was I supposed to find a warning in that kind of mess? And that's on me.

In that period I kinda got introduced to sex, a thing that wasn't talked about around me in real life. I was already a bit older, so I read it no problem. Then got introduced to kinks and found them interesting.

That's where Ao3 comes in. I found it when looking at fic recs and saw a new internet address instead of ff.net. For me, it was the holy grail. I was still a young curious teen girl but suddenly had access to a whole library of cool shit. I read a lot of mainstream fics and switched between fandoms like a deck of cards. Then, I saw the E rating. I was interested and clicked. Clicked through the adult content warnings like a true kid lying about their age on the internet.

I saw tags galore! Now, for the first time I was, in a way, safe while exploring dark stuff. Because one fic on the same page was tagged underage (the characters were my age at the time) and was E, while a whole other E fic on the same page was graphic torture case fic and worse. And it was all tagged.

So there I went, looking at fic, going hmmm and deciding: oh that's interesting, ew no, oh that's gross, huh i wonder what that is, this sounds good, oh i love this, uhhhhh hmm should I risk it, OH HELL NO.

And that's the thing! I knew what I was reading! I could experiment with kinks and dark things in a completely safe environment of the fantasy world!

Ao3 in a way saved me from talking about these things with others and accidentaly falling into an actual predator's hands (think student/teacher dynamic, grooming), because my curiosity wasn't going away, I still would have looked sooner or later, and if it wasn't for the no-interaction interface of Ao3 (a story can't kidnap or molest you), I could have been hurt.

Like yeah, no shit, I know I'm lucky that my brain didn't get actual trauma from textual depictions of dark stuff I stumbled on in my early days, but what I did get was more valuable than the risk of trauma (also, you can't get trauma from a tag, but you could from the text that has the tag, so the reader is still the one responsible, they were warned what was inside the box and still opened it).

I got boundaries, squicks, hard no's, absolute limits, whatever people call them these days. I now know what I can deal with and what I can't. I know myself better and could now fight against a person trying to bend or break them. I read dark shit so I know what kind of emotions I get from them and in what circumstances (what I like in text pretty much never carries into real life (even the mild things like biting), surprise).

But purity police would look at my Ao3 history and scream their head off about how I'm a deviant roaming free to attack people like a rabid dog, because obviously I must secretly wish to do that in real life!

And then if they met me they would get the confusion of a lifetime! They would have this image of a sexual deviant/old as fuck creeper/freak and then see me, a 21 year old woman, a well adjusted and social individual who has NEVER and will NEVER hurt a fly, eating chips in bed and reading fucked up shit about fictional characters for entertainment.

Because that's the difference. It's not the average people reading fucked up shit that are dangerous to the public, it's the people who already were fucked in the head before reading anything. No story on this Earth can force you to commit a crime unless you already wanted to do it and were just looking for an excuse.

Case in point, the Dexter inspired murders ("it wasn't me it was the book, I am innocent, it was the evil book, as such I am not to blame, blame the author!") and the NUMEROUS video game related murders (oh no it's not the parent's fault they bought their unstable child a 18+ rated game, it's the game's/creator's fault!"

Fiction and Reality coexist and influence each other in various ways (propaganda, misinformation, stereotypes, false data), but not like this.

And do you guys know why? Because we have an instinctive moral compass, we know right from wrong, and anyone fooling themselves thinking "I would have never done that if this [media] didn't tell/force me to do it" are in fact lying. Again, they would have done it eventually or even wanted to do it already, they just found a viable excuse now, all free to use as a "get out of jail free" card.

Sorry for the long ask and for my English (non-native speaker), you can ignore this, I won't mind. Just got a bit ticked off at people blaming writers for shit they didn't do. So here is my perspective from a long time reader's point of view.

If all these works didn't make me into a monster after all this time reading, then maybe, just maybe, it's not the works' fault.

You bring up absolutely wonderful and important points darling. Thank you for sharing.

And your English is fantastic so don’t worry about it.