#a girl of a thousand faces....... bc i have given up on trying to draw her consistently

[im-smart-i-swear]

who even needs consistency anyway?

[love-loser]

cocky student tony x professor peter moved here for mobile users

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

Well, most of his students.

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

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

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

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

And that goal: To put him in his place.

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

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

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

Eloquently, he titles it, ❌ Tony Stark ❌.

1. Taller than me by an inch 1.5 cm.

2. Somehow knows my favourite breakfast from panera bread.

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

4. Wears those stupid glasses all the time.

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

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

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

8.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

After a pregnant pause, the student clears his throat.

“Do you wanna be?”

“Excuse me?”

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

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

Peter shudders.

Yuck.

-

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

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

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

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

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

-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[asteriaways]

Hogwarts AU Part 2!

Hiya my darlings! Tis me, your beloved writer, yet again.

I’m back with the second chapter of my Hogwarts AU!

I am so SHOCKED and GRATEFUL at all the support that the first chapter got! I had no idea that people would like it so much! I am truly honoured! I love writing this so much, it is so fluffy and gorgeous and overall just happy.

Also: The ending is shitty. I couldn’t figure out a way to end it without going into the plan I have for Chapter 3- yes, this is going to be a multi-chapter fanfic. Soooo… Forgive me. Please?

Also- Rose is based off my bestie @avilliansdream

I LOVE YOU BITCH (I’m sorry I made your character shitty)

Also: This is set in a sort of in-between era, where Dumbledore is still around and everyone is alive and happy but we don’t see Harry and crew bc… They are too angsty for this story and I want this to be happy and cheering and god that doesn’t make sense.

Warnings: Swearing. Tired Brian. Sass level 100%. No-fucks-given by Freddie. Basically just fluff!

Word count: 1266 words

Enjoy, my darlings! Please like, reblog, and send me feedback

Let me know if you want to be on my taglist!

Brian sighed, resting his chin on his hand as he stared at the looming blackboard, sporting numerous sums across its black finish. He felt hi­­s eyes flutter shut, the hours of sleep he had lost catching up with him. He had stayed up late that night, accompanied by his endless Astronomy textbooks and the silence of the common room, disturbed only by the flickering of the firelight and Melody’s soft snores from where she had dropped off 15 minutes before. He had debated telling her about John’s crush on her during their late night talks, but had decided against it.

‘Brian! Brian! Brian May!’ A voice called, pulling him back to reality.

‘Hmm? Yes?’ he asked, looking up through sleep-riddled eyes, dazed.

‘Sleeping in class, Mr May?’ McGonagall huffed, her eyes scanning his tired face from behind her glasses.

His eyes widened as he realised the gravity of his situation.

‘Um, no, miss!’ He spluttered. He looked next to him, seeing Roger trying to stifle a laugh- and failing. Melody shot him a pitying look, mouthing ‘Sorry!’ from her seat at the back of the room.

‘Is there something you want to add, Mr Taylor?’ the teacher snapped at Roger, who immediately shut up.

‘Detention, Mr May!’ she said, scowling.

‘But, miss!’ he feebly protested.

‘As I was saying, in this spell you must be careful….’ She said, walking back to the front of the classroom. Brian let his forehead slam onto the wooden desk, groaning loudly. How could he get a detention? He never got detentions!

‘Sorry, mate.’ Roger whispered, dipping his quill into the inkwell. ‘Maybe you should try and get some sleep. You’re overwhelming yourself, man.’

‘Shuddup, Rog.’ Brian mumbled from behind his curtain of curls. Roger shrugged, sultrily winking at a girl across the room. He reluctantly sat up, yanking his paper away from Roger.

‘Stop flirting and pay attention, Rog.’

‘I’m not flirting, I’m wooing. Besides, how can I help the fact that girls love me?’

Brian rolled his eyes, blowing a stray lock of hair out of his eyes.

Detention. What fun.

‘Detention, darling? That’s a new one.’ Freddie remarked as he leant against the stone wall in the sunny courtyard, unbuttoning his Slytherin tie and wrapping it around his wrist. Brian rolled his eyes, exchanging pointed glances with John, who was sitting on the stone bench, his robes discarded and his shirt slightly unbuttoned, soaking up the sunshine. John shrugged, letting his head fall back.

‘I’m just saying, darling, you need to loosen up. Maybe detention will do you some good.’

‘No, no it won’t, Fred!’

‘I disagree.’

‘Are you sure that’s the dress code, Fred?’ John interjected, gesturing to Freddie’s outfit- a complete mismatch of his Hogwarts uniform.

He’d ditched the sweater, leaving his chest only covered by his mostly unbuttoned white shirt. He’d wrapped his tie around his pants, deciding that if it was on his wrist it looked ‘too emo’. He’d also rolled up his pants, adorning them with colourful safety pins.

‘Course not, Deaky. But they can’t stop me, can they?’

‘They actually can, Fred.’ Deaky deadpanned.

‘Don’t kill the vibe, darling.’

‘Anyway! We were discussing poor Bri’s predicament.’ Roger interrupted from where he was lying in the sunlight, shirt open to expose his torso, drawing many looks and giggles from nearby girls- much to his amusement.

‘Just do the detention, Bri. They’ll just make you write lines or something. No biggie.’ Deaky kindly reassured.

‘Speaking from experience, Deaks?’ Roger asked, laughing.

‘Oh, is our Deaky actually a bad boy?’ Freddie giggled, adjusting his makeshift ‘belt’.

Deaky, in fact, had had multiple detentions, mainly for saying things that ‘should never even cross your mind’ to the people he hated. He was known as ‘Silvertongue’ to many students and teachers. If there was one thing you didn’t want to be, it was on John Deacon’s bad side.

‘Guys! Helllllloooooo!’ someone called, bouncing up to them.

‘Rose! Darling, it’s been too long!’ Freddie cheered, running to embrace the crazy girl who had just strutted in.

‘Freddie, you saw me an hour ago!’ she chided.

He ruffled her midnight-black hair, shorn into a spiky pixie cut. She huffed, puffing her lips and cheeks out dramatically.

‘Freddie! Must say, love the outfit.’

‘HA! See, Deaks, it IS good!’

‘I never said it wasn’t good, Fred. I just said it wouldn’t ring well with the teachers.’ John sighed, resisting the urge to slam his head into a brick wall.

‘Well, fuck them. Don’t you like it, darling?’ He asked Rose, twirling around.

‘I love it! It’s extravagant, daring…..’ Rose paused to think. ‘It just needs a bit of Mercury.’

‘Mercury?’

‘Mercury.’ She confirmed, raising an eyebrow.

‘Mercury?’ Roger asked, baffled.

‘Mercury, Rog.’ She confirmed, pulling a tube of eyeliner out of the pocket of her Gryffindor robe.

She grabbed Freddie’s face in her hands, commanding him to ‘stay still’. She quickly swiped the ink-black wand across his eyelids, conjuring an air of mystery about him. She popped the tube back in her pocket, clapping her hands gleefully.

‘Boom! Mercury!’ she declared, her brown eyes glinting under a coat of thick mascara.

‘Mercury, my dear!’ he laughed, spinning around.

Brian grinned at the sight of his best friend spinning around the courtyard, his robes flying out behind him like a cape, sunshine radiating like a crown above his head.

Rose collapsed on the ground next to Roger, giggling hysterically. Roger started laughing too, and soon Brian and Deaky joined in, the pure, unbridled happiness rippling through the air.

Brian smiled, feeling his cheek muscles hurt from laughing too much. Rose looked up and stuck her tongue out at him, crossing her eyes and puffing her cheeks out. That sent John into hysterics, snorting as his chest heaved with laughter, the oh-so-contagious laughter that sounded like the chime of a thousand different melodies all rolled into one.

Freddie kept on dancing, ignoring the stares from the other students as he glided across the sun-baked bricks, a silhouette against the blinding rays of light.

Brian flicked his hair out of his face, exchanging a gleeful smile with Deaky.

It was times like these when he was reminded of how lucky he was. Sitting here, in the sunlight with his best friends (and one added human) he was full.

This was what paradise felt like.

@onceuponadetectivedemigod @shesadramaqueen @ceruleanrainblues @sophieeelol @avilliansdream @yllwtaxi

[love-loser]

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

16. professor peter x cocky student tony 

SORRY OMG THIS IS SO LONG jkhddh thank you for the ask! i didnt know how to combine 2 and 16 so i just wrote 16, but someone else asked for 2 so fear not, you will be getting it. hope you enjoy <333 

prompts here 

MOBILE USERS READ HERE PLS!! 

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

Well, most of his students.

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

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

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

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

And that goal: To put him in his place.

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

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

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

Eloquently, he titles it, ❌ Tony Stark ❌.

1. Taller than me by an inch 1.5 cm.

2. Somehow knows my favourite breakfast from panera bread.

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

4. Wears those stupid glasses all the time.

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

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

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

8.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

After a pregnant pause, the student clears his throat. 

“Do you wanna be?”

“Excuse me?”

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

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

Peter shudders.

Yuck.

-

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

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

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

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

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

-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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