#i read romeo and juliet for english class a few years back so i know the plot and how far this is but i was writing this as i thought it lo

[lilylovelle]

romeo and juliet but instead of feuding families it's guy on the outskirts of the popular group and some unknown weird girl but instead of both dying they just fall into awkward silence after a week or flirting because he's insecure and afraid to be vulnerable or show softer feelings because he really wants to fit in with the other guys he envies and she has major trust issues and while she can read him like a book she is a chronic self-doubter and overthinker

[gwenllian-in-the-abbey]

As a teacher, what has been your fave shakespere play to teach your students? What interesting themes do the kids these days pick up on or connect with? Has there been any interesting insights your students have brought that have surprised you?

Thanks for the question! So I haven't taught English since before the pandemic, because I finally found a school that doesn't reserve the history classes for the coaches (this kept happening to me when I moved back to the States, I'm dual certified, so I'd get hired for history and they'd move me to English when they hired a coach. This happened like 3 times), which is great for me, I vastly prefer teaching history. But did teach a lot of English previously and I'd say the answer really depends on the group of kids, their reading level, how much they'd been exposed to previously.

There's a reason high schools usually start off with Romeo and Juliet in the 9th grade. The story is not difficult to follow, most teenagers are familiar with the concept of forbidden romance, and the themes are age appropriate. I've taught King Lear, which is one of my personal favorites, to a group of very advanced and very keen 12th graders (so 17-18 years old), and I think even they were too young and lacking the life experience to really get it (it's kind of unfortunate that by the time King Lear hits hardest, which imo is once your own parents start aging, most of us are not reading Shakespeare anymore. Very few people read it outside of a school setting, nerds on tumblr notwithstanding). So it can be objectively more rewarding to teach a relatively basic play like Romeo and Juliet, than to teach a more advanced play like King Lear, even though I like King Lear better, simply because it's more suited to the age group.

But probably my favorite play to teach is Hamlet, which I've taught in both 11th and 12th grade. Hamlet is a broody young man, he's home from university and his life sucks, his asshole uncle has married his mom, he's pretty sure his dad was murdered, his girlfriend literally kills herself, there's a ghost, and no one is listening to him. It strikes a good balance in that it has some great soliloquys, including the famous "to be or not to be," that you can really dig into, but which don't get too far into the weeds and don't require a whole history lesson to understand. There are allusions, but they're mostly mythology based (like Niobe, all tears, Hyperion to a satyr) which makes them easy for the kids to look up. Importantly, it asks age appropriate existential questions about life and death (what's the point in living when you're miserable, is suffering noble, what if death is not better), stuff that teenagers grapple with. Macbeth is also good to teach because it's quite exciting with all of the murder, betrayal, and of course the witches.

It's been four years since I last taught English so it's hard for me to remember any specific insights from the kids at the moment but I will say that in general, one of my favorite lessons to teach each year in the Shakespeare unit was on the use of language. The kids fucking loved learning iambic pentameter. One of my favorite things to do was write a couple of lines on the board (I usually used two lines from Julius Caesar which were the same lines my own English teacher used to teach us when I was in school Poor man! I know he would not be a wolf/But that he sees the Romans are but sheep) and get them to beat out the meter on their desks. They thought it was so cool that iambic meter has the same rhythm as the human heart, and that it is more or less the natural rhythm of our speech. When we'd read the plays, I'd catch them tapping out the meter to themselves to test it out.

In general, I enjoyed teaching Shakespeare, but it was also a struggle. It's very hard to get kids who, for the most part, do not read for pleasure to read a whole play in early modern English. Mostly their reading consists of short passages as part of standardized testing, and they're very resistant to the very idea of Shakespeare, which they write off as old and boring. As a teacher I had to work very hard to make the text engaging enough to push past that wall and while there are always kids who are just not going to get there, every year I taught Shakespeare I was always pleasantly surprised by how many kids would get fully invested. I guess it's just fun when the kids are actually into the story. The themes are great and all, but Shakespeare wrote these plays to be entertaining and it makes me really happy when the kids are entertained by them.

[yours-etc]

Pancakes For Dinner

Short little ficlet based on this song <3

Pt. 1, Pt. 2 (coming soon)

————————————

Eddie is pacing his living room back and forth back and forth back and forth back and—

“Dude will you sit down you’re making yourself more stressed!!” Chrissy yells at him from their couch. 

“I don’t know what’s wrong with me Chris, I'm a writer this is what I do! So why is it so fucking hard to write a best man speech for my best friend, besides you of course Chris” Eddie adds to the end in quickly to cover his ass. 

“probably because you’ve been in love with him since high school eds! And you need to tell him, because if you don’t he will marry that stupid rich bitch his mommy set him up with who he’s only marrying to make her happy and because he thinks he has no shot with you! And somewhere down the line probably 6-10 years in they’ll get a terrible divorce and he’ll have an early midlife crisis and buy a boat or a condo in Florida. he’s settling and he knows it and you are ignoring it.” 

Eddie stops in his tracks and looks at Chrissy. they grew up together, practically siblings. eddie’s mom nannied for her family and eventually, Eddie was born and so was Chrissy. Raised together like siblings as Chrissy was the youngest of 3 sisters who were all moved out by the time Chris could walk. she has been here through every broken bone (4), every school play (6), a gay crisis, and one big fat crush on his guy best friend.

Steve and Eddie meet in freshman year English class. well, not Eddie’s freshman year, Steve’s. Eddie was two years older than Steve and so ended up being his English tutor to get extra credit in his own lit class. Eddie was smart, he just hated school. And yeah he repeated senior year twice making him and Steve graduate at the same time, but they both got the same degree in the end. 

“I just don’t get it!” Steve would yell about Romeo and Juliet and Huckleberry Finn and Frankenstein and Dracula and pretty much any book he had to read…

Eddie would always smile and say “Don't worry steve-o, that’s what I'm here for”

Eventually tutor sessions turned into to hang out sessions turned into smoke sessions turned into crashing on one another’s couch. and yeah they’ve woken up a few times in… not totally platonic positions, but they were high and half asleep, no one could be blamed, so they didn’t talk about it. but Eddie and Chrissy did. 

“Chris he doesn’t like me like that!” Eddie finally says responding to her. 

“Bullshit! If he’s not in love with you then Robin and I are a straight couple!”

“That doesn’t make sense—“

“Shut up it doesn’t matter. how about you write two speeches. one where you pore you’re heart and soul out to him declaring your undying gay love, and then write the one that’s appropriate to say at his wedding. I would say just tell him now, but you know it’s your life, all I know is you need to get it off your chest one way or another.”

She was right. Eddie kissed her on the head and walked to his room and locked the door. 

————————————

Eddie didn’t even make it two steps into the bar before Lucas, Dustin, Mike, and Will, some kids Steve started babysitting in high school to make some extra cash who grew up to be both of their favorite gaggle of kids, cornered him by the door. 

“so what are you going to do?” Dustin asks

Eddie looked at all four of them, “I plan to get him shitfaced, hold his hair back when he eventually throws it all up, and have the perfect hangover cure for him waiting in the morning so he can… make it down the aisle.” 

Mike rolls his eyes, “You know that’s not what we are talking about.”

“We are talking about you stopping Steve from marrying the Richie Bitch!” will whisper yells. 

The envelope in Eddie’s coat pocket suddenly weighs about 100 tons. He didn’t know why he brought it. The letter is about three pages long with lots of chicken scratch and eraser marks, but it’s all of Eddie on paper. And maybe he’ll give it to Steve, maybe he won’t. He hadn’t quite decided yet. “What makes you think I can stop him?” Eddie asks. 

“Because you’re the only one he listens to, besides Robin, but even she’s getting desperate!” Lucas pipes in. 

“Guys, I’ve tried, We’ve all tried. He’s not budging, all we can do is be there for him through all of it. Eventually, it will crash and burn but until then, we put on fake ass smiles and we are happy for him.” Eddie says addressing all of them, “Now I’m going to grab a table, order a round of drinks, and I expect all of you to just focus on making Steve’s party the best part it possibly could be.”

He shoved past them to grab a booth, set his jacket down, and went to the bar. And yeah he downed a couple, maybe a few, okay a handful of shots, for confidence, that's all. The longer he sat there the more he wanted to pull his hair out individually by each strand. He knew he couldn’t let Steve go through with it, but he didn’t want to lose Steve completely, because that would break him. Like completely and totally shatter him into a million pieces that would get scattered into the wind. And yes, Eddie was aware of how cliche he was starting to sound. 

Eventually, he made it back to the table with a round of drinks for everyone, Steve walked in looking, well looking gorgeous. It’s like that moment in the movies where the whole room disappears and it is just the two main characters. There’s a love song playing, except this is a crowded dive bar and they are playing some Zeppelin song that Eddie can’t take the time to name because Steve walks in with too tight a shirt and too tight pants and Eddie is only a man. 

And suddenly the envelope in his pocket is not only 100 tons but also on fire.

————————————

Pt.2 coming soon...

[motownfiction]

school bag

Sam’s school bag doesn’t look like Sadie’s.

Mom evaluates them everyday on the first day of school, even now that they’re going into their senior year. Sam wants to roll his eyes. You’d think with their eighteenth birthday looming, with their married best friends down a few streets, and their general trustworthiness, she wouldn’t have to inspect them like this. But she does it, anyway. Amazing what a little power trip can do for you.

Every year, it’s pretty much the same. Sadie packs all the books she needs for all of her classes that day, a plastic water bottle, and an apple in case she gets hungry at her locker. She’s perfect. She’s perfect, and Mom gives her a pat on the head to tell her so, sometimes literally.

Sam’s school bag does not tell the same story.

He hasn’t figured out how to get his textbooks yet. He usually borrows from Will or Daniel, whichever one he isn’t in class with during that period. Instead, Sam carries his subjects differently.

English is Dire Straits, Making Movies. No better understanding of Romeo and Juliet.

Math is The Exciting Wilson Pickett. No numbers more important than “634-5789.” Jenny and Tommy Tutone can both eat it!

Science is Sam Cooke, The Man Who Invented Soul. He might not know much about biology, but he knows enough. So does Sam. Just ask Steph.

He has the nerve to say that last one out loud in front of his mother. He deserves the daggers she’s staring at him now, but they are so sweetly worth it.

“I don’t know why you won’t just take your education seriously,” Mom sighs, still rifling through Sam’s school bag. “After that meeting with the professor in Ohio, who said you had more potential than some of her senior students … I don’t know why you wouldn’t take that to heart.”

“I tried to take it to heart, but I think I have a murmur,” Sam says.

Mom rolls her eyes. Typical. Even when he’s funny, it’s wrong. She pulls out the only book in Sam’s bag and shakes her head at it.

“And what’s this?” she asks, holding up his copy of Things Fall Apart. “I know this isn’t one of the required books for your English class this year.”

“No, it’s not,” Sam says. “You know my system.”

Mom scoffs a little.

“How could I forget?” she asks. “You do all the reading a year in advance, which actually puts you behind the other students, who are reading it fresh.”

“That’s how it seems to you. Anyway, I’m still getting a head start. I talked to Lucy’s mom, and she said she likes to assign this in freshman lit courses. Like college.”

Mom’s eyes light up a little bit.

“Is this your way of telling me you’re going to college?” she asks, too much hope in her voice.

But Sam just shrugs.

“It’s my way of saying I’m interested in what they read,” he says. “I’m less interested in shelling out all that money for classes when I can just walk into a library and read for free.”

Mom probably doesn’t need to look that devastated, but she can’t help herself. Sam understands that by now.

“All your potential,” she mutters. “All your potential, stuck in between cardboard and vinyl.”

Sam grins from ear to ear, and only part of him really means to smile.

“I know,” he says. “Isn’t it great?”

(part of @nosebleedclub september challenge -- day v! yes, i am a week behind. this is what happens when i go back to work)

[achaiapelides]

Kit's Diary

Chapter 3

Dear Ty,

I enrolled in a school today. Tessa and Jem suggested that it would be good for me to get in contact with some mundanes in our area, so I could find some new friends. I actually didn't want to, but they seemed to think that this was a good idea and were so happy, so I didn't want to disappoint them and agreed. It's a pretty big school, because all the kids in the area go there. I had some problems finding all the rooms first, but I guess I'll get a hang of it eventually. I had to elect advanced courses. Tessa told me history is quite interesting, English too. She knows this because she apparently attended the school a few years ago because she got bored, as you do as an immortal warlock.

First I got my timetable and a tour of the school with Tessa and Jem by the secretary, an older, very strict looking lady, but she was actually not that bad. She looked at my hand weirdly though, as if she could see my rune, Tessa assumes she probably is a mundane with sight. Afterwards I had my first class. Obviously maths. Ugh. But the teacher, a young man about 25, is very nice and actually managed to make me understand the stuff he explained. He even uses some new technology called IPad and beamer and made videos for us to watch at home so we can understand the topic better.

Since I know you're interested in that and Livvy is probably too, I'm going to explain it to you now. An IPad is a bit like a computer but you can, like on your smartphone, touch the screen so you don't need a mouse. But it's bigger than a phone, so you can write on it too if you have a pen that is connected to it. I don't quite understand how this works, I'm bad at physics and electronics okay? But I'm sure you can find that out by yourself if you want. A beamer is a device that you can connect to your IPad and project the thing you see on its screen onto a wall with light, like in a cinema.

So maths wasn't actually that bad. The only problem was a girl in my class, I think her name is Leo, who looked at me really weird, but not the same way as the secretary. She probably has the sight too and can see my runes. I fear she might ask me about it, so I guess I have to come up with some story, how I got them. I'm going to ask Jem and Tessa later.

After two hours of math, where I surprisingly did not die of boredom, I had history. They talked about Henry VIII, you know, the English King with the many wives. The teacher, Mrs. Addams is pretty strict, but still quite a good teacher. You have to imagine her a bit like a young Professor McGonagall from Harry Potter. If you don't know Harry Potter, you should read the books immediately, there's pretty good, even though the author is a bitch. But back to history: It was also quite interesting, especially the history of Henry's wives. Especially Anne Boleyn and Catherine Parr are very interesting.

Afterwards we had English with the same teacher. Apparently she kind of connected both subjects because we're reading Shakespeare in English class. She decided that we're going to read different works of him in groups. My group consists mostly of girls, who of course chose "Romeo and Juliet". I'm kind of bummed because Shakespeare has so much more interesting works but, I mean who can blame them, when Leonardo Di Caprio plays Romeo in the movie.

There is another boy in my group, his name is Sam. He has light brown skin, dark brown hair and is definitely straight. Not that he said that, my gaydar is just like "nope, don't even try". He does look a bit like a male Livvy, but more tanned. Quite attractive, but not my type... that's you. (Ok Kit, stop simping about Ty, you were writing about school!) Leo is also in my group. She does look a bit like Hazel, but white, blonde and definitely not a werewolf. But they kind of have the same face. Maybe they're related or something. She was eyeing me the whole time though. But not like a "fuck me"-stare, more like a "you're very different and interesting"-stare. Kind of the way you're looking at animals you find interesting. Okay, she will definitely ask me about the runes sooner or later. I really should come up with a story for that.

After English, my day was over and I walked home. Yes walked. The school is really close to Cirenworth. I told Tessa and Jem about my day and when I mentioned Shakespeare; Tessa jumped up and ran up the stairs, only to come back a few minutes with really old editions of his books. She told me, that Will, her late husband from the 19th century, bought them for her on her 21st birthday. Both she and Will and their children read them, maybe their daughter and son in law, too. Afterwards they stayed in Cirenworth, which was her daughter-in-law’s home, until today. There are even notes from all the people who read them in there. Tessa even allowed me to bring them to school for our next English class. Also they wanted me to invite Sam and Leo over because "you need some friends". I promised I would ask them. Mina was also very interested in the old books, and even though she can't read, she flipped through the pages very carefully and looked quite pleased. It was sooo cute.

I wish you could meet Mina. I just know you would love her. She's so interested in the little things that easily get overlooked, just like you. Speaking of you, I wasn't as sad about us today. In fact I was the happiest I've been in a long time. I still think about you almost every time something happened, but it doesn't hurt that much anymore. Maybe I'm starting to heal. Maybe one day I can meet you again without breaking into pieces. (Did you understand that expression? It's what it feels like when you see something that triggers your sadness and it gets so overwhelming that you literally feel the same pain as if you were breaking into pieces.) And look at that. I just noticed it but I even write as if you'd actually read those diary entries. But you won't. At least not now. But I always hope that someday we will see each other again. And that we maybe can understand why we did the stuff we did and forgive each other. Even if it will take a long time, today was the first time I actually believed in it. That maybe, just maybe, you completely misunderstood me and actually love me as much as I love you. (Okay. Stop it Kit! You're simping again... you gotta let a man dream though.)

For real though, I love you still, and I always will

Always yours,

Kit

Happy December 12th, everyone!

[lorbanery]

I went to two different private schools, one K-8 and one high school, and we had summer reading in both, they just handled them differently.

In the K-8 school, we didn't actually start summer reading until what was considered middle school in that area, 6-8th grades. There we had a list of maybe thirty or so books that they had us choose one or two from; we were allowed to choose a book that wasn't on the list, we just had to get approval from the teacher at first (it was a small school, we had one teacher for each class all three years). Since everyone would mostly be reading completely different books, the test to make sure we'd read and understood our books was just writing a book report.

In high school, we had specifically assigned books. I don't know if they changed it later, but my Freshman year they assigned us 4 books and I was SO nervous heading into the school year because I hadn't finished one of them. I was, of course, one of the kids who read all the time, I genuinely enjoyed the reading we did in class up to that point. And, like, it helped that, all things considered? My "middle school" English teacher had a knack for picking out reading that a bunch of preteens in the '90s would find interesting. She found a decent modernization of Romeo & Juliet (even if she definitely subscribed to the "what you don't understand was that this was considered romantic Back Then" thought process); The Outsiders which, let's be real, would be right at home as an angsty, melodramatic CW show (we even got to watch the movie in class); we even read the novelization of Free Willy (the movie had only come out a few years before and was a favorite of pretty much every kid at the time).

Anyway my point is that I never finished reading one of the books on my Freshman year reading list and I had never not finished a book before. Even books I didn't really like I'd been able to push my way through them. But I just couldn't do it with this one and I was terrified of failing everything that had to do with it when I finally got into English class that year.

But when I did, I found out that actually? The normal reading list is only 3 books. The 4th book is for the kids in the honors track, taking all honors classes, which I was definitely not. And guess which book on the list was the one that was assigned for the honors track only?

I don't know why they did it, because for every other year they specified which books were the normal reading list, and which book was the additional 4th for the honors track. All I know was that they caused me a bunch of stress going into a brand new school, my first year of high school, and they didn't have to, and I've never quite forgiven them for it.

But, then again, it did give me the confidence to not finish one of the assigned books for Senior year. I got like a third of the way through it and I just was not vibing with the writing style and I was just like, you know what? Fuck it. I survived not finishing the last one, I'll survive not finishing this one. And I never did.

Please reblog because I would love a wide pool of answers

[athena-writes-i-guess]

Hi, could you please do 7. "Could I sit here? All the other tables are full." Maybe with Eddie saying it? Thanks!

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Reader

Prompt: “Could I sit here? All the other tables are full.”

A/N: Hello friend! This was so much fun to write. I wasn’t expecting what came out but I really like it and I hope you will to! Also it’s a longer one, hope that’s okay!

Eddie walked into the quiet Hawkins High library during his lunch period, looking for a place to work on his English essay before it was due tomorrow. He normally wouldn’t worry too much about it, but he was really trying to graduate this year. He looked through the tables, all full for some reason today. He spied one table that only had one occupant and his heart sped up seeing that it was you.

Eddie had been crushing on you since you met at the beginning of the year. He thought you were gorgeous and so smart, though he had only gotten a chance to talk to you a few times. He had never been able to find you during breaks to actually talk to you outside of the English class you had together and now he knew why, you were here in the library. He walked up to the table a little awkwardly before clearing his throat lightly to try to get your attention.

“That thus whatever grief might lie in wait, the fates of Beren and Luthien might be joined, and their paths lead together beyond the confines of the world.” You read, your heart clenching at the romance of the story you just consumed. You always thought that J. R. R. Tolkien was wonderful at writing fantasy romance, and this story proved it. You looked up at the sound of someone clearing their throat and found Eddie standing there, his little black lunchbox, a small book, and a notebook in his hands. You felt your mouth go dry suddenly as your nerves got to you. You had liked Eddie from afar for years, long before you had a class with him. And now here he was standing in front of you, asking you something? His mouth was moving but you were distracted momentarily and missed it.

“I’m sorry, could you repeat that?” You asked quietly.

Eddie smiled at that before repeating, “Could I sit here? All the other tables are full.” He gestured to the empty seat opposite you.

You felt your face heat up a little in embarrassment before nodding your head. “Yeah, no problem!” You chirped with a soft smile, one that made Eddie’s heart flutter in his chest and his stomach do a flip.

He sat across from you and set down his items before opening his notebook and pulling out a pencil to start writing. He looked at his blank page and tapped his pencil against it as he thought. Romeo and Juliet, what to write about that? Two teenagers meet and ruin their lives over the course of 4 days and this would be his third time having to write an essay about it. He sighed, a little frustrated, before looking up at you as you read from your book. He looked at it, noticing that it wasn’t the Romeo and Juliet book you had the essay on.

“What are you reading?“ He asked softly, he felt momentarily stunned by the way you looked up at him, the color of your eyes dazzling him. He took in your soft smile and the way you seemed to flush nervously and felt that flutter again.

“Oh it’s the Silmarillion.” You chuckled as Eddie cocked his head to the side, surprised.

“You’re reading the Silmarillion?” He asked, biting his lip briefly to keep back the giant smile that wanted to pull at his lips. You were a fantasy nerd like him. “Even I couldn’t do that, it’s so dense.” He watched your smile widen, knowing he had never seen such a beautiful sight before.

“Oh it is, there’s a reason they refer to this as the Lord of the Rings bible.” You laughed lightly, it sounded like sweet music to Eddie’s ears.

“Did you already finish the Romeo and Juliet essay, that’s why you're reading that?” He inquired curiously, fidgeting with the rings on his left hand. He watched as you bit back a smile and shook your head.

“No, I’ve barely started it. It’s so boring compared to other love stories.” You started, “Two stupid teenagers fall in love immediately and not only ruin their lives but get a bunch of people killed in the process, to what? Just die themselves? I understand why we read it, but there are better stories out there.” You whispered quickly. Eddie smiled brightly at the passion behind your words, you were so cute when you talked animatedly like that.

“What love story do you think is better?” He asked, leaning on his elbow closer to you, you mirrored him, a big smile on your face as you pointed to your book.

“There’s one in there that’s probably one of the best love stories I’ve ever read.” You gushed, excited that you would get to talk about it.

Eddie nodded in encouragement, wanting you to tell him about it. “We’ll go on, gorgeous, I’d love to hear about it.” His smile widened when you flushed and beamed at his words.

“Well, it’s the story of Beren and Luthien. He was one of the humans, a very brave one, and she’s an elf, the most beautiful in all the land, they fell in love. He even calls her ‘Tinuviel’, meaning nightingale in elvish. He wanted to marry her, but her father made an impossible task for him to complete as he didn’t want a mortal man marrying his daughter. But he knew she wanted to marry Beren so he made the task, Beren was sent to get a Silmaril, a really magical and very important gem, from the crown of Morgoth, Sauron from the Lord of the Rings’s leader basically.” You began excitedly.

Eddie was enraptured by you and the way you were so passionate about this story. He watched your expressions; the softness of your eyes as you talked about their love for each other, the wide pull of your plush lips as you smiled as you spoke, the way you would furrow your brow when you were trying to remember a detail you felt was important to the story. Shit. He was obsessed. He could listen to you talk for hours.

“Eventually, with the help of Luthien, they’re able to get the stone. But getting it, Beren died. Luthien's soul left her body as she died from grief, following his and she begged the gods of the world to bring them back together. And they were granted that, but she would have to give up her immortality, which she did happily to be with her love. Leading to a beautiful parallel with Aragorn and Arwen in Lord of the Rings. They have children, they’re actually the grandparents of Elrond, which is why he and his children can choose between immortality or not. It’s beautiful.” You finished, your mouth dry from how much you had said so quickly.

You looked at Eddie, you actually hadn’t been able to stop looking at him the entire time. No one had ever listened to you so intently before. You felt seen. Heard. The two of you had your eyes locked, unable to look away from each other. You watched Eddie bite his lip as he smiled. “Sorry, I guess I went on for awhile there.” You said, feeling the heat come to your face.

“Don’t say sorry, I loved that. I could listen to you talk all day, Tinuviel.” He said, shooting you a cheeky smile as you flushed again. “Wanna tell me more stories outta that thing over dinner tonight? We can go to the diner. If you want.” He said hopefully.

He watched the biggest smile he had ever seen from you appear on your face and his heart sped up again, how could he keep getting you to look at him like that? “I’d love to, Eddie.” You said happily. Fuck, he was a goner.

A/N: I imagine the gif is what Eddie looks like as you talk. ❤️

Taglist: @srapalestina

@yvonneeeee

@cityofidek

@anaisweird

@mayahawkewife

[homiesexual-or-homosexual]

More Eddie w/ bass guitar! gf

Pairing: Eddie Munson x reader

Genre: fluff ❤️

Warnings: continuation of this, mentions of grooming but it’s lighthearted jokingness about Romeo and Juliet

———

After just a few months in Hawkins High, you notice differences from your other school. Hawkins wasn’t too big on football, more so basketball. So your big pep rally’s were for basketball. But you weren’t too big on sports so it didn’t matter much to you.

And you also noticed that Eddie seemed to have a reputation around here. Eddie “The Freak” Munson, people called him. He was known for his little outbursts and his “Satanic Cult.” And that he was held back two years, from continually failed classes.

How’d you find this out? From the little group of cheerleaders that decided to adopt you during lunch. Which came along with the varsity basketball players. Not your favorite group of people, but at least they stayed away from the forest bordering the left side of the school.

“That’s where Eddie and his group of freaks sacrifice people to Satan.”

“I heard they crucify their victims and then burn them.”

“That’s the Salem Witch Trials,” You’d told the group.

“Oh yeah..,” One of the dumber of the cheerleaders mumbled.

So that’s where your third, one on one, encounter with Eddie was. In the woods by the school.

You’d found the benches and started going out there for lunch when the cheerleaders were busy with whatever they do. And that’s where Eddie found you today, nose in a different book and munching on some orange slices.

“Whatcha doin’ out here alone, princes?”

You whipped around towards the voice, an angry “who the fuck is talking to me like that” look on your face. But you calmed once you realized it was just your long, curly haired companion, or a man that was slowly becoming your companion.

“Woah,” Eddie held his hands up, showing no harm.

“Oh, it’s just you,” You put your bookmark in your book and set it on the table. “I’m just reading and eating my oranges.”

Eddie hummed, sitting across from you and stealing an orange slice.

From greeting, your conversation delved into academics and how school was going. For Eddie, not too well. From the whispers and rumors spreading in classrooms, Eddie wasn’t doing too hot in english.

You offered to tutor, either in the school during free periods or lunch, or at his house. And Eddie took your offer, but it took some convincing that you’re doing it just because.

Which let you two grow closer. And your senior class noticed, as well as the teachers. You helped Eddie during english, quietly explaining things to him that he didn’t understand. And when you had a book assignment, you’d read it together. Which leads you to now, in Eddie’s trailer way past your bedtime for a school night. But you left your parents a note, so it was okay.

“Did you know,” You started, writing down something in your english notebook as you sat on Eddie’s floor. “That Romeo and Juliet’s little relationship lasted only three days.”

“Three days??” Eddie looked at you, B.C. Rich electric guitar in his arms, which was hooked up to his plugged in amp, quiet tunes spilled from the amp.

“There’s so much that happens in such little time, and to readers, it seems like it happens over a longer period of time,” You tell him. “Did you also know that Juliet was 13, and Romeo was 16?”

“What??? That’s like..”

“A sophomore dating a middle schooler. That’s also grooming,” You looked up at Eddie. “How old are you?”

“20.”

“You’re not grooming me, are you?” You smiled innocently up at your companion.

All Eddie responded in was flicking a medium pick your way, hitting you in the forehead before grabbing another from his bedside table and continuing his little ditty.

You only hummed, picking the pick up and sticking it between your teeth as you picked up the small book of Romeo and Juliet, reading ahead.

It was a bit before you felt eyes on your form, “What?”

“Your posture is horrible,” Eddie told you.

You looked up at Eddie, eyeing his posture, “Says you.”

Eddie straightened up, pulling his form back and splaying a head on his chest.

“I’m offended!”

“You started it,” You shrugged, taking a drink of your coke bottle you had beside you.

“You’re so boring. Let’s go do something!” Eddie whined, setting his electric guitar safety to this side before getting up and snatching your book from your hands.

“Hey!” Your hands followed the book, an angry look on your face.

“C’mon, bookworm,” Eddie said, dogearring the top corner of the page and throwing it onto his bed. “We’re going somewhere.”

“Where?? At-,” You looked at Eddie’s digital small, bedside clock, staring at it for a few seconds as you contemplated the time it showed. “Two in the morning are we going to go? Won’t we get in trouble??”

“My uncle doesn’t give a shit. He’s probably passed out on the recliner in the living room,” Eddie said, staring down at you. “And we could go to the lake, maybe take a walk in the woods, go to the 24/7 convenience store in town. Maybe we could walk around town even, it’s not that big and the moon is full tonight so it’s fine. We can still see.”

You hummed, looking down at your notebook and then up at the book Eddie tossed up onto his bed.

“C’mon, sweet cheeks,” Eddie decided for you, hoisting you up by your upper arm. “Get your shoes on.”

“Fine fine,” You complied, retracting your mechanical pencil and shutting your notebook.

You sat on his bed, which squeaked under your pressure, and put on your converse sneakers. And just as finished making sure the bunny ears of your laces were even, Eddie straightened out his leather jacket and denim vest before grabbing another one of his leathers from his closet.

“What’s that for?” You asked, standing up and moving your coke bottle to a flat surface instead of just leaving it on the carpet floor.

“Just in case,” Eddie shrugged, holding the jacket.

You followed him as he headed outside, twirling his keys on his fingers. You both got in on your opposite sides of his van, and you buckled in while Eddie started the car. But he caught your attention by plopping the spare leather jacket in your lap.

“Hold this for me, will ya?”

You nodded and Eddie took off, the radio quietly playing some heavy metal. Both both drummed along to the songs you knew, him on his steering wheel and you against your jeans. You watched the road ahead of you, your surroundings lit by the orange streetlights. And you watched as Eddie drove towards the middle of the town in Hawkins.

“Here we are, princess,” Eddie parked his van and turned it off.

You followed suit with him as he got out of the vehicle. And you two walked shoulder to shoulder down the sidewalks, glancing in stores as you passed them. Stopping and talking about your preferred things inside certain stores.

Eventually you two made your back to the van.

“Wanna go to Lover’s Lake?” Eddie asked once you got settled, his head turned your way when he asked.

“The place where horny teenagers go to test out their exhibitionist kink?” You asked, looking at Eddie in bewilderment.

“C’mon, there’s a spot that’s pretty chill. I’ve never caught anyone in that area,” Eddie pressed.

You stared at him for a few moments, “Fine.”

“That’s my girl,” Eddie started to pull out of his parking spot. “Gotta be a little more adventurous, sweet cheeks.”

Eddie winked at you and you rolled your eyes. You watched as the buildings faded out to trees, and how more and more stars became visible in the late night sky.

Eddie parked in a bare spot in a group of trees and turned off his vehicle. He leaned over and dig through the glove box in front of you, fishing out a lighter and a joint before shutting it.

“You mind?” Eddie asked, holding the joint up between two fingers.

“As long as it’s outside of your van.”

“Of course.”

And Eddie got out, lighting the joint before throwing the lighter into the driver seat and shutting his door.

You got out, noticing how chilly it’d gotten the later it’d gotten.

“Wear that leather jacket I brought,” Eddie said, standing near the hood of the van, but on your side of the vehicle.

You took the leather jacket from your seat, putting it on. Immediately, the scent of Eddie and leather enveloped you. It smelt of weed, a little bit of cigarette smoke (which was from his uncle smoking in the trailer, it tended to waft through the building), a little bit of dust supposedly from being in the closet for awhile, cheap cologne, and a weird sweet, but musky smell you couldn’t pinpoint. And leather from the jacket in general.

It was a bit big on you. The back of the jacket covering your butt, the sleeves covering down to your second knuckle down, and the collar rested around the middle of your neck.

You could see the hint of a smile on Eddie’s face, along with an undetectable look in his eyes.

“C’mon,” He waved you over and you followed.

Eddie had you two settled on the lake’s shore. Both of you talking about everything and nothing as he smoked his joint. But his focus never diverted from you.

There was a spot of silence in your conversation, and you could see him thinking before it seemed he decided on what he wanted to say.

“You wanna try before I finish it?” Eddie offered his joint in your direction.

“I have asthma, Eddie,” You said that even though you did, but you worried how fragile your asthma was.

“I’ll give you mouth to mouth if something happens,” Eddie winked, stilling holding the joint out.

“Alrighty,” You took the joint. “My inhalers is in my seat if we need it.”

Eddie nodded, watching you.

You, unknowingly, took a little too big of a hit for a beginner. And you started coughing almost immediately, leaning over.

“Oh shit-,” You heard Eddie mutter and he started patting your upper back hard.

The patting helped, and you sat up, still coughing and trying to catch your breath.

“Do you need your inhaler?”

You shook your head, your coughing subsiding. You handed the joint back to Eddie, looking at him, your pupils a little blown out but you didn’t know that.

“Alright,” Eddie pat your back twice. “Well not so big of a hit next time, babe.”

“Hey! I’ve never smoked before so I didn’t know,” You defended yourself.

Eddie only smiled before taking another hit, then smushing the joint into the dirt you two sat on. He settled back on his hands, and you sat beside him crisscross.

You turned to look at him and say something but then stopped, looking at his blown out pupils and a soft smile of his face.

“What?” You asked, wondering if you had something on your face.

“You’re so pretty,” Eddie said, his smile growing.

“Yeah right,” You hit his leg, turning away and looking at the water.

“No really,” Eddie moved so he sat beside your knees, facing you. “You’re so pretty, with your dorky glasses and your short hair. And you’re soooo smart! Cause you like know everything about english and the books we read, probably cause you’ve read them a hundred times over. AND! You know how to play bass guitar and that’s so cool and we should definitely play together and maybe we can help each other write songs, cause I also have a band.”

You only stared at him, shock on your face. And your face was so so hot. Like sweating, maybe. You fiddled with your fingers as you looked back and forth between his so dark, almost black in this lighting, brown eyes. His bangs had grown, almost covering his eyes, but you could still see the glittering emotion in his eyes.

“Do you wanna be my girlfriend?” Eddie blurts out, but it’s immediately followed by- “You don’t have to. I’m sorry if this is super awkward and I don’t know if it’s because I’m high or anything but I just reeaally like you. Like a lot.”

“I-I like you a lot too, Eddie,” You told him. “I would love to be your girlfriend.”

A dorky, big smile that crinkled the edge of Eddie’s eyes grew on his face.

“Can we kiss?? We don’t have to if it’s too fast, we can totally go your pace,” Eddie reassured you.

You nodded.

And Eddie moved in front of you, matching your crisscross, and leaned forward, fitting his lips against yours.

He placed a nervous hand on the side of your face, the rings stinging cold against your flushed cheeks. And you leaned into him, both his hand and his lips.

You two stayed like that for a moment before Eddie pulled away, keeping his hand on your face.

You two stared at each for a moment before he got a very excited look on his face.

“I have something for you!!” He kinda yelled.

And Eddie leapt up, bouncing over to his van. He slammed the door shut and trotted back over to you, his hair bouncing. And he plopped in front of you, handing you a box.

It wasn’t a big, thick box. One that could easily fit in your hand, and it was about 2 inches thick.

“I was gonna give you this for helping me, like over winter break or something, but I think now is the perfect time,” Eddie told you, motioning you to hurry up and open the box.

You opened the box, struggling with the tape a bit. And inside was a silver chain necklace with a pick on it, identical to the one of his necklace.

“Oh it’s like yours!” You connected the dots out loud.

“Yeah!” Eddie replied. “Now open the other box!!”

You looked in the box, and sure enough there was another, much smaller box inside. You opened it and there was a ring inside, about the size of his, it was a bird skull, maybe a raven. It was silver and shiny, like his rings!

“Oh wow!!”

Eddie smiled at you, “You should put them on! I can help you put the necklace on if you like!”

“Yes please!” You turned around, handing Eddie the chain necklace.

The man rung it around your neck and clasped it in place, letting it go and hanging it around you neck.

You turned around to face your now boyfriend and you shuffled the ring onto your left, middle finger. You let the moonlight catch the silver ring. And you looked up, Eddie staring at you with an unreadable, but kind look in his eyes.

You were ethereal in Eddie’s eyes. Dressed in an AC/DC shirt that’s seen better days, some black ripped jeans, and your black converse, accompanied by his, too big on you, black leather jacket and your newly gifted from him chain necklace and bird skull ring. He’s never seen anyone so pretty. Beautiful even.

“Stop looking at me like that,” You pushed Eddie away.

“Like what?” Eddie protested.

“I don’t know yet,” You mumbled.

“Am I making you shy, sweet cheeks?” Eddie teased, trying to make eye contact with your ever averted gaze.

“Maybe..,” You crossed your arms, burying your face into the leather.

Eddie cooed at you, grabbing your cheeks and smooshing his lips into your forehead.

“Alrighty,” Eddie heaved himself up onto his feet. “C’mon sweet cheeks, we gotta get home. Do you wanna sleep over???”

You looked up at him, “Sure! Can I shower though?”

“Absolutely!” Eddie helped you up. “You can even borrow on of my shirts tomorrow morning!”

“Okay!”

And Eddie drove you two back to his trailer, and you two got ready for bed. Only getting about 3-4 hours of sleep that night.

And in school the next morning, you proudly wore Eddie’s shirt, leather jacket that you borrowed and the gifts he gave you. And when you sat down at lunch table with the cheerleaders and varsity basketball players, you got shocked gasps from almost everyone at the table.

“Where did you get those?” One cheerleader asked.

“Just Eddie,” You shrugged, reaching into your bag for your book.

“The local freak?” A basketball player asked, scrunching his face in disgust at you.

“Yeah,” You looked at him. “It’s very comfy actually. If you guys have an issue with it, I can just leave.”

And you went to go grab your bag.

“No no!” One of the freshman boys, Lucas, protested. “It’s chill, right guys?”

“Totally!” Chrissy, who sat beside you, agreed.

And the table quietly erupted into table talk, with Chrissy gushing over your gifts. Her awing when you told her that the shirt you were wearing was actually Eddie’s.

Throughout lunch you and Eddie made eye contact, smiling at each other and giving small waves from across the room.

[thecarnivorousmuffinmeta]

Who do you think is more stupid: Edward or Harry?

Harry.

Neither is a bright chap, but Edward has a few things going for him that Harry doesn't.

Academics and the Like

Now, I'm not a fan of flouting things like vocabulary or being well-read as a sign of high intelligence. They're correlated, to be sure, as intelligent people often times read a lot of books and pick up a lot of words, but it's not the same thing.

And I don't necessarily like comparing Edward and Harry in this regard for a few reasons: Harry's not really interested in this sort of stuff so doesn't devote himself to it, Edward has a number of years in higher education where Harry doesn't, Edward reads minds which gives him access to a) answers to teachers' questions b) a higher vocabulary.

Edward prides himself on being an intellectual, Harry doesn't, that makes a difference.

But, on the other hand, it's a struggle for Harry to complete essays like "The Weaknesses of Vampires" in Hogwarts.

Hermione's miles ahead of her competition solely because she actually reads her textbooks and knows how to navigate the library.

The majority of this is that Harry really doesn't care and knows Hermione will bail him out, but there is a part of it that just can't regurgitate the correct information the way that, say, Edward Cullen excels at.

You ask Edward about a Biology question he was half paying attention to? He's got you covered! He's taken this class twelve times and is reading the teacher's mind!

He's able to make these very grandiose and romantic speeches, often incorporating known literature, to Bella. Now is that literature Romeo and Juliet, one of the most well known plays in the English world that he's probably had to read in high school fifty times? Yes. But it's miles beyond Harry who had to have Hermione read Beedle and the Bard for him.

Even when Dumbledore had put in a post-it note in the margins, "Read the book, plz. Hint. Hint hint."

Harry did not pick up on that one.

Which is why Dumbledore gave that to Hermione.

Edward Has Some Ability to Craft a Compelling Argument

Is he good at it? No, but he does have some marginal ability to do it.

Throughout the series he's able to convince Bella that he loves her dearly even when describing the time he nearly murked Biology because she was too delicious. He's able to convince his family that everything's fine and dandy with him and Bella.

When he is argued against, i.e. Alice pointing out that Aro doesn't seem to be up to anything in Eclipse, he's able to come up with reasons of how Aro may have circumvented her visions and is still behind everything.

Is what he says in any way reasonable? No. But he uses the right words and says it with the right confidence that people usually don't question him or if they do they back off quickly.

Harry can't even do that.

Hermione points out in third year that if these Marauders knew these exits to the school, then Sirius Black might as well? Harry stands there dumbly for several seconds thinking "I never thought of that" and then his response is "no way!" He has no counterargument, no attempt to rationalize anything he's doing, everything is by gut feeling and what Harry wants to do.

If you point out he's wrong, he just gets angry, he has no ability to craft any sort of argument.

This also goes for things like suspecting Snape or Malfoy.

Gee, Harry, why is it those two this time?

Slytherin!

... Anything else?

Slytherin!

Conclusion

Edward may be dumb, but Harry is phenomenally dumb.

[p---ink]

Teach Me.

Author’s Note: So. I finally made a Peter Parker Fiction. And I know the gif is Arvin Russell, but that is for a reason, and maybe you'll see it, maybe you won't, BUT TELL ME IF YOU DO. So this is an unnamed OC fiction, but its mostly reader insert, aside from the fact that she’s black (surprise, surprise) and she has brown eyes. I made her an “OC” because of that fact. Also, get ready for some fluffy head cannons of Peter P. In the not-so-distant future though. 

Summary: Maybe Peter Parker, isn't as innocent as he seems. 

Warnings: Smut. Smut. and more Smut. Car-smut. Dark-ish Peter (Not really, but he’s not his usual wholesome self) 

Song: Star-gazing by The Neighborhood. I literally based this entire fiction on this one song. Even if you don’t read the fic, you should listen to it. 

Word Count: 5.5k

“If you don’t mind me asking,” She started, pausing a bit to give him time to look up at her, “ who brings a textbook to a frat party?”

His heart stopped for a moment when he realized who was speaking to him. But then he matched her grin shyly and replied, “It’s more of a conversation starter than anything.” 

“Would you say its been working well?”

“I did somehow manage to get someone as pretty as you to speak to me.” 

The smile that was already plastered on her face, grew wider along with her eyes and brows. “Wow Parker: Who knew you could be so bold after a few drinks?

“I’ve only had one, so the rest is all me.” He closed his book and readjusted his leg inviting her to sit. Then as if just realizing, he asked, “You know who I am?”

“Of course I know who you are. We went to Midtown together.” She said, getting comfortable on the couch. 

“Yeah I know. But we barely spoke to each other. Sometimes I wondered if you even knew I existed.”

“I always kept tabs on cuties like you. Especially you, actually.” She declared. 

“And you call me bold.” He muttered under his breath, a small blush creeping up.

“I’m always like this. Anyone who knows me, can tell you that. But anyone who knows you, would say the opposite. You were always so good.” 

“Good?”

“Yes! Good. Innocent. Nice. Whatever floats your boat.”

“And I remember you being, bossy, assertive, and intimidating.”

She threw her head back in laughter before stating,“You say that like its a bad thing.” Coming down from her fits of giggles she adds, “You noticed me, too? Never thought I was on your radar.”

“How could anyone not notice you.” He asked. “We had English together our freshman year. First day of class, you challenged Mr. Frechowsky, for inflicting his political views on the rest of the class. He got so red in the face, after yelling at you for three minutes straight, but everyone was more shocked at you for being unfazed.”

“I forgot abou-”

“Sophomore year, you “accidentally” tripped Amy Shuemacker,  after she made a rude comment about Ned’s weight. Junior year, you announced that you wanted to be not only the first female president, but the first who was black too. I remember telling myself you’d have my vote. Senior year, you almost had a mental breakdown when it looked like Michelle Obama was gonna run.” Peter finished, with not a hint that he was out of breath. 

“I-” She was more than taken aback. “I’m embarrassed that you remember all of that. Its been like four years since we graduated. Frankly any other person would have forgotten.”

“I think its impossible for anyone who’s met you, to forget the day they did.” He admitted to her. 

She just stared at him in awe for a moment. Mouth slightly agape from surprise. A shadow of a smile ever so present. 

Even though he was the one to say it, it was his face that turned a tinge pinker than before when he realized the weight behind his words. He swallowed thickly, averting his attention to the patterns that lined the carpet, fearing that he made her uncomfortable. In all honesty, he used to have a proper crush on the girl, rivaled by even Romeo’s adoration for Juliet.

This was the same girl he once described as ethereal. He once told Ned that fairies wove the strands of her hair, and butterflies still lived there, claiming that he saw them playing beneath her braids. The sun literally lived under her skin, and it was the secret as to why it would glow, and why her smile was so bright. He would swear to anyone that listened, that the harp was made with her voice in mind, and that it, her voice, played a better melody. He used to be lovestruck. Guess those feelings still lingered. 

If you asked him, two minutes ago had he gotten over it, his answer would’ve been yes. Would’ve been. 

His sudden fluster—which she found adorable by the way, broke her from her trance as she grinned and said “Don’t act bashful now!” playfully shoving his arm as she uttered the words. 

Quickly recovering from his earlier hiccup, he slowly returned her grin and tried to retaliate but before he could, “We have to go. Now.”

They looked up to see an irritated looking preppy girl impatiently scowling down at them. She couldn’t have been much older than 21, but no one told that to her clothes and aura. Her olive skin couldn’t hide the frown lines that had been assigned to her, nor the bags that would put a raccoon to shame. Besides the current circumstances that she would tell them in the next minute, Peter could tell on his own that the girl needed a date with sleep. 

“What’s the matter Li? Is everything okay?”

“Yes, aside from the fact that Angie locked herself out of the apartment again.” She said sarcastically, muttering this last part under her breath “I swear I’ve had it with that girl.”

“Ah I see. Well then we better get going.” The girl affirmed, standing from her seat, making Peter rise from his. “Peter it was so nice seeing you. I hate to leave, I would’ve enjoyed catching up a bit more.” She said, turning to grab her coat. 

“Well then we should catch up soon.”

She turned to nod her head, seemingly interested in his suggestion. “I’d love that. When did you have in mind?”

“How about now? if its a ride you’re looking for, I can drive you home.” Peter’s inner sixteen year old self, screamed at this opportunity. Time alone, with his four-year crush? He couldn’t not take advantage of the moment. 

“I couldn’t ask you to do that. It’s all the way on the other side of town.” She informed him. 

“But you’re not asking me to do it. I’m offering, because, ‘ya know; I haven’t seen you in a while and I’d like to catch up, too.” He said, second-guessing himself and praying that he didn’t come on too strong. “Ya know. Only if you want to.” He added just in case. 

Taking too much time debating whether or not she should say yes, the girl’s friend did it for her.  “Sounds great! I’ll see you at home.” Spinning on her heels,  and walking out of the door.

“Well.” The girl started, smiling at her old schoolmate. “I guess that settles it.”

“Shit!” He cursed, killing the engine completely, and slamming his head back on the headrest. After a couple minutes of trying to get it to start, the boy gave up like his car did.

It had been a full three hours since  Alisha left the party. The time was spent competing about who could find out more about the other. He learned that she still had a thirst for changing the world and community around her. She learned that the boy had been bitten by a radioactive spider and was now New York’s most friendly vigilante. She never knew that Peter could be so hilarious. 

They were stranded on some back road, miles away from civilization, with rain coming down on the roof of the car like they owed it money.

“Peter, what did you expect?” She began to question, giggling as she spoke. “This car is so old, Fred Flintstone has a newer model.”

“Hey!” He cried, “Don’t badmouth Karen. She just needs a little work.”

“You mean a lot of work. Karen is ancient.”

“She’s been good to me.”

“Should I call Triple A?” She asked, ignoring his dramatics. “The rain will probably let up by the time they get here.”

“I’ve got this.” He sighed, readying himself to leave the car. “Besides, triple A doesn’t know Karen like I do. They won’t be able to give her the love and patience she deserves” He explained, the car’s rickety door sounding as he disappeared into the rain. 

She heard that same distinct sound not ten seconds later, as he reappeared, soaking wet from the rain’s onslaught. His white t-shirt clung to his body, while beads of water raced down his skin. His messy locks, traded their dark brown hue for a jet black one, and his dirty converses shone a little brighter than they did before he left the car. 

“Maybe that wasn’t the best idea.” He admitted, the leather making a squelching noise as he glued himself back to his previous seat. 

“The offer for triple A still stands.”

“No. I’ll let this play out. But maybe I can call you an Uber.”

“There’s no way I’m leaving you out here all alone. We’ll let this play out.”

“But this may take a while.”

“I’m the reason you’re out here in the first place. And I like your company, so i’ll stay.”

Peter knew he couldn’t argue with that one, so he let silence befall the two of them. It stayed like that for a moment. It wasn’t quite awkward, but it was definitely palpable. 

She thought to say something, he did the same, but neither could quite let their words come to life. It was unlike the girl he knew before, who said the first thing that came to mind. Unlike himself, who did the same, but in a less graceful way. 

Finally, after what felt like hours of deafening quiet, Peter begins with, “How long have you and Brad been a thing?” The question fresh on his mind, since her phone rang yet again, with his ugly mug lighting up the screen. It was the fourth time she ignored the notification. 

It was rare for Peter to hate a person. In fact he didn’t hate many at all. But there was something about Brad that always made his stomach clench. Didn’t help that he was sniffing around his girl. 

“Hmm.” She pondered, tapping her chin with her index finger. Acting as if she was carefully thinking about it.“For about for-never and a day” She finally answered.

“Oh I thought, that since—“ Peter stammered, growing embarrassed by his assumption, and the disdain that coated his words.

“Anyone would have, with him blowing my phone up.” She sighed. “But alas, nothing will ever come of us. No matter how much he wants it to. Wish he’d take a hint.”

Back to silence. But this time it didn’t consume Peter. It gave him a bit of hope, enough hope to ask her his next question. 

“Back at the party,” he started before pausing, which prompted her to question, yes, before he could properly collect his nerve to ask her what he wanted. 

“Back at the party, you mentioned you always kept tabs on me. Especially me. What did you mean by that?”

“I may have had a small crush on you.” She answered without missing a beat. This of course took him by surprise, but not for long. 

“Why did you never act on it?”

“Because I quickly realized you weren’t my type.” She said as if it was nothing in the world.

“Ouch. What did I do to make you realize that?” Peter asked. Though his tone was light-hearted, he tried not to let on that he was hurt. 

“Nothing.” She replied. “You were just yourself. Peter Parker, the innocent good boy who would never harm a fly.”

Peter thought to himself for a moment. He thought long and hard before he decided to bring up the word she had uttered more than once tonight. “There goes that word again: innocent. What makes you think I’m innocent?”

“Come on Parker. Ned told me you once donated a one hundred dollar bill you found lying on the sidewalk to the local homeless shelter. And that was after you couldn’t find its original owner. That’s got innocence written all over it.”

“Does that make me innocent or a good person?”

“They’re one and the same.”

“There is a big difference between the two.”

“I disagree. The two are definitely interchangeable. Good people are the ones who haven’t been corrupted yet.”

“So does that mean you aren’t a good person?”

“I think I’m a neutral person. Not exactly good, not exactly bad. Just walking the tightrope. I probably would have taken the money, and felt bad about it later.”

They both chuckled at her statement, letting it end that segment of the conversation. Though Peter was done fighting with her about her type’s moral compass, he wasn’t done with the subject all together.

“So,” He paused, and she braced herself, taking notice of how every time he did that, a question she was reluctant to answer followed. “what exactly is your type?”

An uncomfortable breathy laugh passed through her lips as she answered. “I didn’t exactly know it at the time, but I’m able to put it into words now.” She admitted, taking her time as she explained. 

“I guess ideally you were my type. Nice. Harmless. Smart. But I was also looking for someone who knew how to take control. I’m in control of everything in my life, so it feels good to meet a person who lets me relinquish that. Or in more crude terms, a person who has the ability to fuck my brains out.” She declared as she leered in his direction with a small smirk playing her lips. 

She was only teasing. But she could feel that the air had grown thick on the side of the car that Peter had resided in. For a split second, she could have sworn that she saw something snap in him. But as quickly as it appeared, it vanished, making her feel as though she had imagined the entire thing. 

But she knew that couldn’t have been right. Known for many things, her vivid imagination wasn’t one of them. His breath hitched. His shoulders tensed. She hadn’t imagined that. What he said next, after what felt like an hour of silence told her that she didn’t imagine anything at all. 

“Did teaching me, ever cross your mind?” He asked. His grip on the steering wheel, turning his knuckles white. She saw his Adam’s apple bob after he spoke, and his chestnut eyes focused on the rain that splattered against the windshield. 

“U-um I-,” She stammered, Peter catching her by surprise. She had to really think about his question. “I suppose it never did.”

“You still want me?” He asked her, turning his attention back on her. 

“Huh?”

“Am I still your type? Aside from the fact that I can’t take control?” 

She just swallows, before nodding.

Noting her surprise, but not relenting he says, “Then teach me.”

“What?” She questions, fearing she misheard him. 

“Teach me.” He repeated, only elaborating when she scrutinized his face. “Show me exactly how you want to be touched. Kissed. Fucked.”

The way he said the word, fuck, was so filthy. It almost made her lose the rest of her composure. Not like she had much left. He had already rendered her speechless, now he was ruining her panties.

No. She wouldn’t let it play out like this. She had a reputation to uphold.

She peered over her shoulder, then back to him trying to assess whether or not he was serious. When his face showed no sign of amusement, she swung her door open, to trade her passenger’s seat for the back one. 

The rain’s onslaught was still vicious, so her previously dry form was borderline drenched. July’s summer heat, did no favors in keeping her warm, and she had no idea if she was shivering from the rain or her nerves. “Are you gonna come keep me warm or what?” She challenged, trying to find her confidence again.  

It was only seconds before Peter joined her, but it was no question that his body was shaking with anticipation. He looked at her expectantly, surveying her every move. From the way her eyes flitted to the ground, to the way her hands busied themselves by rubbing at her thighs. She was nervous. 

It must have been a snowy day in hell.

“What should we do first?” She asked. 

“Does the instructor usually ask the pupil what lessons they should start with?”

“Kiss me?” She suggested, half-ignoring his comment. 

“Are you asking me, or telling me?” Peter remarked, amusement glinting in his eyes. 

Annoyance overtaking her tone now, she demands this time, “Kiss me.” 

“Say please.” He teased. 

“Damn it Peter, fucking kiss m—”

And then he glued his lips to hers. They were sweet and gentle, like him, but still managed to convey his longing. He hoped the kiss would capture all the times he imagined doing it when she would flash those pretty brown eyes his way. When she would speak in a way that put an angel’s timbre to shame. Even when she would fucking breathe, he imagined kissing her until his lips fell off. He hoped the kiss would make up for all of the ones he was dying to share with her over the years.

The pads of his fingers roamed over her silky smooth skin, starting at her cheeks, ending at her neckline. He tasted the flavor of her strawberry chapstick, the same one that made her lips feel and look as smooth as butter. When he inhaled and tasted the faint scent of minty watermelon on her breath, he decided he couldn’t get enough. He wanted to kiss her until he committed to memory every bump on her tongue. Then he would be satisfied. 

“Like this?” He whispered, pulling back to inhale the same air as her, almost turning feral at the sight of her swollen lips and blown pupils. “Or,” he started, leaning back in to go again, searching her eyes, “like this?”

Whereas kiss one was innocent and sweet, the way that Peter portrays himself, kiss two was the definition of what he could be…or maybe what he already was, she couldn’t tell. He was filthy with the way his tongue glided against hers. The hot wet muscle played hers like an instrument, before locking the two together. One of his hands planted itself on the nape of her neck, forcing her to feel every measure against her mouth. She couldn’t move if she wanted to, not that she wanted to. Just like him she wanted to relish the taste of him. 

With his nose pressed against her cheek, and hers against his, they kissed like they wanted to touch the other’s souls. They began breathing in the rest of the other’s air, like they wanted to swap lungs. Exploring the other’s bodies, like they would die if they didn’t study the exact texture of the other’s skin. 

It took everything in Peter to restrain himself. To keep his thumbs from traveling beneath her shirt. He nipped at his tongue to keep from nipping at her lips and skin. He tried shifting in his seat to distract himself from the shifting going on in his jeans. 

It certainly didn’t help the growing tent in his pants when the girl planted her thighs on either side of his, rocking and rolling her hips to alleviate some of the tension in her panties. 

She took over the kiss, setting the pace and overcoming the surprise from Peter earlier.

Her fingers, that were previously glued to his face, began fumbling with the hem of his shirt, peeling the wet material off and over his head. She marveled at his sculpted chest for a moment, before Peter followed suit, pulling her dampened top over her arms and flinging it over the seat. 

A throaty groan passed his lips when she resumed her measures against his hips. Grinding herself down on his hardening member. 

Her breathy whimpers intensified when his surprisingly warm hands traveled along her skin, caressing her soft flesh. She was getting more worked up the more Peter mimicked the movement of her hips, grinding upwards while simultaneously pinning her waist down. 

She tugged harshly on the patch of hair that lived on the back of his neck, eliciting one of the sexiest groans she had ever heard. His heavily lidded eyes that held the same fire as hers, both scared and excited her. 

As she leaned in closely, preparing her words carefully she ordered him to, “Kiss me here,” before planting her lips on his neck. Flattening her tongue to lick a stripe up the exposed skin, she began swirling the appendage before nipping, licking, and sucking until his skin had a reddish purple hue. 

She got lost in the feel of him, succumbing to the sound of his hisses and moans only to yelp a moment later, when Peter mimicked her earlier actions.

With a fistful of her hair, and her exposed neck jutting out towards his lips he licked a stripe against the skin, just as she did earlier, only his measures were steady and calculated, taking note of every flinch and hitch of her breath. He found her sweet spot in seconds, focusing all of his attention there. 

With her nails digging into his flesh, and her hips stuttering, Peter knew he had her where he wanted her. “Like that?” He rasped, pulling away to admire the strings of purple and blue that littered her skin. 

“Fuck yea Parker; you learn fast.” She gasped, attempting at a laugh, as she peeled her chest off of him.  She took a hand of his into hers, grasping two of his fingers as she bought them to her lips. 

Hollowing her cheeks as she sensually sucked and lubricated his digits, she bought his other hand down to her shorts, beckoning him to unbutton them. “Touch me here.” She murmured, eyes taking in the wide curious ones staring back at her. 

With the newly slick fingers, Peter did as she told him, dipping his fingers beneath the waistband of her panties and finding her nub instantaneously. “Right here?” He enquired, when her breathing turned shaky. 

“Mmm, god yes!” She praised, as he worked his fingers over her. 

Setting a consistent pace, Peter lightly grazed her clit, every time he ran his fingers up and down her folds. “Am I doing this right?” He questioned, flicking and teasing her core. 

“Mhm” She mewled, “fuck y-your fingers feel so good” Her speech was now becoming slightly incoherent.

“Yeah?” He groaned, “What about my mouth?” He asked, just before unclasping her bra a little too effortlessly with one hand. Latching his lips against her perky chest, he massaged the other mound with his free hand.  

Words were lost on her, as she became a wanton mess. She couldn’t fathom how he could be so skillful with both hands. How a person could multitask the way that he did was indescribable. His hand on her clit didn’t let up, but neither did the one that tweaked and pulled on her nipple. Not to mention the hot tongue that darted and sucked meticulously at her other. She couldn’t stifle her cries if she tried. 

Riding his fingers, she pressed his head further into her chest,  becoming greedy with his touch, as she sprinted towards her orgasm. She thought that this feeling couldn’t get any better. 

Of course, Peter was full of nothing but surprises tonight, and needed to prove her wrong. He let two of his fingers slip inside of her, while a thumb replaced the ones that were glued to her clit. Rubbing circles against her sex, he pumped the two fingers furiously in and out of her hole. 

“Does that feel good, baby?”

But the girl didn’t answer, Her mouth hung open as if she wanted to, but the words were jumbled somewhere in her throat. Her face twisted into pleasure, and she couldn’t do anything but succumb to his measures against her body.

It wasn’t long before she felt her stomach spasming, the heat pooling to her core, her already sensitive flower growing even more sensitive, as she came into his palm. 

Her juices coated his digits, her walls fluttered around them, and her skin was now hot to the touch, as Peter forced her climax out of her. 

Tears flooded her eyes, as she took in as much air as she could. When had she stopped breathing? Maybe sometime during the earth-shattering orgasm her old classmate was giving her. 

Once the ringing in her ears subsided, and her lower region began to cool again, she thanked the boy and praised him as she said, “You did so well,” before planting hot wet kisses on his shoulder and neck.

She stopped when she felt his body shaking. Coming back up to eye him, she asked what he found so funny. 

Peter tried to hide the smirk that plastered his lips but he couldn’t hold his act any longer. “You just don’t get it do you?” He asks as he casually licks and sucks at his fingers, just as she did earlier, relishing in the taste of her essence. 

The confusion on her face and brain was evident. “Get wha—” He had her pinned on her back, before she could utter the last syllable.

The tight space was cramped, but the boy had more than enough room to stalk his prey. He hovered above her, ridding her of the rest of her clothes in one fell swoop, before delivering his monologue. 

“I don’t know what it is about girls like you, but I swear you drive me crazy.” He admitted, before removing his jeans in a quick motion. “You always assume that just because I’m a nice guy, I won’t be able to fuck your brains out.” He informed, before revealing a hidden condom and rolling it on before lining himself up at her entrance. “But I hope that if tonight proves anything to you,” He starts, eyes finally darting up to land on her horror-filled ones, “it will be that your mindset can land you in a whole heap of trouble.”

And with that, he grasps the door above her head, before sinking himself into her.

Groaning at the feel of her, Peter’s facade dropped completely. Her tight little cunt feels even better than he imagined, and he hopes that he feels better than she ever imagined. 

He starts slow, with the intent of her feeling every ridge of his cock, as it threatens to invade her stomach. Her soft tits bouncing with every thrust, send a jolt through his body every time her nipples graze his chest. The way his name falls off her sweet tongue, has him in shambles, as he picks up his pace, throwing slow and steady out of the window. 

Her cries are loud in his ear, as he ruts against her sex. He’s so thick, its hard for her to think straight. He can feel the indents of her nails as they dig into his lower back; she tries to press his ass closer to her, never wanting him to leave.

Maybe if it were any other guy fucking her, she would have felt the seat buckle digging into her back. Maybe she would have felt her sticky sweaty skin on the leather of his back seat. Maybe the awkward position her head was in would have spoiled her experience. But with Peter, she could only focus on the pleasure. 

His thrusts were relentless now. His hot breath was fanning the side of her cheeks. His previously damp hair, stuck to her neck, as he drove himself further into her skin. Nothing could distract him away from her in this moment.

Nothing but the faint glow of her phone, that is. It’s buzzing, and vibrations immediately catching his eye, as he held his head up. That same dangerous smirk that she saw earlier returning. 

“Look who’s calling, baby.” He purred, overcoming the stutter of his hips. When he held her phone up for her to see, her heart sank at the mischief behind his words. Brad. “Should we answer it?”

“No, Pete!” She cried. 

“Oh come on, that would be rude wouldn’t it?” He dared, before delivering a particularly hard thrust, that sent her mind into a haze. “We can stop so you can take this—”

“No! D-don’t stop” She begged, prying the phone from his fingers, and fumbling with the answer button. 

“Babe? Hello?” Brad’s irritating voice answered flooding, her phone’s speaker. But the girl didn’t answer immediately, because she was too busy trying to stifle her whimpers. 

“Hey Brad!” She finally choked out, sounding somewhat normal. How she managed to do it, she couldn’t say. 

“Wow! Finally. This is like my eighth time trying you. I almost can’t believe you answered. What are you up to?”

“Should you tell him what you’re up to, babe?” Peter devilishly whispered against her skin.

“Nothing!” She whined into the phone. 

“Whoa. Are you okay? You sound a little off?”

“You should tell him you sound like this because I’m making you feel so good.” Peter suggested, driving her body up and down the seats. “I bet he’d wish he were me right now.”

“I-I’m just a feeling a l-li-little sick is all.” She breathlessly stuttered.

“Should I come over?”

“Ah yes Peter!” She wailed, when the boy starts circling his fingers against her clit, while simultaneously grinding slowly but roughly into her. She’s no longer paying attention to the man on the other end. His curses don’t faze her, nor does Peter’s actions as he releases the phone from her grip. 

“Hey Brad. Remember me.” He casually asks, ignoring Brad’s threats. “Yeah no man, don’t worry about her: I’ll make sure she’s real good and taken care of.” He promises, before ending the call, and tossing the device into the passenger’s seat. “Think he finally got the hint?”

Peter then takes the girl’s hips into his hands, lifting her inches off the seat, before pulling her body onto his dick at an ungodly speed.

Crying. She’s literally crying, with tears streaming down her face. Her voice is becoming hoarse with moans. She had never experienced such intense sex in her life. 

Peter brings the hand that was previously plastered on the glass down to the girl’s face. “would this be the definition of fucking your brains out, baby?” He grunts, in reference to the girl’s constant repetition of his name. It’s the only word she can remember, as he fucks her into the chair. 

His movements shook the car. The heat that their bodies radiated, fogging up the glass. The scent of their sex now embedded in the fabric of his seats. The boy was completely untamed. 

Her screams were one among the things that set him off. The way her body writhed against his was another. The stutter in her speech another. But the unbridled lust that her eyes held, was the literal icing on the cake. 

Thank fuck she came before him. Her tight little hole constricting and clenching his dick. And when he started slipping in and out, her eyes glued shut, and her chest started to rise and fall, he knew that she had came. 

A sweaty fucked out mess before him, she needed Peter to finish her off before she was satisfied. “Drown me in your cum” She begged, and it was like he knew exactly what she wanted. 

Unsheathing himself from her, he ridded himself of the condom, and started tugging violently at his cock. Fucking his hand, not unlike the way he fucked her earlier, he spurted his milky white seed all over her supple brown canvas, a husky groan roaring from his chest as he threw his head back in pleasure. His seed extinguished the heat that resided in her skin, and she closed her eyes shut, letting her head fall back down on the seat. 

The image of his white paint, all over her stomach, chest, and tits, bleeding into his memory, as he came back down from his high. 

Once back down to earth, reality began to sink back in. Immediately recomposing himself, Peter blurted, “Fuck are you okay? Was I too rough?”

His sudden outburst almost made her jump out of her skin, but she quickly recovered. “Oh god no Parker! I loved every minute of that.” She lazily smiled reassuringly.  “Do you always fuck like that?”

Peter returned the smirk, blushing before saying, “I’ve always wanted to fuck you like that.” 

After planting a final kiss on her lips, he reached into the center console, to scavenge a few wet wipes, cleaning her skin before discarding them. 

Moments later, they reunited with their lost articles of clothes, pulling the fabrics over their limbs before crawling back into the front seat.

When Peter put his seatbelt back on, and cranked the car up with no effort, he felt the heat of the girl’s eyes on his skin. 

“What?” He asked, dumbfounded by her glare. 

“Was there ever anything wrong with the car?”

And then as if just realizing Peter mouthes oh, before telling her simply “No.” Adding on that he just wanted an excuse to spend more time with her. 

“Well how the fuck did you know I wasn’t gonna just take your offer for an Uber?”  She asked, more impressed than pissed.

“Because you’re a neutral person, and a neutral person would feel too bad about doing that.”

“There’s a lot of things I still have to learn about you Parker.” She admits, sinking down into her seat. Heat rising to her cheeks, as a new crush began to develop. 

“Don’t worry. I’m willing to teach you.” 

 A/N: So like...don’t be afraid to tell me what you think. I swear I dont bite...unless you're into that. also this was edited it, but probably not well, so tell me if you see an error. 

[shirophantomvox]

Leorio, Hisoka, Illumi, and Chrollo Head Canons #2

What’s up y’all! Thank you so much to the people who have given me feedback about what posts you all would like to see! This post will be about the “Adult Trio” and Leorio about how they would help their significant other with a subject in college. This one is a good suggestion! I’m going to incorporate fluff in this, as I am a sucker for fluff. I hope you all enjoy this! I most certainly do. This post is about 2687 words but don't worry, it's worth the read! These head canons came from my mind its a coincidence that some of these pictures match the thoughts. Portentous (old English) means wonderful or marvelous (in modern English) FYI: I am thinking about creating a discord server for both Voltron and Hunter x Hunter fans. I don’t know how to use the fancy perks of discord yet, so if you know how to and can help me out, send me a message! Alright, let’s get to it! Obviously these images are from Pinterest.

Discord Server for Voltron and HxH fans!

Leorio

“Mr. Leorio”, as we all know, is a sharp guy. He dresses in a suit, carries a suitcase, and wants to be a doctor. This man knows everything about academics, especially math and science. He will need to know these subjects to be a successful medical doctor.

Leorio received an A- in Calculus II and a B+ in Organic Chemistry. He was the only one that passed with flying colors while everyone else barely made it. He didn’t gloat in their faces but as soon as he got into the hallway he jumped for joy.

He was extremely happy about his progress and counted the days until graduation even though that was in 5 years. Wow! Don’t we love graduate school?!

He deserved the high grades because he spent countless nights studying missing parties, football games, and being with you just to make sure he was on the right track to graduating on time.

As we all know, Leorio wanted to pursue this career because he witnessed his best friend dying in front of him powerless to save him. The care for his friend would have been too expensive. Obtaining his degree was in honor of his friend; he’d save countless children, women, and men who’d all thank him for his hard work.

Leorio didn’t socialize much, but he did find himself hanging around a group of classmates that were a part of a co-ed fraternity that provided information on scholarship money for graduate school and job opportunities. This is where he met you. You didn’t want to be a doctor but instead wanted to be a computer scientist and decided to volunteer for this fraternity job fair.

As he rejoiced, his smile faded when he saw you walking down the hallway; tears falling from your face not caring who stared at you. He quickly walked up to you, put his arm around your back, and gave you a soft hug.

“What’s the matter,” he asks.

You were failing Calculus, a class you’ve been taking since the 12th grade but for some reason, you couldn’t pass it. Everyone else had A’s and B’s, while you had a D. D’s aren't accaetable in college; most make you retake the class.

“Don’t worry. I’ve just passed my midterm. I can help you study. You’ll pass; trust me.”

Later on that evening, he kept his promise but gave it a unique twist. He kept the lights off and lit 4 Yankee-sized candles in the room that smelled like Lavender. In the background, he had piano jazz playing on his speaker. You felt confused for a moment. You and Leorio weren’t necessarily dating but you both flirted with each other here and there. He wasn’t a social butterfly, but he felt comfortable talking to you.

“Um...what’s the music for?”

“It helps me concentrate. Believe it or not, it helps my brain flow. You like it don’t you?”

“No, actually I don’t.” Truth be told you loved it but you wanted to pull his strings a little. He looked up with a confused look.

“Ok. I’ll turn it off.”

“I'm kidding! It’s great!”

Whenever he cannot solve a Calculus question, he reviews similar problems from Algebra II. He applies this knowledge to your problem.

“Perform the indicated function evaluations for f(x)=3−5x−2x^2 . I’ll solve the first part for an example: f(6+t) simply means you will exchange “x” for 6+t. It will look like f(6+t)=3-5(6+t)-2(6+t)^2=-49 . You’d distribute -5 and -2 to the numbers inside of the brackets in which they are next to.”

Wow, that was easy! Wait, not he must think you’re stupid.

“You must think I’m stupid, don’t you?”

“Of course not! It took me a while to understand it too. You’ll apply the same knowledge for the rest.”

After what seemed like 4 hours (which was 2), you finally finished your homework! It was probably wrong but at least you made it past the 1st question! As you blew out the candles and turned on your LED lights instead, you see Leorio sleeping on your couch. Something about his soft face made you smile and place your hand over your heart.

“My little doctor,” you whispered to yourself.

“Well, come give this doctor some company then. I’m freezing over here!”

The throw blanket was large enough for you both. Snuggling on the couch was a great end to a stressful day.

Chrollo

To everyone else Chrollo was “Boss” or “Boss Man” but to you, he was Chrollo. Big C was known for his love for poetry and language.

He read poetry any chance he had at lunch and even dinner. It had gotten so bad that you had to tell him for the millionth time “No books at the table!”

Given his past, he always read at least 2 hours a day or one book a week. Reading is what got him through the day.

He was staying in your dorm for the day to relax because he had taken and passed his midterms to. The young thief thought about hiding in the closet but he didn’t because he sensed that you’d be tense because of midterms.

As you walked through the door, you looked angry, so angry that you could punch a wall. He immediately rose to his feet, threw his arms straight out in front of him, and motioned for you to stop. You just stared at him blankly.

“Come here,” he said like you, on cue, melted in his arms. He was warm and the deepness of his cooing voice vibrated against your neck. “What’s the problem?”

“I’m failing this stupid Shakespeare class!”

“Really?”

“Yes and if I don’t pass this midterm I’m going to fail the class for the 3rd time. I want to drop out! Who needs this scam anyway?!”

Chrollo held you a bit longer until you were ready to sit down and get to business. You pulled out your college’s book about Shakespeare plays and how he used Old English. Chrollo was the perfect man for the job! He’s read Macbeth and Romeo and Juliet several times!

Chrollo read a few stanzas and explained them. He then had you read some on your own and explain them...still you can’t.

He notices the problem immediately. He catches you snuggling comfortably against his toned arm, nearly falling asleep.

Chrollo laid at the very corner of the couch as you lay horizontally placing your head against his chest. You were comfortable but you weren’t able to focus. He notices this and slightly demands that you go sit at the table. When it came to academics, he was serious.

For as long as he had been reading, he has an arsenal of vocabulary words ready to be of use. He created flashcards for you and had you flip them over for nearly an hour. You start to memorize the words!

But you’re not done yet.

“Say the word ‘portentous’.”

“Por-ten-trious…?”

“No. Por-ten-tas.”

“Tias…?”

He moved his chair next to you, just an inch away from your face. He cups your mouth and moves it as he speaks again. This wasn’t a hard clutch, it was soft and he wasn’t irritated but he could sense that you were becoming irritated.

“Por-ten-tas,” he said again.

Instead of letting your cheeks go, his eyes diverted to your lips. They were moist and plump, ready to be met by his.

“Your lips are gorgeous. Kisseth me quite quaint.”

Oh no. Look at the monster you’ve created.

Chrollo created a reward system. Whenever he did things right as a child, he was rewarded with money and jewels. For every word you pronounced and defined correctly, he kissed you once. For each word you got correct in a row, he’d kiss you twice.

Soon enough he had kissed you so much that you couldn’t see straight!

The kisses worked because you passed your midterm! Each kiss placed a stain in your brain that made you remember the definition and how to pronounce it.

You and Chrollo celebrated by drinking champagne and listened to him read Sonnet 23 and 57.

Hisoka

As unusual as it seems, Hisoka is gifted when it comes to Chemistry specifically. That is why you two work well together...there is some chemistry going on between you two.

His hair down and his glasses were his alter ego, it was something that made him act completely different than what you were used to.

When you all were freshmen, he would skip class, attend parties, and would be hungover almost every week but once he was called into the Dean’s office, he changed.

You slightly missed that edgy side of him, but you enjoyed having a serious beau.

Hisoka is a social butterfly and is the life of the conversation and you loved him for it but sometimes it was awkward.

While he was chatting away about Calcium (Ca) and Iron (Fe), you stood there nodding like an idiot. You had NO IDEA about what he was talking about and that is why you were going to drop your chemistry class.

“I saw an imbecile put aluminum foil in the microwave and it burst into flames. How did they not know that Microwaves are the radio waves falling under frequency around 2500 megahertz? Any metallic object detected by radio waves inside the microwave acts as a reflector of radio waves.”

You shove his arm hard. He was acting arrogant in front of his friends. You were used to this but it got on your nerves. You made mistakes, everyone does!...even those that almost burn down the entire dorm room.

You two leave the party and head to his dorm room. Once you were settled, you released a can of anger and threw it all over your boyfriend.

“Hisoka? You just humiliated me.”

“Oh? No one knows that I was talking about you, my dear.”

“Don’t ‘my dear’ me! I asked for your help and you’re ignoring me. I don’t appreciate that. I didn’t ignore you when you sprained your ankle, did I?”

“No, you didn’t, dear. I supposed I have a few hours to kill. What do you need help with?”

Hisoka’s way of studying was much different from other students. He exercises like crazy before he opens his textbook.

He listens to EDM instrumentals while on the treadmill and when he lifts weights. You weren’t standing there like a trophy, he made you lift too.

“Being healthy will help your brain flow more easily. Lift this dumbbell as heavy as you can.”

He ran a mile on the track upstairs. Sweat dripped from his face like he had been standing outside in the rain.

By the time you returned to his dorm, you were beyond tired. You laid your head on his pillow but just as you closed your eyes, he pulled you up on your feet.”

“Not on my watch,” he tutted. “It’s chemistry time.”

You were having trouble memorizing Chemical Formulas and this by far was the most difficult concept you had come across.

To make you stay awake, he turned on a bright LED light and faced it towards the table. The bright light nearly made your head fall off from the pain it reflected in your eyes.

Hisoka grabbed his book and began to write down the major chemicals on the periodic table and their charges.

“Pay attention to the following abbreviations and charges: Calcium is Ca, Chloride is Cl+2, Carbide is C+2, and Carbon Dioxide is CO+2. Read these over and I’ll test you again.”

He did just that but you still weren’t understanding. You were ready to give up.

Stupid scam. Why do I need a piece of paper to determine what I can do? You thought to yourself. Well, it’s obvious. If you can’t do the work now, what makes you think you can do it at a job? Harsh, I know.

“Let me try this,” He said. He carried you to his bedroom and gently placed you on it. He took off his shirt and removed his glasses. “Aluminum has a charge of +3 and Oxygen has -2. If there were three of me and two of my clones disappeared, how many of me are left?”

“Just you, right? One”

“Correct! Excellent.”

Wow, everything started making sense once he took his shirt off.

From then, he just inserted himself into the equation and then it started to make sense! He apologized for running his mouth earlier and promised to keep any more secrets between you two. The night ended with you sleeping in his bed wrapped in a cotton blanket just cuddling and that was it. And bam! You slept as sound.

Illumi

Dating the “hot” quiet history buff was a flex of its own. Sure Illumi didn’t talk to anyone besides you, but it didn’t matter. People swooned if he looked in their direction.

History was a popular major during your era. People were not like their grandparents; they wanted to learn about other cultures besides their own. Illumi’s specialty was in world history and civilizations. The class was very interesting to you but there was so much information, you could barely process it.

Illumi often wrote his essays in one day proofread and all! He often charged people to look their essays over.

One time he made $500 in one year!

Glancing at your transcripts, he notices that you have a C- and offers to help.

“Why are you looking through my stuff?”

Hey, he’s your boyfriend! But still, he should ask.

“Sorry. It was up on the screen,” he said, throwing his hands in the air.

You began to blush in embarrassment. The hottest smartest man in the building now knew that you were failing one of the easiest classes on campus.

Placing his thumb under your chin, he lifted your head to meet his gaze. “There’s nothing to be embarrassed about. I can help you.”

“How? I am so behind! I zoned out after chapter 2!”

“We’ll watch a movie.”

“Oh, God! Not one from PBS is it?!”

“Yes. How else are you supposed to learn?”

He turns on the movie and allows you to lay your head on his shoulder but not too much. He is aware of your tricks and he wants you to pay attention.

Every 15 minutes, he pauses the movie and asks you checkpoint questions. If you got them wrong, you had to stand up with your underclothes on (t-shirt and shorts) in the cool room for 10 minutes. If you got the questions right, he allows you to lay more comfortably. You were already in your underclothes but you were under the blanket.

He made you write down key definitions and the embarrassment of each section.

After the movie, he blindfolds you and reads out a term. Surprisingly, you got them all correct!

As a reward for your past midterm, he takes you to dinner at a restaurant where he slips a promise ring on your finger containing your birthstone.

[doofnoof]

if you get this, answer with 3 random facts about yourself and send it to the last 7 blogs in your notifications, anonymously or not! Let's get to know the person behind the blog

Ough okay!!!!

Uhhh

1) I have a birthmark on the back of my right leg, it's lighter than everywhere else

2) I'm allergic to apricots!!! Apricot marmalade (or whatever it is. It's like a jam with many orange fruits in it but it's mostly Apricot and Oranges and I eat oranges all the time. Apricots are the only fruit included in the marmalade/jam that I don't eat much of) makes my throat and mouth itchy, which is too bad bc I think it's Delicious. At least I'm still good to eat peaches and nectarines!!! But not Apricots, weirdly enough. My aunt is allergic to peaches, so it Tracks.

3) I LOVE ZOMBIES SOOOOO MUCH!!!!!!! The very first horror movie I ever saw was Resident Evil, and I blame it for my current love of zombies to this day. The way my mom has always recalled it to me, I was 4 years old and had seen my parents set up the PS4 to watch movies a few times and decided to try it out myself, and Resident Evil was in the PlayStation from the night before (the adults must've been watching it while I was sleeping) and I sat down and watched it, and then watched it again and again afterwards because I thought Alice was the coolest (most beautiful) woman I'd ever seen, and the Zombies were all super cool too. I was especially fond of the Lickers (the things with the long tongues) and I used to imagine taking one for walkies and scratching it's brain-head-thing like it was a dog. When I was eventually caught my mom was Very Upset but impressed that I'd figured it out all on my own and that I had it all figured out for like a week without anyone noticing, but the very first time I had a zombie themed nightmare Resident Evil was put on the High Up Adult Shelf never to be seen again until I hit double digits. Funny enough, a little while later I was watching my dad play Fallout 3 and when he walked into a bar and started talking to a Zombie Bartender I decided he was the most handsome man I'd ever seen and became Smitten with him. Come to find out, he was a Ghoul (not actually a Zombie) named Gob and he's still one of my most cherished favorite characters of all time. On top of that, when I was like 10 I could quote all of Zombieland word for word, for each and every character, and without even looking up from what I was doing list which zombies were in a scene. My Uncle found it kinda creepy the first time he saw me do it until eventually it became a game to see how long I could quote perfectly without messing up. I was entirely normal and not at all weird or obsessed with Warm Bodies (which absolutely didn't tap into my crush on Gob and my obsession with Romeo and Juliet, which I absolutely didn't read cover to cover in elementary school. /s. The school librarian wouldn't let me take the book I'd wanted home with me because it was Too Advanced so I picked a children's book out of spite, and once I was done reading it I wanted to read some more but had picked a book too far below my reading level, spotted a book abt the same size as the book I'd wanted at school on my grandma's bookshelf, saw the Ye Olde English, and decided I was gonna go for a challenge anyways bc Hecc You I Don't Do What You Tell Me. I didn't understand all of the jokes so I looked them up on the public library's computer later that week and once the stuff I didn't understand was Understood it became a personal favorite. I was insufferable abt it in English Class once I hit Highschool.)

Wow that was long!!! But zombies are super cool; as a metaphor, as a monster, as a marketing ploy, just. Zombies.

[yanderepuck]

Just had an idea for something to write… Basically, you’re taking a class about Shakespeare, I’m in college, but I guess the setting could be at any stage of schooling, and little do you know, the professor is Will himself…

Feel free to (plz) make it nsfw 😏

Honestly, head went brrr first time I read this. I'm not into the student x teacher thing but head went bRRRR BC POSSIBILITIES. I mean. The man would be like 500 years old, everyone is too young for him.

I took a Shakespeare class way back when I'm 23 wtf am I saying.

WAIT THO. INSTEAD OF A CLASS ON HIMSELF WHAT IF HE'S THE THEATER TEACHER. NO

B O T H

I had a teacher that had a stage in his classroom and we would act out the stories we read and he also had a theater class.

Never forget the post where someone talks about how they did A Midsummer Night's Dream but it was a Coffee Shop AU.

When we did Romeo and Juliet we had wooden swords.

Will would be a very chaotic teacher tho.

Student: I heard a theory that Shakespeare was multiple people. Will: *sips tea* Go on.

~

*portrait of Shakespeare is on the screen* Will: ugly bitch

~

Student: I love Sonnet 18 Will: Have you read any of the others? Student: well yeah, but its romantic Will: ....wrong Student: what Will: Eternal summer? sounds horrible. Too hot. What do you do when you look at the sun? You squint and try to block it so you don't have to look at it.

Okay I should actually get to the ask tho, lmao.

Wait, one more

Student: I don't think Shakespeare was straight Will: obviously

Most take this class because they want to, not because they need the credit. Most hear Shakespeare and get scared of that old fancy way of talking. The thing is, once you actually start reading Shakespeare, its a lot of insults and dick jokes.

If it says sword...it's probably not a sword. Hamlet is just an emo teenager. Macbeth was really just about his wife daring him to kill someone.

Other than that, the teacher was really cute, fairly young too. He wasn't like English teachers you're had in the past. You've learned that Shakespeare isn't pretentious, just your English teachers.

It's also fairly easy to understand the way it's written if you just take your time, and if you know just a little bit of the slang of the time.

But instead of trying to find the meaning of things written, he asks how everyone interrupts it all. You understand Romeo and Juliet's love a lot more when you realize you fall in love with anyone who shows you affection in anyway.

When someone said that they think of The Lion King when Hamlet is brought up your teacher sat there in silence for a few minutes connecting all the dots.

He once gave the entire class a project on finding their favorite insult in any of the plays.

He's super interesting and a conversation is never boring. He tells the entire class just to call him Will, and never tells you his whole name, which for such a laid back professor is odd. He looks like he should be in college himself, but here he is teaching a college course, and he's been there for a few years from what you understand. For someone so young, and someone who teaches, he talks about so many things he's experienced.

You end up spending a lot of time with him. You're taking an English class as a needed credit and ironically you have to do an essay on Shakespeare. But since it if for an English class it isn't nearly as laid back, and wants sources. Will should be a good source though, right? He's a Shakespearean professor after all.

The two of you spend some time in the library and Will is just still information you haven't heard before. You form it into an essay and make a draft. Apparently your information is fake since it can't be sourced from anywhere but your teacher.

You keep asking Will for help. He obviously doesn't want you to fail, but nothing he tells you is going to be good enough for an English teacher.

You're in a room in the library with him listening to him talk about one of the plays and you can't help but get distracted. God why is he so hot. He's talking about all of this without having to reference anything. He just knows it all. Listening to someone talk about their passion is just...attractive.

Writers note: this has been in my drafts to this point bc I just got stumped. I have a hard time doing a natural teacher x student thing, and I just can't seem to go anywhere with it, but I don't want to delete this. So I think I'm just going to leave it how it is. I wanted to try to make it nsfw, but the topic is just hard for me to write since its not something I'm into, so she's just a student hella attracted to her teacher. Sorry for the disappointment, but I tried >.<

[alldayangst]

love someone for loving you (Peter Parker)

All of my fics are LGBT and PoC friendly. Soulmate and uni AU.

PAIRING: Peter Parker x reader, Brad Davis x reader (for like, a second)

Warnings: Makeout sessions. Characters drink but they’re of age to do so in this fic. Peter says ACAB and if you disagree with that & can’t have a mature convo about it, then this isn’t the blog for you. This fic isn’t all the way accurate to the MCU timeline. Harry [Osborn] and MJ live in Queens. Betty, Flash, Ned, Brad, Peter and reader all attend NYU in Brooklyn.

Thank you for reading if you make it all the way to the end! Word count: 4.2K words.

Happy reading!

“You’re so fucking hot, y’know that?” You were making out with Brad in your dorm room, with the lights off. Brad was a nice enough guy. Had taken you out on a few dates. Told you your hair was pretty. Said he’d like to get to know you more. But you’re not as eager to take things further because something in your heart just knows he’s not your soulmate. And you’d like to wait a little while for the novelty to wear off before you did something you regretted and entered a relationship you’d known was doomed from the start. “So fucking hot.” Brad kissed along your neck, big sloppy wet ones that left saliva trails from his lips to your neck. 

You didn’t like that kind. 

And that was another reason you knew you and Brad weren’t destined, because your soulmate would just know what you like, know you like the back of their hand. Right? Right.

It’s then that Brad tries to take your jumper off, but your soulmate tattoo is on your ribcage, and in this world, letting someone see your soulmate tattoo is probably makes you more vulnerable than getting naked in front of them. You try to pull your jumper down, but Brad doesn’t get the hint and tries again. You place your hands on his chest. “Not today, Brad.”

You don’t see Brad again. And maybe Brad was your soulmate because he led you to Peter. But Peter definitely wasn’t your soulmate, and I’ll tell you why you know that.

“Y/N!” Betty waved as you stumbled back into the party, shoes placed on improperly and no part of you subtle to what you’d been doing with Brad in your room just a few minutes ago. “Not you out of your room so early!” Your room door slammed behind you as Brad left your room, jacket in hand.

“Didn’t get any?” Betty made a fake pout at you, smoke breezing past her face as you stood there awkwardly, unsure of what to do as you found yourself in a circle with two of Betty’s friends she’d had yet to introduce you to. Sometimes, you wished Betty was your soulmate, but Betty made it clear before you signed the lease that you weren’t her type and truly, you couldn’t see yourself being anything more than friends. And you were the best of friends. Meaning she’d always be the first to comment heart eyes under your pictures and tell you to get that outfit because your booty was doing the thang in that pair of trousers. 

Things would just be easier, if they were easy.

But things weren’t handed on a silver plate for you like they were for others; where they’d been friends with their soulmates since childhood, or lived up the street from them or their soulmate saved their life or something else blindly obvious. And, desperate to find the gold in the treasure chest, you moved upstate to school at NYU. Because great minds and all that. You stood in perfect silence for a minute, chaos never ceasing to happen around you, before Betty decided to make the strangers next to her strangers no more. One shook your hand and said, “I’m Ned.” Oh. So this is who Betty had been raving about? Betty grimaced and placed her hands together to plead with you not to expose her consuming infatuation with her new boyfriend. In a bid to divert the focus, Betty patted the back of the slightly taller one next to Ned, with wispy brown hair and eyes like fresh, raw cocoa. “I’m Peter, nice to meet you.” He shook your hand.

“I’m Y/N, it’s nice to meet you guys.” You sway your attention back to Ned with a smirk on your face, Betty clutching her solo cup a little too hard, her inner monologue begging you to knock it off. You knew Betty was going to get you back for this, but you needed somewhere else to fixate your gaze since you weren’t sure you could trust yourself not to ogle at Peter. With Brad’s saliva on your neck and having only known him for all of twenty seconds, you weren’t sure if Peter would take to any romantic advances. You weren’t even sure if he’d met his soulmate. “So, I’ve heard a lot about you, Ned.”

“All good I hope.” Ned replies and the room glints with his boyish grin.

“Well-” You didn’t get to finish your sentence, and it was probably for the better. Betty grabbed Ned’s arm, vodka making tiny puddles on the floor, with a huge fake smile plastered on her face. In turn, that only gave you a great, genuine smile, loving to tease your friend. “Baby! We should go to another side of the party!”

“What about Peter?” Ned’s voice was getting lost in the jungle of party goers. “Peter can come.” Peter turned to go follow his friend, but not before mumbling a low, “See you around, Y/N.”, snaking his arms around your back, pulling you in for a quick hug. “See you around, Peter.” 

He didn’t reply. Peter could only give you a thin lipped smile, packaged with a lazy half-nod before he was absorbed by the population around him, just as his friend was. And you cursed yourself that night for not taking your chances and saying more.

History was an 8am class, your only class in the morning. You woke with a a dull ache in your head and a dark mark on your neck that lasted longer than your relationship with the guy that gave it to you. The last thing you wanted was to run into Brad. But destiny offered you the next best thing.

“Oh. Hi, Flash.” You attempted to cover your face with your copy of Romeo & Juliet - if your soulmate was here, the last person you wanted them to see you with was Flash Thompson. Flash was walking backwards as you were walking forwards, unamused by his efforts to corner you. “Can we talk, Y/N?” Flash was Brad’s best friend, so you knew you were in for trouble.

“Can’t Brad speak to me himself? His mouth was working last night.”

“I can see that Y/N. Nice hickey.” You cringed, and Flash could tell he was running out of time to bemuse you. “Brad doesn’t want to bother you if you’re not interested-”

“Oh, so you decide to bother me instead.” You remark, and hop over a couple of steps so Flash had to awkwardly speed up.

“I just wanted to ask where you and him stood. Like, are you breaking up with him? I thought you had a pretty good thing going on.” His pace started to slow again as you slowly ascended up some of the last sets of steps. “I mean, seriously Y/N? What if you guys were soulmates? I wouldn’t wanna give up so easily.”

“That’s true.” You looked down at your sneakers. You hated this version of the world you lived in. Everything was driven by concepts, whether it be the concept of soulmates or the concept of time that left your campus filled with students five years older than they really were, or the concept of good and evil that spawned superheroes who you weren’t sure did more damage to the world than they gave back.

Overall, the concept of fate was once you had to always wrestle with. And you thought that maybe yours was standing at the top of the steps to rescue you from this conversation, ready to make Brad feel the trip of the guilt he and his friend tried to make you feel for not feeling the same way. “Y/N! We have class, c’mon!” Peter waved his goggles at the top of the steps, a knowing smile on his face as Flash looked up at him and glared. 

Peter just had to steal his thunder on a sunny day.

You ran to meet Peter at the top of the steps. “Thank you for bailing me out. You’re a hero.”

Peter was startled. “Who, what, when, where, me?” He scratched the back of his neck and gave you an uncomfortable, stammered loop of laughter. “Hero? Not me. I’m just good ol’ Peter.”

You chuckled as you breathed out another ‘thank you’ and returned the hug Peter had left un-exchanged last night. “I’m guessing you have bio?”

“Guilty as charged. So what’s your major?”

“English Lit.”

“Oo, how long are you planning to work at Starbucks?” Peter remarked as he held to the main door open for you. “Peter?” He hummed in response. “Fuck you.”

You sat next to Betty in History, the professor droning on about something that made you question why you continued to take History, but as your best friend snatched your book from you, you were reminded. “Star crossed lovers, eh?” Betty skimmed through the fights and the love scenes that all culminated to the uncertainty whether Romeo and Juliet were even supposed to be together. 

“Seems like you and Ned these days, huh.” You couldn’t believe that it had taken Betty three months to allow you to meet Ned, nevermind his cute friend. Ever since the ‘boyfriend’ label had been slapped on their little love affair a month and a half ago, you were beginning to see less and less of your best friend. It felt like two people paying for a single household, and with your lease ending in a short time, you worried Betty would almost evaporate from your life completely.

“Almost.” Betty tried to keep it hush, sheepishly grinning, but gave in completely in record time. “We said we’re gonna show each other our tattoos tonight!” She squealed, another student shushing her from the row above.

“Woah, that’s big!” It genuinely felt as if the wind had been knocked out of you. You realised you’d never gotten as far as Ned and Betty without either you or you partner showing your soulmate tattoo; and when they were never the same, you broke it off. “What if they’re not the same?”

“They will be.” Betty smiled. “I’m sure of it.”

Two loners getting together was never a recipe for success. Betty had given over your number to Ned, who handed it over to Peter, who’d texted you asking for you to come over: ‘wanna make it up to me for this morning at the steps? my bestie is with your bestie, so u wanna get pizza? do you like pineapple?’ 

Sure enough, you were over at Ned & Peter’s within ten minutes, Peter swinging the door open dressed in a tight red and blue top, a hoodie sparsely covering it, with an overexcited greeting of “Mi casa es su casa!”

The energy wasn’t returned. Not just yet. You had to be sure of something first. “Don’t tell me that there’s an American flag top under that hoodie.” Peter looks down at his Spidey suit which he’d completely forgotten he had on between scaling the ceiling in anxious anticipation of your text back. “Having such a boner for the USA is kind of a turn off.”

Peter started cussing under his breath and quickly turned to zip his hoodie all the way up. When he turns back to you, it’s word vomit. “I’m not saying I don’t love this country, I mean, I love Queens. I mean-”

You raise your eyebrows, curious to see where Peter would go with this. “The NYPD fucking hates me,”

“And what would they want with your little ass?” You walk into the apartment. He’d never admit it, but Peter kind of likes the way you bust his balls. It puts him on the spot, makes him want to tell the truth to you about who he really is.

“I mean, I can’t really say-”

“OK. I don’t wanna be an accessory to anything so,” You laugh. “I won’t push. ACAB.” There’s a thud that follows you closing the door. 

“I agree. ACAB.”

A few hours pass with Peter and he’s beginning to unravel. He shows you the photos he’s taken over the years, several of them featuring a fair haired boy you’d never seen around campus before. “Is he your soulmate?”

Peter nearly chokes on the coffee he’d prepared for himself. “No. Harry? In his dreams.” He sets his mug down. “No, uh, that’s my friend. He lives back home in Queens.”

“You say back home like Queens isn’t a 10 minute drive from where we are.”

“Yeah. But it’s not right here.” You weren’t sure if you’d bruised Peter’s feelings, so you move onto another photo. There’s a polaroid that makes a thin pile with another on the table.

It’s the New York City skyline, from all the way up.

“How’d you get a photo from all the way up here?” Peter grabs the photo underneath it, but not before you catch a glimpse. The glossy paper is adorned with an image of a beautiful girl, black necklace around her neck, the scribbles underneath her photo reading ‘MJ, Pre-blip’.

You think this girl is too gorgeous to just be a friend.

But judging by the way Peter reacted when you suggested Harry was the same, you kept quiet. He didn’t want you to see it anyway. 

“I’m really sticky and I climb up walls.” Peter being Peter is relieved he told you the truth, even if you didn’t know it.

“You’re weird, kid.” You thought you were being smooth, but you couldn’t help the way you look at his lips like they hold the answer to every question you’d had in your life.

“Uh-huh. But you like a bit of weird. Maybe Brad was too square for you.”

“Huh?”

“Huh.”

And then when you and Peter kiss, you suddenly understand what poets mean when they call your lips jigsaw puzzles, because yours and Peter’s slot perfectly together. And you get why there’s all these love songs on the radio, and you feel the Earth shift in your mind and you just know this is the unmistakeable indicator that Peter is your soulmate. Another reason you and Peter are destined, when he goes to kiss your neck, it’s like soft little hot touches. 

You liked that kind. 

And a soulmate would just know that, know you like the back of their hand. Right? Right.

Peter rests his forehead on your own, lips swollen. “I don’t want to go anywhere, don’t wanna do anything you don’t wanna do.”

You and Peter cuddle for the rest of the night on his sofa, Ned and Betty doing the same on yours. And the novelty picks back up like clockwork.

“Peter? What if we aren’t soulmates?” you groaned, Peter’s hand on your head, keeping you snug to his chest. You and Peter had been dating close to two months now, Ned and Betty moving to five. In any other relationship, you would’ve called this phase The Ticking Time Bomb. You toyed with the black dahlia that sat perfectly between his pecs. Peter had been to Queens last week. He’d retrieved his necklace from the girl in the photo, MJ. She was an old friend, he said. Him and her? Not meant to be. Maybe in another life, he’d say. Another timeline. Then he’d gesture between the two of you. This. This is meant to be. Us.

Peter shrugged. “What if we weren’t?” Peter had an almost permanent bandage on his ribcage, exactly where your soulmate tattoo was. Where and how Peter got injured was a mystery to you, and he’d never dare tell you no matter how much you pushed. It almost made you wonder if he was keeping any more secrets from you.

You propped yourself up, both hands on his chest. 

“I couldn’t move back in with Betty. She and Ned are soulmates, they need their privacy.”

“Who said you’d ever to move back in with Betty?”

“I couldn’t afford to live by myself, Peter. Not everyone had a Stark internship in high school.”

“Who said you’d have to move out at all?”

“If we’re not soulmates-” Peter moved your hands from his chest and wrapped them around your waist, pulling you in for a loving kiss. “What have I told you? You and me, we’re meant to be. Us.”

But you didn’t have the tattoos to prove it. 

You and Betty were sitting in History class, ignoring the professor’s droning as per usual. Betty had this beaming smile on her face and you were sure if she didn’t say what was on her mind soon, she was going to explode all over someone’s Henry VIII’s notes.

“Betty?”

“Yeah?” She shrieked with scarlet cheeks.

“Spill.”

Betty let out a breath. “Well, since you insisted.” You couldn’t help but smile at your best friend. “I think Ned might propose tonight!”

“I feel like you should be taking me out to dinner before you dump all this load on me.”

Betty’s eyes glazed over, obviously too excited to contain her emotions. “What about you and Peter? The tattoos must match up since you’ve stayed around this long.”

“Actually, I-”

Betty makes an O face at you, which told you she couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “C’mon. You haven’t played I’ll Show You Mine if you Show Me Yours?” Betty was in awe. “Y/N! You must really like him.” 

You did really like Peter. That was the issue. You weren’t ready to feel jaded if your tattoos didn’t match up like they all inevitably did in the past. You felt something different for Peter. Betty was right. That was why you stuck around this long. “Hey Betty, is my old room still my room if things between me and Peter don’t work out?”

“Of course, Y/N! I’m here for you til’ the end of the line.” Betty pulled you into a great, big hug.

“OK. Session dismissed.” Your professor echoed. “Everyone can go. Y/N and Betty, stay after please.”

You’d gotten kicked off of History, which was bittersweet. Seeing as History was Betty’s major, your professor had to keep her there - but he was sure ‘she’d flourish once you two were separated.’  

You and Betty walked out of the main entrance, Ned and Peter both waiting for you under the shelter at the top of the steps. Seasons had changed. It was far from the summer day Peter had to spotted you on the way to class. “We’re gonna run in, drink some cocoa. We’ll catch you guys later.” Ned shivered as Betty re-engulfed him in his jacket she’d been holding for the scent. 

Love was weird, but you wanted so bad to be a part of it.

You turned to Peter beside you. “And what are we gonna do?”

“Swinging.”

“Peter, I don’t swing. I’m perfectly happy in our relationship.”

Peter held onto your waist, your head nuzzled into his neck, not daring to look down at the city below you. This was the first time you’d ever experienced something like this, no doubt, but Peter was getting a strange sense of deja vu.

“Y/N!” You didn’t move from your place in his neck, but he knew you could hear him. “I love you. I trust you.”

“You’re-” You didn’t trust yourself to speak. “Fucking.” You opened one eye just to be sure you weren’t dreaming. “Spiderman!”

“I’m something more important: your boyfriend.”

Leave it to Peter Parker to get all sappy with you in the middle of the sky. 

You opened both your eyes now. “What about my soulmate?”

“What?” Startled, Peter lost controls of his webs for a moment, and knocked his rib on the side of a building. Luckily for you, you were lower to the ground.

‘Injury detected,’ Peter’s AI, Karen, stated.

“Yeah, I know, Karen.” Peter stated.

“Is it right there, babe?” Peter nodded, sat on the concrete, and pressed the spider in the middle of his suit. You watched as it became loose.

Your eyes flickered to the bandage on his ribcage. Maybe you had your answers as to how Peter always seemed to be hurt, but you needed your ultimate answer. And it was behind the bandage. “Right here, are you sure babe?”

You were on edge. You weren’t sure what you’d do if fate didn’t allow this to be true. For the sake of your heart.

So you peeled back the bandage.

And you found nothing there but a series of bruises. Your heart was crushed. “Nothing, Peter. There’s nothing there.” You had tears in your eyes, and before long you were ugly crying. This wasn’t a case of the novelty wearing off. This was a case of the novelty being broken down ‘til it can’t function no more.

“That’s a good thing baby, maybe I just need to go to a hospital.”

“No, I mean it Peter! There’s nothing there!” You pull up your heart to reveal a half full shirt printed on your body twenty one years ago, this exact heart only belonging to one other person in the world. But it wasn’t Peter. Even though he had just told you he loved you. “Fuck!” Your voice became incomprehensible, drowned out in tears and squeaks of sorrow. “I’m so sorry, but we can’t see each other any more. T-there is someone out there for me. You need to understand.”

And, unsure if your legs would take you all the way, you made your journey to Betty.

When you made it to Betty’s, she stood in the doorway with a rock on her finger. You couldn’t see that, though, through your tear blurred vision.

“Oh, poor baby.” She immediately embraced you, with Ned circling to your side to group hug you. You sniff into her shoulder. “He’s not-we’re not-”

“My darling.” She pauses. “I’m hoping you got the first month’s rent.” She laughed and you laughed before she pulled you back in her embrace and allowed you to feel what you needed to feel.

It’s often underestimated how miserable you need to be in order to cry yourself to sleep. You didn’t even know you did until you woke in your old room, your old band poster replaced by a calendar titled ‘Ned and Betty Forever’ and you laughed because Ned and Betty hadn’t even known each other longer than than six calendar months.

And you missed your windowsill on which you’d perch and overlook the breathtaking view of Brooklyn, and the even more awe-inspiring view of NYU students hurling after one too many, especially after yours and Betty’s parties.

“Do you guys even clean this room?” You called out. “You got a serious case of cobwebs.”

Peter lowered himself to meet your view. You were about to draw the blinds on him, only to realise Betty and Ned had gotten them removed whilst you were living with Peter.

“Hear me out.”

“I have no choice.” You chew on the flesh of your cheek. “You took a while to find me.”

“You left me for dead.”

It was hard to beat that one.

“Peter, if you have something to say, say it.”

“I’m sorry.” he’s swinging upside down, side to side and it slightly amuses you to think he’s getting dizzy if the last three months were at your expense. “I know how much this soulmate bullshit means to you, and I kept you longer than you would’ve liked. I’m also sorry ‘cause I knew I wasn’t your soulmate from the start.”

You gasp.

“But I wouldn’t in a billion years say that either you or I belong to someone else. MJ is my soulmate, yes. I love her with all my heart, but I believe destiny can change in the same world where people disappear for five years. MJ moved on. I’ve moved on. Who cares about a stupid tattoo? People go to parlours and give themselves their own all the time. People get them removed all the time. I’m getting my black dahlia erased.” Your face softens a little bit at that, you guard slightly down, but you refuse to wave a white flag without first making your point.

You rubbed your rib cage. “I care.”

“Y/N, you’re smarter than to deny what you feel. You’re an English major, studying Romeo and Juliet. You understand the world better than I do, and I’ve been to 600 different versions of it. You have a heart half full on your ribcage and I have half a flower on my foot. Tell me, would a rose by any other name smell as sweet?” 

You know the answer’s the same one Betty gave Ned tonight when he got down on one knee, the same response you’d give Peter if he was to ask you the same question, what you’d tell anyone if they queried if you’d go through what you went with Peter all over again.

You pull down his mask, and look deep into both of Peter’s eyes, and still him from swinging. “Love someone for loving you for a change.”

And you don’t have to say it, Ned and Betty hiss it out for you not so subtly from the windowsill in the livingroom. “Yes!”

So when you and Peter kiss, it’s not about novelties or concepts, fate or tomorrow, it’s just the beautiful bliss that is love, in this moment.

The unmistakable indicator that you and Peter are meant to be.

Fin.

Credit for the gif goes to: @/tomhollandnet

Masterlist

Upcoming Works

[show-choir-gal]

How You Two Meet - Dead Poets Society Preference

Masterlist of Masterlists

Guide: Y/N: Your Name Y/F/N: Your First Name Y/L/N: Your Last Name

Warnings: Mentions of death in Gerard's

Neil Perry: You met when you both auditioned for a play at a community theatre Audition day has arrived, but Neil was more nervous than ever. The boys accompanied him into the theatre just in case something were to go wrong. Neil was reading over the audition lines, which come from Romeo and Juliet. The boys were really hyping Neil up in the back of the theatre until an older man came up on stage and got everyone's attention. "Attention everyone. Thank you for coming out for the auditions for Antony and Cleopatra. I truly believe we will have a wonderful cast for such a great Shakespearean tragedy. Ladies, please hand my assistant your paperwork and line up for your audition. You will perform your monologue onstage by yourself and then you will exit and take a seat. We will have a brief break and then begin with the men. Break a leg." He said as he exited the stage and sat in his seat next to the assistant he mentioned previously. One after the other, girls performed their monologues and the boys gawked. But then you got onstage and the group of boys just stopped dead in their tracks. "Hello, I am Y/F/N Y/L/N and I will be auditioning for Cleopatra." You performed your monologue of Juliet II ii 85 with all the passion and strive you could muster. Once you finished you had a standing ovation. You bowed and sat next to a girl you befriended at the audition. The girl auditions finished up and you all went on a brief break so the boys could prepare. "Neil, if you don't go after her, I will" Charlie said cheekily as he elbowed his friend. "That was the most beautiful and talented girl I have ever seen." Neil said as he looked in your direction across the room. It was soon the boys turn and one by one they went across the stage and performed, and then appeared Neil. "I'm Neil Perry and I will be auditioning for Antony." He performed his heart out, reciting Romeo III iii 33. He sat down right behind you. When all the auditions were officially over, the director came on the stage once more, "Brava ladies and gentlemen. Those were some amazing auditions and my assistant and I will have a hard time deciding the roles. This can take up to an hour so just be prepared. You were all amazing but remember that we have to make decisions. See you all in an hour or so."Just as the director and assistant left to deliberate on the casting, Neil turned towards his group of friends who were all enthusiastically giving him 'thumbs ups'. Neil smiled and turned back around. Suddenly you turned to the boy behind you. "Neil, is it?" "Uh, yeah I'm Neil. And you're Y/F/N, right?" "Yup! I wanted to let you know you were amazing up there! I was really invested. You have a promising career as an actor, I can't wait to work with you." You said with a smile as you turned back to the girl next to you and started chatting up a storm. Neil's heart melted at the thought of just simply being around you.

Todd Anderson: You were chilling in Mr.Keating's classroom because he's your dad You were sitting in a desk in the middle of your dads classroom, discussing some novels and plays before his students showed up for the class. You and your dad were discussing the interesting aspects tagged along with Franz Kafka's "The Metamorphosis" when you were suddenly interrupted by a few boys entering the room. "Don't mind them, they like to come early." Your dad said as he waved the boys into the classroom with a smile. "How was Death of A Salesman, Mr.Keating?" Neil asked, knowing he went to see the play over the weekend. "Oh magnificent Mr.Perry. I do wish I could've brought you boys with me but I had some great company with me either way." Your dad as he shot you a smile. "Oh did you bring a lady friend with you?" Knox asked but as soon as those rolled off his tongue you shifted uncomfortably in your seat. "We keep forgetting about this doll in Todd's seat. Who are you darling?" Charlie asked as he looked from Todd to you and winked. Your dad chimed in before you could get a word in, "That is Y/N. She's my daughter. We actually saw the show together." Charlie blushed and leaned back in his seat, trying and failing to make himself seem smaller. "Sweetheart, I know you had some rather bold opinions of the play. Also you can sit in the front so poor Mr.Anderson can sit down." Your dad said as he motioned to a desk near his desk. You looked back at Todd who was staring, he turned and blushed as your rose from the seat you were just occupying. "I am so sorry Todd." You replied as you got up and moved seats. Todd quickly sat down but started to stare again as you began to explain how you felt about the play you had seen with your father.

Charlie Dalton: Select girls are allowed to attend Welton, and you were chosen and played in the schools orchestra Welton was known for only letting in some of the best, and when they were letting up to 10 girls into the school for the very first time, your parents did not hesitate to make sure you got one of those spots. Top of your class, president and captain of several clubs and teams, and first chair in the saxophone section with several professional orchestras vying for your skill made Mr.Nolan not even hesitate to welcome you to the school. You walked into your first class of the day. which was English, with your bag on your back and your saxophone case in your hand. You walked in and everyone turned around and stared at you in awe. "Miss Y/L/N, I was wondering when you would be joining us! You can take the empty seat next to Mr.Dalton and tell us a little about yourself." Mr.Keating said with a smile as you made your way to the empty seat. "I'm Y/N, I transferred from a boarding school about an hour away from here. I am top of my class and I play first chair saxophone." "That's brilliant! I love seeing a bright, young mind in my presence. I see you have your instrument with you, would you liked to play something for us?" "Uhm, yeah I would love to." You replied with a smile as you took out your saxophone and assembled it and tuned it. "This is Flight of the Bumblebee, one of the most difficult songs to play on any instrument." "Do you need someone to hold your music?" Charlie asked, rather enthusiastically. "No thank you, I actually have the piece memorised." Charlie looked sad but immediately perked up when you started to play. You were so engrossed by playing you you didn't notice Charlie making heart eyes and melting as he stared at the beauty in front of him.

Steven Meeks: You're staying your uncle Keating at Welton for the year as a foreign exchange student You and Keating just finished the meeting with Mr.Nolan about the terms and conditions about your stay. It was early in the morning and Keating offered to make you a cup of tea before classes were supposed to start, you agreed and stayed in Keating's classroom. It was supposed to be about another 45 minutes before classes began, so you popped a Beatles album into the record player and was just sitting at Keating's desk and absorbed the atmosphere of an American classroom. You were reading "Catcher in the Rye" as you waited for you uncle to come back to the classroom. You heard some robust laughter come closer to the room and you recognised it as your uncles but there were other voices you didn't recognise. You looked up from the book as soon as the laughter was in the classroom. Your uncle entered with two students by his side, he gave you your cup of tea and looked at the boys. "Mr.Pitts and Mr.Meeks, this is my niece Y/F/N. She's an exchange student from England this year. Can you boys help her around during the day so she doesn't get too lost?" Keating asked with a smile. Both boys were starstruck by the girl in front of them, but Steven was falling in love by the moment. Gerard snapped out of the fit first and elbowed Steven to get his attention back to the real world. "Of course I can Mr.Keating." Steven stumbled out, Gerard just facepalmed as you looked at your uncle and both of you chuckled. Steven finally noticed the music playing, and he may not listen to music all that often but he didn't recognise. "I really like this song, who sings it?" Steven asked shyly. Your eyes went wide open and your mouth went agape, "Do they not have The Beatles here in the States?! Let me show you them, they're AMAZING!" You grabbed Steven's hand and led him over to the record player. Keating looked at you two and back at Gerard with a smile, knowing that look better than any poet he's ever researched.

Richard Cameron: You two competed against one another several times during debate competitions First debate competition of the year was in a few hours. The two teams were in the respective classrooms preparing for the competition ahead. You had to go use the restroom so you excused yourself and walked over to where the restroom was located. You bumped into someone as you rounded the corner. "I am so sorry, I didn't see you there. Are you okay?" The boy asked. "Yeah I'm perfectly fine, just got a little spooked." You replied with a smile as you made eye contact with the boy in front of you, you blushed. He stuck his hand out with a smile, "Richard Cameron, Welton Academy." You returned the smile and took his hand, "Y/F/N Y/L/N, Hamilton Academy. I look forward to seeing you on the debate court." You shook his hand as you winked and walked toward the bathroom.

Knox Overstreet: You tutor his sister back at home Knox was coming home today, his parents told you that before they left to pick him up and bring him home. You were tutoring his younger sister in English and geography. She wasn't bad by any means, but her parents always believed she could do better. You never pushed her too far because she would always reiterate that she is doing the very best she can. You knew how it was to be pushed passed your breaking point and you would never want to do that to a student you tutor. You two took a break and the front door flung open and the sound of teenage boy filled the hallway. He immediately went upstairs and put his stuff away as his parents came into the kitchen to ask how their daughter was doing. In the middle of the conversation Knox came into the kitchen as well. He immediately stopped in his tracks as he made eye contact with you, you blushed as soon as he smiled. "My my, Knox Overstreet, I hadn't seen you since you started attending Welton. You look dashing if I may say so, growing into a fine young man." You said with a smile. "Wow Y/F/N, you look beautiful yourself. Going to be an amazing woman one day." He said as blushed back at you. "Maybe, Y/N, if you're not too busy you could tutor Knox as well. Make sure he doesn't lose his muster during break." His father chimed in. His sister came in unexpectedly and said, "I think he just needs a tutor in general, I'm pretty sure I'm smarter than him." This earned a chuckle from everyone and a blush from Knox and you shot an empathetic glance his way

Gerard Pitts: You met when you were forced to attend Welton by your father, Mr.Nolan, because your grades were slipping "You are attending Welton and that is final, young lady." Your father practically spat at you. You got up in a huff as he escorted you to your English class. "Mr.Nolan, what brings you in here for today?" Mr.Keating asked with his usual smile. He practically shoved you into the classroom, "This is my daughter Y/N. She's going to be attending here because her grades slipped too low for my standards elsewhere. Don't go easy on her." Mr.Keating shot you an empathetic glance, "You may sit next to Mr.Pitts. And rest assured Mr.Nolan, I will help whip her into shape in no time." Mr.Keating motioned to the empty chair with a smile. You walked to the empty seat and sat down. Gerard could not take his eyes off you. Mr.Keating had everyone work on a poem as he came over to your desk to ask you if everything was alright. Gerard was tuning in. "I don't know anymore My mum didn't even want me to come here. I got one C because my friend passed away and suddenly it's the end of the world for my father. You'd think he would care a little more since I'm his only child, you know?" You ranted, letting a single tear roll down your face. Gerard immediately noticed and got a tissue and gave it to you. "Thank you that was really sweet." You said with a shy smile. "Well, I can't let a pretty girl cry when I'm around." He said with a smile filled with empathy.

[ink-fireplace-coffee]

Short Story: Kiss me, for I am dying.

A/N: this story was crafted yesterday at midnight so I can't assure the quality of it at all. It is inspired in a theatre/legend we have here in Spain called Los Amantes de Teruel, or The Teruel Lovers in english. It's like the Spanish less known version of Romeo and Juliet.

Word count: 1901.

TW: mentions of death.

I don't have a general taglist or anything on the sort, but @nathandoesntknow asked me to tag them, so here you go! enjoy my midnight weird af inspiration I guess.

------

Five months ago, Jaime would've just left if he saw that on the rooftop of the campus was already someone.

Five months ago, if he had seen that stranger sitting there- feet dangling in the air and looking at the sunset- was Isa, he would’ve turned on his heels and left before she could even so much but noticed him.

Or maybe he would’ve “asked” (more like demanded) her to go somewhere else.

Jaime and Isa hated each other. Pure and simple.

Ever since the first day of university, when Isa had given him a “you are annoying” look after Jaime had accidentally hitted her backpack, launching all her stuff through the hall.

No matter how many times he had tried to convince her that it hadn’t been on purpose, she had said that it was his fault over and over again.

If that wasn’t enough, they had not only been forced to sit next to each other for their whole third year (since it was extremely rude to tame someone else’s seat after the first week of classes) but they also were constantly competing on the top of the class.

If Isa had a 95% on the midterm, Jaime had a 98%.

If Jaime had scored a 9,9 out of ten in that essay, Isa had gotten the full mark.

Everyone saw it as a nice academic competition, the kind that made you better every day and it was healthy. Sometimes it could also be mistaken for a nice banter, or even a bit of university drama.

Isa and Jaime saw it as a live or die battle where only one of them could succeed.

Spanish had been the only subject Jaime had ever been really good at, for as long as he could remember. His zeroes in maths had always mattered less next to his tens in Spanish.

When he had told his father that his dream was to become a spanish teacher, the old man had simply nodded and said “I was not expecting less”. And so, one entrance exam to Salamanca’s university later, Jaime knew he was starting to walk the path of his future.

But while his passions were words formation, syntax and how the language had developed into today’s form; Isa had decided to study the career for a whole different reason.

It was clear that she felt completely herself when discussing novels and authors. Her essays on every single topic were excellent quality (even Jaime had to admit it) and they always provided a new, fresh way of thinking.

And maybe that's why some months ago, whatever they had agreed on had taken place.

Now, when the morning classes had already finished, Isa was already on the rooftop, a book in hand and a notebook resting on her legs.

“You are late. Again.” She remarked when she saw Jaime’s blond hair.

“Some of us have life, Isabel.” he answered in the same cold tone and took a seat in front of her.

“Being the teacher’s pet is not having a life.” They both held each other's gazes for a while, until instead of intimidating, they were staring.

The wind whooshed, making the students snap back.

Jaime cleared his throat and Isa focused on her book .“What are we revising today?” asked him.

She tapped the pages of her notebook with a pen. “Los Amantes de Teruel. Spanish version of Romeo and Juliet, I believe. Since you haven't finished it, even though it was due yesterday.” Isa added, a sassy remark included in her voice.

Jaime rolled his eyes.

Lovers of Teruel.

It is true that he had been stuck for three months in a 170 pages novel. But there were far more interesting things to do than read how two fools felt in love only to die at the end.

“I would've finished it if I hand’t been busy correcting someone’s homework.'' He remarked, as he searched for his own copy of the book inside his backpack.

Isa just scoffed, and gave him another “you are annoying” look. Jaime had to make an effort not to smile.

“You know? I wonder if those death stares are unically for me, like a personalized stare.”

“Oh, right, because you are so important in my life that I decided to give you an specific look whenever you say or do something stupid.”

“I mean… You asked me for help that day, so I guess I must be somewhat important, dear Isa.”

“I asked you for help?” she repeated, astonished “You were roaming this rooftop for weeks until I got fed up with how creepy it looked and told you to help me with that assignment, which, for the record, was perfect.”

That was true. Her assignment had been flawless, but Jaime would rather die than to admit that out loud.

“Are you planning on finishing this book with me or do you want to keep talking?” He grinned then “I’m sure there are a ton of other things you could use your mouth for, but I’d like to be prepared for my exam next week.”

Her slight blush felt like a personal win. Until she stroke back, of course.

“One: that is extremely gross, and I don’t want to know about the weird fantasies you have with my mouth. And two: it’s your turn ‘Diego’, so read.”

Since there was no point in reading plays in silence and to themselves, at the beginning of the book (three months ago), Jaime and Isa had divided the roles, taking the two main characters with them: he as Diego and her as Isabel.

“You were practically born for this role” had joked Jaime and Isa wondered how far from the ground they were… and how hard she would have to shove him.

They read some scenes out loud, stopping to make some points on the narrative, paraphrase or make a summary of what they got so far. If it was true that individually they worked really well, as a team it was almost magical.

“Kiss me, for I am dying” said Jaime/Diego for the second time. Isabel had just rejected his lover, since she had already married and didn’t wish to deceive her now husband.

“And then Diego dies because he can’t bear the pain that causes him not being able to love Isabel.” the girl closed her book, and got up, stretching “It’s late, we should go before the campus closes.”

Jaime nodded and tagged alone, but stayed quiet the whole time until they were about to leave the university.

Then, just before partying ways, the question escaped his lips “Would you kiss me if my life depended on it.?”

Both of them looked equally surprised. When he didn’t add anything else, Isa understood he was waiting for an answer.

Well, what do you answer when someone asks that without a warning?

If there’s one thing Isa had clear was that Jaime and her weren’t friends. They weren’t even study buddies! They were just two students of the same class who happened to help each other out every now and then…

And for what?

“Let’s be glad that it doesn't.” she finally said, and turned away, wanting to run as quickly as her legs could carry her.

Would you kiss me if my life depended on it?. Two college students were replaying the same question over and over in their heads. Tossing and turning, unable to sleep.

Isa didn’t have the guts to go back to the rooftop in the next few weeks. Since Jaime had handed in his essay on the novel, she had assumed he had finished it on his own.

That was good, right?

Now, both of them averted their eyes, and tried really hard not to cross paths.

What had been Jaime thinking when he asked that?! Oh right, he had been not thinking at all!

Still, not knowing the answer to the damn question was getting on his nerves. Not that he desperately wanted Isa to kiss him, that could never happen but…

Hypothetically he wanted to know.

Two weeks before finals, they both bumped into each other at the rooftop. Seeing Jaime’s figure -his back to her and his face to the orange sun-, made Isa stop on her tracks.

The door slammed closed and the guy turned around.

Awkwardness was all over the place.

“The library is super crowded and-” started to explain her. He nodded.

“I know, that’s why I’m here.”

A few minutes of silence and then:

“You finished the play.” commented Isa.

“Yeah, I did” Jaime rubbed his neck, nervous “Thanks for sharing your notes, by the way. They were really helpful.”

“Oh, um, no problem.”

“And, about that question…”

“It 's okay! You don’t have to explain anything.”

“No, really, I don’t know how it happened.”

“It’s fine, there’s no need to apologize, really.”

More silence in between them.

“I can go if you want me to.” offered then Jaime. She lifted up her gaze at him.

“The rooftop is big enough for the two of us, and I know you don't like studying at the library.”

Isa had been thinking about how much she noticed about Jaime without actually wanting to: his likes and dislikes, how he frowned slightly when there was a concept he was not following, his happy smiles whenever there was something he was pleased about…

He was grinning like that now.

“Earth calling Isa, are you there?” She blinked a few times.

“Yeah, totally. Here. Present.”

Jaime decided it was now or never.

He lifted up his hand, the one holding the book and showed it to her. "We never finished reading."

"You handed in your essay already. Why would we finish reading it?"

Clearly none of this was working. The guy slided his backpack on his shoulder. "I should go, Alejandro needs me for this book analysis-" he rambled.

"Go" Isa nodded and then smiled. "Teacher 's pet."

He just laughed awkwardly and headed out.

Isa had hated every single second of that conversation. Even if it's true they never had a friendly relationship, they had somewhat grown closer along the few months they had tutored each other.

What did Jaime really mean to her? He was insufferable sometimes, that's true. Arrogant in class and a stupid know-it-all…

But he was also brilliant. And he was kinder than he wanted to show: he had given her his jacket to go home when it was raining once; and even shared his notes with her when she had been sick.

The girl ran downstairs.

Jaime was about to go inside the teacher's office when she finally got to him. In a final effort after her sprint, she tried grabbing his arm.

The guy turned around, really surprised.

"Isa, what-"

"Ask me again." she demanded.

"What?"

"Ask. Me. Again" Isa pleaded out of breath. Her courage would flee anytime soon and then-

"Bésame, que me muero." he whispered.

Kiss me, for I'm dying.

Their lips touched.

"Do you like this ending better?" she asked after the kiss, a sly smile already forming.

He tipped his head back and laughed "Much better."

In Spain whenever someone mentions Lovers of Teruel, we have a saying that sort of finishes the sentence: stupid her and stupid him. Since they both die foolishly.

Luckily, we can assure that the sentence does not apply to Jaime nor Isa.