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wing-ed-thing · 2 years ago

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Senioritis: Table 4 (Hidan x Reader, Chapter VI)

Synopsis: You were officially stuck with Hidan for the last semester of your senior year of high school. You’re determined to spend as little time with the obnoxious flirt as possible.

Word Count: 4k

Tags/Warnings: Language, Characters are Legal Adults, Crude Humor, American!High School AU, Jock!Hidan, Nerd!Reader, Modern AU, Gender Neutral Reader, Mention of Adult Themes, Discussion of Sexual Themes, Bullying

Part I Part II Part III Part IV Part V Part VI

Notes: I had to start making my own gifs because I ran out of ones where Hidan looks like a normal person. I think this chapter was the longest so far at a whopping 4k! No wonder it took so long!

It turns out, you would talk longer.

You just didn’t expect Sasori to pick up your conversation four days later.

In your home.

Unannounced.

The door to your bedroom burst open, the knob hitting the wall with enough force to surely leave a dent. You shot up in your bed with a panicked shout, sleepy mind barely registering Sasori storming through the door. You made a panicked reach for the lamp on your nightstand. You wielded it, holding it over your head like a maniac (the plug also slipping out of the socket) before the situation sank into your tired brain.

“What the fuck?!” you screamed.

“I need to talk to you,” he demanded, voice ever-stern and matter of fact. You rubbed your eyes, blinking at Sasori’s medium sized form. He stood in the center of your room, hand on the strap of his backpack slung over his shoulder and otherwise unbothered. You were, on the other hand, very bothered. Sasori scoped out your room, idly and silently judging your collections of various knicknacks. You lowered your weapon, returning it to its spot by your bed before picking up your phone to check the time. “You should answer your door when someone knocks, you know. What if there was an emergency?”

“Is there an emergency?” You muttered some swear words under your breath. Sasori better have a good reason for showing up unannounced on a Sunday morning. You breathed a sigh of relief that you were fully clothed. In pajamas, but still clothed. Sasori’s knee bent at the slightest degree. The palm of his free hand motioned wildly in the air by his hip while he gritted his teeth.

“Yes, of course there is. Why else would I be talking to you right now?” You met his stare, but rolled your eyes as you passed him. An expression of bewilderment crossed Sasori’s pale features. He turned, looking in the direction in which you disappeared, jaw slacked. “And the key under the mat? It’s like you’re asking to get murdered in your sleep.” Sasori followed you to the doorway of your bathroom but stopped short as you partially closed the door, leaving only enough space to stick your head out.

“Sasori,” you snipped shortly. “If it’s not important, you can wait.”

You didn’t bother to look at his face as you closed the door. Sasori crossed his arms, shoulders tensing before sinking with a silent sigh. He leaned against the wall, opening his mouth before closing it. Sasori’s head hung down in resignation.

“I need advice.” Silence came from the other side of the door. Sasori shifted in acute annoyance. “I need advice about a—” He stopped short, getting acutely frustrated. — “Someone. I need advice about someone.” The bathroom door creaked open the slightest bit. A toothbrush stuck out from your lips as you gazed upon the redhead curiously.

“Sasori… are you asking me for dating advice?” Sasori scoffed, stood up straight and began to leave.

“Never mind.”

You turned towards the sink to spit before returning to the open door.

“You’re the one who came to me, you know,” you called before rinsing your toothbrush and placing it back in its spot. Sasori’s shuffle halted from a distance away. You drummed the pads of your fingers against the doorway, wondering if you should say anything else or if you should simply leave him to his thoughts. More often than not, Sasori usually figured his problems out by himself. You knew he preferred it that way.

Sasori hadn’t been a deliberate friend, but an appreciated and valued one nonetheless. He had always been around, a natural part of your life. After all, you and Deidara had always been close and Sasori was always around to eavesdrop and spit out a snarky comment when warranted. Granted, most of the time it was very much unwarranted, but one thing you had to admire about Sasori was his carefully aggressive honesty. And now you were all in high school. You were adults soon going off into the world and Sasori had somehow become one of your most trusted confidants— which he found easy considering he only listened to you half the time.

You went to change, still aware of the stillness in your home. Sasori hadn’t moved. Sasori and stubbornness came in a matching set. You had told him over the years that it would do him some good to open up a bit more, but as to be expected, he never listened to you. You almost felt bad for him and the irony was completely lost on you.

“For the low, low price of buying us lunch I will give you all the answers your little heart desires,” you said as you settled back into your room. A grumpy Sasori slowly slinked into your doorway. He crossed his arms, small patches of red blossoming on his face as he gritted his teeth. Always one to have the answers, Sasori looked completely lost. You could see it; his lack of direction was slowly eating away at him.

“No way I’m driving,” he muttered.

“Take out then. Get it delivered.”

“If we’re ordering in you pay the delivery fee and all that bullshit.” Sasori’s chest heaved, the gears in his head grinding as he weighed needing your help versus the dent you would leave in his wallet. He shook his head and, once again, invited himself into your bedroom. His backpack hit your floor with a thud and by the time you turned around, Sasori had already resigned himself to the massive carnival bear in the corner of your room. A little baggie from Deidara’s cafe peaked out from Sasori’s bag. You stood and snatched it before sitting down again next to the second broken man you’ve had to deal with that week. You sighed.

“So… how’d you meet?”

***

“Okay, but did he say ‘guess he wanted an easier challenge’ in… I don’t get that shit. How did he say it?” Sasori ran his hands through his hair which had been sprawled out on the giant teddy bear for the past two hours. His slender fingers gingerly avoided the borrowed bandana in his hair, ensuring that none of his red strands touched his face. You both still had ten minutes on your face masks. You reached for your phone.

“No, no.” You waved your hand nonchalantly. “This was over Instagram.”

“Show me.” Sasori made no effort to sit up from his lax posture. Rather, he stuck out his hand impatiently as you scrolled through your phone. You dropped it into his palm, ignoring the exaggerated sigh he let blow from his chest, and stuffed a french fry into your mouth. Sasori inspected the screen with a scowl before he made a motion to tap the screen. You almost made a motion to snatch your phone back.

“Hey, don’t accidentally call him,” you warned. Sasori peaked out from behind the screen, scowl ever-present. He sank deeper into the bear. The glow from your phone increased, making Sasori’s mud mask glint.

“Why would I call him?” He tapped the screen some more, despite the fact that the whole of your and Obito’s conversation barely took up the length of the phone. Sasori lowered it, eyebrows scrunched in scrutiny. “You replied ‘thank you’?” You rolled your eyes with a groan and flopped down onto a small hoard of random pillows you accumulated.

“I didn’t know what to say, okay? Sue me.” Sasori tossed your phone back. You recoiled as it hit the stuffed animal in front of your face with a gentle thump. Sasori plucked a chip from the reserve that sat neatly on a napkin on his chest. He chewed in contemplation, still quiet. “So, do you think he was trying to be a dick, or—?” Sasori shook his head.

“Obito’s always a dick.” He inspected a few more chips, holding them by the sides so as to not get salt on the pads of his fingers. From what you’ve observed, only particular shapes were acceptable to the National Honors Society’s grumpiest tutor. He reached up and tentatively patted his cheek, causing green to stain his skin. “Is it time to take these off?”

“—No, we have a few more minutes— I haven’t even talked to Obito before. Like maybe once or twice but not enough for… whatever that was. What do you think Hidan was playing at?” Sasori heaved himself up, his little napkin of chip pieces neatly gathered between his fingers. His hair stuck up in different directions around his head like a tired halo.

“You put the wrong time in the timer. I can feel my skin drying up.” Sasori ignored you as he stood and made his way to the bathroom in the hallway. You couldn’t say you were surprised, but you nonetheless couldn’t help but gape a bit. You scrambled up and followed him, messages still pulled up as you gestured to the countdown clock.

“The package said twelve minutes and I put in exactly twelve minutes.” Sasori had already found the face towels. You stood in the doorway, tapping your foot. Arms crossed, you stuck up your nose. “I was thinking that they were playing some sort of… disgusting game.” Sasori shrugged.

“Could be.” He rinsed his face. Your heart sank, the pang of disappointment hitting you directly in your chest. You tried not to let your face fall. Little did you realize that Sasori’s honey-color eyes were studying you through the mirror. “Or maybe—” He averted his gaze. —“Obito’s being a dick like I tried to tell you earlier. Thinks he’s hot shit. Watches too much anime which is an oxy-fuckin-moron.” Sasori’s towel landed on the edge of your plastic laundry basket. “Have you tried talking to him yet?”

You cast your gaze down. Yeah, Sasori assumed as much.

“He’s just gonna lie.”

Then your timer went off.

Sasori quietly traded places with you. He snatched up another face towel and handed it to you wordlessly. The running water made up for the silence caused by your jumbled thoughts and feelings. Sasori watched as you washed your own face, not making his judgemental thoughts known. At least he knew when he was being stupid.

“I didn’t know you had a crystal ball.” You looked up at him, puzzled. Small droplets of water ran down your forehead and cheeks as you rubbed the cloth together under the running water. Sasori crammed himself diagonally in the wooden doorway, leaning similarly to the way he had done before. His back rubbed up vertically along the frame. His socks dragged along the lowest hinge. Sasori shoved his hands in his pockets. “I’m just saying, that’s some confident fortune-telling.”

You dried your skin.

Sasori continued to loiter as you were once again overtaken with your own thoughts. He eyed you from his peripheral, and when you were ready, you met his gaze. He offered you a single nod and you knew that Sasori had already given you his advice before and this would be the last of it. But you had one last feeling that needed validation.

“Mr. Nara talked to me this week. He asked me if I was okay.” Sasori hummed, a small sign that he was listening despite abundant body language implying otherwise. You leaned, palms on the edge of your sink as you sifted through your words. “I guess some of the teachers were concerned, you know, with the confrontation between Hidan and me. I didn’t think much of it, you know, other than the public sort of embarrassment.” Sasori offered a slow nod before adjusting his posture within the doorframe.

“Makes sense.”

You sighed. You needed to lay down. You stepped over his diagonally angled legs. Sasori trailed behind you, quietly sitting back against the bear as you flopped back down on your assortment of pillows. Sasori patiently waited. You paused, an attempt to collect yourself. A deep breath pumped into your lungs and back out.

“... Am I not seeing something I should?” You propped yourself up, finding a section of your wall to stare at. “He seemed so mad, but it didn’t feel like… I didn’t feel like it was a ‘big deal’ per se. I didn’t even think anything of it until Mr. Nara asked.” You sighed, turning back to Sasori. “Does that make me stupid?” Sasori shook his head.

“You’re not stupid,” he said in a gentle voice. He curved one knee inward and wrapped his arms around the other. The headband he wore still made his hair stick up. “You’re afraid of getting hurt, and that’s okay, but don’t kill yourself over not knowing every little thing. You’re eighteen you’re supposed to be—” Sasori stopped himself short. He took a deep breath. “You’re human. A smart one, and you can make your own decisions without getting in your own way.” Sasori looked to the side, clearly not used to monologuing. He had, after all, always been one to keep his cards to himself. “We’ve all known each other for a long time and you know Hidan a bit better than me but… your anxiety, concern from those around you are meant to keep you safe, like a car alarm. You get to decide whether the situation warrants an alarm. I know stupid… and I don’t think that’s stupid.”

You relaxed into your mass of pillows, finally letting the breath you’ve been holding escape your lungs. You didn’t even realize that you were holding your breath in the first place. Sasori cleared his throat. He grit his teeth together, looking away as he once again outstretched his hand.

“Now pass the fucking hummus.” You sat back, letting the weight of your head fall as you felt around for the container. Wordlessly, you passed it to Sasori who took it from you with exaggerated annoyance. You sat together: just you breathing and Sasori destroying your supply of hummus. Sasori polished off his energy drink.

“And if you ever decide the opposite—” You looked at him, but he still had his head turned. —“You have people who support you… Not me, but others.” A small smile began to break out across your lips.

“Thank you, Sasori. That was very profound of you.” He waved you off, once again resigning himself to sink further into your carnival bear. His arms coiled over his chest as the collar of his shirt overlapped the bottom of his face. Sasori offered yet another nod in agreement. You finally allowed yourself to relax. “You know, you’re beginning to sound a lot like Deidara.”

“Fuck you.”

***

Hidan’s house was much more quaint than you expected it to be. Even in the dimness, you could make out its features. A long, cobblestone path led up to the black, front door. Tiny patches of grass and moss grew between the rocks. The lawn itself was rather large compared to the size of the house, the mowing neat around two trees that sat on each side of the path. The house glowed white in the darkness of the evening striking a stark contrast with the black shutters on the windows. A little pinwheel teetered before the three concrete front steps.

You made your way to the side of the house, encountering another tree. It had been a long time since you climbed a tree. In fact, you couldn’t name the last time you did. Perhaps elementary school. A glow of golden light illuminated the white curtains of the living room. You pulled yourself up onto one of the lower branches, struggling the slightest bit as you tried not to let the leaves shake too violently. A light was on in the second level window. You gripped the branch above you, gingerly making your way onto the roof. You pinched the stool of the window, shifting your weight to land firmly on the shingles, hoping that you had the right room.

You did. You spied Hidan inside, hunched over and scribbling down on some papers on his lap. His leg shook, bouncing up and down as he contemplated. His other hand played with a few strands of hair at the back of his head.

Tap tap tap.

Hidan’s head shot up. He looked in the opposite direction briefly before turning towards the window. Confusion completely overtook his face. Hidan squinted, only shifting his weight slightly on his comforter but he made no effort to move to the window. Your heart hitched in your throat, palpitating in a way that could have made you burst. As you met his stare, you also noticed your reflection in the reflection of the window. You barely took in your own wide eyes before your breath fogged up the glass.

Hidan slowly stood, moving his items off his lap and onto his bed. He approached the window tentatively, shoving one hand in the pocket of his sweatpants. You watched as he pulled on the lift. He just stood in front of you. A bit of hope glittered in his colored pupils, but for once, Hidan remained silent. Outside his window, sitting on his roof, was the last place he would have expected you, and a large, dominant part of him wondered why you were there. The sound of crickets rang clear to Hidan’s ears. Fireflies lit up the lawn below, sparkling periodically like living fairy lights.

You didn’t know what to say. You thought about it a lot on your way over, but as you sat, face to face with Hidan, you found yourself at a complete loss for words. Every mental script had completely vanished. He stood in front of you, almost expressionless and it made you nervous.

“Do you have feelings for me?”

You inwardly cringed at how the question came out. The words even made you squint, the sides of your mouth turning downward as you shrunk down in embarrassment. Hidan took a deep intake as he opted to study the ground. He scratched the back of his head, his hand lingering there as he attempted to respond.

“Uh… yeah, I mean I guess.”

His words struck you straight through the heart. This had to be the most humiliating thing you had ever subjected yourself to, but you nodded quietly to yourself. You, after all, were determined to get answers, so you resisted the urge to launch yourself back into your climbing tree to make a beeline for your car. You gulped.

“What do you mean ‘you guess’?” Hidan’s palm rubbed at his cheek and up his temple. He shifted once again.

“I mean—” A million different endings to that sentence ran through your head. Maybe he had been joking all along. Or maybe he wasn’t looking for anything serious. You were, after all, about to graduate in a month and likely go in different directions. Maybe he just wanted sex you were told that every other eighteen year old guy wanted. Maybe he realized that he really did like Kona— “I just thought it was obvious.”

You realized that you had been spacing out and you immediately snapped back to reality. You blinked in rapid succession at the outcome that you never suspected. He rolled his shoulder, head tilting to one side. Never in your life did you think you would have been overwhelmed by such sheer emotion at Hidan’s confession of affection towards you let alone be at peace with your reciprocation.

“This isn’t just a game.” Right? A question spoken with the intonation of a statement. You didn’t like what Obito said to you and repeating it always sounded cheesy on your lips, but the doubt those words left lingered at the forefront of your mind. Hidan’s brows furrowed, his arms coming to coil over his chest. He stared at you with a certain intensity that you weren’t used to. The apparent confusion, well, you were used to that.

“Why would you think that?”

The sound of crickets sang in the background. You hummed a few more crutch words.

“I, um… I just heard about stuff with you and Konan… and I… um…”

And as Hidan began to laugh, your words finally died on your lips. A blistering heat spread from your face to your shoulders as your insides ached. The undersides of your arms felt sweaty. You shifted, ready to climb back down to the ground, but too shocked to move. Hidan sighed, a smile plastered on his lips. He leaned, sticking his upper half out the window.

“You’ve been jealous. That’s what this has been about this whole time?”

“I’m not jealous!” You snipped back, but even your defensiveness was void of any malice. Hidan’s gaze remained locked onto you and you found yourself looking away. The sun barely peaked over the horizon, leaving a scarlet hue in its wake. The light cast over the neighborhood. “I just want to know what it is that you want.” Hidan smiled his usual smile: goofy and confident.

“I’m into you. I told you that last week.” You blinked at him, the whiplash feeling increasingly physical by the moment. Mentally, you replayed the past week in your head as you wondered how you could possibly miss that.

“When?” you annunciated. Hidan cocked his head at you, a few stray strands of hair flopping to the side. His light-colored brows scrunched up again for the umpteenth time that night.

“I just told you: last week. Remember? You were all pissed off?” You rolled your eyes.

“Yeah, when you called me a bitch.”

“No,” Hidan said with a shake of his head, “I said that I’d never had a bitch of my own, implying that I would like to have—” He gestured to you widely with a toothy grin. —“said bitch. Like Jay-Z and Kanye. It’s really the most underrated song on the album.”

You ran your hands through your hair, trying to wrap your head around the missed reference. You shook your head back and forth, hoping to reset your hyper focused thoughts. Hidan paid you no mind; he had seen you do it many times before. You shifted a bit on the roof.

“So to make sure we’re in agreement,” you proclaimed in a voice that Hidan most often heard during class. “There’s a mutual—”

— “Damn, you really are analytical twenty-four-seven…” Hidan sighed and you gave him a pointed glare. He stretched: a telltale sign of Hidan’s restlessness. You ignored it, as you had also seen him do it many times before. He spoke as nonchalantly as usual.

“You didn’t let me finish.” You rolled your eyes as you began to rise. You reached back, grabbing onto a sturdy branch before making your way back into the leaves. You met Hidan’s bright stare and for once a peaceful confidence rose in your chest. “Come pick me up at my place this Friday at seven.” Hidan nodded rapidly, still halfway out the window.

“Yeah,” he beamed. “Sure thing.”

“Don’t be late.”

You didn’t even think you looked back at Hidan as you scaled the tree. You ran across his lawn, fireflies blinking around you as your heart pounded in your chest. As you rounded the corner, you could hardly make out your car in the blue-colored dimness of the evening. Your hands fumbled for the keys in your pocket and when you finally sat inside, you let out a gleeful scream.

Thank you to all who liked, reblogged, followed and otherwise supported. Your support means so much and is greatly appreciated.

I was going to end it next chapter but I think I’d like to go longer with this one.

Table Four (Hidan x Reader), Part I Part II Part III Part IV Part V Part VI

Table Two (Deidara x Reader)

Senioritis: Lab (Sasori x Reader) Part I

@brokennerdalert

#Hidan x reader #naruto x reader #hidan #Akatsuki x reader #akatsuki #naruto x you #naruto x y/n #naruto scenario #naruto scenarios #naruto imagine #naruto imagines #naruto headcanon #naruto headcanons #naruto #reader insert #x reader #Senioritis: Table 4 #senioritis: Hidan

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weartirondad · 6 years ago

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And You Would Smile (And That Would Be Enough) 5/6

5 times Tony helps pull Peter away from an anxiety built cliff and the 1 time Peter is on his own. (part i, part ii part iii, part iv, part vi)

FF.net I ao3

Peter’s vision was swimming.

He blinked once, twice, three times before the world shifted again and came back into focus.

The teenager was standing in a dark corridor with coppery walls. Or where was the taste in his mouth coming from? His left hand reached out to touch his mouth only to find his skin hitting the cool fabric of his Spider-Man suit. He must be wearing the mask, he realized, and let his hands drop to his side at his find.

If he was in the suit then he must be on a mission. There must be something more important going on than finding out where the coppery taste was coming from.

Peter narrowed his eyes, frantically beating heart settling when his suit complied with the movement. There was always a scarcely audible whirring to be heard when the suit’s eyes moved. It was familiar. Calming. His suit was working so he had to be relatively safe. He was Spider-Man after all and he had a suit with the latest Stark technology.

Some of the fear that had taken up residence in his stomach left his body with his next exhale.

“Hello?” he called out and flinched when his voice echoed through the empty hallway, bouncing off the walls until eventually fading into silence once more. “Someone home?”

His feet started moving, hesitantly at first and then more decisively when nothing bad seemed to happen. The sound of his footsteps lingered in the air, making a weirdly uncomfortable melody that trailed behind him and raced him to go faster, to reach the end of the hall.

Peter knew that he had to reach the end of the hall. There was a soft blue light coming from the door this corridor led to and that light felt important. It was his mission to reach the light that was pulsating at a steady frequency. Somehow, he felt that the light needed his protection.

He had almost reached the door with the light when his enhanced hearing picked up on a painful huff. With the scream the light pulses became more erratic, too, urging him on. The sound sent chills through his entire body and, when his brain registered just why the voice sounded so familiar, it ripped straight through his heart, leaving him feeling raw and helpless.

“Tony?” he called, his wobbly voice echoing from the walls, mocking him in tiny whispers from a million different directions. He strained his ears to pick up on a reply but there was nothing.

He had almost convinced himself that his senses were playing a trick on him when the sound came back, a lot closer and sounding a lot more in pain. The light stuttered slightly before returning to a steady but faster pace.

Without a second thought he ran the last distance until his hand was on the door knob, his last obstacle before reaching the blue light and his mentor. He thrusted the door open with all his might, not caring when the wood splintered and the force took it off its hinges.

There, separated from him through a glass pane, sat Tony. The light of the arc reactor in his chest filling the room with an absurd calm considering how weakly it fluttered just then.

For an unbearable second Peter was afraid it would fade completely.

But Tony was still breathing, although the rales that he picked up on through the pane didn’t sound very encouraging. He ran forward, willing the blue light to keep pulsating and his mentor to look up.

“Tony!” he screamed, fists hitting the glass pane over and over again, yet it wouldn’t budge. Not even a crack in the smooth surface. The refraction of light through the glass looked mockingly beautiful. As if it was any condolence for Peter as long as Tony was still barely breathing. As long as he still looked mostly dead.

“Please, Tony! Look at me,” he cried again, not caring about the tears that slipped out and ran down his cheeks. His hands were busy trying to make it through to his mentor.

Please don’t be dead. Please don’t be dead. Please –

A shudder went through the billionaire’s entire body then and there was nothing he could do but pray for the light to keep glowing and – oh god, his limbs were flailing uncontrollably and his head kept hitting the hard cot until the spasm died done.

Peter screamed. Tony looked up. Their eyes met.

“Tony!” he tried again to get through to the pane, not knowing how much the older man could pick up. His eyes widened and at first Peter was so sure it was in recognition but then he tried to scramble away from him in fear, rattling at the metallic cuffs constraining him to the cot and Peter had to watch in horror when he struggled enough to turn the cot on its side. Tony fell but he didn’t seem to care, fearful eyes still looking up at Peter.

“No! I- It’s me, Tony!” he cried out, pulling off the mask in a swift motion but before his mentor could see his face, his attention was otherwise occupied

Captain America had entered the room, lips curling up in a humorless snarl that made a shiver run down Peter’s spine. He looked positively evil when he turned to look at Peter for the fraction of a second before squatting down next Tony to all but throw the cot back up again.

Tony’s fear was replaced by anger. His eyes were flashing with unadulterated rage in a way Peter had never ever seen and his fists were curling at his sides, struggling to fight free once more.

“I trusted you,” he spit out but Captain America only laughed when Tony coughed up blood and gunk.

Before Captain America could get a word out, Peter was yelling again, doubling the forces of his punches against the glass until – finally – a crack.

“Don’t hurt him,” he kept screaming, “Don’t you fucking touch him. Don’t- Tony!”

Without batting an eye Cap slammed down his shield onto the weakly fluttering light and Peter, still on the other side of the pane, could do nothing but watch and scream and riot when it flickered before going black.

The American superhero was towering over the lifeless form of the man that had become his family and, without so much as looking at Peter, he turned and left Tony behind.

Peter was frozen.

Then he crumbled.

“No!” He cried out over and over again, to no avail. “No, Tony! Tony! Don’t! Noo-“

Suddenly there was a strong grip on his shoulders but he was too far gone. He didn’t want anyone to comfort him. He wanted Tony to be alive. He wanted-

With all his might he struggled against the other person’s hands until he heard a curse.

“Dammit, kid.”

“Tony.”

“Right here, buddy. Go on, open your eyes. Admire the shiner you gave your old man.”

The teenager came back to himself slowly, blinking warily against the bright lights until he could get his eyes to focus on the person in front of him. The air left his lungs in a painful gasp. “Tony.” Before he could grab at the man, he was already sitting down beside him, inviting Peter to curl around his upper body. Which he did without hesitation.

He was still shaking and the image – it had seemed so real, so final.

Tony held him while he cried, his heartbeat steady and not connected to any sort of blueish light. It still had time. So much time.

Tony was really here. He could feel the calloused fingers against the soft skin of his neck and smell the motor oil and his cologne. He could hear his even breathing and the very real taste of his salty tears. And when he blinked, Tony was looking at him with the softest expression he had ever seen, only marred by the deep lines of worry on his face.

“Better?” he asked after a moment and Peter nodded but didn’t make a move to uncurl from the billionaire.

“You wanna talk about it?” The voice didn’t really leave room for him to actually deny. Postpone maybe but not completely deny.

He shrugged instead and settled his cheek more firmly against his mentor’s chest, letting his eyes drop close to the feeling of being secure and both of them being away from harm.

“Saw Cap hurt you,” he mumbled into the soft fabric of Tony’s t-shirt, half hoping the man hadn’t heard him, half hoping for reassurance that the guy clad in the American flag hadn’t really done any harm.

“Oh buddy, you’re having nightmares about that now?” Tony’s voice was soft but sad as his fingers skillfully rubbed the nape of his neck, “I told you it’s going to be fine. I thought me allowing you to tag along would help you relax a little. Maybe it was a bad ide-“

“No,” Peter interrupted him, arms coming up to hold onto his mentor back more tightly, “No, it’s not a bad idea, I promise.”

“Okay,” Tony said reluctantly but didn’t further comment on it, opting to distract him from the lingering horror of his nightmare instead. “You wanna go in there as New York’s favorite vigilante in spandex or like a normal human being?”

Despite himself Peter cracked a smile. It faded the second he remembered the fear in Tony’s eyes in his nightmare. He shuddered. “N-not in the suit,” he said quietly, “If that’s okay?”

The older man paused the massage on his scalp, clearly trying to figure out what was wrong with the suit, but eventually shrugged and resumed what he was doing. “Sure thing, kiddo. I’ll introduce you as my genius intern who’s freaking out about meeting the Avengers for the first time. We might be able to score you an autograph.”

“You suck.” Peter slapped Tony’s chest lightly, his words holding no force. “I’d like going in as Peter Parker,” he yawned, making himself more comfortable in Tony’s hold. He smiled when the other man adjusted his position, clearly not intending to leave Peter alone for now.

“Sleep, kid. Tomorrow’s gonna be a big day for both of us.”

---

I'm sorry! Peter was supposed to meet the rest of the Avengers in this chapter but I couldn't physically bring myself to write the words. I tried like three times but it just wouldn't work. I'm really sorry because I know people were looking forward to that but I would've messed it up and I kind of actually liked the dream sequence so I'm leaving you with this. x

#irondad #irondad fic #tony stark #peter parker #josis fic #and you would smile (and that would be enough)#ugh tho #5 + 1 fic

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findtheloveofmylife · 6 years ago

Text

Something Stupid (IV)

Pairing: Roger Taylor x OC (Lily Hathaway)

Summary: He was not the type to pine or whatever you wanted to call it. It usually was the opposite, they pined for him, they wanted to be with him, which is probably why he was way out of his element with her.

Author’s Note: Sorry this took a while. I accidentally deleted this chapter and I had to start from scratch again (but it’s okay, it’s here). It’s a little short but I think that’s fine, I just needed to get this part over.

I mention a while back that if anyone’s interested in being tagged for this story, messaged me so I can add you to the tag list :)

Part I // Part II // Part III // Part IV

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Before the whole Lily situation, it wasn't uncommon for Roger to be with a girl for a few weeks or months. It was rare when he was with someone more than a year. One girl, in particular, Kathy, fell in the category of a few weeks. And the reason he even remembered her was because of Lily and her uncanny ability to make everything go back to her.

Like most girls, Roger had met Kathy at a bar after their band had played, and well, he had liked her enough to have her stick around. He wasn’t her boyfriend and she wasn’t her girlfriend, it was just something casual. She was just another girl that he would soon forget about, as horrible it sounded.

Everyone was so used to Roger’s casual approach to romance that he didn’t think anyone would say something about his current relationship with Kathy. But of course, that didn’t happen this time around. Lily had to say something about it.

He was slowly realizing how nosy Lily was when it comes to people’s love life. A prime example being Lily’s obsession with trying to set up John, who refused to go on dates with the girls Lily always suggested (everyone was pretty sure John refused just to spite her). So, Roger should’ve known that he would fall victim of her nosiness at one point.

It happened one afternoon when Roger decided to show up extra early to practice because he wanted to try something new in his set and didn’t want any of the guys inputting their ‘helpful’ suggestions. The first person to arrive had been Lily. He was surprised to see her alone, she usually showed up with John by her side, but gave her a nod in acknowledgment.

“Hello, hello,” Lily said as she took a seat on the nearest couch. “Why are you here alone? Where’s your girlfriend?”

Roger ignored her greeting and frowned. “What?”

“Kathy,” she elaborated, discarding her jacket and folding it neatly.

“She’s not my girlfriend,” he said quickly.

“Really?” she said and when he nodded, she did a poor job hiding her surprise. “Hmm.”

“What now?” he said irritatedly, not liking the condescending tone Lily used.

“I didn’t say anything,” she said innocently, making him give her a glare. She relented easily. “Alright, Alright. Is just that... are you sure Kathy's not your girlfriend?”

“I would know if I had a girlfriend.”

Lily laughed loudly as if that had been the funniest joke she’s heard and shook her head. “No, you wouldn’t.”

“What do you mean I wouldn’t?” he demanded.

“Sometimes guys are the last to know.” Lily smiled at him. “And something tells me that you’re not the person that is self-aware of their feelings.”

He was offended at that, which honestly he shouldn’t have. He had no idea how right she was going to be.

“Kathy and are not in a relationship,” he repeated firmly.

“Alright,” she said and glanced around the studio. Something caught her attention and she stood up, going towards a chair. She picked up a sweater and examined it. Roger looked at her cautiously, she turned around, still holding the sweater. “Is this Kathy’s?”

“I don't, I think so,” he said slowly.

“Isn't this where you typically dumped all your stuff?”

“Yes.”

“You know, I leave my stuff in my boyfriend's locker all that time,” she said casually, putting down the sweater and going towards Roger, who sighed in exasperation.

“Kathy is not my girlfriend.”

“Then why would Kathy leave a sweater in an area that is specifically yours if she's not your girlfriend?”

Roger opened his mouth but closed it, shaking his head. “Maybe someone moved it,” he finally said.

“Maybe,” she agreed easily. She glanced around the room again but made no move to go back to the couch. Her face was set in a frown as if she was concentrating something really hard on something. Roger had seen her wear that look often when she was about to do something that would annoy John and amuse Freddie.

“Why isn't John here?” he asked, feeling the need to distract Lily. Her head snapped towards him, taken back by his question.

“He forgot something home, so he told me to meet you guys here,” she explained. “Where's Kathy?”

Fuck. So much for distracting Lily.

“I don't know,” he answered honestly. He hadn't spoken with Kathy since he last saw her, which happened to be the previous night.

“Why do you think she's not your girlfriend?”

“Why do you think she's my girlfriend?” he shot back.

Lily brightened at that. “I am so glad you asked me that. Let’s review your guy's history, shall we?”

“Please don’t,” he sighed. If Lily was questioning his relationship with Kathy, he was certain that Kathy herself would start asking questions about them and he didn’t need that. “Why do you care if I have a girlfriend? Are you that bored with the American?”

“No, I’m not. I’m very happy with him, thanks for asking. Deacy says that I’m just annoying and nosy.”

“Yeah, you are annoying and nosy and irritating,” he agreed.

She didn’t seem to be bothered hearing that. “Anyways, going back to you. There's a lot of signs that show you're in a relationship, and I am positive that you and Kathy meet many of them.”

“I doubt it,” he said flatly.

“Oh, you would be surprised,” Lily disagreed. “Have you guys seen each other more than four days a week?”

“I’m not doing this,” he warned her.

She continued as if he hadn’t spoken. “I’m going with yes because I’ve seen you three times this week and so far she’s been by your side each time and it’s only Thursday.”

Roger glared at Lily.

“Has she met all your friends? Again, I’m going with yes because you literally only hang out with the guys. Seriously, do any of you guys have friends outside of this group?”

Roger continued glaring at Lily.

“Does she spend the night? Wait. That’s a stupid question. Of course, she does.”

Roger grunted.

“Do you guys do more things besides having sex?”

Roger shook his head in disbelief. She needed to stop talking. She was making too much sense for his liking.

“Do you look forward to seeing her?”

Roger really wanted to shut Lily up.

“Do you notice when she’s not around?”

Roger wondered how upset would John be if he threw his drum kit at Lily.

“Ooh, do you love her?” she asked teasingly.

“Lily,” he gritted through his teeth, his finger curl around his drumsticks tightly. Lily seemed to notice that he was reaching the end of his patience and raised her hands in surrender. When she started heading back in the couch, Roger thought he had heard the end of it, but of course, it was Lily he was talking about.

“Your lack of answers is an answer itself. I know that you and Kathy check off at least half of it.”

“Goddammit,” he said under his breath.

“Whether you like it or not, she’s your girlfriend, dude.”

“Dude?”

“Matt says that’s it’s almost the same thing at mate,” she explained.

“Matt’s an idiot,” Roger said flatly.

“But he’s my idiot,” Lily said fondly and Roger knew at that moment, no matter what requirements they checked off, that Kathy wasn’t (and would probably never be) his girlfriend because there wasn’t that fondness between Kathy and him that Lily had with her American.

“Hmm,” Roger grunted, making Lily smiled at him.

“I like Kathy,” Lily admitted. “She’s... nice.”

“You think everyone is nice.”

“That’s not true. I think you’re an asshole,” she corrected him, making him smile despite his irritation at her. “But going back to Kathy, to be honest, the reason I like her is that I feel like you're less temperamental with her around.”

“What does that mean?”

“Means fewer things have been thrown.”

“I’m about to change that if you don’t stop talking Kathy,” he warned her, wagging a drumstick at her menacingly.

“Alright, I get it, she’s not your girlfriend. I am no longer going to say something.”

Roger doubted she would keep her promises but nodded gratefully at her. “Finally something smart comes out of your mouth.”

“Excuse you, I am very smart.”

“If you say so,” he said mockingly, making Lily make a rude hand gesture towards him. John appeared seconds later, looking out of breath and went straight to Lily.

“What’s going on?” he asked, not missing the annoyed look on Roger’s face.

“Nothing that should worry you,” Lily said and pulled on his arm excitedly. “But I do have something to talk to you about.”

“Oh no,” John said, pulling away from her grip. “I know what it is and I don’t want to hear it. I said no three times already.”

“No, no, no it’s not about Alice. I promise you,” she assured him, making John stop trying to get away from her.

“What is it then?” he asked suspiciously.

“Are you free this Saturday? I wanted to invite you to dinner with me and Matt.”

“Oh, right.” John was silent for a long moment, making Roger glance over at them. John look like was struggling to find an excuse and still annoyed at Lily, Roger found himself speaking up.

“John can't go. We’re going out to this bar on Saturday.”

“Are you kidding me?” Lily said, looking at John skeptically, who nodded quickly.

“Roger didn’t really give me much of choice,” he said, shrugging.

“Oh.” Lily looked disappointed but nodded. “That’s alright. Another night then.”

“Sorry, Lils,” John said, sounding as if he was truly sincere about being supposedly busy that night. “Maybe next week. I promise I won’t make plans.”

“Fine,” Lily said shortly, and promptly left the room. Roger looked at John curiously, and not surprisingly, John was too busy fiddling with his guitar to look over at him or Lily. Roger didn't get a chance to question him because soon everyone showed up, and the band started rehearsal.

Sometime between breaks, Roger had barely noticed that Kathy had shown up, and was talking to Lily and Mary. He felt a twinge annoyance at her announced appearance but he didn’t let her know when she approached him during one of their breaks.

“Did you leave your jacket?” he asked her.

“Oh, yeah, I did,” Kathy said, glancing over where it was. “Why? Is it not there anymore?”

“Its there. Just don’t leave it again,” he said tersely and went back to his drums.

And that’s number four, Lily’s cheery voice sounded in the back of his head as he went home with Kathy at the end of rehearsal.

A week later he broke things off with Kathy.

It wasn’t because of the conversation he had with Lily, no matter what exasperated look she gave him when he showed up with a new girl a few days later. His reasoning behind it was that he wasn’t as interested in Kathy as he was in the beginning. He didn’t want to do something stupid like start ignoring her calls or be caught fooling around with another girl.

Like he had said, it wasn’t unusual for him to move on from girl to girl in a span of few days. He wasn’t a relationship person, unlike Freddie or Brian, or even Lily. Which is probably why he didn’t see how much Lily’s pesky questions had stuck in the back of his head.

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Tag List:

@the-freak-cassie-131, @goingslightlymaaad, @verkyun

#roger taylor imagine #roger taylor x oc #roger taylor x reader #ben hardy as roger taylor #roger taylor #ben hardy #bohemian rhapsody

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asexualmew · 7 years ago

Text

Learning Disabled and How The American Public School System Failed Me

Arc I - Special Ed

Okay, so I’m learning disabled. The earliest age they can actually test for that sort of thing, with the exception of speech tests which was done much earlier, was in 2nd grade, but it was apparent before then, too. I was put into multiple Special Ed type classes.

Alphaphonics

Some English class? Different from Alphaphonics?

A Math class

Speech therapy

Apart from speech therapy that I had started when I was 2 years old and continued to sometime at the end of 4th grade when I finally graduated, these classes felt...

Pointless.

I mean, there was definitely a need for special education, but the way my elementary school went about it, it felt absolutely useless. I can’t even remember doing any work in my English class. I remember once the teacher read to us a book, and another time the teachers wanted to see if glasses with tinted colours could help me read better, but for the most part, this “English” class was just used as a free time for us kids. We’d just hang out and play lots of games.

Alphaphonics was particularly awful due to its repetition, and it wasn’t until I was an adult trying to explain to my friend how redundant and awful it was that I discovered that it really was a bullshit class, in the sense that it was a ciriculum made by an ableist man that went around trying to sell off this bullshit to schools and not many schools took the bait, but mine did. Every single day from 2nd grade to the end of elementary school, we spent the mornings cycling through flashcards, “U. Umbrella. OO. Book. OO. Moon.” Etc. Every day. For years.

And then the math class... That class did do something. Just. Not efficiently enough, I think.

Now, before I go on in this story, I want to stress that at this time I was a lawful-good goody-goody-tooshoos that was afraid of breaking a single rule in class. I was also nearly a straight A student, with a couple of B’s hanging out here or there. Thinking about that annoying teachers pet in elementary school? Good, that was me.

Okay well, this math class, this special ed class, it was patronizing as all get out! We were so behind the regular class and where they were in math. And it wasn’t because we weren’t doing well or learning the material, it’s because the teacher kept kiddy gloves on while teaching us, constantly, and she kept us behind. We’d be working on work sheets with subtraction of larger numbers, and all of us at my table would make a 100% on it... but meanwhile, at that very moment, the regular math class, the students were already on basic division.

And this was upsetting. Especially given just how often you have to be told by the grown ups around you that “You’re not stupid! You’re just special! You’re.. you’re GIFTED!” when you know that you’re just being told this to placate you, and you feel worlds behind all the “normal kids”. It doesn’t mean anything to be told that you’re not stupid, when you’re taught that grades represent your worth as a child, and you’re not even being taught the same things as the other kids your age. Being “gifted” means literally nothing when you know there’s no worth to those words.

So, being a typically quiet child who always raises their hand to speak in class and who always does the “right thing”, one day I just snapped.

Arc II - Hey! Teacher! Leave those kids alone!

I stood on the table and yelled at my special ed teachers in that math class. How DARE they treat us like we’re stupid! WE’RE NOT STUPID! We’re smart just like everyone else! We already learned this stuff months ago!! But you don’t let us move on to the next thing! We’re NOT STUPID! WE’RE NOT STUPID! STOP TREATING US LIKE WE’RE STUPID! I wanna learn what everyone else is learning! WE’RE NOT STUPID!

All of the other kids in class cheered and wooted, but the head teacher in that class was livid. I know she tried her best to make sure we didn’t feel stupid, with words like “gifted” and all that, but actions were louder than words, and I wasn’t very remorseful to her hard work. She asked me if I wanted to leave Special Ed. If I wanted to be dumped in normal class. She told me I’d fail. That I would want to come back. But I was determined, and my pride was hurt, and I wanted to be treated normal. So, she arranged it so that I was no longer in Special Ed for math. (Where was my mom in all this? I forget!)

It was 5th grade and I was very much so behind the regular class. I was given no bridge to prepare me for division. I mean, I eventually learned multiplication and division, and, my poor teacher tried to help me all she could but, I was already beginning to fall like a rock. I went from getting consistent A’s to consistent F’s. I was heartbroken.

This is when I first discovered my perfectionist tendencies, and, also, the first time those tendencies began to ruin my life. Because I couldn’t do it. And I gave up. I stopped doing my homework, first in math, then in everything. I tried what I could in class, but I never reached high. I just... gave up and quit. But I refused to go back to special ed. I’d prefer to fail on my own.

Arc III - Conspiracy

Finally, 7th grade. Middle school. I was gonna start a new here! I wouldn’t be bullied, I wouldn’t be a failure, I would do my best! Clean slate!

Well. The principle of this middle school approached me at some point. “I noticed in your papers that you were in special ed in elementary school, but then you got out? Would you like to be listed as learning disabled to make school here a little easier for you?”

Honestly, I didn’t know what that would mean, how it would be “easier”, but I knew is that I wanted nothing to do with that! I didn’t want that! I wanted to get far far away from being treated differently because of how my brain was wired. I had already been treated differently my entire life for it, and the way I was treated differently wasn’t very fun. I was scared. And prideful! I refused.

I had no idea that refusing this offer would start a little war in the school between the staff and my mom and me.

After that my grades started getting mysteriously lowered. Homework that I turned in was getting marked as “missing”. I was being sabotaged. The school kept calling in my mom to talk to her, to tell her how poor I’m doing, and try to get her to agree to have me set as Learning Disabled but, she actually respected my wishes to be free of that label. I tried to tell her, too, that “No! I really did do the work, Mom!” but she doubted me a lot. I don’t blame her.

And then, one day, my history teacher had messed up. He returned a test that we had done, all graded and everything, and I had made like, a B or something. But later, when I saw my progress report, the grade that was entered into the computer was significantly lower.

I had proof.

I showed it to my mom and she got pissed. She started showing up at the school every day to try and get them to fess up and to stop treating me this way. Meanwhile, the principle would hound me down in the halls between classes, or when I was trying to go home, to tell me how terrible I am at school and how I needed to sign up as learning disabled.

One day, in first period, I was thinking about my mom and the teachers, and all of a sudden I started breathing really hard and I couldn’t stop. It disrupted the class and I felt like I couldn’t breathe. I was hyperventilating for the first time. My first panic attack before many, many more in the near and far future.

Arc IV - It All Comes Down To Money

My homeroom teacher asked me what I was thinking of, I said “Mom!” and he told me to stop thinking about it, and had the student sitting next to me walk to the nurse.

My homeroom teacher called my mom and told her to meet him after school. There, he confessed everything. He admitted that the principle was threatening all of their jobs over this. That they had meetings about how to deal with me and how to deal with my mom separately. How they were told to lie about my grades, and then tell me to my face that I really was a bad student so that I may believe them. All because the government pays more money to a public school that has learning disabled students. The more learning disabled students, the more money the school gets. And I guess when I got pulled out of special ed in elementary school, that’s how my teacher had done it, by removing me off of the list for learning disabled. I don’t understand honestly, but what I do understand, was that my principle was specifically targeting and hurting me out of greed.

After my teacher finished up explaining all of this, he said he wasn’t going to take part in it anymore, and that when the school year ends, he was going to move back to Russia and teach there, again. I really appreciated that he came forward with this at risk of his job, and that he couldn’t stand to watch this happen anymore.

I had several more panic attacks after this, including after being chased to by the principle whom, when she made it to the car I got in to go home, when the window was rolled down she stuck her head in just to continue telling me how poor of a student I was.

But it didn’t matter. Now that we knew what was going on, we would fix it.

And Mom pulled me out in that first semester and home schooled me for the rest of my middle school days.

Arc V - But the damage had been done

That was elementary school and middle school. I was sent back to public school for high school because my mom felt there were so many missed opportunities if I stayed home schooled, things she couldn’t teach me, and interactions I’d never have. I was doing very well being taught one-on-one and I learned years worth of material per semester. But- high school had art class... sooooooo.....

Unfortunately though, I just couldn’t do as well in a public setting, and I started slipping through the cracks again. It’s incredibly disheartening to know that you were the only one who cared about your German class, and you were also the only one who failed it, for example. It wasn’t that long after, when I started making all F’s and C’s again (there aren’t D’s in Texas) that I was approached and was given the offer again.

“If we label you as learning disabled, then you’ll need less credits to graduate with and you’ll be given more time during tests.”

And for everything I worked for to be cleared of that, for everything my mom did to protect me from this, I took the offer, and then continued to fail in school, but now properly as a learning disabled kid.

I had already forgotten how to do well in school, after all. And whenever I tried, and I failed, I’d just continue to fail cause I’d give up like the perfectionist I became after leaving special ed.

Public school just really isn’t designed for people like me, which is why people with some of my disabilities have such a high ratio of dropping out of school. We’re set up for failure from our early years. Even if I hadn’t left special ed, what do you think happened to all the kids int here that were behind that were being dropped in schools that didn’t have those classes? I don’t know. I mean, I can’t justify it. Like, even if I say “It’s my fault for leaving special ed”, I was also a kid. Like, 10 years old! It shouldn’t be my fault for wanting to be treated like a normal human being and doing everything in my power for that result.

I could also say it’s my fault for just not trying hard enough, but, I also can’t justify saying that, either! Heh. Cause my behavior was very much so learned.

Anyway, I graduated by the skin of my teeth through a computer remedial class and that’s better than what my mom had and I feel really fortunate for graduating at all.

#Ableism #Learning disabled #School #Abuse #Long post #Text heavy

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