#professor/student to prey/predator (NO NOT LIKE THAT YOU CREEPS)

[fluffytimearts]

"Run Little Rabbit" Redesign!

I redrew some old 2022 art and decided to do some redesigning and renaming. I made them in the form of chibi/avatar sprites!

Mr. Wolf -> Vanity Sang (Vanity = excessive pride in or admiration of one's own appearance or achievement, Le Sang = French word for Blood, Gore, etc..)

Human!Fluffy -> Lally Lapine (Lally = To Chatter, Lapine = French word for Rabbit

[aerodaltonimperial]

19. Talking late into the night

(Platonic JungleHook, just...testing a brainrot AU idea...content warning for some implied inappropriate teacher/student behavior)

"Hook."

Hook ignores it. His pillow is soft, and the asshole upstairs has finally turned his death metal off, and Hook's eyelids are heavy and lowering, and—

"Hook, come on, I know you're not asleep. You aren't snoring."

"Fuck off," Hook groans, flipping over onto his back. "What is so god damn important that it can't wait until morning?"

"I'm failing Chem," Jack says from the other bed, only barely visible with the light of the street lamp outside filtering in.

Hook sighs, running his hands over his face. "So you've got half the semester left to get your shit together."

Jack gets quiet for a few seconds. Then, lower, he says, "Professor Cage...did that thing again."

That wakes Hook straight up. "What?"

"I don't know that it's really a thing, okay, I think I'm just taking it weird, and—"

"Jack, you need to report this to Student Services."

"What is there to report? He isn't doing anything...directly."

"Dude." Hook rolls onto his shoulder, facing across the room. "You're failing Chem because your professor is a creep. You need to go to the Dean. Or at least your advisor."

"I don't want this to be a big weird thing," Jack tries, and it's weak. "But since I'm failing, he says I have to come in for tutoring—"

"Fuck, no, Jack." Hook is halfway up and out of his bed, reaching for the light switch.

"Don't turn the light on!" Jack exclaims. He sounds panicked. "I can't...I can't talk about this with the lights on."

Hook stops his hand in mid-air. "Okay." He gets that. "Okay. Jack, don't do that. That's a recipe for assault. Do not go to him for tutoring."

"I have to pass this class."

"Yeah, well we find another option. Get a different tutor."

Jack sighs. "You offering?"

"I barely made it through Chem, and I didn't have a lecherous professor breathing down my neck." Hook lays back down. "Just...find the person with the highest score in the class. Ask them."

"How am I supposed to know who has the highest score in the class?"

"I dunno, find the person with the nerdiest glasses and start there. Pocket protector. Really big backpack."

"You have a really big backpack," Jack points out.

"Whatever, bad example. Or ask your TA for some names. Do something that isn't walking into the set-up for a Dateline news story."

Jack is silent again. Hook can hear him breathing. Then he says, "Okay, fine."

"I'm gonna find this Professor Cage and punch him out," Hook says, seriously.

"Yeah, have fun getting arrested. Again."

"Wasn't fun the first time, thanks. I wouldn't get caught. I'd sneak in after hours while he's grading and knock his lights out."

Jack snorts. "Have a nice time with that. I'll just find a new tutor. It can't be that hard, right?"

Hook is already imagining the scenario where he strings the creepy old guy up from his feet and hangs him from the ceiling with a sign taped to his forehead that reads LIKELY SEXUAL PREDATOR. "Huh? Oh, yeah. You'll be fine."

"Okay." Jack yawns. "Night, Hook."

"Mm. Night, Jack."

But it takes a long while for Hook to go to sleep, and he stares up at the ceiling while Jack’s breathing evens out, deepening, wondering if his dad will be furious or proud if Hook got charged with beating up a man who is preying on his roommate.

[mychaoticmusings]

The Violin Maker

Today I met a girl. Clarissa. A violin maker in the making. Thin in body, small in frame. Dusty blonde hair framed a mousy, pale, oval face with nervous eyes the shade of a clear blue sky. From all outward appearances she was nothing out of the ordinary. No different than you or me. A young girl of twenty-two; a college student trying to find her way. So it seemed; so I thought.

The chair I occupied creaked as I pressed my weight against the weathered back and waited as my classmates filed in behind me. I took in the sights as the light from beyond the windows of the small wood shop illuminated the dust, the grime, the disarray of tools and such I had no knowledge of to give a name. From the corner of my eye, I caught sight of a glistening cello, its frame standing proud and strong. My focus had been steeled on the beauty of the instrument until Clarissa brought her own unfinished masterpiece before a room full of students studying literature, not music theory.

Clarissa’s blue eyes were wide just as a deer when they sense danger creeping up on them. She was the prey and we were the predators, the hunters. Her eyes swam with fear. But this isn’t a story of hunting or deer, or even the small fragile girl that stood timidly before us with her fingers clutching at a red apron with wood shavings imbedded into the material. This is a story about a giant, an artist; about passion, and desire and love that dwells within the frame of a small twenty-two-year-old girl from Colorado. Clarissa’s voice trembled as she answered my question of what made her want to build a cello.

“I play the cello and I worked with my carpenter father for ten years. I took a woodworking class in middle school and really liked it.”

Her fingers caressed the wood steadily as her voice shook with each syllable. She made swift eye contact with us then focused her attention to the unfinished violin beneath her fingertips. I listened to her words intently, genuinely curious, but it was the sparkle in her eyes and the upward tilt of the corners of her mouth that spoke volumes to me as she revealed the depths of her passion.

“How long have you been playing?” Another student’s question drifted past me to where Clarissa stood.

Ten years, or was it twelve, or maybe it was eight. I can’t remember what she said, but again the shy smile and the tuck of her chin to her chest is what caught my attention more than her words. She’d made eye contact with me often. I immediately felt a connection on a level I’ve rarely felt. Her simple gestures, the tuck of her hands under her arms when her fingers were away from the instrument I saw only as a piece of wood. The constant darting of her tongue to wet her dry lips, no doubt from the dust scattered about the small shop, and the shifting of her weight from one foot to the other, spoke volumes of not just her nervousness, but the humble being before us. She’d only been working on building the unfinished cello before her for just a semester and yet was further along than most professionals get in the amount of time allotted to her. As I listened to each description of the process she had already completed, her confidence seemed to build, her shoulders broadening with each explanation she gave. She was in her element, sharing her passion, her love, her dreams of being a violin maker come true. Though if you ask her, she was far, far from where she needed to be and nowhere near what the professor proclaimed she was.

“How long do you spend working in the shop?” A voice from the back of our little pack asked.

“Eight hours,” she replied. “The time flies by. I’d stay longer if I could.”

“Do you take a lunch?” Another question from the crowd of curious students floated past me.

Many of us had never been in a violin making shop; some of us may not have even cared about the process. Eight hours to us in one room was entirely too long. We wanted jobs that allowed for two fifteen minute breaks and a one hour lunch. So of course that question would be asked.

“I only take a break to make tea,” she said. English Breakfast was her favorite, though I’d notice on her work station she liked the Lipton Green Tea as well. The box of tea bags sat as if tossed in its place and coated with a thin layer of dust.

The tea remark made us laugh and her smile. Her countenance changed, though the quiver in her voice still filled the room. Clarissa’s eyes sparkled as her passion for the cello, for working with her hands, for taking a piece of wood we saw just as wood, yet she saw as a beautiful instrument, seeped out into her words, into her expression. When the professor gave her accolades, she’d dip her head just a bit, but her eyes landed on him as if to say thank you in a silent exchange that I knew they shared over the course of the semester.

For forty-four years I’ve sought out the passion and love for something that would move me as what I saw in this twenty-two-year-old violin maker. Clarissa taught me something today. She taught me that to be a giant, to be great, to be passionate you don’t have to be large in statue or boisterous in voice. This mousy, beautiful girl from Colorado, who spends more hours in a day meticulously building a cello, has more patience, passion, love, and humbleness than most find in a lifetime.

The violin maker stood before us, before me, not as a mousy young girl, but as a giant.

[stina-is-a-punk-rocker]

jacqueline wilson’s ‘love lessons’

tw: abuse, pedophilia, characters making Bad Decisions, long unnecessary spiel about my childhood like I’m running a recipe blog

It’s funny how loads of the authors who helped shaped me into the vaguely humanoid being I am today have names beginning with the letter ‘J’; Judy Blume, Jeff Kinney, John Green, J.K. Rowling (yikes, I know) … and Jacqueline Wilson.

I’ve never owned a Jacqueline Wilson book of my own; they were always borrowed from a friend, or from a friend of a friend, or from a friend of a cousin- you get the gist. Her books, for me, come with an entire aesthetic: something reminiscent of yard sales, and reading under the covers with a flashlight, and being lulled into a false sense of security by the deceptively innocent Nick Sharratt illustration on the cover until someone’s best friend gets mowed over.

So I knew what I was getting into when I picked up Love Lessons. I knew this was going to be Fucked Up; and boy, was I right.

(Here’s the part where I warn you about spoilers.)

From an abusive dad to creepy child predator teachers to slut-shaming and victim blaming, this book has it all.

The main character is Prudence ‘Prue’ King, who is homeschooled at the beginning of the book, along with her sister, Grace. Their parents remain rooted in the early twentieth century, and are very strict about- well, everything. No TV, no computers, not a single mobile phone in the house; their clothing worse than the orphans’ from Annie; and their father remains distinctly distrustful of modern institutions like the school and the hospital; and so on, and so forth.

Daddy King suffers a stroke, and has to be taken to the hospital. Meanwhile, Mrs. King (a floppy, spineless woman who lives in fear and awe of her, frankly horrid, husband) sends the girls to school, behind the then invalid Mr. King’s back. Cue Prue and Grace being the freakshows of the school, with their strange clothing and overbearing mother.

Grace manages to make friends, but Prue remains alone. The kids are dicks, the teachers are dicks… well, all of them but one. And that’s the art teacher, Mr. Raxberry (I just couldn’t get over that name; it seems like something you’d name a mythical plant from Pixie Hollow or some shit. I’m assuming it isn’t an actual name, since the spelling & grammar check on my computer doesn’t seem to recognize it), or Rax, as he’s called.

Oh, yeah; Prudence’s favorite subject in school is art, and she’s a whiz at it. This is relevant, because reasons.

And here’s where stuff gets murky. Prue develops a crush on Rax- which is perfectly normal. I’m definitely no stranger to it; I’ve had crushes on my teachers, my mum admitted she used to think one of her professors was cute. And yeah, as I grew older, I grew out of those crushes and now have a markedly more refined taste in men (unless he’s 5’ 7’’, born in ’97 and named Bang Chan, I don’t want him); and my mum married my dad, so I’m assuming she did, too. Admittedly, now that my dad teaches at a university, it’s icky to think that there might be students who have crushes on him- but I digress.

My point is, loads of us have liked our teachers. But I doubt the majority of us have acted on it.

And Prue actively showing her interest in Rax isn’t the worst part. That’s a spot reserved for Rax reciprocating her feelings.

Guess Ezra Fitz and Ms. Grundy (yes, I watched Riverdale; please don’t cancel me) have a new addition to the Creep Club.

The age of consent in the UK is 16, if I’m not mistaken. Prue is 14. She’s just barely become a teenager, and she’s being preyed upon.

Because that is what Rax is. He’s a predator; he preys upon this vulnerable girl who’s never been in a relationship before- hell, she’s never even had friends- her father’s abusive, so she obviously doesn’t have the best experience when it comes to men- she’s unpopular at school, with the students and staff alike- and he lures her in. I don’t care how bloody nice he is to Sarah, or what a good dad he is (well, he’s really not, seeing as he cheated on the mother of his children WITH A BLOODY FOURTEEN-YEAR-OLD CHILD)- the guy’s a fucking pedophile.

I was staunchly stuck at a yellow light with him; like, sure, maybe Prue thinks he’s flirting with her- maybe she’s looking at this all wrong, she doesn’t know how relationships work- see, he drew a picture of Sarah, too, in his secret notebook- Prue’s just reading into this too much- up until he says he loves her.

Dude. Humbert fucking Humbert. She’s fourteen, for Christ’s sake, and you’re married. You have two children. She’s a child. She’s probably closer to your son’s age than she is to yours.

(This is the part where I bury my head in my pillow. And scream. Extensively, and with passion.)

The book does make some genuinely good commentary on slut-shaming and victim blaming and abusive parenting. And on one hand, I can see why so many people find issue with the romanticization of the when I kissed the teacher trope- but I can defend it, too.

The book is in Prue’s perspective. She thinks she’s in love with Rax, so obviously, she’s not going to throw in some valuable moral at the end- because she’s too young and inexperienced to think otherwise. And sadly, there are loads of instances of child abuse that go unreported because the victims just don’t know better.

What I have issue with is how the school dealt with it, ultimately. Prudence, a child, has to deal with the consequences of the actions of a literal child predator. Sure, Rax ‘clears his name’ by cooking up some bullshit story about how it was only a crush and he didn’t encourage it, but you’d think other adults would know better and, oh, I dunno- dig deeper into it, instead of blaming it on a child?

“She says you told Mr. Raxberry you loved him and he held you in his arms and fondled you.”

Which Prudence denies, because, again, she doesn’t know better. She then goes on to say that they did nothing wrong. To which the adult speaking to her, in this case, the principal, Miss Wilmott, goes on to say:

“I’m not sure that’s entirely true… I feel that there are some aspects of your friendship that could be considered inappropriate.”

FYI, lady, he kissed her- multiple times (not that kissing her once makes him any more redeemable), and told her he loved her, and admitted to fantasizing about running away with her and leaving his family behind. Fun fact: do you know Prudence is underage?

You’d think that Miss Wilmott would maybe give this whole fiasco a favorable ending, but it turns out she listens to school gossip;

“I haven’t been at all happy with your attitude. You don’t seem to understand how to behave in school. I’ve heard tales of unsuitable underwear and then a silly romance with one of the boys in your class. I feel that in the space of a few short weeks you’ve made rather a bad name for yourself… I don’t know whether you intend to be deliberately insolent but you certainly come across as an unpleasantly opinionated and arrogant girl… I can’t help feeling that you’ll be much better off elsewhere. I shall try hard to engineer a suitable transfer to another school.”

And then she comes out with this gem:

“If you won’t leave, then I shall have to ensure that Mr. Raxberry finds another position.”

“No, you can’t do that! He’s a brilliant teacher.”

“You should have thought of that before you started acting in this ridiculous and precocious manner. If I were another kind of headteacher, I would have Mr. Raxberry instantly suspended. There could even be a court case. He would not only lose his job, he could find himself in very serious trouble. Did you ever stop to think about that?”

Girlboss, gaslight and gatekeep. The fucking trifecta.

Also, by ‘another kind of headteacher’, does she mean the kind of headteacher WHO DOESN’T LET CHILD PREDATORS ROAM FREELY WITHIN THEIR HALLS?

This bitch is out here blaming a child, a literal child, for the crimes of an adult man.

The only time Prue seems aware of the fact that Mr. Raxberry is actually a very shit person is her immediate thoughts that follow after she tells Miss Wilmott she’ll take the fall;

I so wanted to save darling Rax- and yet why hadn’t he wanted to save me? Had he told Miss Wilmott it was all my fault, that I’d got a ridiculous crush on him, that I’d made ludicrous advances to him? … I wanted to tell this horrible, patronizing woman how hungrily he’d kissed me, but I couldn’t do it. I loved him. I had to help him.

NO, SWEETHEART; YOU MOST DEFINITELY DO NOT.

And maybe I’m going overboard with all these excerpts, but here’s what Rax has to tell Prue, after school, following her expulsion:

“I let her think the worst of you, the best of me, just to save my skin. I said it was ridiculous talking about a love affair between us. I said you simply had a crush on me, and that I was just trying to be kind… You were brave enough to stand up to me and force me to acknowledge the truth… I love you… That’s why I had to take a risk and see you this one last time. I didn’t want you to think I didn’t care… Every night when I close my eyes, I’ll think of us together in this car and how badly I wanted to drive off with you. I’ll imagine us walking hand in hand at the water’s edge… I wish I wasn’t such a coward.”

(I burrow into the pillow further. I’m trying to suffocate myself.)

And that’s where I think Wilson went wrong. Sure, Prudence getting expelled for something that was completely out of her hands is unfair, and horrible, but it’s real. That shit can happen.

What’s bad is showing Rax in a positive light after all that. If only Wilson had written Rax to not be the Romeo he thinks he is. Make him ignore Prudence, throw her under the bus in front of her face, instead of this star-crossed lovers bullshit it’s made out to be. Show your younger audience that Rax is not a good man. I’ve got a little over two weeks left for my twentieth; I can see why this is unacceptable. But I was a little younger than Prue when I watched Pretty Little Liars, and my only gripe with Aria dating Ezra was that Noel Kahn was so much cuter.

It shows when you scroll down the Goodreads reviews; you’ve got adults giving it one or two stars, and teenagers giving it four or five, with their biggest complaints being, “but Toby was cuter!!!”

Other non-pedophilia related complaints regarding the book include: Prudence being unlikable- which I didn’t really notice, considering she reacted to some people way better than I would’ve, even at 19 (which probably says a lot more about me than it does about Prue, but oh well). Still, Prudence obviously isn’t the most prudent of people- and again, she’s fourteen. Look me in eye and tell me you weren’t an arsehole at that age (unless you’re fourteen now, in which case, I assure you that you’ll look back on yourself someday and go ‘wtf was I thinking’). Bringing up Toby’s dyslexia in an argument was low, though.

There were people who thought the Kings’ almost-Amish lifestyle was exaggerated and unrealistic, but I assure you, it may very well be real. There are 8 billion people on the world- it’s fair to assume that several of them are complete weirdos.

Grace was a sweet character, and I adored her with every fiber of my being. As were her friends Iggy and Figgy. Honestly, I would’ve loved a book about Iggy, Figgy and Piggy’s (mis)adventures too.

[perseusjackson-jasongrace]

omg just read your teacher au ahhhhh. Love it smsmsmsm. Any chance if a sequel because omfg I love you're writing and will take anything ahah. If not no biggie. But omg love your writing a lot ahhh. Sorry if this is a lot but wowowow.

Hello Anon! SO SO SO glad you enjoyed it! They are just the blushiest, most clueless losers aren’t they?

Also me whenever anyone says they like my writing:

THANK YOU DARLING!!!!!!!!

And i am but your humble servant so here is a continuation of the first part. This really was supposed to be a quick drabble and it ended up being 1,5K+ words but no-one is surprised at this point :/ ;)

Masterlist

------------------------------------------------------------------

The week passed by in a blur of classes, coffee, and contemplation over a certain black-haired, green-eyed professor. Jason was becoming fed up with how much he thought about the marine biologist, but everything reminded him of Percy Jackson.

Just yesterday he had passed by a little kid with a dolphin backpack and his first thought was Percy probably knows what species that is. It was such a bizarre and unexciting thought he almost knocked his own teeth in. Now it was Friday: the day he would be surrounded by Percy and everything marine related. He wasn’t sure he was going to survive.

With a deep, calming breathe he hopped out the car and headed towards the Biology and Oceanography building. 

“Jason!” A bright voice called.

He turned around, a smile already taking over his face, “Good morning Percy,”

“How are you doing? You ready for today?”

“I’m doing great thanks. Kind of excited.”

Green eyes twinkled, “Well that’s nice to hear, at least one of us is.”

Before he could ask what that meant Percy shoved a cup into his hand, “I got us coffee. Figured we’d need the energy if we’re going to be chaperones for a bunch of over-excited sea creatures.” He winked.

Jason laughed, “Are they a handful?”

“Nah,” Percy chuckled, “They’re just excited for this because we haven’t been able to go for two years.”

“Good morning Prof!” An energetic yell from a dark-skinned, bouncy-curled girl echoed behind them.

“Good morning Hazel,” Percy gave her a dazzling smile.

“Oh and good morning Dr Jason. Prof told us you’d be joining the trip.” He didn’t have the chance to return the greeting before she plunged on. “I hope you’re ready for today, Leo and Frank are bound to do something dumb and end up in a fish tank,” She rolled her eyes, “You know they always manage to break something when we’re in labs. Isn’t that right prof?” She turned to Percy who was smiling unrestrained.

“Yep, I swear those two are more chaotic than I was.”

Jason’s mind immediately conjured up a twenty-one-year-old Percy, tucked into a lab coat and goggles; a frown etched into his forehead and his tongue sticking out in concentration; black hair probably poking up in all directions, and skin bronzed from a combination of his Hispanic heritage and a well-spent summer. He had no doubt the biologist had been a sight for sore eyes even then.

“What’s got you all caught up Dr Grace?” A voice startled him out of his thoughts.

He shook his head, smiling, “Sorry, not fully awake.”

“This is the very reason they invented coffee.” Percy laughed, tipping his own cup in point.

“Hello everyone,” A girl with flowers in her hair and about a dozen pins tacked to her backpack greeted.

“Hello Katie, I like the daisies.”

“Thanks Doc, they’re the easiest to pin down and I figured today was not the day for something elaborate like hibiscus or chrysanthemums. Too many petals you know?” She mused.

Jason was fast realising why Percy was so close to his students. They interacted with each other so easily and with completely unique personalities.

“I’m sure you know Dr Jason Grace,”

“Hello,” He smiled.

“Oh I most certainly know Dr Grace,” Katie grinned, giving her professor a look.

He didn’t miss the blush creeping up Percy’s cheeks.

“Where is everyone?” She frowned, turning to Hazel with a smile and a hug.

Percy checked his watch, “I don’t kn-“

A chorus of hellos, and how are you’s filled the space as students poured in.

“Guys!” Hazel squealed and rushed towards the group.

Once everyone had gathered around and gotten through their various catch-ups, they turned their attention towards their Professor.

“Right I see you’re all here so lets quickly do introductions and then we can pile on the bus. Everyone this is Dr Jason Grace, he’s a neurologist and a professor in the medical department. He will be our first-aid and a chaperone to help me handle you chaotic bunch.”

They all said good morning, exchanging glances and hushed whispers.

A curly-haired blonde grinned, “Hello Doc, how do you feel about swimming with sharks?”

Jason’s eyes widened, turning to Percy.

With a sigh the biologist gave his student a look, “Will, stop trying to get people to go shark-tank diving with you. I told you Dr Grace only has to do what he’s comfortable with.”

“Yes Prof,” The freckles on his face bunched as he smiled cheekily.

“Now let’s get going. We have a guided tour at ten and my mother said only two things are important in life. Punctuality and pancakes.”

“Yea, yea we know,” They all grumbled.

One torturous bus ride later in which Jason was only a couple inches away from Percy they arrived at the Conservation Center.

“Alright everyone, we have a tour now and then it’s free time till one. After that everyone meets up in the main exhibit so we can Feed the Fish and then we’ll make our way to the shark-tank diving for anyone who wants to do it.”

Even though Jason had no idea what was being said half the time the tour was still incredible. The way sea life interacted with one another was fascinating and some of the creatures were mind-boggling, in  looks and in activity. The best thing about the tour though, was seeing Percy and his students light up, huge, curious eyes and rapt attention plastered to the various tanks. He knew it wasn’t a regular aquarium tour because the guide and Percy got into intricate details about the anatomies and functions of corals, fish, predators vs. prey and various other topics. The students were fully attentive asking and answering questions like they knew exactly what they needed to know and how they needed to know it.

When it finished at half-eleven the group were chattering incessantly, comparing notes and discussing all sorts of ideas.

Percy’s eyes were lit up with pride and passion as he thanked the guide and turned to his class, “Alright seaweed-brains go enjoy your time. Hazel, Leo and Katie please set alarms to be back here by one.”

“Yes Prof!” They shouted, already bounding away and into the exhibits once more.

“They will all stick together?” Jason asked, wondering why only three of them had to set alarms.

“Yea, they do everything together. I’ve caught them messing around in the library or all grabbing coffee at the café a number of times. I don’t know what it is about this group but they really like each other.”

“And you are very fond of them,” He observed, looking straight into those glowing green eyes.

“Yea, they’re complete chaos but they’re good people and they’re really passionate about my subject. It’s hard not to like them.”

“I’m sure with a professor like you it’s not hard to have passion about anything. I’m sure you’d make rocks interesting.”

“Actually,” Percy lit up, “Rocks are really interesting. There’s so many different types and they all have different functions. Also it’s fascinating to understand why some rocks look this way and others developed that way and-“ He cut himself off, blushing profusely, “Sorry you probably don’t care.”

“I think I care more now than I did before,” Jason grinned, willing to do anything to keep that brightness in those sea-green eyes.

Percy’s cheeks turned a deep shade of ruby, “I minored in geology because there was a lot of useful information regarding formation that helped with marine biology.”

“How’d you get into marine biology anyway?”

He shrugged, “I’ve always been fascinated with the ocean. It’s a whole ecosystem living by a completely different set of rules to land-systems. How did you get into neurology?”

“A lot of head injuries as a kid,” He smirked.

Percy burst out laughing, “What?”

“Yea, I fell on my head a lot as a child and I got a concussion a few times. It fascinated me that my brain could be impacted by it. I mean falling on your leg doesn’t generally stop you from walking, A scrape, maybe some blood and tears, and a band-aid is all we think of it. But falling on your head causes much more damage and it could affect your whole body.”

“That is... dedicated,” Percy gasped, still laughing.

“I was a weird child,” His mouth twitched in amusement.

“Any other strange anecdotes that decided your future?”

“Hours’ worth of them,” He grinned, “I can tell you about the time we lived near a wolf sanctuary and my mother thought it’d be a good idea to have me interact with them. I interned there for a little while so i’m pretty good at analysing wolf injuries and anatomy.”

“I-“ Green eyes blinked in surprise.

“Can I entertain you with my peculiar childhood over dinner? Tomorrow night?” He asked, voice scratchy with nerves.

The smile that graced Percy’s face could make flowers grow, “I would love that.”

“You would?” Jason could not believe what he was hearing.

“Very, very much. And I’m glad you had the guts to ask because I’m ninety percent sure my students were going to throw you in a shark tank and make me rescue you just to get us together.”

It was Jason’s turn to dissolve into laughter. He had never been so full of the future but gods it was invigorating.

[disaster-dan]

Coffee - Winterspider

Peter Parker is finally in his first year of college, working hard, filled with enthusiasm and drowning himself in coffee that it concerns senior student Bucky Barnes who's had his eyes on the college freshman for a good while now. Bucky Barnes is one social mess that just wants to meet the cute boy who runs on caffeine and hold his hand.

A/N: this was longer than I intended. But hey a post! You can read on AO3 for more tags :) also dont drink too much coffee. enjoy this piece of trash-

Words: 4k

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He was a freshman, telling from the visible school ID hanging from the university’s merchandise lanyard around his neck.

Nobody carried their ID like that unless it was a freshman. Older classmen also didn’t look hopeful on campus. Whoever he was, his eyes gleamed excitement, some light that Bucky wasn’t certain if it bothered him. It caught his attention for sure, enough for Bucky to actually recognize a face around campus that wasn’t Steve or Sam or Natasha.

During the seminar, the introduction, the welcoming of the freshmen, the ‘fergies’ which was a combination of ‘freshmen’ and ‘first year’ which was just terrible. All of them, excited, looking around the building as if it was Hogwarts, chattering and asking questions and making stupid exclamations only newly-out-of-high-school students made, taking pride in the word “fergies”. It was recommended to make friends and acquaintances during the introduction. Peter hadn’t exactly made friends that day, or the following. He blended in to the walls. Nobody noticed him.

Bucky noticed him because he was like that too. Invisible. Unnoticed. Unbothered. Not as overly happy as Peter looked but the invisible part was what mattered.

Peter liked going to the cafeteria. He had coffee nearly every time, more than once in one sitting sometimes. He had dreamed of college student privileges and having coffee at any hour he wanted was one of them.

Bucky sat next to Steve, both helping Sam map out a schedule. There was Peter a few tables down, Bucky had decided to look at his ID one day and his name was Peter Benjamin Parker which was possibly the dorkiest name Bucky’s seen, scribbling at his agenda and a hot steam coming from the mug next to him. He used sugar, a lot of it. Bucky didn’t even use creamer on his coffee since he had it black.

That was the final thing that Bucky’s brain needed to register him in his mind. The fucking sugar.

Bucky was already horrible at making friends. He had known Steve and Sam long enough and that made their friendship remain. He became friends with Natasha when the girl introduced herself and blatantly said, “You have a serial killer vibe”. So the four of them united. But Bucky didn’t outright make friends. He didn’t want to either. People steered away from him, as wearing no other face besides the one Natasha described as ‘the face of an assassin who’s hungry for chicken nuggets’ sort of tended to keep others at bay.

Introducing himself to Peter was not plan number one. He didn’t have a plan for that matter. He hoped Peter was the one who would introduce himself but he probably didn’t even notice Bucky’s existence. He didn’t want to makeshift an entire scene where he purposely bumped into him apologized and one of the two would introduce themselves like that. Or maybe Peter could drop something. Or maybe Peter would ask for directions somewhere. All those possibilities had to be discarded because they were impossible.

He hadn’t mentioned to his friends of this recently found freshmen and crush. He assumed the ‘crush’ thing was over but he was wrong. He couldn’t get enough of the boy’s face, walked out of campus with Peter on his mind. He was small, not short but most guys beat him with a few inches. Bucky was much taller than him by various inches. He made an observation once in the distance, he wondered what it would feel like to have him wrapped in his arms. Bucky was taller and bigger than Peter, he felt like the Goliath to David. He longed to hold him close, make him feel safe and warm. He thought about a lot.

He ended up in the cafeteria before any of his friends one day. Their usual table by the window where it faced the best part of the school, the garden where the sun shone on just right on the grass and leaves. Nobody had arrived yet. Bucky was typically first anyways, he walked briskly.

He slid his bag to the table and then heard a sigh in the distance too familiar to his ears. His eyes found the source and without mistake, Peter Benjamin Parker was a few tables down, concentrated on his phone and a ridiculous thick textbook. He really liked living, didn’t he.

Bucky noticed he didn’t have a usual mug or cup of coffee in his hands. Which was an anomaly in Peter Parker. Peter always had coffee, some form of caffeine, something to keep his rigid and dancing hands around something. That special thing of Peter was missing. Bucky saw this as a heaven-sent opportunity for something.

Bucky made a turn towards the coffee brewers, taking a mug and flashing lazily his ID to the person on the counter. Mutely he continued with the coffee, his mind playing a repeating video of Peter making his own. Coffee brew, creamer of which there was four type so Bucky opted for original, then a crazy amount of sugar that slightly concerned him. The final touch was a small spoon and he stirred. And if everything went to plan- which he was making along the way- things would go good. Or they could turn out horribly wrong and ruin whatever Bucky’s goal was.

He looked over his shoulder, Peter’s eyes still glued on the text before him. He looked down at the mug in his hands, praying that it be the best goddamn coffee he’s made in his entire somber life. His personality gave him no hope, he hadn’t bothered to fix his hair that day either. Things could go horribly wrong.

He walked over, each step making his heart beat faster against his chest, narrowing his eyes and told himself to breathe. Peter looked harmless, he looked polite unlike the other students who were unbearably obnoxious and rude. Bucky had never actually been to close proximity to Peter and he realized that when he was less than twenty feet away.

He still had time to make an abrupt and awkward U-turn to his table with coffee that wasn’t black and with too much sugar. Then again he didn’t know when the next opportunity would rise like this one. They wouldn’t meet with just Bucky’s distant staring or his wishes and dreams. He was where he was now, he could finish the deal.

By ten feet, Bucky was following through with a very tight grasp on the mug. Nobody would have known he was nervous. He didn’t really show his feelings, not that he tried to hide them. Showing them would make him more human and less like a cyborg ready to destroy humanity. It kept the uptight jocks away however, left him unbothered and at peace. Lonely sometimes.

Peter didn’t notice Bucky pulled up to him, he hadn’t heard the footsteps step closer and closer in his direction. When he did it was a halt, audible pause, right next to Peter. The presence didn’t move for two seconds and that’s when Peter realized something was wrong.

Peter held his breath, very carefully lifting his gaze and was met with broad shoulders and following higher a glare of sharp blue eyes.

It was a higher classman, and fuck was he intimidating. He probably wanted that seat and Peter nearly lost his calm at the thought of upsetting him. He was about to move too, reaching for his bag and hands scrambling to gather his pencil and pens.

“Sor-” Peter didn’t finish. A steaming mug placed right in front of him, smelling like heaven's in cloud nine froze his thoughts.

Peter blinked dazedly and lifted his face to see the person who had for some reason placed a mug of coffee to him and held his breath.

“W-”

“You usually get coffee with a lot of sugar. I don’t know what type of creamer you use so I just used the original.” It made Peter breathe in.

As far as Bucky’s appearance was, Peter was terrified. He didn’t even try to meet eye level with Peter who was sitting down. He stood, tall and straight, shoulders squared, only hardly craning his head to look down at Peter. His arms hung to his side, fisted, muscle. Veins.

“I- Yeah. I do.” He said quietly, not ignoring the soft steam and the unblinking, strikingly stern posture of the man.

He looked at the light brown beverage, carefully wrapping his hands around the mug, warmth flooding his fingers and palms. It smelled amazing. “Thanks.” He said with a tone of confusion. He was not going to deny the coffee on the account that he loved it and the possibility of pissing the student off. How had he known about his coffee?

Bucky shoved his hands into his pockets, not bothering to ‘you're welcome’, not bothering to introduce himself which is what he should’ve done miles before getting Peter a fucking mug of coffee and turned to walk to where he came from. There was a sudden heat on his face, he knew he was blushing and knowing he was blushing made him blush harder and his back burned as he strayed further away from Peter who probably thought he was some creep. Even if Peter wasn’t thinking that.

-

The guy hardly smiled and if he smiled it was probably around really close people to him. He didn’t even offer recognition to any professors who greeted students throughout campus. He walked, no indication of caring for anything else but going to where he was supposed to. Peter had finally begun to notice the small jerks his head gave when they crossed paths or were somewhat in a distance of each other. Or his eyes that flashed when they had scanned Peter in the room before looking forward again with soldier-like precision. Bucky was definitely an apex predator and Peter was the prey.

Peter would be hiding and horrified if Bucky wasn’t so goddamn Bucky.

Peter doubted Bucky was even mindful of his looks. His hair was constantly a mess, a half bun up tied with no intent of making it look good but hell it looked good. He probably didn’t sleep much, his stubble grew and Bucky trimmed the thing instead of shaving it off. It was scruffy, made him look intimidating. He looked snuggly under the right light which was the only light Peter was seeing as of currently ever since their meet.

He found him in the library once. Peter went to the silent section of the building, he had an upcoming assessment and every spec of dust would be a distraction. James Barnes was definitely a distraction, learning his name through the asking of many people. He wasn’t stalking, he was observant. They called him “Bucky” too.

Gut churning and heart racing, Peter made his way to the lone wolf in the room. There were other free tables and Bucky had predictably chosen the one furthest from civilization. It was safe to approach, he assumed. Bucky had already gotten him coffee without Peter asking, he got shy around Peter (Peter noticed), so if Peter’s math was correct Bucky would like his company. Right?

Peter was seeking his company as of lately. The sudden surprise of coffee and how his blue eyes lit up when he saw Peter didn’t mean nothing. It meant something. And May had taught him to take chances, jump the leaps, chase curiosity. He was taking all sorts of leaps.

He chose the seat right next to the man, next to him, pulled the chair out and took a seat. He breathed in deeply beforehand, forcing his arms to not tremble at such proximity to the student.

Bucky was going to move, thinking some ragged student wanted the entire table for themselves. He really disliked the student body.

Luckily he recognized the fluff of brown hair and the old bookbag the moment Peter sat down. He couldn’t help but turn to glance, confused and excited. His eyes widened when the image of Peter Parker next to him was crystal clear. He stopped breathing when he was met with the pale smooth face and the gorgeous brown eyes. Peter gave him a small raise of eyebrows, a Peter raise of eyebrows. His eyes were beautiful. Bright and cute-

“Can I sit here?” Bucky’s eyes quickly glanced at his lips and back to his eyes, nodded mutely, and Peter’s relieved sigh made his heart flip. “Just… needed a quiet place and peace.” he said with finality, pulling out his subject assessment.

Peter wanted to jump in joy, noticing from the corner of his eye the smallest smile on Bucky’s lips.

-

“I just said it doesn’t seem like you kiss a lot.”

“I don’t understand why we are talking about my kissing.”

“Trust me, it’s bad.”

“Don’t side with her, Sam.”

“It’s like you’re a virgin.”

“Buck.”

Steve huffed at his friends and Bucky ducked his head to cover a snicker.

They loved their Steve, teasing relentlessly was their group hobbie.

Peter caught Bucky’s shy smile and his cheeks set higher ablaze. Who knew he would have such a reaction. Bucky was handsome. And the small braids that tied into his half bun were just a living art piece. He would personally write a thank you letter to Natasha for having done that.

His fingers twitched as they took hold of the steaming mug of hot black coffee. Simple, plain, dark and delicious. Peter could only breathe in, calming his nerves and then turning direction towards the college seniors. Courage bubbled in his chest.

‘You got this.’ He told himself and then his feet began to move towards the table.

Bucky’s face wasn’t looking at Peter, he hoped he didn’t catch him by surprise. It would be bad to surprise Bucky. He was not doing that, even after the small moments of silence they shared on their library-study-dates. They weren't officially dates but Peter liked the idea of them being dates.

He was at close reach and he held himself from running when one of the group members lifted a questioning gaze at him.

Peter swallowed and look down at Bucky. “I-I noticed you have your c-coffee black.”

Peter. Bucky immediately recognized.

Bucky blinked, glancing at the beautiful beverage and up  at the beautiful boy with pink flooding his cheeks and an expression that Bucky just wanted to frame. To kiss, really.

“I do.” he said, voice low and accepted the mug from the boy’s hands when he offered it. They both purposely tried to reach for each other’s hands. The small brush of their fingers made Peter’s heart flutter and his belly tickle with thrill. It made Bucky grin when he noticed their dual action and he nodded up at him knowingly. “Thank you.”

Face burning and a shy smile tugging at his lips, Peter nodded hastily. “Yeahnoproblem.”

Bucky watched as he left, eyeing how he gripped the straps of his backpack and walked in short-hurried steps. He wanted to laugh, run after him, kiss his dorky smile, hold him close. He didn’t though. He didn’t know what the coffee or hand-touching meant. It meant something but he didn’t know what. He didn’t worry about it much, soon enough with more interactions like those- he’d find out. He would.

He peacefully drank, quietly loving the remarks and teasing his friends threw at him and for once looking forward to the halls of the campus.

-

“This is too much. What the fuck, man. I’m real tired.”

“Take a nap.” Bucky suggested, flipping the page of his text book. He knew how to study, he had specific ways of studying for every class all of which applied to learning the subject smoothly according to how easy or hard it was for him. He’s helped Peter study a few ways, index cards, re-reading, short quizzes- Peter in return had done the same. He liked to distract Bucky really.

Peter let himself fall back flat on his bed, sliding the laptop off his laps and sighing obnoxiously. It didn’t bother Bucky, a lot of things didn’t bother Bucky. People fidgeting around him made him nervous though. Peter stopped biting his nails with a single slap to the hand from Bucky and a darkly growled “fucking stop”. Now his fingers weren’t stub or irritated anymore. The light natural pink had returned to his nails.

“I don’t have to write this essay.”

“You have to write the essay.”

Peter huffed and spread his arms wide. “What for?”

“For a grade.”

Peter groaned, flipping to lie on his stomach, dying to do anything to excuse himself from the one fourth of his written essay. He turned his face to Bucky who sat on his desk while writing down notes from the reading he had open. Brows dug, mouth in a thin line with barely a muscle making a pout. He did that when he thought or concentrated. He had nice lips. Real nice lips.

Peter’s eyes dragged themselves from his hand, the pen looking ridiculous small in his fingers. He had big biceps, strong shoulders. He didn’t wear sleeves around Peter, that meant he was comfortable around him now to not feel the need to cover himself. Shirts looked good on him just as they looked good off. Wearing a shirt was an eternal tease, holding back the beauty of his body, clothing fitting so well on his broad shoulders. They hugged his body, making Peter drool. Or when it was loose and baggy it made Peter curious about underneath. He’d seen Bucky shirtless before, not long enough though.

Peter dragged himself to sit on the edge of his bed and reached for his cooling coffee, his mouth appreciating the flavor that flooded and easingly went down. In Peter’s room, he had in the corner desk a small coffee machine that May had granted him as a gift when he finished his first semester. He was doing well, out of home, taking challenging classes, Peter deserved a coffee machine. Bucky on ocassion brought him stupid sugar shopping, he said it was as a joke but really it became a habit here and there to get the boy either sugar or caffeine.

Bucky glanced at his friend and huffed out a small chuckle.

“Довольно?”

Peter didn’t know Russian, but he knew it had to do something with his drink. So he tipped his chin up and smiled. “I love my coffee.”

“Кофе.”

“Ah yes, кофе.”

Peter grinned at Bucky’s smile, the way the corners of his eyes crinkled when he smiled made Peter’s heart jump. Bucky shook his head playfully at his small friend and his quirky ways.

They hadn’t really done anything, not in the light anyway. Everything was in the dark, too short and too small, not relevant enough to be mentioned the next day. At first it was just hand holding, in the dark, watching movies and the screen not even bright enough to illuminate their actions. Then it was the bed thing. They bunked some nights with the ‘on your side’ rule which dissolved after the third sleepover and Peter was spooning Bucky’s muscular form.

It was not new the strong emotion that stirred in Peter when he was around Bucky. He hadn’t really dwelled on his sexuality up until the end of high school. He didn’t want a label or dealing with stereotypes- Peter was just Peter. His emotions were perfectly okay to feel. He didn’t worry too much when he realized that his feelings for James were more than friendship or admiration. It was attraction, and he didn’t care one bit, he knew Bucky felt the same. Even if neither of them brought it up, they were incredibly sheepish.

It had become natural to feel each other, touch each other in small ways, embrace, all in the dark. That was why it took Bucky by surprise when Peter drew him away from his notes, turned the spinning chair and stood with legs on either side of Bucky’s laps.

Bucky stared up at the boy, confused and intrigued in what Peter had suddenly brought into their day. Peter looked at his blue eyes, at his red smooth lips that didn’t touch his enough. His hands found the bearded face of the man, holding him gently and drawing him a bit closer to Peter’s face. Bucky inhaled and quirked an eyebrow at Peter. Peter didn’t give him an answer, only held himself still, taking in what he was about to initialize and wondering of the hands on his hips and what they could do to him.

The first time they kissed they were both high, far into the late ghost hours. They kissed for a short moment on Bucky’s couch and then pulled away, debating if they enjoyed it as if tasting something for the first time. Of which they did.

The ‘most’ that was done was again during a sleepover. Peter’s back was pressed snug against Bucky’s warm chest. Nothing had actually taken place but Bucky’s curious fingers had gone from softly running along Peter’s abdomen, playing with the string of his joggers, slipping inside his boxers and eventually a hand cupping softly there. His cock.

Peter’s heart was pumping hard against his chest and he could sense Bucky’s was too. That was all it was, after a few minutes both were back to relaxed and dozing off. Bucky didn’t massage or stimulate him, Peter hadn’t gotten hard either although the peaking of arousal was there. Bucky’s hand had felt Peter’s member twitch too. They weren’t there yet, wherever or whatever they were. Holding his flaccid penis as they slept was not the strangest thing Bucky had done.

Bucky swallowed thickly when Peter sat his butt right on Bucky’s groin, shifting slightly to make himself at home.

He felt a little stupid, Peter was the one who iniciated things like these. Bucky avoided starting anything, it felt safer the smaller of the two started what they were both thinking. And Peter, fuck, he waited and thought about it so much. To run his hands all along Bucky’s body. He might’ve done that for a small moment, somewhere in the hidden darkness of their activities.

He wanted to see. And he wanted more than lost seconds.

The warmth of Peter’s hands that first explored his shoulders and collar bones, wide open palms on his pecs sent heat down to his groin. Peter’s ass on him was not making anything better.

Peter kissed Bucky’s forehead lightly as his hands rummaged the muscle on Bucky’s torso and arms. He felt tiny, so small on Bucky’s laps, the wide hands on his hips traveled to his waist and enjoyed the shape and feel of his body there.

He sighed softly, moving his hips and flushing his groin right on to Bucky’s. He groaned in response and his hands forced a grind from Peter.

“Oh-”

Bucky surged forward and captured the boy’s lips on his own. Peter moaned sweetly against him and allowed the man to move him whatever way he wanted and relieve the pressure and friction on both their lower regions.

He felt secure in Bucky’s arms, against his body, arousal was definitely a sensation Peter felt occasionally when they hung out. Now, Peter didn’t have to feel guilty for that. He chased the feeling of pleasure and desire, mounting Bucky a bit higher and ground his still clothed erection against his abdomen. He moaned into the older male’s mouth and whined when he felt Bucky drawing him away.

“Huh?”

“Bed.” he grumbled, hands snaking under Peter’s thighs and hoisting him securely as he rose to his feet.

Peter clung and kissed all around the man’s mouth. He had grown especially fond of his beard. He liked how it felt under his fingers- and on other parts of him.

His back softly touched his bed and his arms wrapped around Bucky’s shoulders pulled him down greedily. Peter was not forceful, he got excited and that provoked stronger reactions in the boy and Bucky loved those little moments. He wished Peter didn’t hold back too much, because Bucky was going to take what he yearned for ever since the two of them had begun to dream about each other.

“My laptop.” the boy said between kissing, worrying slightly for the condition of his dorm.

“Fuck your laptop.” Bucky growled out as he lifted his shirt over his head and throwing it somewhere.

Peter giggled in response, accepting the deep kiss Bucky returned to him and let himself sink into the bliss that his now-boyfriend was going to give him.

[hungry-weirdartist]

Can We Have An Optimistic Outlook?: A Dear Evan Hansen Fanfiction

2010: third year

Evan hopped from one foot to another.He stood up on his toes because he saw a mischievous grin or some soft brown hair,but he’d slunk down when he saw it wasn’t him.He bit his lip.

“Hey there,Tree Boy!” Jared greeted,causing Evan to cringe at the nickname.He loved his friend’s jokes,but Jared sometimes took things too far.Jared laughed at himself and slapped Evan on the back.”How’re you doing?”

Evan didn’t answer,seeing someone who had a slew of freckles with dark brown eyes.But when he saw the blonde hair, his eyes dimmed and caught Jared watching him strangely.”What?”

“Who are you looking for?” Jared said,using his amazing deductive abilities.Evan’s eyes darted around.”I’m looking for Connor.Have you seen him?” Evan fidgeted with his hands and Jared,noticing Evan’s obvious anxiety,tried to help.

“No,I haven’t.” he said and because he was curious, “Why’d you ask?” Of course,it wasn’t because he hated Connor.They got over that patch the previous year.”He said ‘meet him here’ a few months ago in an owl, but he hasn’t replied to anything I sent in the past month,so I don’t know.”

Jared opened his mouth to say something but changed  what he was going to say something but changed what he was going to say to “He’s over there!” Evan followed Jared’s line of sight and saw Connor looking very miffed.His new longer hair flew in the wind as he stomped over.

Jared had not even greeted him with a nickname when Connor went up on the train and left the two behind.The two made eye contact with a quizzical look and they quickly followed him up the Hogwarts Express.

As they walked into the train,Evan nudged Connor’s side and smiled.He tried to say all he wanted with it like hey you worried me sick not replying to my  owl but I still think you’re a good friend to me and I hope you think I’m a good friend so please don’t be mad.

Connor smiled back.

The train ride continued filled with light-hearted banter and jokes.Connor laughed and in rare times during the ride,injected his own commentary.Evan took note of that.

When they left the train,Evan spotted Zoe Murphy walking with her friend.Zoe saw him too and gave him a smile.That made him feel happy.

During the dinner,the third-years smiled at each other as Professor Mcgonnall reminded them of the Hogsmeade trips and emphasised that they could only go if they had the form.The third-years buzzed with excitement.Evan spotted Jared rubbing his hands together.However,Connor looked...

He looked bummed,to say the least.

He stared at his plate,picking nonexistent food off it with a fork.He seemed to be trying to take up the least amount of space as possible.Evan wanted to give him a smile,reassuring him everything was okay like he did on the bus,but then he disappeared over mountains of food and he couldn’t see him over it;he wasn’t that tall.

He went to his dormitory,thinking about what made his friend feel bad.

He went to sleep,hoping it wasn’t that bad.

The next day,he soon realised what Jared was talking about when he said “the burden that is third year”.He was plagued with essays and worksheets on the first day.He was given unexpected and suprising calls in class which sent his heart racing and eyes blurry and-

All he knew was he had a bad feeling about it.

And all the Star Wars movies Jared made him watch and his first lesson on Divination made his hunch made it seem more likely.

Connor remained amazing in Defense Against The Dark Arts,earning praise from Professor Bones and Evan,the latter causing blush to creep up Connor’s face and make him smile.

Evan,much to Jared’s dismay,excelled in third-year Herbology.He enjoyed the classes he had with his friends,but due to Jared’s hectic study schedule,Evan hung around with Connor more,which he didn’t really complain about.

But he seemed off.

Like he was mad and repressing something.

It wasn’t much of a problem.Until one day..

The two were walking out of Divination,howling with laughter at what had just happened in class when  a group of Gryffindors walking down the hall.The group saw Connor and started pointing and whispering.

“Hey,look! It’s Slyteherin’s heir!” One of the boys called.

Evan glanced warily at his friend.His head was down.

“You going to kill that Hufflepuff beside you?” This caused snickers from the group.

But no response from the now shaking boy.

“Hey,how do you even speak Parseltongue? I really want to kn-”

The boy didn’t get to finish his sentence ,because Connor had turned to him,picked him up by the collar and shoved him towards the wall harshly.

Evan saw Connor whispering to the frightened Gryffindor,but he couldn’t see the rest of the fight as when he approached Connor,he gritted with all the hatred in his being,

“Get lost,loser.”

Evan stepped back and looked at Connor’s face.He felt like prey being stalked by a predators and his first instinct was to flee.He ran away from the scene,feeling tears prick his eyes.

Later he overheard that apparently Connor might get expelled for causing harm on another student.

But with all he did,Evan couldn’t hate Connor.

He just couldn’t.

The next few weeks,Evan did what he was told.He got lost.He avoided Connor completely.He wouldn’t sit with him anywhere and ignored any correspondence from him.

“You’re being a real dick.” Jared stated,when Evan explained why Connor was not with them at the library.Evan opened his mouth to say that he wasn’t being one and you shouldn’t say bad words,Jared.

“Stop me,” Jared replied. “But,like seriously,he looks like shit.” Evan followed Jared’s finger and saw Connor and,man,was Jared right.

He looked like he was forced to neither eat or sleep.He was tall and gaunt,with deep bags under his eyes.He was more moody than Evan had ever seen,but he knew he was just acting out because he was sad.

So,Evan did the only thing he could.

He wrote a letter.

Dear Connor Murphy,

Jared told me you look terrible.Not the exact words he used,but you get what I’m trying to say.I heard a teacher saying your wandwork was getting worse.I don’t want to see you like this so eat up! sleep more!!revise your work!!! It’s easy to change if you just give it your attention! All you have to do is just believe you can be who you want to be!

Sincerely,

Me

He wrote many more letters after that,never getting a clear response,but he knew he had made an impression by Connor looking better and his charm casting better.

But,he was still alone.Jared still had his study schedule that made it hard to avoid being alone and when he was alone,Connor was alone.Finally,getting his crap together,he wrote a letter to Connor to meet him at the one-eyed witch statue at three before the third-years went to Hogsmeade.

He stood there from two forty-five,just waiting.Then,when he glanced at his watch at two fifty-seven,a shadow made him look up and his breath hitched.

It was Connor.

Idiot,who else would it be?,he thought to himself.

The two stood in an awkward silence until Evan started.

“Hey-”

“Why did you avoid me?”

Okay.That was unexpected.

“I-I,what d-do you mean?”

“I mean,why did you avoid me?”

“Because,you t-told me so?” he answered warily,scared of how Connor might react.

“I-what?”

“When you were dealing with the Gryffindors,y-you told me to get lost.”

“I didn’t say that,I just-I lost my temper,I didn’t think,I’m sorry.” He sounded like he was close to tears.

Instead of speaking again,he just hugged his friend,who had started sobbing quietly.

“It’s okay,you’re okay.We’re okay.” He emphasised the last sentence.

Silence for a few minutes.

“Thank you.”

They hugged each other tighter.

God,he had missed his friend.

Jared joked that the two magnets were back together,and Evan probably wouldn’t disagree.They hung out more together,probably all the time in their classes and when Jared was busy, and when Jared found out they were friends again,he whispered to Evan that the boyfriends got back together and turned Evan to a flustering mess that took Connor a bit to calm down.

On the last day of school before summer,Connor was asked to leave the Hall by a teacher to go to the Headmistress’ office.Evan noticed,shoved food down his throat and then ran to the office.

He waited outside the office,thinking it had been an eternity when it had just been a few minutes.He looked around,seeing the gargoyles sleeping,the paintings move.He had just moved on to the seventh painting in his surroundings when the door opened,showing Connor smiling and his parents beside him.Mister and Mrs Murphy waved slightly to Evan,leaving Connor with Evan.

“What happened?” Evan asked,nervously.He was just worried his just-acquired best friend might be expelled.His anxiety was evident on his face and Connor noticed.”I’m not going to be expelled,Evan.”

Evan let out a breath he hadn’t realised he had been holding.”Th-that’s great.”     

Connor surprised him when he hugged Evan tightly.

“I’m happy you’re my friend.”

“So am I.”

He was so,so,exceedingly happy that they were friends again.

He had been a tree and Connor was the roots,giving him support and things to help him grow.

He’d never risk it damage ever again.

                                                           -END-

(a/n:sorry for taking so long with this one,i was kinda not feeling it this week but i still hope you liked the chapter, and fourth year will be way more..dramatic.hope you have a wonderful day! -eurus)