#this started as a stupid doodle in my math notes

[crispyjeans]

These idiots are taking over my brain 😔

Textless version:

[oizysian]

An Eggcellent Boy | Elizabeth Olsen

Summary: Y/N has a school project that she’s deemed stupid, but her partner might just change her perspective on the whole thing.

Word count: 3k

AN: Happy birthday to my number one fan! Thanks for always supporting me ❤️

“Now, listen up, students! Today is a very important day! Today we’ll be giving each senior a sophomore to partner up with for a week to take care of your egg babies.”

A collective groan came from the crowd of high schoolers listening to the announcement. Yet another way to torture the students, I thought as I leafed through the little pamphlet they handed out.

“‘Your baby and you.��� This is so dumb.” I mumbled to myself, stuffing the leaflet into my backpack.

“When you meet with your partner, you must take care of your baby, make a plan for your baby’s care, and log it all in your journals.”

I rolled my eyes and continued to doodle in my notebook, not the slightest bit interested in the project. Who even cared about babies?

“You will meet with your partners and get your eggs today …”

As the Health teacher droned on about the specifics of the project, I zoned out. I had too many other things to worry about other than stressing over some egg. I was failing math and all I wanted was for Tom Sullivan to finally ask me out.

The bell rang and I packed up my things and got ready to head to my next class. I threw my bag over my shoulder and trudged out, nearly bumping into a group of girls walking in the other direction.

I growled under my breath and looked back at them, a blonde girl doing the same and looking back at me. I couldn’t deny the fact that she was beautiful, probably one of those preppy cheerleaders, not someone I’d ever be friends with.

I huffed and continued walking, pretending to be unbothered by the group of girls that no doubt thought they were better than me. I opened the door to my next class and took a seat in the back, not really wanting to be bothered with this class either. I just wasn’t in the mood to be in school.

I took out my notebook and started doodling again, thoroughly done with school for the day. While the English teacher spoke about Shakespeare and the complexities of his work, there was a knock at the door. An aide came in, looked down at her notes, and then called out one name.

“Y/N Y/L/N?”

I looked up from my book, hesitating before slipping my notebook into my bag and getting up and following the aide out. She was silent for a moment as we walked before clearing her throat and speaking.

“I’m taking you to meet your project partner and to get your egg.”

It took all my self control to not roll my eyes at her words. This stupid egg thing was getting out of hand.

We walked until we made it to the Health room and she opened the door for me, waiting for me to enter before entering herself. Inside was the girl I saw earlier; the preppy cheerleader. Oh, great, I thought to myself, THIS was going to be my partner?

“Y/N, this is Elizabeth, the senior that’s going to partner up with you for this project.”

“Hi.” I managed to bite out, trying to not sound as disinterested as I actually was.

“Hi!” She greeted me with a bright smile.

Goddamn her, she was beautiful and she was nice.

“Choose your egg, and follow all the guidelines in the pamphlet handed out earlier and you’ll both do fine.”

I looked from Elizabeth to the eggs, which were in cartons on the table. They were literally just … eggs. There was nothing special about them.

“You wanna choose?” I asked her and she nodded, walking over to the table and looking over the eggs before finally picking one from the back.

“What should we name him?”

I blinked at her, my eyes moving from her to the egg in her hands, and shrugged.

“I, uh, I don’t know. Why don’t you choose?”

“We should choose together. ‘Cos it’s our baby.” She said with a smile and I couldn’t help but smile back.

“How about … James?”

“James? I like it. Little James.” She gave the egg a tickle and my heart melted at the sight.

“Okay, girls, you can go now.” The Health teacher said and we walked out together, standing in the hallway awkwardly.

“I already know what we can put our baby in.” She said proudly, looking down at the egg in her hands.

“Oh yeah? What?”

“Let me take him tonight. I’ll bring him in tomorrow and then you can have him, okay?”

I looked at her for a moment before nodding.

“Alright. Do you want my number just in case James has an accident?” I teased and she nodded excitedly.

“Of course! I’ll call you if something happens.”

I sighed, waiting for her to get out a piece of paper and a pen so she could write down my number. I didn’t think she’d actually take me up on my offer.

She handed me one of her notebooks and a pen and I flipped it open to a blank page, jotting down my name and number and then handing it back to her.

“Great.” She said as she looked over the page. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Y/N!”

She smiled at me then turned to walk away before turning back.

“When do you have lunch?”

“Fourth period.”

“Perfect, me too. I’ll see you then.”

She gave me a small wave then walked away with James, leaving me in the hallway, staring at her retreating back. What was I getting into?

•

The next day at school almost everyone was paired up or carrying around one of those damned eggs. I had pretty much forgotten all about it since Elizabeth had taken James - the egg. It was an egg, not a baby.

When lunch rolled around, I was pretty exhausted by my previous classes and the idea of working on this egg project. I had Health third period and all we talked about was our eggs.

I grabbed my tray of food and sat down at a table far in the back of the room. I just wasn’t in the mood to socialize.

“Hey!” A cheerful voice greeted me and I looked up to see Elizabeth with a lunchbox of sorts.

“Hey.” I greeted back, poking at my food with my plastic fork.

“I brought James.” She placed the lunchbox on the table and sat down. “You can take him tonight. He’ll be okay.”

I looked at her expectantly, blinking wordlessly.

“Where is he?”

She gently tapped the box and slid it over to me.

“You put it in a lunchbox?”

“It’s a mini cooler!”

I pulled the cooler towards myself and opened it. Inside James was nestled in what looked like a nest, surrounded by little handmade decorations. I couldn’t help but smile at the sight. She had put so much effort into this and I barely wanted to be bothered.

“It looks great.” I complimented it, closing the cooler over so James could keep cool.

“Thanks.” She smiled. “I thought that a cooler would be the best place for him. I’ve already heard some people had their eggs crack because they just put them in a regular old box with no cushions.”

“Guess they already failed the project.”

She nodded, placing her chin in her hand and watched me eat.

“How about we get together after school to work on our paper?”

“We’ve only had him for a day.” I said softly.

“Yeah, but we’re supposed to keep track of him every day for a week.”

“How much can we track? He’s just an egg.”

She giggled and shrugged. She probably thought this project was just as ridiculous as I did. She reached for her bag, unzipping it and pulling out the project pamphlet.

“We still have to give him a face. I figured you could do that tonight. Or we can do it after school together.”

“Together sounds nice.” Why did I say that?

Her cheeks flushed a slight pink hue and she continued to read.

“Then after the week is up, we have to reflect on the project; say if we were good parents or not, and if our feelings about the project changed from beginning to end.”

“This is so dumb.” I let out a chuckle and she nodded.

“I know, but this counts for more than half of our grade.”

I rolled my eyes and put my fork down. At least my partner wasn’t a complete idiot.

“They just want to torture us, forcing us to carry around an egg. An egg.”

“At least he can’t move.”

I nodded in agreement, tapping my fingers on the top of the cooler.

“What else do we have to do?”

“Didn’t you read the pamphlet?” She asked with a smirk and I shook my head.

“I barely even looked at it.”

She smiled and shook her head, looking over the paper in her hand.

“We also need a birth certificate. Do you wanna do that?”

“Sure.” I paused. “In that case, he needs a full name, right? I chose his first name so you can choose the middle.”

She nodded.

“Whose last name should he have? Mine or yours?”

“Why not hyphenate it?”

“That’s a good idea!” She seemed pleased.

The bell rang and she stuffed the paper back into her bag, zipping it up and putting it on her back.

“So, I’ll see you after school? We can meet by the gym.”

“Sure. I’ll see you then.”

She smiled and waved, getting up from the table and leaving. I let out a breath I didn’t realize I was holding and looked down at the cooler. Why did she have to be so nice and pretty and smart? Why was this affecting me the way it was? I was straight and she was just my partner for this stupid project.

The rest of the day went by quickly and I couldn’t wait to go home. That was, until I remembered I was going to meet Elizabeth by the gym. Shit.

I trudged over there, James in hand, and waited. It wasn’t long before I realized someone was still inside the gym and I peeked in.

Elizabeth was playing volleyball with another girl. I watched quietly as she confidently struck the ball, making the other girl run and fall trying to hit it back.

She cheered, jumping up and down as the girl got back up.

“You beat me again.” The other girl spoke and Elizabeth nodded happily.

“I have to be competitive. I have three older siblings.”

I smiled, watching her do something she clearly enjoyed and was obviously good at. After she had calmed down, she noticed me, smiling and waving as she made her way over.

“Hey, Y/N. Sorry, I got caught up in the game.”

“It’s fine,” I assured her. “I didn’t know you played.”

“Only for fun.” She looked down at the cooler in my right hand. “How was James today?”

“Good?” I was unsure if she was being serious or not. “He’s an eggcellent little angel.”

She slapped my arm playfully, giggling at my awful attempt at a joke.

“I’m gonna go get changed, I’ll be back in five minutes.”

I watched as she walked back into the gym, heading into the locker rooms. Something about her was captivating and I couldn’t deny it. She was kind, beautiful, athletic …

Wait, I was straight. Why was I getting starry eyed over a girl?

“Hey, you okay?” Elizabeth asked and I shook myself out of my head, nodding at her.

“Yeah, I’m good.” I raised up the cooler. “Wanna get started on the paper?”

“Yeah, sure. Let’s go to the library.”

“Okay,” I gestured for her to walk ahead of me. “Lead the way.”

She walked ahead of me, excitedly making her way down the hall towards the library. I watched as her hips swayed, her backpack hung low on her back, her hair tied in a loose ponytail - just every little detail had me hooked. I did not have a crush. I did not.

She looked back at me and smiled, holding the door open for me to enter first. Admittedly, I had only been in the library once or twice, and never for more than a few minutes. I walked in and waited for her, and she led me towards the back where we sat in a secluded corner.

“Okay. James.” I placed him on the table and she reached over to open his top. “What kind of face should we give you?”

“A happy face. With a blush.”

“That sounds cute.”

She dug around in her bag and pulled out a sharpie.

“Do you wanna do it?” She held out the sharpie to me.

“Sure!”

I took it from her and picked up James carefully, popping off the top, I scribbled on his face, doodling a little happy face with a blush. When I was done, I turned him around so she could see him and she covered her mouth in happiness.

“He’s beautiful!” She carefully took him from my hands and I put the cap back on the sharpie. “Our beautiful son.”

It was my turn to blush. Her words heat up my cheeks, the use of ‘our’ instead of ‘my’ really got to me. I placed the sharpie down and unzipped my backpack, pulling out some paper and a pen.

“Okay, his name. James …”

“Liam.”

“James Liam Y/L/N …” I looked at her expectantly.

“Olsen.

“Olsen. Done. He was born October 26th and his parents are Y/N Y/L/N and Elizabeth Olsen.”

She smiled and nodded excitedly.

“This is perfect. We’ll meet up every day and take notes on James and by the end of the week, we’ll be pro parents.”

We met up every single day at lunchtime and after school, dressing James, taking photos of us and James, and almost acting like a married couple. After a while, we would just talk about ourselves and we got closer and closer as each day went by.

I hated to admit it, but I was definitely developing a crush on Elizabeth. It wasn’t hard. She was perfect. Sometimes I found myself just staring at her as she spoke about her day with James or her family life or the different sporting events she was attending. I knew she couldn’t feel the same way about me, so I just fantasized and kept my feelings to myself. It was just a crush, it would pass.

We were working on our final paper when our hands touched as we both reached for the same pen. We stared at each other for a moment before giggling. I let her take it and dug around in my bag for a spare.

“Y/N?”

“Hm?” I hummed as I looked over my notes, flipping through the various pages of actual notes and just doodles.

“I think you’re really funny and really nice.”

“I think you are too.” My brain decided at that moment to malfunction, leaving that as the only response I could muster up.

She smiled and returned her attention to her paper. Did I just reject her? Was she coming onto me? I bit my lip in thought, staring down at the blank page I had flipped to.

“Must be interesting.” She teased and I snapped out of it, looking up at her confused.

“What?”

“Your paper. You’re staring so intently at it.”

I looked from her to the paper and chuckled nervously.

“Ah, yeah, that. Real riveting stuff.”

She shot me one of her dazzling smiles and I felt myself getting deeper and deeper into trouble with her.

I watched as she wrote in her notebook, her tongue pursed between her lips in concentration, her brow furrowed as she scribbled and jotted down her notes.

“Elizabeth …” I said softly, getting her attention.

She looked up at me expectantly and I froze.

“What’s wrong, Y/N?”

“N-nothing. I was just gonna ask how your paper is going.”

“It’s going okay. I’m up to the part where I have to write what I liked most about the project.”

“What did you like the most?” I was curious.

“Working with you.” She said bashfully.

My eyes shined with hope as she looked across the table at me.

“That was my favorite part too.”

“Yeah?” She asked shyly, smiling brightly.

“Yeah. I really like you, Elizabeth.”

She pulled her bottom lip between her teeth and gnawed at it gently before speaking again.

“Would you … do you wanna get ice cream? After all this?”

Did she just … ask me out? I stared at her for a moment before nodding vigorously.

“Y-yeah. Yeah, I’d like that.”

She looked at the clock on the wall and sighed.

“I guess it’s time to go.”

“Already?” I whined, looking at the clock myself.

“Yeah, I know how you feel.” She chuckled as she packed her things up and I did the same, but slowly; I wanted to spend as much time with her as possible.

“You can take James.” I said softly, putting my bag on my back. “I know you wanna spend time with him before they take him away.”

“I do.” She smiled and approached me.

I looked up at her and licked my lips nervously. Why was I so nervous? She put her hand on the cooler that was sitting on the table in front of me and then bent her head down, pressing her lips to mine ever so slightly.

It was shock that hit me first. I couldn’t believe it was actually happening! Forget about Tom Sullivan - I had Elizabeth Olsen.

I took her face in my hands and kissed her back, smiling when she realized I reciprocated.

We pulled away after a moment and I couldn’t stop the goofy smile that was now plastered on my face.

“I’ll see you tomorrow? After school?”

I nodded, “Definitely. After school.”

She took my hand and James and we walked out of the library. This project was probably the best thing that ever happened to me, despite my distaste for it at first.

We walked to the front of the school, hand in hand, and only parted when we had to go our separate ways.

“Tomorrow?” She asked again, nervously and I nodded.

“Tomorrow.”

I gave her a peck on the lips and she lit up, giving me one back before letting go of my hand and walking off towards where she lived. I watched her retreating back and I smiled to myself.

“All because of an egg.”

[missuswalker]

Welcome!!! Could I please request a soulmate au with Kyle and a fem!reader? Maybe one of the ones where they share emotions / sometimes items from their rooms randomly spawn in the other’s / first words said to each other tattooed somewhere or literally anything that would be fun for you to write??? I literally love soulmate aus so I’m gonna gobble up anything u write no matter what. + I loved your Craig fic so much!!!! Thank you <33

thank you so much!! i love this so much, soulmate aus are so silly and giggly 🤭 (using the item spawning one 🤭)

is that mine? || kyle broflovski x fem reader (soulmate au)

My actually useful shit had been disappearing for weeks. I was constantly loosing pens and pencils as well as the book I was reading for school. What had I gotten from my soulmate? Socks. At least I knew my soulmate had big ass feet.

Coming home from school, I didn't expect to have anything new in my room, but I was wrong. A green notebook sat on my desk, the front covered in random brand stickers. I pick it up, sitting on the edge of my bed, deciding to flip through it. It's not like my soulmate would know that I was snooping.

The pages were filled with neat notes. Scanning over them, I realized they were just about the same as my history notes, just with a little more detail. So we have the same history teacher?

I had found out we went to the same school weeks ago, a South Park Cows sweatshirt winding up on top of my dresser, but I had no clue if we were in any of the same classes. As I continued to flip through the pages, I noticed a page with different handwriting accompanying my soulmate's.

It seemed to be a conversation between two people that went from messy to neat writing, drawings of dicks all over the top of the paper. I look more towards the bottom seeing my soulmate's writing with the words, "stop drawing dicks on my paper, kenny"

Kenny? Kenny McCormick? Well, damn. That crosses Kenny off of the list of possible people my soulmate could be. I was only slightly disappointed. Never once did I see my soulmates name anywhere in the stupid notebook. Tossing it to the side, I go to start on my homework that was due yesterday.

"Really?" I groan, noticing my favorite pen missing from its spot on my desk. I don't know why I liked it so much, it was just funny. It had a stupidly big pompom at the end, frilly ribbon around the rest of it. I end up just using a random pencil I found in the bottom of my bookbag, completing about half of my homework, before deciding I deserved a break.

After, like, three hours of going down a conspiracy theory video rabbit hole on youtube, I end up falling asleep, only to be woken up the next morning by my alarm. After snoozing my alarm multiple times, I finally pull myself out of bed, looking through my clothes.

Would I be insane for wearing my soulmate's hoodie? No, I like living in delusion. Pulling the hoodie over my head, I was quick to notice how clean it smelled. It smelled so much like laundry detergent, I was almost convinced it had never been worn.

Noticing I was already running behind, I finish getting dressed, grabbing my bag and rushing out of my house so I could get to school on time. I pull into the parking lot, deciding to just chill for a minute since I was already late.

Eventually, I ended up dragging myself into my math class, sitting down near the back. Pulling out my notebook and a pencil, I begin to doodle, not too invested in the lesson

"Dude, where the fuck did you get that pen," I hear someone whisper, a snicker coming from the same direction. Looking up, I notice a curly redhead holding a pen. My pen. What the hell?

"Is that mine?" I whisper, gaining the boy's attention. "What? No, it's my soulmate's." He replies, glancing at the hoodie I was wearing, his eyes widening. "That's my pen." I say, before looking down at the hoodie myself. "Is this...?" I begin, the boy nodding. "Mine. Yeah, that's mine."

I found myself just staring at him for a moment, before my lips tug upwards. He was cute. He gives me a bashful grin, handing me my pen.

"I would give you the hoodie, but I'm not wearing anything under it." I say, butterflies erupting in my stomach as I hear him laugh. "That's okay. You can keep it. Did you ever realize my name was on the tag?" He asks, causing my face to drop. "No. Damn, I would've found you a lot faster if I'd seen that," I mumble.

There was a silence, until he sighs, brushing his curly bangs out of his eyes. "Are you free after school?" My smile widens at his question, looking down to my shoes. "Yeah, you gonna ask me out?" I joke. "Maybe. You gonna say yes?" "Maybe."

a/n: GUYS I'VE NEVER WRITTEN A SOULMATE AU I'M SO SORRY, HOPING IT'S CUTE 🤞😍

[theliteratureclubsnewestmember]

My DDLC Headcanons

Pt. 4 Sayori

Researched a bunch of types of poetry before finding what she likes

Her favourite poems are ones about toxic positivity

Tells people her pronouns are she/her but she doesn’t mind if people call her other ones

When she finds a movie she likes she will watch it over and over again until she can quote it

She loves seasonal foods, or things like pumpkin spice latte in autumn and peppermint tea in winter, she’s very into themes

Swears she has a special connection with every animal she sees

Always gets souvenirs when she’s on vacation

She tired to learn how to crochet, but she got frustrated and gave up, but still loves crocheted things

She made her hair bow as a craft in school and she ended up loving it so much

Always does the “skirt go spinny” thing in dresses/skirts

Loves hikes because of the nature but needs frequent breaks from walking

She loves making playlists for particular themes

Loves the look of painted nails but doesn’t have the patience to do her own

Very skilled at math and science, but her favourite classes are English and Art

Doesn’t play instruments but says she plays the ukulele because she has one

She loves going to movie theatres with her friends but not on her own

Not a huge fan of social media but enjoys funny videos/pictures and video essays that Monika sends her

A huge fan of older bands like from the 70’s-80’s, but she loves music in general (loves Queen and ABBA)

Loves stickers and decorates all her school supplies with them

Not a big fan of cleaning, like actually despises it, but she’s really happy when she’s done and rewards herself with a nap

Doodles on all of her schoolwork

Love language is gift giving

When she’s anxious she pulls on her hair

Loves Bridgerton

Her favourite scents are food scents like cookies or cake

Would love to be a teacher one day

Loves games like Stardew Valley and Animal Crossing or anything with cute scenes/animals

Has a journal that she vents in a lot

Has a really hard time falling asleep

Loves creepy/cute music like Baby Bugs

Actually enjoys metal too, especially folk metal and kawaii metal, she also likes Poppy (all eras)

When she was a kid she thought she would dye her hair a bunch of colours when she became a teenager and style it in fun ways

She loves doodling comics, like just to jot down quick story ideas or if she thought an interaction with someone was particularly funny

Likes some anime, but mainly Death Note because she loves Misa

Has a list of characters she would cosplay if she could

Would love to play D&D one day but she can’t bring herself to start to learn the rules and stories

Doesn’t feel pressured to label her sexuality, she likes who she likes and she’s not gonna think too hard about it

Loves those Nutella and stick snacks

She likes sleeping with a lot of pillows

She names her playlists with emojis

Chronic nail picker

Loves those stupid sunglasses that flip up

She doesn’t like bugs but she forces herself to carefully escort the bug outside when she finds one in her home because she wants all life forms to be respected

She traces shapes on her arms when she can’t sleep

She has a few tattoo plans, mostly quotes she loves

Big fan of Franz Kafka

Helps Natsuki dye her roots

She invites the other club members over a lot, she just really loves her friends

She leaves her phone or laptop playing videos or music while she tries to sleep, not always consciously, she just forgets to turn it off sometimes

She loves cherries (canon)

Despite loving snacks, she often doesn’t have many at home, either because she hasn’t bought more or she just can’t get up to get one

She keeps note of subtle things her friends say so she always has gift ideas

Often dissociates at night

Frequently broke/fractured/dislocated bones as a child

Used to do gymnastics, made it to level six before she quit

When she gives gifts, she always puts a handwritten card or letter in with it. She hates store bought cards and believes a card should always be personal when you give a gift to someone you love and care about

Loves going to the mall with her friends, but she gets overwhelmed when she’s by herself

This list is forever updating

[my-own-walker]

Someone You've Never Seen Before

A Kyle Spencer Fan Fiction

frat!kyle AU, fem!main character, sexual themes, mature language, use of drugs and alcohol, frat boy antics

4.

The rest of the weekend went fine. I spent the majority of it dreading class on Monday. For one, I did not want to see how badly I failed Friday's quiz. Also, I especially didn't want to see Kyle. Or Kyle to see me, for that matter. It was weird that he had gone from "just some guy" to someone I couldn't stand in a matter of a day. 

When I sat in the nearly empty lecture hall, I said a silent prayer that Kyle would find himself running early today. He could find a seat next to Archie and I would have a break from him. Instead, though, I sat through an excruciating fifteen minutes of watching people trickle in, filling up the classroom in the usual arrangement. I couldn't even look at the door any longer, for fear of Kyle thinking I might be looking for him. I began doodling in my notebook, idly drawing little faces and flowers while awaiting my impending social doom.

Within seconds, it seemed, a figure slid down into the chair next to mine, landing with a thunk. I didn't dare move a muscle. As if the universe were trying to reward me, our professor began the lecture quickly. I avoided any confrontation with Kyle, at least for the time being.

I took notes rather diligently. There was no way I could stoop as low as to cheat again. Each figure, equation, and concept got hastily scribbled into my notebook. I even threw on my glasses part-way through to see the board better. I didn't wear them often, instead opting to simply sit where I could see well enough. But I meant business.

The class started to go by quickly. The professor began to speak faster in order to cram the content in before the hour was up. I could hardly keep up with the break-neck pace. While flipping my pencil over to erase something I had written, it flew out of my hand and clattered to the ground. Before I could even react, a blonde mop of hair dipped into my periphery.

"Here," Kyle whispered, presenting me with the catapulted writing utensil. 

"Thanks," I replied simply, taking the pencil so I could return to trying to not fail calculus. He smiled genuinely at me, his gaze lingering for longer than I could believe. I returned to writing, but suddenly, it was hard to focus on the task at hand. My stupid brain kept replaying his smile. The way his eyes crinkled, their deep brown color striking me. Stop, Hannah, I scolded myself.

Professor Edwards finally finished lecturing and opened up the room to questions, with just minutes until we were due to leave. I looked at my handiwork in my notebook and found that I hadn't written anything down since dropping my pencil. I covered my face with my hands and rubbed my eyes. How could I let a boy, let alone Kyle Spencer, distract me like that?

I felt Kyle turn his attention to me. In my periphery, I could see that he was looking at me periodically. I tried my best to focus on the last seconds of class time, but it was to no avail. I started packing my things up in defeat.

Kyle was up and out of his seat as soon as our professor said we could leave. I was thankful for it. If he didn't want to chance speaking to me, I sure as hell didn't want to chance it either.

+

The apartment was eerily quiet. I couldn't stand it. 

I was up late, trying to finish a piece for my poetry class. Inspiration hadn't struck me yet and I grew frustrated. It wasn't due until Friday, but if I wanted to pass a calc quiz, I'd have to finish the poem as soon as possible to focus on math for the rest of the week. I stood and stretched, padding over to my bed. The old mattress springs protested as I laid my weary body upon them. 

I stared up at the ceiling, hoping some divine intervention would give me an idea. The poetry prompt was essentially to write about love. It was the first piece that would be due in class, so the professor started with an easy assignment. Well, at least, it was supposed to be. Love is perhaps the easiest, most cliche thing to write about. I think that's why I struggled so much with it.

Out of sheer desperation, I pulled out my phone to scroll through Instagram. Maybe getting the instant dopamine rush of social media would help me feel "love" somehow. I mainly followed other kids from school. My feed was full of party photos, quotes from famous authors, and some indie "aesthetic" accounts' posts.

While scrolling, a quote from Virginia Woolf came up. I was relieved, hoping her great, old words would give me inspiration. "Just in case you ever foolishly forget; I'm never not thinking of you."   I scrolled down, kind of unsatisfied with the quote. The next photo was one posted by my friend Leon. It was a group shot of him and his frat brothers at the TKE party on Friday. In the center of the shot, stood an unmistakable blonde boy. Kyle Spencer.

I threw my phone down onto the bed next to me and groaned aloud. Why can I not get rid of this guy? Why do I see him everywhere now? I thought. I sat up and stared off, wide-eyed, at the corner of my room. I knew what I needed.

Hopping off my bed, I was careful to not make too much noise. I grabbed my laptop and shoved it into my leather messenger bag. I slid the first pair of shoes I could find on, plugged my headphones into my phone, and slipped quietly out of my room. 

My plan was to hit up my favorite late-night coffee shop on campus. The night was dark and humid, smacking me in the face as I stepped out into it. After shoving my headphones into my ears, I put the hood up on my sweatshirt and set off to my insomniac paradise. It was aptly called "Sleepwalker Coffee Co." They knew their audience well. College students need caffeine at all hours of the day.

The walk was short. We lived rather close to the shop. I discovered the place my freshman year and fell in love. When Lily and I were searching for an apartment, I practically begged her, on my hands and knees, to move into the place closest to Sleepwalker. In three years, I essentially ate and drank my way through their entire menu. I walked along the campus streets until I reached the familiar brick exterior of the shop. The door was painted a dark evergreen and held a beautiful wreath of dried flowers. When I stepped in, the warm smell of cinnamon and freshly ground coffee beans calmed my senses.

I nestled into a small booth in the corner of the place. It was unsurprisingly packed in there. Tons of students sat getting work done while fraying their nerves with cups of liquid energy. It was dark and plush in the shop. Velvet seating and dark looming bookshelves surrounded me.  Royal purple drapes hung on the windows. I took the first sip of my chai latte and sighed, smiling softly. 

The world was better at hours like this, I found. No one bothers you. The coffee shop, as busy as it was, felt like my own personal haven. I could sit in peaceful bliss, working away steadily on my laptop. At hours like this, the sky is dark, sparkling with the ethereal promise of a new day. 

Sparkling. The word hung in my mind like how low smoke hangs and swirls around your head in a dark dive bar. What sparkles? I thought. How does love sparkle? It doesn't. But someone can. Someone you love.

That was all the inspiration I needed to get my poem done.

Previous Part | Next Part

[jakekiszska]

playdate

pairing: eddie munson x female!reader

warnings: explicit sexual content, vaginal fingering, spitting, p in v intercourse, tiny bit of a master kink if you squint, spanking, praise kink. (reader and eddie are both 18+).

a/n: pls cut me some slack as a d&d 5e player. i tried my best to write as accurately to 1e & 2e as i could. :)

summary: you finally joined hellfire after months of your best friends begging… but you can’t keep your eyes off him the entire time.

if u see an error no u don’t. :)

word count: 2.9k

“shirt looks good on you.” eddie comments, winking as he passes you in the school hallway.

“thanks, perv.” you joke back, giving him a smirk. he blows you a quick kiss before facing the correct direction and walking down the hallway. you made the decision last week to start playing dungeons and dragons with eddie and his friends, so of course today you had to don your t-shirt.

you entered your final class and sat down, hardly able to focus. who really needed math anyway, right? you stared at the white board as the teacher lectured and wrote formulae down. you couldn’t stay focused, so you let your mind wander.

thinking of it, you probably did need math, especially for your dungeons and dragons game… you’d need to add or subtract your modifiers from your rolls, or add to your attacks… so maybe you’d better pay attention.

your teacher’s monotonous voice was hard to focus on, especially since she never faced the class. you took out your notebook and started scribbling tiny doodles in the corner of the page. a few ideas came to you for playing your character today, so you tried to jot them down as discreetly as you could, passing them off as notes.

you thanked all the deities you knew when the bell finally rang. you met eddie in the parking lot, standing by his van. he was chatting with his friend gareth, but quickly turned his attention to you as you approached.

“ready to go?” he asks, looking you up and down. you nod a quick yes and hop into the passenger seat of his van, throwing your stuff to the floorboard. the drive to your house was quick, but eddie stalled you before you could exit the van and head inside.

“what’s wrong?” he asks, looking over at you with a concerned look. normally you would’ve talked his ear off the whole ride over. you try to assure him that you’re fine.

“hey listen, y/n… you’ve been my best friend for like, i don’t know, six? eight years? i know when something is wrong. spill it.”

you finally turn your head and look at him. “i’m nervous to play tonight. what if i look stupid?”

“babe,” he says affectionately, making your stomach lurch, “we’re a bunch of dudes in high school playing a fantasy table-top roleplay. you’re definitely gonna look weird.” he says casually, a playful tone to his voice. you can’t help but laugh. “it’s gonna be okay. i’ll wait to bring your character into the game that way you can see how everyone else plays, okay?” he asks you, his tone comforting.

“okay, eds. okay. that works.” you say, running your hands down your jeans. you open the van door and hop out, strolling over to your porch. when your feet hit the bottom step, you hear eddie call after you. “pick ya up at 6:40!” he screeches, and then you hear the tires of his van screech too as he backs out of your driveway and drives away maniacally.

you grab yourself a snack from the kitchen once you make it inside, a few strawberries your mom had left over from some cake she decorated.

you take them up to your room and set the plate on your bedside table before grabbing out your books and starting on your homework. stupid math.

you work through as many problems as you can before you can feel your eyelids starting to droop. you close your book and slide it back in your back before taking your plate of strawberry stems to the kitchen and dumping them. you quickly wash the plate and head back to your room, anxiously awaiting your evening.

for the remainder of the time you’re waiting for eddie you clean your room up and then decide to take a quick shower. you tie your hair up in a scrunchie to avoid wetting it and you quickly go through your routine. once you’re out you decide instead of wearing your jeans again that you’ll slip on a black skirt that sits just above your knee, and your hellfire shirt.

finally, 6:40 approaches, and just as he promised eddie is in your driveway at that exact moment. you grab your notebook and a pen along with the dice set he gave you and run out to meet him.

you hop in the van and your nerves return, but you try to play it cool. you make it to the school and you’re let in by some of the faculty who have to facilitate after school gatherings, but eddie assures you none of them ever sit in on the sessions.

he gets all of his stuff laid out and puts up his dm screen before sitting down on this throne-like chair. you try not to stare at him, but the way he’s sitting so relaxedly with his legs spread open is making you squirm.

you’d always thought eddie was attractive, but something about him being in his element like this was really tempting to you, and you figured that’s why you were so nervous to play.

all of his friends start pouring into the room and taking their places and eddie has to quiet them down a few times before he can begin.

“y/n won’t be playing immediately, but if you don’t mind would you tell us your characters race and class please?” he asks you, his tone a lot softer than what he uses for the boys.

“um, my character is a hobbit and my class is cleric.” you say nervously, staring at the table.

“a hobbit, huh?” eddie teases. “that’s accurate.”

you can hear his friends dustin and mike laughing insanely loud at his jest. “shove it, henderson.” you say, finally scanning the room. “you’re about 4’6, yeah?” you joke.

the rest of the room laughs at your joke and after a minute more of teasing you get right into the game. eddie was able to work your character in as someone the party met at some stables, and they figured they’d need your spellcasting abilities to help them in battle.

the session goes on for a while and you’re really having a lot of fun, but you can’t take your eyes off of eddie. his facial expressions, his tone of voice, all the gestures he makes towards the party. he’s so immersed and it’s driving you a little crazy. seeing him so passionate is nothing less than hot to you.

it’s time to wrap the game up and you’re just finishing your battle when it’s dustin’s turn to roll for attack. he just makes it and the room erupts, cheering that he finally slayed the beast you’d been fighting.

“congratulations, henderson. describe the killing blow.” eddie beams. dustin goes on to describe some disgustingly gruesome scene and you continue to stare at eddie until he catches your eye, to which you finally look away. when dustin is done talking everyone clears out, leaving you and eddie alone to pick up so he can take you home.

“you did so well tonight! i was so proud of you!” he beams, reaching out to ruffle your hair. his praise makes your body stiffen.

“something wrong?” he asks, walking up behind you and placing his chin on your shoulder. you’re not sure if you can make words but you try to force them out anyway. “um, no eds. i-i’m fine!” you manage, shuffling away from him. his hand catches your hip and spins you around to face him.

“really? you seemed to be staring at me the whole game. have i upset you?” he ponders, leaning in so his breath fans your face. it smells slightly smoky and slightly like mint, and you’re dizzy for a moment.

you assure him he hadn’t, and once again you try to move away, but his grip tightens. “well, i’m really proud of you.” he reiterates, watching you squirm under his gaze. you can almost feel your cheeks flush and your pupils dilate.

he leans in even closer, speaking into your ear. “do you like when i tell you how good you are?” he asks, his voice a bit lower, a tinge raspier.

“oh fuck off, eddie.” you choke out, pushing a hand against his chest.

“is that any way to talk to your dungeon master?”

he pulls away from your face slightly and tilts up your chin with his pointer finger. “my apologies master,” you tease sarcastically, “forgive me?”

this time it’s your turn to taunt him, so you push your hand up his chest and wrap it around the back of his throat, playing with the hair at the nape of his neck. he takes a step closer to you and you shudder when you realize just how close he is to you.

“that’s a pretty little skirt you have on.” he whispers. your whole body shudders. “eddie..” you whine, tugging at his hair lightly.

“hmmm.. what is it baby?” he leans in so your noses are touching. “please eddie, kiss me.” you beg, your voice an octave higher than usual. he places his left hand on your other hip before finally closing the gap between your lips.

you aren’t expecting his lips to be so soft. you also aren’t expecting to feel so drunk off his kiss immediately. it’s experimental, but it quickens. he swipes his tongue along your bottom lip and you part your lips for him. he slides his tongue into your mouth and he moans as he feels you suck on it gently.

his hands have made their way around your backside and he slips one past your skirt, keeping it still until he can gauge your reaction. when you don’t stop him, he grabs a handful of your ass before lifting you up and placing you on the nearby table. you whine into his kiss and he presses himself between your legs.

you kiss each other hungrily for what feels like hours until you finally pull away. “hey, let’s get outta here.” you propose, and he nods, moving away so you can grab all of his stuff. his expression takes on that of a lost puppy.

you grab him by the arm and he looks over at you, so you reassure him. “eds, i didn’t wanna stop… i just don’t really wanna fuck in the school after hours.”

“f-fuck,” he stammers, “you wanna.. we’re gonna.. oh my god we’re gonna fuck?”

you shake your head yes at him. “if you want to… let’s go back to your place?” you ask. “hell yeah. hell yes we are going to my place!” he says ecstatically. you grab up all of his stuff and practically race out to his van. he gets you back to his uncle's place in record time and you go in quickly, headed for his room.

once you’re in you waste no time in reconnecting your lips to his. he disconnects to pull his shirt over his head and you moan when you can see all of his tattoos. you lightly scrape your nails over them before reaching behind you and unzipping your skirt, letting it fall to the floor.

“cute panties.” he says smugly, and you slap his arm. you made sure to wear one of your favorite pairs, baby blue and cotton with a pink heart on the front. he sits back on his bed against the headboard and you crawl into his lap, leaning down to kiss his neck. his hands find your hips and he moans as you lick a stripe just below his ear, biting it seconds after.

“kiss me again.” he says, his raspy tone going straight to your core. you connect your lips with his and soon after your tongues are meeting, sliding against each other as you makeout hungrily. your hips start grinding involuntarily but he uses his grip on your hips to help you. you can feel your cheeks flush.

“no need to be embarrassed baby,” he says, almost reading your mind, “if it feels good, then do it. feel how hard i am?”

and you could. you could tell he was straining as you continued to grind your now soaked panties across his lap. after a few more minutes you’re mewling and whining loudly, then you finally beg him to touch you.

“what do you want?” he asks lowly, hands palming at your ass. “want you to touch me, eddie. please.” you whine, arching into him. he slides you off his lap and pushes you down onto the bed so that your back is arched, in a face down ass up position.

“okay, princess,” he teases, rubbing your left thigh softly, “but first you need a punishment for how you talked to me earlier. remember that?”

you let out a deep whine as you feel him grab your panties and rip them down your legs. you clench as you feel the cool air hit your core. “just one, okay? that’s all.” he says, massaging your ass. a second later his hand is gone, and is quickly replaced again with a loud crack. you could feel the cool metal of his rings stinging against your ass sharply. seconds later he leans in to kiss the spot, a gesture to make sure you’re okay.

when he can tell you’re fine he rolls you over onto your back and slides your panties off your legs completely, tossing them to the floor. he pushes your thighs apart and stares down at you, fully exposed for him.

“fuck.” he groans, taking all of you in. “you have the prettiest pussy i’ve ever seen.”

you blush at his comment and throw your arm over your face to hide it. you feel him run two fingers along your slit to gather some of your slick before dipping them into you. he leans down and spits on your clit before his thumb from his other hand rubs tight circles into it. your back arches and you begin to work your hips in time with his hands.

“fuck yeah, baby. fuck yourself on my hands. that’s my good girl.”

my good girl. you shudder again.

“eddie, i’m close!” you warn, his fingers curling inside of you and working your g-spot deliciously. “come on then, lemme see that little pussy cum for me.” he commands, and you’re teetering over the edge. it’d been a while since you came that hard, and eddie wears a proud smirk as he watches your legs shake with aftershocks.

he stands from the bed and you look him up and down, eagerly watching as he unclasps the handcuffs on his belt. his zipper is down soon after and then he’s shuffling out of his jeans, not leaving you much to the imagination. your mouth waters as you see the outline in his briefs - and he is big.

you didn’t notice your mouth hanging open. he sheds his underwear before crawling over you and you admire how tidy his pubic hair is kept… and then you wonder if that’s weird. you won’t say anything.

he positions himself between your legs and leans down to kiss your neck, whispering to you teasingly. “what’s wrong, worried it won’t fit?”

“i don’t care. i want it.” you assure him, and he slides his tip through your folds quickly before pressing his cock inside of you finally. you take it slowly, inch by inch, until he’s bottomed out.

tears prick at the corners of your eyes because of the stretch, but he wipes them away sweetly. “it’s okay, we’re gonna take our time.” he promises, and you lightly tug at his hair. “you can move, please move.”

he pulls his hips back slowly before rutting into you again, working at a slow but delicious pace. “fuck eds, that f-feels so fucking good.” you whine, your hands still tugging at his hair. each time you pull on his hair it spurs him to go faster, and soon he’s pounding into you so hard that you barely recognize the voice coming from your throat.

his fingers dig into your hips and you know the indentions from his rings will leave bruises for you to admire for days. he’s letting out soft moans above you and if he hadn’t been speaking to you so filthy this entire time they’d almost warm your heart.

“i’m not gonna last.” he warns you, his hips snapping into yours quickly. you reach your hand down between your bodies and start to rub your clit, to which he lets out a filthy whine.

“cum for me, baby. let me feel it. cum for me again.” he coaxes, his breathing laboured. a few seconds later you feel the band snap again and your body arches upward as your second orgasm hits you, the sensation washing over you and making you lose vision for a second.

seconds later he pulls out and finishes himself off in his hand.

“holy shit. you’ve been keeping that from me?” he laughs, wiping his hand with some article of clothing he found on the floor. “you could’ve had it if you’d asked.” you tell him, being completely honest.

he walks back over to you and leans down to place a gentle kiss to your forehead. when he pulls back a playful smirk tugs at his lips. “well in that case, do you wanna fuck?”

you grab a pillow from his bed and smack him with it before he lunges at you, pressing kisses into your neck and softly tickling your sides. “i think i really like this, eds.”

“me too.” he assures you, laying down and pulling you onto his chest.

tags: @alwayzthere @strangersingold @garbagevanfleet @harmonyhous @obetrolncocktails (message me to be added!)

[rosemaryandarsenic]

The Sid to my Nancy

pairing| Gareth x f!reader

readersynopsis| Y/N and Gareth finally get together after a Halloween party

warnings|SMUT! 18+ only as always, minors DNI. TW: Vomit lol. Includes a little bit of hurtxcomfort, mentions panic attacks, biting, fingering, oral sex, and dirty talk! and cursing. Also unprotected sex!

AN: I hate the whole Sid and Nancy story IRL, but its a cute idea so I ran with it. Inspired by an Eddie prompt I saw recently, I HAD to write it for Gareth. As always, I don’t have any sexual writing for underage characters so Gareth is like 18-19 in this, as is the reader. Hope you enjoy <3

Gareth flicked his pen against the notebook in front of him, face scrunched in irritation. Fall classes at the local community college had started, and he hadn’t seen the harm in taking a few before deciding if he wanted a degree. Y/N sat across from him, intently staring at her textbook, headphones on. Her hair fell across her cheek, fingers fidgeting over her lips. Gareth was doing his best to concentrate and had failed, his eyes going to the hair on her cheek, the way she absentmindedly brushed her lips, as he tapped his pen. Y/N never noticed the drumming anymore, she was used to it after years of being in close proximity. She didn’t look up until the vibration of Gareth’s tapping on the table woke her from her reading. 

“You good?” Y/N asked, catching Gareths gaze as she removed her headphones. 

“Yah, yah, just…yknow…studying.” He nodded, still absentmindedly drumming his fingers. 

Y/N smirked as she watched his hands move, “sure, studying.” She laughed. 

“Let me see.” She said, grabbing his notebook. 

“God your notes suck.” She laughed again.

“Like yours are any better.” Gareth chuckled, “I don’t know why we need to take math again anyways.” 

Y/n blushed slightly at the mention of her notes, then recovers quickly, nodding to his statement. He brushed off the strange response. 

“If you swap the 2 here and divide this, it makes more sense.” She says, pointing to the section he’d been working on.

“Oh…” he mumbled, staring at the page. “Can I see how you did it?”

She looks confused as she searches through her bag, “I left my notes at home.” She shrugs, and he groans. 

As Gareth gets back to his math work, Y/N gets lost in her thoughts. Her math notebook was not at home, in fact, it was tucked between two other books in her bag. It wasn’t that she cared about him copying her work, it was the idea that he’d see her other notes. She groaned internally. In class, she’d been distracted, absent-mindedly doodling, when she realized she’d sketched a tiny heart in the margins. Her initials, and Gareths, stared back at her from the page and she couldn't bare erasing them. It was stupid really, she was literally a college student with a crush. She’d known Gareth since elementary school and knew his gross habits (the way he refused to wash his flannels until they smelled so bad his mom threatened to burn them lol). Her crush had started innocently enough, little glances here and there during freshman year. It had gotten worse when Gareth had started dating sophomore year. No one lasted long, but every escapade had left Y/N with a dull ache in the pit of her stomach. Senior year, she'd been high as shit and doodled his name in the waistband of her underwear. She blushed at the remembrance of it, chiding herself for the way she let her eyes linger too long on him. Despite being embarrassed, she never got rid of the underwear, and still wore them when she was feeling insecure. The secret of his name being tucked so close to her made her feel bolder somehow. 

“I got it!” He said with an exhale of relief, slamming his book shut. His rings clinked as he moved.

Y/N smiled, closing her own book. “Finally, Jesus.” She responded, “can we please go get coffee now?” 

He nodded, slinging his bag over his shoulder, waiting for her to pack up. 

“Actually, i’ll meet you in the car.” She said, “I forgot something in my English class.”

“M’kay,” he shrugged. “Meet you in the car.”

Y/N bolted down the hall as soon as he was out of eyesight, and headed for the bathrooms. Closing herself in a stall, she pulled out her math notebook and ripped the heart from the corner of the page. With a sigh, she flushed it down the toilet, leaning her head against the cold metal of the stall door. 

Snap out of it. 

…

A few days later:

Y/N stared in the mirror, adjusting her bangs one last time and yawning loudly as she heard Gareth and Eddie pull up outside. Since her dad had gone to prison, and the trailer was paid off, she lived alone. It came with a lot of benefits, and a lot of downsides, one of which was the bills. Y/N worked two jobs while in school to make ends meet, and she was tired. Sometimes she wondered if the lack of sleep made her delirious, seeing things that weren’t there. Nightmares of monsters, like slimy dogs with split faces. Lights that flickered too often and sounds out in the night. It was in those moments of feeling overwhelmed that she relied heavily on her best friends, all of hellfire really, but especially Eddie and Gareth. They’d been an unbreakable trio since fifth grade when Eddie had walked into lunch, head shaved and D&D book in hand. College hadn’t changed much, they were all relived to be out of high-school, doing what they wanted for the most part. She heard the front door swing open and a grunt, as Eddie tripped over game pieces on the floor. An empty trailer gave them a new location for meetings, and they hadn’t bothered to clean up after yesterdays meet. 

“Can you maybe not fuck up my living room, or does it just come naturally?” Y/N laughed as she walked out, Eddie stuck his tongue out at her as he knelt to pick up the pieces. 

He whistled as he looked up, grinning. “Nancy Spungen huh? Nice. Where’s your Sid?”

“Still looking.” Y/N laughed, grabbing her rings from the counter. 

Gareth honked outside, as Eddie grabbed several packs of beer from the fridge. The sounds of Metallica echoed as Y/N locked the door and hiked her way to the car, her heels sinking into the soft ground. Her outfit was more extra than her usual denim and band tee, and she’d added her lucky underwear as a final touch. 

“These shoes are gonna kill me.” She huffed as she climbed in the back seat, leather pants sticking to the seat as she tried to settle among the loose band equipment. 

“Nancy Spungen?” Gareth asked, from the drivers seat, with a laugh.

“Why are you laughin-“ She cut off as she caught sight of him, his brown hair spiked out in all directions. Gareth was decked out in all black, a spiked leather jacket and chains adorning his torso. “You’re joking.” She laughed, trying not to blush and throwing Eddie a look as he slid into the passenger side with a devilish grin. He always seemed to know her little secret but he never said anything aloud. Little shit. 

“Sid Vicious at your service.” Gareth laughed. 

“This is why we should’ve talked about our costumes in advance.” Y/N whined, “no way I’m getting laid now.” 

Eddie chuckled, elbowing Gareth, “told you she liked the movie.” 

“Of course I did.” She rolled her eyes, and reached over the consul from the back to turn up the radio. “Speaking of costumes, Ed’s, where is yours?”

“I’m Eddie Van Halen.” He chuckled as Gareth and Y/N groaned. “What?! Its easy.” He lit a blunt, passing it back. 

The drive to the party was quick, thankfully, because Y/N wanted nothing more than to get out of the car. She’d planned to make tonight a new beginning, get smashed, flirt a little, maybe mess around. But there he was, freckles and pink lips, looking like the devil incarnate. The Sid to her Nancy, without the murder. Maybe she should’ve gone with Carrie. 

As they pulled in, she smiled at the smoke and lights in everyones yards, people milling around in clown costumes and plastic masks. Halloween had always been her favorite holiday, a day for treats and dressing the way you actually wanted to without judgment. 

Synth music was blaring as they stepped inside, and she felt the weed hit, relaxing her muscles and making the lights twinkle brighter. Tonights going to be good. 

Hours passed as she drank and danced, talking to friends from class and old classmates from high school. It was nearing midnight when she felt a hand on her shoulder, she turned to see Eddie. He motioned for her to follow, and she did, dazed from social interaction and the mix of substances. 

“Time for some air,” he said as he pulled her onto the porch to sit, handing her a water. 

“God, thank you.” She whispered, taking a sip greatfully. “What time is it?”

“Midnight.” He mumbled as he slipped a cigarette in between his lips. She watched as he expertly lit it against the wind and inhaled deeply. Eddie always seemed to do things so easily, like it came naturally for him to be wild. She envied it. 

“What.” He nudged her knee, taking another drag.

“Ehh. Nothing.” 

“Quit being coy, sweetheart. You’re a bad liar.”

“I’m not!”

“You are.” He said, making eye contact and refusing to break it. 

She shifted, not replying.

“If its about Sid over there, I’m gonna pry it out of you eventually, you know that right?” He said, still staring at her as he gestured to Gareth, who was arguing with Jeff a few yards away. His hair had started to fall, the curls showing around his neck. He’s so…pretty. 

“Goddamnit Eddie.” She said, tugging at her hair. 

“Goddmanit yourself, dumbass, now spill.” He retorted, rolling his eyes. 

“Nothing to spill, its stupid and its nothing.”

He laughed. “I’m so convinced.”

“Im serious, Eddie. Okay?”

“No.” He raised an eyebrow. “If I have to watch you make googly eyes at him one more time im gonna slap the shit out of you.”

“Are you fucking drunk?” She said, a little to harshly.

“You wish princess, like I said, you’re just a shit liar.”

She was feeling neaseous now, unwilling to have this conversation. 

“I see the way you look at him, Y/N.” Eddie said.

“Looks at who?” Gareth asked, sauntering up with Jeff and reaching for one of Eddie’s cigarettes.

“N-nobody.” She stuttered, looking anywhere else in an attempt to avoid eye-contact. She jumped up, almost toppling over from the awkward stability of her heels. Gareth caught her arm and she practically jumped away muttering something about needing to pee as Eddie snorted. 

“What’s wrong with her?” Gareth turned to Eddie, who shrugged.

“Trouble with Sid,” Eddie chuckled, “why don’t you go ask?”

Jeff and Eddie gave each other a look as Gareth watched Y/N disappear inside. 

The bathroom smelled like puke and cheap perfume, Y/N slamming the door shut behind her as she gasped for air. This was so stupid, Eddie was just prodding her because of the alcohol, right? She just needed to steel her nerves, go out there and dance again. Fuck this. She spun too fast and was hit with another wave of dizziness as she heard a knock at the door. 

“Y/N? You good in there?” Fuck. It was Gareth. FUCK.

“Im fine!” She mumbled, feeling the bile rise in her throat. Fuck.

The door knob turned and he slid in as she collapsed in front of the toilet, heaving.

“Oh shit, hey hey.” He carefully scooped her hair in his hands, holding it back and away from the mess. “Its okay, I got you.” He whispered, as she squirmed. 

She couldnt stop heaving, only feeling slightly less anxious as it all came up. She finally slowed, coming up for air and grabbing for the toilet paper. Mascara was running down her face and she really didn’t want anyone else here but she couldnt speak yet. 

“This is bad timing probably but uh…why do your underwear have my name on them?” He asked quietly, still holding her hair, the skull on the chain around his neck bouncing on her shoulder. 

She froze. Oh shit. OH SHIT. Grasping at the rim of the toilet bowl she turned awkwardly, panicking, racking her mind for a response. “I…don’t know.”

He looked at her funny, reaching out with tissue paper to wipe her chin. She was burning alive, could feel the bile rising again and tears peaking behind her eyes. 

“Did you?” He gestured towards her waist where the leather pants had ridden down, exposing the pink lace and sharpie. 

She groaned and leaned over the bowl again, staring at the water and truing not to scream into the bowl. HOW could she be so stupid, writing his name on her underwear of all places. What the hell was she thinking. 

“Can you please look at me?” He scooted closer, “im not mad, I uh -“

“I’m sorry, its stupid.” She yelped, still leaning over the bowl.

“It’s not stupid.” He laughed, “its kind of…cute?”

“Cute?” She sat up, holding onto a roll of toilet paper for dear life. “You think its cute?!”

“I mean its weird, yeah, but like…”

“Like what?” She looked flustered, cheeks burning and hair flying everywhere.

“Like..like its hot. Uh…I mean its like you’re labeling your…yknow.”

I am going to astral project out of this house from embarrassment. 

“Listen we don’t have to talk about it right now, you don’t look like you’re having a good time.” He mumbled, and she noticed he was turning pink as well.

“Why don’t you get yourself cleaned up and ill take you home, mkay?” He said. 

She nodded. 

She stayed on the floor as he got up and closed the door behind him. FUCK. Fuck. 

…

Gareth stood on the other side of the door, waiting for y/n to come out. He felt the burn on his cheeks and couldn’t even try to hide it. His name, on her underwear. HIS name. He couldnt think of many reasons why a girl would have someones name written in their fucking underwear, and was trying not to let his imagination run wild. He’d always liked Y/N, since middle school, but she was so focused. So smart, and driven. She didn’t make time for relationships, said so herself many times. So he’d resigned himself to keeping their friendship going, but there she was, on the other side of the door with his name tucked into her pants like a secret label of ownership. He was too overwhelmed for this, only two beers in and feeling woozy. He couldnt tell if it was everything he’d just seen or if it was the booze, but he took in deep breaths to settle himself. Eddie sauntered over, seeing him hover by the door. 

“She in there?” He gestured to the door. Gareth nodded.

“You good?” Eddie whispered, raising an eyebrow. 

Gareth glanced at the door and slid over a few steps, Eddie moving with him as he leaned in to catch whatever gareth was trying to say. 

“She uh…she’s vomiting,” Eddie winced, still listening. “But dude. She uh…she…” gareth was blushing and Eddie shoved his shoulder. 

“She what?”

“She wrote my name on her underwear.” Gareth blurted, staring at Eddie. 

Eddies eyes widened, and he set down his beer. He looked stressed, rubbing his eyes. “Did she say anything?”

“No!” Gareth was sweating, “Does she…?” He stared at Eddie. “Did she say something to you?”

Eddie opened his mouth to speak as they heard the door open beside them, Y/N walking out. She turned and saw them standing there, eddies expression shifting quickly. The three of them stood there for a split second as they waited for someone to say something, anything. 

Gareth cleared his throat. “You ready to go?”

Y/N nodded, “Are we dropping Eddie off first?” 

Eddie shook his head, “actually, uh, Jeff said he would.”

Y/N looked between the two of them and then turned and walked away, towards the door. 

Eddie grabbed Gareth’s jacket as he started to follow and whispered in his ear quickly, “fucking go for it.”

Gareth exhaled and nodded, slapping eddies arm as he followed Y/N to the car. 

The car ride back was quiet, y/n staring straight ahead wordlessly. Gareth’s palms were sticking to his steering wheel as he struggled to find any words at all to ease the silence.

“How’re you feeling?” He asked finally. 

She still looked ahead, her face blooming with color again, “fine now.”

He nodded carefully. 

She didn’t move when he parked, she just sat, like she was trying to work up the nerve.

“About the bathroom…” she trailed, “Im sorry.”

“You really don’t need to apologize.”

She chuckled, and went quiet again. 

“There’s no chance you’re gonna forget this in the morning is there?” She asked. 

He laughed softly, “not a chance.”

She turned to look at him. “Were you serious about…about it being cute?”

He blushed again, and nodded. “Guys dream about that kind of shit so yeah.”

She blushed deeper, and turned away, opening her car door. 

Leaning in after she got out, she said, “do you wanna come in for a bit or are you going back?”

He tried not to jump out of the car head first, “nah, I can come in!”

“I need to brush my teeth.” She said, running for the bathroom as they walked in the door. 

Gareth tried to situate himself on the sofa, but couldn’t seem to get comfortable. What the fuck am I doing, he said to himself, standing up and walking towards the bathroom. 

The door was open, and he knocked on the frame to let her know he was there. She spat out the last of the toothpaste, and leaned against the edge of the tub with a towel in her hands. 

“So…uh.” He started, and she giggled, burying her face in her hands. 

“I really am sorry, I ruined everything.” She groaned, still covering her face.

“You really didn’t.” he laughed, sitting down on the tub next to her. 

“Its probably time I said something anyway,” she whispered. “Apparently according to Eddie, it’s written all over my face.” She sighed. 

“A little bit, but its fine.” He whispered back, staring at the way her thighs spread agains the edge of the tub, fighting against the leather that constricted them. “Its not like I’m exactly subtle either.”

She gave him a surprised look, “what?”

“You can’t tell?” Gareth said, his chest tightening at the realization. She has no idea, does she?

“No?” She said, looking at him intently now. 

He shifted, trying to ease the anxiety in his stomach. “I’ve always liked you, y/n.” He exhaled at the admission, and her jaw dropped. 

She didn’t say anything so he continued. “You always said you didn’t have time for sappy stuff like relationships and I thought…yknow, I thought that included me. Then I saw your underwear and I swear I wanted to pin you to the floor then and there.”

She was pink now, watching him talk, eyes wide and lashes fluttering. He couldn’t help but stare at her lips, the way they curved, the plumpness of them. His heart was pounding, hard.

“Pin me to the floor and do what?” She said, breathy, leaning in. 

His eyes darted from her eyes to her lips a few times, before he leaned in and placed a soft kiss on her jaw, slowly moving down towards her neck as she gasped. 

“That,” he whispered, “and this.” He gripped her hips and pulled her towards him, sliding his hands over her ass and the small of her back as he continued devouring her neck. She moaned into the crook of his neck, as she kissed him back. 

Gareth felt like he was going to combust, the friction of her legs against him awakening the rumble in his gut that he shoved away so many times. She’s so warm and so close, he thought, cherishing the feel of her lips on him as she moaned softly. It was unlike anything he’d dreamed of, felt better than he could’ve imagined. He’d spent so many nights with his hand wrapped around his dick, picturing her hands instead, her mouth. He moaned now too, heat radiating between them as they slid off the side of the tub and onto the tile floor, grabbing at each other frantically. She pulled off his jacket, hands running over his clothed chest as she straddled him. 

“You’re so pretty,” he whispered, letting her fingers dig into his skin as she panted, “so pretty.” He mumbled.

She leaned down, her movements making him grunt as he felt her warmth over his hardening cock. “Is this okay?” She whispered, running her hands under the hem of his shirt. He nodded aggressively, taking her hands in his own and pushing them up further. She flushed at the feeling of his skin, the sight of his happy trail as she pushed his shirt up and over his head. He craned his neck to kiss her as she pulled his shirt away, both of them gasping for air as she ground herself against his hips and wrapped her fingers in his hair. The spikes had fallen completely now, and his curls stuck to his forehead he watched her move against him. Pausing for a breath as she continued to grind on him, he stuttered, “we should get off the floor.” His head arched back as she nodded, hips grinding into him harder and slower, making no move to get off him. “Y/N, up.” He growled, thrusting his hips up as he spoke. She slowed, standing carefully, whining at the lack of him between her legs. 

They barely made it into the hall when he pushed her up against the wall, slamming his mouth to her's and kissing her deeply. His hands pinned hers against the wall and he panted, refusing to break the kiss as she wiggled, trying to break her hands free to touch him. 

“Be a good girl and let me look at you,” he whispered, planting kisses on her jaw. She complied, and he let go, watching intently as she unbuttoned her pants and peeled them away. Her legs were red, indents left from his belt buckle on her torso, and she wobbled as she pulled off her spiky boots. He could see how damp she was already, the folds of her pink underwear soaked. He leaned in, stabilizing her as he took in the sight of her from head to toe, slowly unbuttoning the cheetah print vest she wore as she reached for his pants this time, pawing at his hard member. “Fuck,” she groaned, hands stroking him as she met his gaze. “I have thought about this so many times.”

He chuckled, kissing her again as he pulled the vest away and cupped her breast with his hands, running his fingers over her nipples. “How many times.” He whispered.

“E-Every night,” she mewled.

He pulled back, eyebrows raised. “Every night?” 

She giggled, “every. Single. Night.” He was so hard now, his dick was losing circulation in the confines of his jeans. He clawed at his belt buckle, unclasping it.

“No bra and those pretty little panties,” he groaned, “you’re killing me.” 

He pulled his jeans down, not bothering to move them off his feet as he grabbed her and spun her around so her back was facing him.

Leaning down he traced the outline of her underwear with his thumb, “is that why you did this?” He asked, grabbing her ass cheek and making her lean back into him with another moan. 

“Mhhmmm.” she panted again, arching her back as he slid his hands around her, dipping them under the little bow in the front, teasing her. 

“do you know what that does to me?” he whispers, fingers inching towards her folds. She cried out at he finally swiped across her slit. She was shaking, hands up and behind her, looped around his neck, ass grinding into him and chest stinging against the cold air. 

“You should’ve told me sooner,” he mumbles, drawing circles around her clit and kissing her neck, “all those nights alone, pretty girl. I would’ve kept you warm.” 

Her legs were trembling as she replied, “what about you, Gareth? Did you think of me?”

He let out a low groan, pushing into her with one finger. “Every goddamn night.” 

She was crying out now, pushing against his fingers and he savored it. “You know that picture of you from last summer?” He muttered, “the one where you’re laying in the sun in your swimsuit?”

She nodded, unable to form words. 

“I keep it on the ceiling above my bed.” He groaned, humping her softly as he felt her orgasm coming. “So I can look at you when I jerk off. Those pretty lips, and those tits.” He moaned again, and she could feel his dick throbbing against her. 

She crumbled, moaning loudly as she came on his fingers, still grasping at him. 

“Such a good girl,” he growled, “so pretty.” He didn’t stop grinding into her as he pulled his fingers away, and reached for the waistband on his boxers. 

“Let me do it.” She panted, turning to face him and grabbing the elastic. Her mouth watered as she pulled them down, freeing his thick cock. 

“I wanna feel you.” He whined, grabbing for her. “Please, Y/N.” 

She grabbed his hand and pulled him to the ground, gasping as he climbed on top of her, pulling her panties off and settling between her legs. 

“This okay?” he whispered, lining himself up with her entrance. She rutted her hips up into him, pushing him in some of the way and he moaned, quickly pushing his cock deeper. 

“Oh my god.” He panted, thrusting in until he bottomed out and slowly pulling out before he slammed in again. “You’re so wet, Jesus Christ.” 

She was grinding into him, his balls slapping against her ass as he thrusted steadily. They both moaned loudly, he was sure the neighbors could hear it outside and he didn’t care. He just kept pounding into her, loving the way her walls squeezed against him, the way she was moaning his name. 

“Come for me, baby.” He growled, quickening his pace. That was all she needed as she felt her orgasm explode around her, losing vision for a second at the intensity of his thrusts still pounding into her. 

“I’m gonna -“ he whined, thrusts getting sloppy.

“Come inside me.” She moaned, locking her legs around his waist. “I- I’m on the pill, please, I wanna feel it. Please!” She was begging, moaning as he felt the knot building in his stomach. 

With one last thrust, he came hard, painting her insides white, cock twitching. 

“Oh my god.” She whimpered, walls clenching around him, mascara running even more. “Holy shit.”

He laughed, carefully pulling out once her shaking subsided. 

“Hang on, let me get you something.” He pulled himself up, ripping off the rest of his pants as he grabbed a washcloth from the bathroom and ran it under warm water. 

“Here you go, pretty girl.” He said gently as he wiped her off carefully, trailing kisses on her torso and thighs.

She sat up suddenly, surprising him. “Gareth,” she said shakily, eyes watering, “can we get pizza?”

He fell back laughing, “you scared me, Jesus Christ.” 

She crawled over and snuggled into him, “sorry.” She giggled.

“I’ll make you a deal,” he whispered, “You be the Sid to my Nancy and you can have all the pizza your little heart desires.” 

She smiled, “can we be gomez and morticia instead?” 

His heart melted a little. “We can be anything you want, babygirl.”

[thora-jane]

I've Already Lost pt.ii (TASM! Peter x Reader)

(a/n): Hi again! I tried to write more of this but it still doesn't feel done. Either way, here's part 2! Little less angsty but it's not quite happy either. If you want to be tagged in this series or any of my other work, lmk. Thank you, and please comment/reblog since it lets me know if people want me to keep writing <3

Summary: It's the Monday after, and though you're trying to just make it through the day, things are far from normal.

Word count: 2,566

Previous | Next

It was the Monday after you ran from Peter’s apartment, and as much as you hated to go back to class, your mom wasn’t buying any fake sickness. So instead, as you walked up the steps to Midtown High, you prayed that you wouldn’t have to talk to Peter. What you needed was a miracle, since he sat next to you in 2 of your 3 shared classes, as well as lunch. As the bell rang for your first class, you looked at the seat next to you; empty.

You could have sworn you saw him with Gwen in the hallway earlier, but you may have imagined it. Either way, you sat through science rather bored and struggling to take notes. Why couldn’t Pete be here to kick your foot under your desk or lean over and scribble on your papers when you weren’t looking? First period felt like the longest 45 minutes of your life and you had a feeling things would most likely get worse.

Next came math, where you sat on the opposite side of the class from Peter. It was then that your heart sank. Because there he was, sitting behind Gwen, smiling as he doodled on the palm of her hand. You looked down at your own hand, it had been months since he had drawn or written anything on your palm or wrist. But you remembered how before Gwen came along, your hand looked like the side of a freight car, full of pictures and phrases and assorted swear words, and Peter writing his signature in different funky styles.

You shoved your hands in your pocket and glued your eyes to your desk, you pretended not to notice how their laughter turned into soft whispers you couldn’t make out from the front of the room. God, you hated math. You hated numbers. You hated this stupid desk and you hated this stupid school. And you hated stupid, stupid Peter Parker, who was going to skip every class you had alone together so he could avoid you. He was probably going to skip lunch too, the asshole.

Asshole.

Who were you kidding? You were an asshole. You ruined Pete’s life by running out like that. Why did you have to be so selfish? Couldn’t you just be happy that he was happy? Why did you have to go and ruin things?

Did Gwen know?

You dared a glance over your shoulder at them. When she caught you looking her way, Gwen smiled, giving a subtle half-wave so as to not get caught by the teacher. Peter, however, kept his gaze fixed up at the board. You could see his desk shaking from the way his leg was bouncing so violently, and his eyes almost looked as if they were frozen too stiffly into place.

He definitely hadn’t told her.

It seemed like hours had passed, but eventually, the bell rang. You hurried to gather your things and bolted out the door before Peter had the chance to stop you. He didn’t even try, but even if he wanted to, you made sure you got out too fast for him to even think about it.

Gwen however, had managed to weave her way through the hallways and fall into step with you.

“Hey, (y/n)? Is everything ok with you and Peter? Neither of you have been answering my texts,” Her voice seemed more filled with worry than accusatory. Of course. How could you have forgotten? You and Gwen had the same English class.

“Gwen…” you started before you checked the time. Your class was just down the hall and you still had 5 minutes, “I need to be honest with you.”

“(y/n), what happened?” Her hand was on your shoulder, and her brows knit together with concern.

“Pete and I have been friends for a long time,” You started, trying your best not to turn away and run, “And I guess somewhere along the way…shit,” you whispered under your breath, “somewhere along the way I developed feelings for him. And I finally told him Friday night. He didn’t seem too thrilled about it, and honestly, I don’t know what I was expecting. The whole point was I told him because it hurt a little to see you two together,” You paused, eyes widening as you looked up at her, “Not that I’m mad at you or anything. You’re really great and I’m glad Peter’s found someone that makes him so happy,” You shrugged, trying not to cover your face in your hands, “I just figure that if I stick around I’ll make things miserable for everyone. And now I’ve made things awkward with Peter, and I can understand if you hate me,” you looked back at her, preparing yourself for whatever horrible blow you’d receive.

“Oh,” she said quietly, nodding as she looked down at her shoes, “well that’s…unexpected.”

“I swear I wasn’t trying to like, get him to break up with you. I think I just need some time away from everyone to sort out how I feel. Who knows, maybe I’ll be over him by next week and we can pretend this whole thing never happened-”

“But you won’t,” She interrupted, “There’s no way you will be. And that’s ok,” she placed her hand on your shoulder again and nudged you forward, “I’m not going to apologize for dating Peter,” she paused, “But this sounds like something painful to go through. I’ve seen you and Pete. Feelings aside, you two are the closest I’ve ever seen friends. He used to talk about you all the time. He’s barely said anything to me at all today,” you reached the doorway of the classroom, but she stopped you before you could go in, “I’m not telling you what to do, and if you want to tell me to fuck of I won’t take it personally. But I think the sooner you and Pete can go back to being friends, the happier everyone will all be.”

You looked at her hand as she let it fall to her side, all the scribbled ‘I love you’s and ‘PP+GS’ spilling out from her palm onto the sides of her hand and wrist.

“I don’t think that’ll be any time in the near future,” you admitted softly before making your way to your desk. You weren’t sure, but you thought you might have heard her mumble;

“Maybe it’s for the best, then.”

Lunchtime rolled around, and you decided to skip the cafeteria entirely. Making sure the hallway was empty, you ducked into the janitor’s closet that had a stairway leading to the roof. You‘d gone up here for lunch a few times in your freshman year with Pete, and you both had a lot of fun before winter came and coated the roof with a thick layer of ice.

But this time the roof was completely clear, and you managed to find a spot where no teachers could see you from the windows. It was near the back of the building, by the massive trashcans and a pot-hole-filled drive you knew kids used to hook up in their parent’s cars or smoke weed by the chainlink fence. But nothing nefarious happened out here during a school day. At least nothing besides you eating lunch where you weren’t supposed to be.

You rooted through your backpack to find the food you had thrown in there before leaving this morning; a flattened granola bar, a sandwich that had been squished into an unnatural shape, and an apple that was only lightly bruised from your books. Peter usually took half your sandwich. And half your granola bar. All of a sudden you felt you had too much food. You weren’t that hungry anyway.

Against your best judgment, you scooted over to the edge of the building and let your feet dangle off the side, letting the cold shock your exposed ankles as you swung your feet back and forth.

*thunk*

Something heavy landed behind you, making you jump in your seat and nearly fall off the edge of the building. But before you could scream for help, you felt something latch on to the collar of your shirt and yank you backward, your back landing flat on the roof.

“Holy shit are you ok?” A voice asked, frantic.

“Yeah, I…I’m fine. Yeah, no worries.” you cleared your throat, rubbing your eyes before looking up from your spot.

Oh my god, “Oh my god! You’re-”

“Spiderman? The one and only!” He smiled. Or rather, you think he smiled. He sounded like he was smiling, “And you’re sitting by yourself on top of a building, that doesn’t seem right,” he added, walking over to sit at the edge with you, dangling his legs over the side casually, “What brings you to my neck of the woods?”

“Oh! Um…I…well I guess I sort of…” you stuttered, “I’m kind of avoiding people right now,” you looked down at the uneaten sandwich, picking it up and holding it out to him, “Hey do you want-”

“God, please. I’m starving,” he held his hand out as you tossed it to him, holding back a laugh, “you’d be surprised how much it takes to swing around the city all day,” he rolled up the bottom of his mask and took a bit of the sandwich, “Like, sometimes I feel like all I do is swing and eat, it’s insane.”

You nodded, taking a bite of your apple as you tried not to stare at the bit of exposed face he was showing, “Yeah I bet. Keeping yourself suspended that high up in the air? Your arms have gotta be insanely strong too,” you laugh, doing you best not to choke as you watched him flex in an overly-dramatic fashion.

“I appreciate the observation miss-” he interrupted himself, clearing his throat with a cough, “I’m sorry, what’s your name?”

“(y/n),” you smiled, “(Y/n) (y/l/n)-”

“Miss (y/l/n)! I do indeed try to stay in good shape to fight off criminals. It’s the least I can do to make sure the generous sandwich chefs such as yourself can sleep peacefully at night.”

“How kind of you, dashing young hero,” you chuckled turning the apple core over in your hand. You watched as he smiled widely, showing all his teeth, and -for a second- you could have sworn you might have caught him blushing, “So what’s New York’s One and Only Wall Crawler doing at Midtown High? They’d think you’d be working your 9-5 or stopping a lunch-time robbery,” You eyed him as he chomped down on his sandwich, looking out at the city skyline. Spiderman! You were having lunch with THE Spiderman! He was eating your sandwich! Making jokes! You were making him smile! Pete wasn’t gonna believe this-

Of course Pete wasn’t gonna believe this. You couldn’t tell him.

“Sometimes when I need to clear my mind I take a swing around the city. Check the alleyways for muggers or abandoned puppies and kittens. Swinging this direction I saw a student sitting on the roof and figured I should check in. I definitely wasn’t expecting a sandwich though. This is phenomenal! Is this like, organic peanut butter? What, did your grandmother hand make this jam? Chef’s kiss- hey, is everything alright?” Spiderman asked, leaning over and nudging your shoulder gently. You could feel your smile had disappeared, and you sighed, lying back on the roof with your feet still off the edge.

Against your best judgement, you took a deep breath an opened your mouth, “Is it alright if I tell you something? You have to promise not to tell anyone though,” you looked over at him, and noticed how he had shifted closer, laying back as well so your faces were only about a foot away.

“Hey, I keep my own secrets all the time, what’s someone else’s amiright?” He chuckled, but became quiet when he saw the more serious expression on your face, “Of course, (y/n).”

“So there’s this guy, right? And,” you paused, “So I have this friend,” you started again, but stopped, turning over all the possible words in your head.

“I’m in love with my best friend,” It was blunt, but it was the truth.

“You should tell him,” His voice was serious, and when you looked over at him, you could tell he meant it.

“I did. The one problem is he has a girlfriend. And they’re great. And he is quite literally in love with her,” You propped yourself up on your elbows and looked over at the garbage cans.

“Does the girlfriend know?” He asked, sitting up more with you.

“Yeah. I told her. She told me to get over it so we can be just friends again. She sai it was for the best.”

“Oh yikes,” he groaned, running a hand over his face.

“Yeah. And she’s not a bad person, but like…What if I want to just sit in my feelings? What if I don’t want to be friends again,” You looked over at Spiderman, feeling an ache in your chest, “What if I don’t want to be over him?”

He reached out, squeezing your hand in his, and for the first time in a few days, you felt a little less alone, “Maybe there are some heartbreaks that can't just be ‘gotten over,’” he offered.

“Exactly,” you nodded, “I’ve been in love with him for years. Every time he smiles I want to freeze time,” you closed your eyes, squeezing his hand back, “I’d do anything for him, but I don’t know if I can pretend I’d ever be ok with just being his friend.”

“Do you know if he loves you back?” he asked. And for a second, everything froze. Of course he didn’t love you back. He loved Gwen. He said so himself. Or at least, he said he thought he loved Gwen. But you weren’t trying to come between them, and the last thing you wanted was to build up hoped for an even greater heartbreak.

“No. But he doesn’t,” You dismissed him, squinting back up at the sky.

The bell rang, and you almost fell off the roof again, but Spiderman pulled you closer.

“I need to go. Here,” you handed him the granola bar, “Have this.”

“(y/n) I love…these. Thank you,” he nodded, “Are you gonna be ok?” he asked, wiping a tear from your nose you hadn’t noticed.

“Yeah,” you nodded, “I’ll be fine. Thanks, Spiderman-”

“Please, call me Spidey,” he interrupted, helping you to your feet, “and don’t mention it, that’s what your friendly neighborhood hero is for, helpin’ the neighbors!”

You laughed, pulling him into a hug, “Talk to you later?”

“I’ll see you around, (y/n),” he agreed, stepping back and giving a salute before jumping off the roof.

You watched as he pulled himself up by a web before he had a chance to hit the ground, letting out a whoop as he swung off down the street.

Maybe you could wait to talk to Peter again. There wasn’t any need to rush.

As you snuck out of the janitor’s closet and made your way to your next class, you felt your phone buzz in your pocket. All of a sudden the apple you ate felt much, much heavier.

It was Peter.

Sk8r Boy Pete:

hey

TAGS!: @di4na @loversclwb @vengefulsokovian

(a/n) Thank you for reading! If you want to be added to the taglist lmk. Also go drink some water and take some deep breaths, I'm proud of you! <3

[rukunas]

—welcome back, master

pairing: keigo takami (hawks) x maid!reader

warnings: smut, use of term “master”, reader has slight negative body image, body impact (spanking), edging (male receiving), oral (male receiving), use of terms “whore” and “slut”, facial, mentions of hawks being animalistic, predator-and-prey undertones

author’s note: this is a part of @pupimouto’s collab, dress up. please send all the writers some love for their works !!

You blink at your reflection, eyes squinting as you pick apart everything wrong with your uniform— a lot, actually. The skirt is short, showing a lot more leg than you’d really like. The stockings are too tight, pushing up the fat of your thighs so that they sit plump above the socks. The headband doesn’t sit right on your head, slumping down so it tilts back unnaturally.

Maybe this is a bad idea.

It all started as a joke, you laying on Keigo’s stomach as the two of you spilled expired secrets— “I cheated on my fifth grade math test.” “I skipped a meeting with the Commission and took a nap on the roof.” “I was obsessed with maid cafes in high school and ditched 7th period every day to go to one.”

That last one had you lifting your head up to meet his eyes. “What?”

Keigo gave you a crooked grin, feathers fluttering slightly in embarrassment. “What? I liked maids, alright. Everyone had stupid phases in high school.”

“Yeah, okay, my phase was getting a stick-and-poke on the bottom of my foot. Yours is going to a maid cafe.” You giggled, nudging his arm with yours. “What, do maids turn you on?”

“It’s not like that anymore!” He’d blushed, shifting so that he can stand up, obviously over the conversation.

It was far from over though, how could it be when you just got your hands on the juiciest piece of information you’d ever gotten on the Number #2 Hero? Keigo is such a secretive man, always on the go and never being able to share the itty-gritty details of his childhood. But this, this was too good. You couldn’t let it go.

And you didn’t, teasing him whenever you could. “Welcome back, Master!” You’d beam at the door when he’d come back for work. Keigo would stare at you before flicking your forehead. On the occasional times when you’d make dinner, you’d doodle little drawings of ketchup and sauces on the side of the plate, just like real maids do at cafes. “Enjoy your meal, Master!” Your “Master” would give you a saccharine-sweet smile before pinching your ass with a feather.

“Let it go already.”

You decided to spare some mercy— in fact, you hadn’t once teased him again about his maid obsession in three weeks. That is until the bell to your apartment rang, a thick brown box sitting right outside your door, your name pressed up on the sticker in bold.

Whoops.

You’d forgotten about the package you ordered a month back, just something you saw on a small Etsy page— “A maid uniform, perfect for roleplay!” Without checking over the measurements, you ordered the only size available, grinning at your evil scheme. There may have been a villainous cackle involved as well as you added it to your cart.

But now, frowning at the full-length mirror in your room, you think this is too much. The costume is a size too small, it doesn’t seem to fit right, and you don’t look or feel sexy. Bleh.

You turn one more time to see how the outfit looks from the back when you hear the door open from the balcony, followed by a whistling tune.

“Shit, shit, shit.”

He wasn’t supposed to be here this early, why is he here this early? Your fingers fumble with the straps on the stockings that connect with the panties underneath the skirt, desperately trying to pull off your stupid costume.

“Dove, I’m home. Where ya at?”

His footsteps patter down the hall, him getting closer to the bedroom.

“Don’t come in! Keigo, don’t come in, I’m—”

The stupid sock just won’t come off as you tug on it, the fabric sticking to your skin. You lift your leg midair and try to yank it off, only to stumble on the carpet.

“Ah—!”

Your fall is saved by a single red feather holding your body upwards by pinching your blouse. As you find your balance again, the feather recoils and flutters in the air, your eyes following its path back to its spot in the wings of your boyfriend.

Speaking of whom, Keigo looks absolutely stunned.

He’s never been one to be lost for words, but here is, eyes wide and lips parted as he stares and stares and stares. The silence is deafening and it makes you squirm in place and laugh awkwardly.

“Surprise.” You whisper under your breath, but Keigo doesn’t move. Fuck. You must have gone too far with this prank.

You gulp. “Kei, it was a joke, ‘m taking it off now—”

“No, no, no.” In a snap, his usual charisma jumps back into action, the corners of his mouth pulling up into a sinister grin as he leans against the door frame, hands deep in his pockets. His eyes flicker wildly. “You wanted to be a maid, why don’t you go ahead and be my maid?”

“Huh?”

“You heard me.”

You furrow your brows but play along. “Um... welcome back, Master.”

Keigo rolls his eyes at the pitiful performance. “You can do better than that, c’mon now. You’ve teased me for months, sweetheart, go ahead and give me a show.”

Keigo’s always been a tease, it’s what drew you to him in the first place. He flirted his way to your heart after all, persistent in finding ways to make you simultaneously blush and swoon.

He’s a tease, sure, but so are you.

Pulling yourself together, you offer him a glowing smile. “Welcome back, Master.”

Keigo seems a lot more accepting this time, pulling himself off the door to walk towards you. “Thanks, dove.”

That gleam in his eyes is still there, effective in blooming butterflies in your stomach. Keigo spreads his wings as he gets close, the effect making his teeth look sharper, his eyes look darker. His fingers seem to grow talons as his nails gently rake across your cheek, his other hand coming up to fix the headband that lays on your hair.

“All this for me, huh? Cute.” Feathers swoop from his wings to poke at the fat of your thighs, and you giggle, keeping the tone light when you know Keigo wants to make it much, much darker.

“Wanna please your Master?” He asks, smile never fading. You nod your head, swallowing, but keeping a matching grin.

He dips down so that his lips brushes your ear. “Then show me.”

With that, he pulls himself back, seating himself on the bed with his legs spread, wings following pursuit.

You walk over before kneeling, keeping that retail smile. Pretty fingers curl over the waistband of Keigo’s pants before he tsks.

“Maids should ask for permission, shouldn’t they?”

He’s just being cheeky now, but you follow along, batting your lashes to seal the deal. “Master, may I?”

His forearms prop back to shift his hips forward, a feather moving to lift the hem of his shirt and pin it against his chest, giving you a perfect view of his abs. “Of course, sweet thing.”

Not a moment of hesitation goes by as you tug down his trousers and boxers in one swift motion, his pretty cock bobbing up and slapping his lower stomach. Keigo is fairly sized when it comes to his length, but more importantly, he’s thick, prominent veins running along the bottom to emphasize how hard he is. The swollen tip weeps white pearls which you catch with your thumb, pumping the moisture down to his base.

“Wow, Master.” You flutter your lashes as Keigo groans. “I thought you said you were over your maid obsession.”

Before he can say another word, your lips press against him, kissing the underside of his cock before moving up to suckle his tip.

“F— fuck. That’s it, baby.”

His breath wavers above you as you take more of him, making sure to breathe through your nose before swallowing him whole. It’s uncomfortable sometimes, to be honest, with the way your jaw aches from the girth of him and how the hairs of his happy trail tickle your nose. But hearing his moans switches something inside you, you feeling yourself getting wet with every single involuntary twitch of Keigo’s hips.

When you feel him getting close, the hands on your head tightening into fists, you pull back.

His chest heaves, sweat beading his temples while his jaw remains clenched. Furry eyebrows are pulled together tight enough to leave a pinch in his forehead.

He’s pissed. Good. He fucks better when he’s mad.

You beam up at him as if you haven’t just edged him. “Master, you only requested me until 7. From the looks of it, it’s”— you tug his left forearm, where he keeps his watch, the minute hand is pointed just a few ticks after the 12— “7:03. I should be going now. I have other clients to serve, y’know.”

You’re up and off the ground, turning towards the door on your heel before a large palm wraps around your wrist and tugs you back, hard enough to have to stumble back onto the bed with a gasp.

“I don’t think so, sweetheart.” Keigo hisses, his cock pressing up against your thighs as he crawls over you.

“I think...” he fingers the buttons of the shirt, “you’ll stay here until I’m fully satisfied with you.” Those talons from earlier are quick to rip your blouse right in half, your tits fully exposed to his greedy eyes.

“Keigo!” You break out of character in shock, his sharp teeth nipping away at your plush breasts. He smacks the side of your ass in punishment before going back to leave hickeys on your cleavage, lavender blossoms planted on your soft skin.

Once he’s satisfied with his work, his eyes meet yours. “Turn around.”

It’s embarrassing how quickly you shuffle onto your back, raising your ass while pressing your cheek to the bed. Keigo laughs, hands harshly grabbing onto the sides of your hips and kneading away.

“Needy little slut. All you want to do is satisfy your Master, right?”

You nod into the pillow. “Y— yes, Master. Just want you to fuck me.”

He takes his time peeling up your skirt and ripping off your panties— as if he’s unwrapping a present, one fit for a hero— but he gives you no time to adjust as he thrusts himself in. Immediately, you cry out.

“M—Master!”

He’s already starting a wild pace, hypnotized by the way he splits your folds, the way your tight pussy spits him out and sucks him right in, right where he belongs.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, who knew my little maid was a whore.” He taunts as you whine into a pillow, fingers fisting away at the sheets to try and find some sort of stability as Keigo thrusts hard, the tip of his cock kissing your cervix every time he pushes in.

“Kei-“

With this being the second time you fucked up, Keigo’s less merciful. He pulls out so just the tip of his cock remains inside you, knowing how needy you’ll get without all of him.

“Master! Master, m’sorry, please fuck me.” You whimper, wiggling your hips as you try to fuck yourself back on his cock.

The corner of Keigo’s mouth quirks up into a smirk. “Fuck yourself on my cock.” He slaps your ass, the rings on his fingers making the hit harsher and leaving behind pretty red marks. “C’mon dove, work for it. You’re not my maid for nothing.”

It’s pathetic, the way you roll your hips to impale yourself on his length. Drool drips onto your chin and cheek, Keigo making it worse when he pulls you up by your neck and sticks two fingers into your mouth.

“Such a drooling mess all for me. What’s got you all worked up, dove?”

“Ngh! Y—you, Master, you’re so big.” Your words are muffled, but he hears them clearly, confidence boosting as he flips you over and uses you like you’re his fuckdoll, something he can use to get off. He’s got one hand on your neck, squeezing so that your moans sound even more incomprehensible.

When Keigo fucks you like this, you feel like a slut and sound like a whore.

The thought makes that build-up inside you come undone, you cumming all over him with a scream, hands quick to latch onto his biceps for stability.

“Did my pretty little maid cum?” Keigo coos, watching as the eyes you had screwed shut quickly reopen, wide and teary and perfectly wrecked, mascara smeared and leaving black trails on your skin. His eyes are glowing, gold flecks emphasizing his animalistic glare as he stares at your bouncing tits, your pretty skirt disheveled and pushed up around your waist.

Keigo was wrong, his maid obsession never went away. Fuck, he was hard the second he saw you, and even with his cock pressed deep inside your clenching walls, he still feels like he’s never been taunted more than this. All he wants to do is paint you white, show you that this is what you get for being a tease.

You’re quick to reverberate his thoughts, squirming from the overstimulation— “Want you to cum, Master! Pleasepleaseplease.”

Keigo picks up the pace. “Want my cum? Beg for it.”

And you do, crying so prettily for him, an angel singing up in the heavens. He pulls himself out, groaning as he spills himself right on your chest, a few streaks of white splattering your face, landing on your lips and cheeks.

His chest heaves as he takes a thick finger, swiping his cum off of your chest before sticking it in your mouth. You suck obediently, lips quirking up in a toldyouso as you do.

“Satisfied, Master?”

“Shut the fuck up.”

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[ezralolol]

A cute little toy pt.1

Summary: Childe x Reader | Modern AU

HII This is my first ever fanfic on here! I hope you will enjoy it!! (Sorry if there are any grammar mistakes).

Summary:fluff to angst

When you started highschool, you quickly earned the title of the "weird kid". And immediately became a target for bullying. You weren't weird right? You kept to yourself and often ate lunch alone. You liked it that way. You didn't like the presence of another person with you. Simply said, you were an introvert. There wasn't anything wrong with you, that was just the way you were.

So when you started getting unwanted attention from the new kid, Childe. You were naturally frustrated. He was always somehow by your side ever since he started. You didn't like his presence at all, but it was somehow comforting knowing somebody didn't view you as strange.

He always asked for your help in math, even though he knew how to solve the equations. He was the best in math in your class. It felt like he just wanted to infuriate you even further.

He always doodled on the side of your notebook, borrowed your pens even though he had plenty of his own, he always ate lunch with you. You found him extremly annoying but someway you enjoyed his presence.

It was so obvious to everyone around you that he liked you, but you remained oblivious. He would always walk with you to school and back. At first you found it frustrating, but after a while you started enjoying his presence.

You started talking more and crawled out of your comfort zone. You started enjoying the time you spent with him and started spending time with him more and more. Before you knew it you gained feelings for that stupid ginger man.

At first, you didn't want to admit to yourself that you had feelings for that annoying boy. "How could I love someone so irritating?" you thought to yourself. After a while of denying your feelings for him, you accepted them and wanted to confess to him. You couldn't keep the feelings you had for him secret any longer.

You left a note on his desk saying you would like to meet him in the school garden after your last class finished. You waited in the garden for what felt like hours. Practicing your confession, only for him not to show up..

You felt so betrayed and hurt. "How foolish can I be to ever trust someone?" you thought to yourself as you felt tears forming in your eyes. As you were leaving you heard a group of kids laughing. You turned around to face them. They were laughing at you? And childe was..with them? You couldn't process what you just saw.

You started running from the school as you cried. You blocked childe on everything, you started avoiding him at school even if he tried so desperately to explain what happend. There was nothing to explain you already knew what you were to him, a toy he could play with for a while and just throw into the trash can.

You despised childe with every bone in your body after than incident.

-first fanfic!

(Part 2 coming soon :) )

[zerolostwalks]

hello friend :) can i request 7 from the friends to lovers prompts with reggie and alex? have a nice day! :)

It had started out simple enough. Reggie had ended up in Alex’s math class. Something that was equally entertaining as it was frustrating. Alex had thought the same of every math class he had the pleasure-displeasure?-of sharing with his friend since they were Eleven. Alex currently faced one of the prime examples of this contradiction.

Reggie, who would normally manage to snag a seat next to Alex, was sat in the seat in front of him today. Alex didn’t know what exactly had happened but Reggie had run in just as the final bell rang. Alex glared down at Reggie who was turned in his seat so that he could doodle in the margins of Alex’s notebook.

Alex glanced towards the front of the room, Mr. Esaiman was still lecturing the board. He leaned forward and as quietly as could “Dude, what are you doing?”

“Doodling,” Reggie mumbled, not even moving his eyes. Alex tried to keep his eye roll subdued.

“That’s not,” He took a deep breath, unsure if this was one of Reggie’s ploys to get a reaction or one of his legitimate airheaded moments. It had just become safer to react to them all the same way. He became too flustered when faced with Reggie’s mischievous smirk. “Ok. Why aren’t you doodling in your notebook?”

Truthfully Alex wasn’t surprised Reggie was doodling. It was one of the entertaining factors of math class. Reggie spent an inordinate amount of time doodling in this class. To the point where it frustrated teachers and fellow students-Alex included-that he somehow still managed to comprehend most of the subject matter.

“I forgot my bag at home today.” Reggie glanced up at Alex, a slight quirk of an eyebrow and tilt of the head. Alex grimaced at the silent question. More like the silent dare, Alex suspected. ‘Let me use your notebook to doodle, or risk seeing what I might get up to instead.’

Alex exhaled, he hated how it had gotten harder and harder to say no to Reggie over the years. Not impossible certainly, and it was easier to hide behind a veil of sarcasm. However, school was already taxing enough, “Fine.”

Reggie preened before he diverted all his attention back to Alex’s notebook. Alex smirked with a shake of his head and resumed taking his notes; Reggie would occasionally add the slightest correction. This wasn’t so bad, and it would just be this one class period.

It was not just that class period. More and more frequently Reggie would lean over and start adding small drawings to the margins of Alex’s notes. The dark haired young man somehow had started getting his hands on notebooks for Alex’s other classes. A fact Alex learned when he opened his history notebook only to discover Reggie had drawn comedic recreations of every major event for the last two weeks worth of notes. When had he even done that? 

Alex decided he needed to retaliate. Even if he found his own drawing skills lacking. He should have known this would just add fuel to the fire. Reggie had just added to Alex’s drawings, and began leaving some half done drawings of his own for Alex to finish. Like some bizarre game of telephone drawing.

Things got weird when Alex started to find hearts amongst the doodles in Reggie’s notebooks. Did Reggie develop a crush on somebody? Hard to tell with Reggie he constantly flirted. Like he didn’t know there was any other way to speak to people half the time. Alex felt his heart twist funny, which was just odd. If Reggie found someone he liked that would be a good thing. Granted the person actually appreciated Reggie for who he was, quirks and all and wasn’t some asshole. 

When Alex found a heart amongst the scattered drawings in his own notebook one day, his heart fluttered. Which he scowled at in turn, he was being stupid. Soon more and more hearts appeared in his notebook. This was getting ridiculous, Reggie should keep his feelings and his crush in his own notebooks. 

At the start of school the next day before the start of class Alex told Reggie as much. The boy just furrowed his brows. Alex would have called it his usual confused pout but there was something about those sea green eyes. The confusion was there, sure, but it was tinged by hurt and anger? When the two parted for their separate classes Reggie snagged one of Alex’s notebooks. He must have imagined the tumultuous nature of the look he saw earlier.

Or not? Reggie sat in math class, chin in one hand staring straight at the board. Alex’s notebook was already on the desk beside him. Alex side eyed his friend, he had to be up to something. Reggie studiously avoided looking at Alex, his free fingers drummed on his desk. What was he up to? Alex studied the desk where his notebook sat. It seemed intact, and nothing seemed to have been placed in the seat for him to sit in. 

Alex glanced at Reggie, no dice, his posture hadn’t changed. The other desks were quickly filling up. Alex shook the desk and he could have sworn he heard Reggie snort. When the final bell rang he finally sat, nothing happened. 

Relief flooded through Alex as he sank into the seat. Short lived relief, what the fuck was up with Reggie? Alex shook it from his mind, he’ll ask after class. He flipped his notebook open and discovered a two page spread of doodles. Those were definitely little cartoon versions of Reggie and himself in various poses and situations together. 

All the doodles surrounded four large print words. ‘I like you’ in larger lettering across the top, an extra ‘idiot’ sprawled across the bottom. Almost like an afterthought by the way it overlapped a few of the doodles. Alex wasn’t sure how long he sat frozen staring at the page before him. His heart hammered in his chest. Oh. 

No wonder Reggie looked at him like he had that morning. Shit, Reggie, was he still angry? He had definitely seemed pissed at the start of class. Alex dared a glance in Reggie’s direction. Reggie stared right back. Alex simultaneously wanted to slap and kiss the smirk off his face. Almost like he’d just read Alex’s mind Reggie winked with a wider grin before he returned his attention back to his own notebook. 

Alex’s face was on fire. How was he going to focus on class now?

[absolutepokemontrash]

The Demon Bros Play DND!

Who’s ready for some Stupid Headcanons?

So, the Satanic Panic of the 1980s claimed that the tabletop RPG known as Dungeons and Dragons had the power to turn your children into satanists and devil worshippers. So of course, the brothers have totally played DND after hearing about all the human world nonsense.

Lucifer the Back-up Back-up DM

He’s too busy to play this game dammit, stop inviting him! What do you mean both Satan and Simeon can’t DM the one-shot? Ugh... fine.

Despite all his UUUUUUUUGGGGHHH, Lucifer is a damn good storyteller, prepare to be immersed as hell.

Also, sorry guys, he’s a rule whore. If something’s against the rules, YOU AREN’T DOING IT.

He’s also a complete sadist who will randomly get everyone to roll perception checks for NO REASON.

Lucifer has definitely stood up and slammed his hands on the table while giving a description for extra effect, Mammon screamed and nearly fell out of his seat which REALLY ruined the mood.

“Everyone, we’re rescheduling, I’m too busy.”

He’s been a player a few times, and he’s NOT good at it. All his characters end up being really generic and boring. He’s better at being the world and everything in it, not the dummy wandering around it.

Human/fighter lookin’ motherfucker

In conclusion, he’s a good DM, but he’s probably too busy to play.

Over-Powered Self Insert (Mammon)

This game is for nerds! He’s not playin’, Levi!

Fine, his character is great and amazin’ and is also him. MC! What do these numbers mean-

Mammon’s the type of player to make his character a self insert and not take it too seriously, then get really REALLY attached as the campaign progresses.

He’s the type not to make a backstory for his character either, so go wild DM MCs!

He also both purposefully and accidentally metagames a whole bunch. Like dude, YOU know this, YOUR CHARACTER DOES NOT.

Shit he forgot his dice, can he borrow some?

“Okay MC, that’s five points of piercing damage.” “I RUN OVER AND HEAL THEM! I’LL SAVE YA MC!”

Mammon goes out of his way to save MC’s character long before it would make sense in-character to do so.

“Well, as your first man it’s my duty to save your character! You’ll probably be a blubberin’ mess if I didn’t...”

He’s not the best role player, but he’s also not the worst at it either. He tends to break character when things get too serious and he doesn’t know what to do.

Notes who? He came in here with one sheet of printer paper and it’s for doodling only.

He and Asmodeus start the tavern brawls. No question about that.

Theft is very common, he’s stealing from everyone, including but not limited to: the party, the royal guards, the dead enemies, the giant fuck-you dragon that Satan dropped in there to deter Mammon from stealing...

“I’m gonna steal that crown from the dragon.” “Roll stealth.” “Nat 20 BITCHES.” “Fuck you.”

If his character dies, may the Demon King have mercy on his greedy little soul because he’s going to mope about it for a damn long time.

Over-Powered Self Insert Again (Leviathan)

His character totally isn’t a self insert, shut up! He just looks and acts like an idealized version of himself!

He’s the one with twenty pages of character info and backstory AND the amazing commissioned art.

Levi has about 40 sets of expensive blue dice that he claims gives him the best rolls but an average session with him usually leads to roughly 10 crit fails.

While his luck with dice isn’t that good, he’s the player who will get as much out of their turn as possible, AKA break out the calculators and notes we’re doing some math.

His turn goes on for at least ten minutes because of all the shit he’s doing. When you finally think it’s over he goes “I still have my movement!”

Takes notes like a madman, every bit of lore and character info is being written down, meaning it’s a headache for everyone involved if there’s a continuity error because Levi WILL point it out.

“So you all head to the east, the great Valley of-” “Hang on, valley? In the second session you said there was a mountainous area to the east.” “Levi, shut up.”

Levi is the self appointed “guys come on let’s get back on track!” player, and whoever’s DMing is grateful to have him.

Levi is kind of the opposite of Mammon in terms of character seriousness, at first he’s taking everything super seriously and then as the campaign goes on he slowly loosens up and has some fun.

Out of curiosity one day he searches up a magical girl DND class and he’s ALL OVER IT. PLEASE LET HIM BE A MAGICAL GIRL NEXT CAMPAIGN-

Damn good at roleplaying, he’s carrying the entire in-character discussion until everyone else gets into it.

The Done With Your Bullshit DM (Satan)

So, this is the game that’s supposedly summoning him all the time despite the fact that he hadn’t been up to the human world since the 50s... what the fuck is everyone on up there?

It was the 80s, probably a lot of drugs.

When Satan DMs, you can only break the rules if it enhances the story... or if it fucks with Lucifer’s really boring character.

He will fudge dice rolls every once and a while, he also gets very attached to the characters everyone has made so he doesn’t want to perma-kill any of them unless they roll a DND quadruple natural 1 sin or something.

As attached as he gets, he isn’t above completely raging, killing everyone’s characters, and ending the session if everyone’s being annoying.

Don’t worry, your characters will be safe and sound next session once everything calms down... just don’t mention how Satan burned your character sheet right in front of you. It’s your fault if you didn’t make a second copy of your character sheet!

He’s pretty decent when it comes to improv when a player stumbles into something he didn’t plan out, but that’s not going to stop him from getting a little annoyed.

Though, if you somehow manage to get to the big bad too soon... yeah sorry, he’s got a way more dramatic fight scene planned, your player’s getting conveniently blasted out of there.

As a player, Satan is pretty decent at the game overall, but he tends to be a little aggressive if there’s an overarching mystery to be solved.

He needs to understand what’s going on! He doesn’t care if it upends the plot or it’s too early to find out! He needs to know!

His character is actually distinct and different from himself, Satan thinks it’s more interesting that way. All the books he’s read have made him a pretty awesome role player!

Satan’s notebook both as a DM and a player is filled to the brim, no detail is too insignificant to be put on the page.

Satan doesn’t fear dungeon puzzles... dungeon puzzles fear Satan.

“Are you all stupid?! This puzzle is so easy a four year old could solve it!”

I ROLL TO SEDUCE- (Asmodeus)

At first he didn’t want to play, he doesn’t play these kinds of games, sweetie. He’s too pretty.

When he’s finally convinced he puts a decent amount of effort into his character, but leaves the backstory pretty open.

Asmo would probably be the bard... right? No. He’s the warlock with the magic sugar daddy patron, and the warlock patron is spoken to as such.

“Hey baby... how’ve you been? Have I been good~?” “...”

Huh! Who woulda thought that all the bedroom roleplaying would transfer so well to DND!

Simeon is the only DM that doesn’t immediately shut this down, so Asmo will be extra inclined to play if Mr. Nice Shoulders is DMing.

When he gets really into it he buys a bunch of sparkly and very pretty dice, they bring him good luck in every roll!

Asmo has a fictional harem, no question about it. It gets to the point where Satan, Lucifer, and Simeon stop describing NPCs as attractive.

He’s rolling to seduce either way, he’s turned many an antagonist into a lover. To be fair, Asmo’s horniness has gotten everyone out of a lot of jail cells... so they can’t complain.

His notes consist of really random comments about the plot and the other players. It’s also COATED with doodles.

‘Wow, this character is such an asshole, I hope Belphie kills them.’ ‘Shit.’ ‘MC looks so cute when they play their character!!!!!!!! :D’

Poor bab forgets the rules a lot... it’s just too much to remember, okay?! How was he supposed to know that he ran out of spell slots an hour ago?!

Please help him, MC...

*Dice Cronch* (Beel)

Homeboy has been given edible dice, no question. He has also eaten the non-edible dice...

Beel goes to Satan for help with making his character, and he ends up really loving the character! :D

Problem is, he’s not that good at roleplaying... D:

“Can my character eat that person?” “Beel, no- you know what? Let me check what you’d need to roll to do that.”

I’ll save you MC part 2 electric boogaloo, but when it comes to Beel, the entire party is getting protected, no matter how little it makes sense in-character.

While Beel does take notes, a lot of them don’t end up being very important for later events. For example, he’ll jot down stuff about the layout in one room, but it turns out he didn’t take notes for the room that was actually going to be used for a boss fight.

He’s always nice to the NPCs, shame Belphie doesn’t show them the same courtesy.

Murder Hobo (Belphie)

Chaotic evil.

“Belphie, your character’s alignment is neutral good, remember?” “Fuck that, this guy’s annoying me.”

If Belphie doesn’t like an NPC, it’s up to the rest of the party to stop him from derailing the campaign and killing them.

He has space themed dice because cow-man likes space and thought they were pretty.

Notes? NOTES? You think Belphegor, the Avatar of SLOTH, takes notes? HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA-

He’s drooling all over the notebook... ew. Someone wake him up and tell him it’s his turn.

He puts about 35% effort forth to make a halfway decent character, and approximately 4% effort to actually roleplay.

Belphie sleeps through important plot details so he’s almost always really confused. He’ll turn to MC and ask them to explain what he missed before not learning his lesson and going back to sleep.

Wake him up for the dungeon puzzles though, he and Satan love those.

“Okay, we can’t see what’s in the room because none of the conscious party members have dark vision?” “Nope, what do you do?” “...I shove Mammon inside and shut the door.” “WHAT?!”

Bonus! The Best DM (Simeon)

Our favourite angel has homebrewed this entire campaign and boy fricken howdy are these players going to enjoy it.

Simeon fudges the dice rolls to avoid anything too irreversibly bad happening, buuuuuuut he’s still a total asshole who does the random perception rolls to keep everyone on their toes.

Everyone gets a character arc god dammit, even if they don’t have a backstory, one will be provided!

He’s got a map, he’s got miniatures, he’s got dice and backup dice for the backup dice, he’s got DM notes for days!

Simeon could be a voice actor with the amount of character voices he can do, no one ever gets confused with who’s talking.

Did someone just uncover a massive bit of plot that was meant to be found out later? Good job! No harm done! Simeon’s DM improv is second to none, and the plot will adjust accordingly!

[findingtheperfectcharacter]

The Dancer and The Punk

I’m not sure if it goes far enough to count but… Warning anyway for verbal abuse jic

Peter Rivers tapped his pen against the edge of his desk. It was Senior year but all he could think about was her light pink lip gloss against his lips.

Sarah Long walked to her car, she looked at the same spot she’d gazed at for the last 4 years. There were four boys in baggy jeans with far too many buckles on them, but only one has ever caught her eye.

Jessica Smith giggled as she texted Sarah back: J: Are you kidding?! The guy dresses like he can’t afford clothes. Rip bestie for being a new card carrying member of the shit taste club.

Tristin (Tee) Lukas laughed as his board landed back on the pavement, “You’re into that stuck up rich girl?” He shook his head, “She seems like a total bitch. If you can manage it good on you I guess.”

Alison Long tapped against her daughter’s door, “It’s 5:15, it’s time to practice for that ballet recital coming up.” Sarah sighed as she stood up and walked out the door. Alison squeezed her shoulders and gave a small squeal, “I’ve heard rumors that there are going to be scouts in the audience, you might get a scholarship, so you have to work extra hard okay?”

Patricia Rivers banged on Peter’s doors, “You better be studying in there! Look at this, D’s in Math, you’re failing Chemistry even though this is the second time you’re taking the stupid class. The only class you’re doing well in is music. Do you want to amount to anything in life?!” He pulled the blanket higher over his head and turned the volume on his song up higher.

Peter River’s ran up to Sarah, rose in hand, “Hi, uh,” he adjusted his bang, “You did great up there. I mean, you’re a really good dancer- and I think you’re really pretty.” He took her hand and pressed the rose inside.

Jessica Smith leaned over and whispered in Sarah’s ear, “Oh my God, I think he’s actually trying to ask you out. Are you gonna do it? Are you gonna fall in love with him and live happily ever after.”

Sarah bit her lip, he was saying everything she’d dreamed of for years, she thought of her doodles of them as Mr. and Mrs. Long. She thought of them holding hands in the park… She thought of her friends mocking her, she thought of her mother meeting him. The way she’d shake her head somberly. The way they’d sneer. She put the rose back in his hands and gently pushed. “Sorry, I have better things to do.”

Peter Rivers never hated her, she had every right to tell him no. Fuck as he grew older and started dating more she became nothing but a long forgotten memory. It’d been 5 years since then. He’d grown, he was sure she had as well. He put his head on his girlfriend’s shoulder “You know, I think you’re the first person who ever believed in me.”

She pressed her pierced lips against his, “It was easy really, you’re a real talented guy Peter.”

Peter closed his eyes, “I think… I think I want to write about that. About. Growing up. And not letting people’s doubt or hatred or anything drag you down.” He hummed a note.

He was a boy

She was a girl

Could I make it anymore obvious?

[classic80sand90smovieloves2]

A study date with Blane would include~

(Not my gif)(Requested by anonymous)

- Spending time with you; regardless of what the two of you are doing, is top priority for Blane so he never really minds doing things that some may consider boring; himself included. 

- Blane isn’t a huge fan of studying but he’s happy to help whenever you need him to. He might not be a genius but he gets decent grades and is terribly clever so he can teach you a thing or two every now and again. 

- And on that note: none of his friends ever really study or are willing to sit and help him so he finds it really nice that he can go to you whenever he’s having trouble. 

- He’s definitely more of a helping you memorize things sort of study buddy rather than a tutor. Like, he can try to teach you something but he’s much better at just reading from a paper and letting you know if you got something wrong; it’s less stressful for him too. 

- He’s probably tried explaining something or doing a math problem with you and just got it completely wrong. Then he just stood there looking embarrassed and furrowing his eyebrows at the equation, telling you that he “doesn't think he’s very good at this”, prompting you both to start laughing. 

- I’m pretty sure that Blane’s an only child, and he’s obviously got a big house, so if you want a quiet place to study; one where no ones gonna bother you, he’s got you covered. 

- And, as opposed to many houses in the 1980s, his house has it’s very own computer! So, rather than sitting in the school library and praying that nothing goes wrong, you can sit in the comfort of his home and type up that paper you have to finish; with a boyfriend on hand to help with any technological problems. 

- His notes are pretty average so yours are probably either significantly better or significantly worse than his. He’s also pretty used to Steff and some of his other friends bumming notes or papers off of him so he doesn’t mind you; his girlfriend, doing it. 

- Speaking of notes, Blanes pretty popular so he can almost always get a copy of whatever papers the two of you may need. 

- Most of your study sessions are going to be light; for lack of a better word. He doesn’t take things terribly seriously and neither do you so the two of you try to have a little fun while you’re together.

- He doesn’t like just sitting in silence for a whole afternoon so he’ll usually make a comment every now and again, maybe making a joke or starting a short conversation to try and break up the monotony of shuffling through papers. 

- When you’re distracted, he tends to sneak glances at you or doodle things on his paper; sometimes doodling you if he’s got a good view of you. You’ll catch him repeatedly looking at you and you’ll ask him “what are you doing”, watching as he smiles and shakes his head, insisting that its nothing while he continues to draw or write. 

- If he’s really not into something, he’ll try to get you out of working and say things like “hey, why don’t we take a break?”, oftentimes in the middle of you explaining or saying something. Because of this, he usually winds up apologizing while laughing a bit awkwardly, telling you that his head is spinning or something similar. 

- When it comes to actually studying or him teaching you something, your best bet is with math or, as I said before, something he can just help you remember. His best subject is math so; even though he’s not guaranteed to know everything, he at least has a pretty good grasp of it. 

- He says things like “Yeah, I know it’s stupid” whenever you don’t understand something, trying to make it seem like you’re not alone; even though he usually doesn’t or didn’t have a problem with it himself. 

- He also likes telling you that you’re gonna do fine whenever you groan and say you’re gonna fail, redirecting your concentration to whatever it is you’re doing and trying to find a better way to explain it. 

- As we all know, study dates don’t always turn out to be actual study dates so I should probably mention that Blane really doesn’t care either way. If you didn’t actually want to study, he doesn't mind, and if you actually did, he doesn’t mind either. 

- He’s sort of clueless when it comes to your ulterior motives. He’s never going to suspect that you were only using studying as an excuse to get him to come over or go to his house. He’ll always just legitimately think you needed help studying. 

- That being said, he gets all bashful and smiley whenever you come up and lean your chin on his shoulder or wrap your arms around him or kiss his neck or slide your hand onto his thigh or whatever other move you try to use on him.

- He’ll keep clearing his throat but he won’t be able to clear the smile from his face and it won’t be hard to tell that he’s quite pleased with this turn of events. 

[comehomeducklings]

Past [Part 2] (Obsession)

A/N: Some chapters will be named with either “Past,” “Present,” or “Future,” then their numbered part coming right after it. This is to confuse you less when flashbacks or anything happens. As you have probably noticed, it says “Past” for Part 2. This is going back near when Tom and her just met. Thank you for reading! <3

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6

Tom Riddle's Moodboard

Main Character's Moodboard

~////////////////𓆙////////////////~

1940 - 3rd year

“Potions is not that bad, I swear. You just have to be good at measuring.”

At the table, my friends and I are discussing our classes this year. Potions being one of my favorite topics. Devyn absolutely loathes that certain class. We have to drag her there to make sure she doesn’t skip. Poor girl tries her best to not mess up but the cauldron always ends up blowing up. I even watched her do every step once, never missing a beat. The potion still ended up failing, even though she did everything correctly. She gave up after a while, who wouldn’t. I help her do extra assignments for extra credit to keep her grade up. She also studies with me to make sure she can memorize everything and pass her tests. Amelia is pretty good at the class, she’s luckily paired with Devyn most of the time. Carrying the potion to success, with a little bit of my secret help. It’s not cheating, it’s using your resources.

I’m resources.

“Potions is not that bad,” Devyn mocks me. “If it weren’t for you two I would have gone insane in that stupid class.”

Amelia just laughs at her while eating her hash browns on the plate. She reaches her hand out to take some more eggs.

“You were able to do it before. Not the way you were supposed to, but it worked,” Amelia says.

“Exactly, just start doing it your way at this point. I don’t think Slughorn will care how it’s done, just how it comes out.”

Devyn nods her head and points at me with a fork. Her mouth full of food so she settles for that response. My plate doesn’t have much other than some bacon and fruit. I’m not usually a breakfast eater. I get my appetite at lunch and dinner time. It’s just too early for a bunch of food smells, the smells make me kind of nauseous. I’ll eat though, enough to hold me off till lunch.

The chatter in the lunchroom rises by the minute. Everyone refilling themselves before their busy day. All energy levels rising while everyone wakes up from their groggy morning mood. While my friends finish eating we continue to talk about our classes and share the schedules for this year. Most classes we had were the same except for our electives. I tried taking as many electives as possible. My family back home never really did magic. I actually came a year and a half late since my family wanted me to have a normal school experience. I learned to do everything without the use of magic, the only thing my mom taught me was the floo network, creatures, and plants. I would often accompany her to Diagon Alley when she shops. I got an Owl for my 10th birthday. A cat would have been amazing if I wasn’t allergic to it. My owl is a brown and white-furred barn owl. Don’t ask me why I named it Bartholomew. I was ten okay, give me a break. Speaking of the floo network, my mom had to chase me through it quite often because I kept teleporting everywhere. I once ran into the Ministry of Magic’s building and got lost. They had to take me home to my parents. Their faces told me everything I needed to know about the punishment waiting for me.

Halfway through the second year is when I came to Hogwarts, a second letter coming that year asking my parents to let me learn more there. So when they finally let me attend, everything was pretty new to me. My mother was the magic one in the family. Her grandmother, my great-grandmother, before her had the magic gene. Going to school was the same experience as going from a muggle-borns perspective. The difference is, I knew more about its existence. I would look at yearbooks my mom had from when she went here. She earned a lot of titles, all the achievements being recorded down. I always wondered why she never wanted me to come here. Did something happen to me, to her? I’m guessing she just wanted a normal life with dad. He has always supported her through everything. A love, a bond like that is hard to come by. He would also learn about magic right next to me. At least, the stuff my mom allowed to let us know.

That’s why I want to learn as much as I can, of what’s available. Why learn math in the muggle world when I could be learning divination. Spells of all types, potions for everything of inconvenience. My chores could be completed with just a flick of my wand. I’ve lately been learning wandless magic, on my own. Albus has helped by providing me with material to study that type of magic. The only thing I’ve managed so far is a spark coming from the tips of my fingertips. Sparking hope that I could actually, maybe, achieve that level. Now I won't get my hopes up, but that can lead me to a certain advantage in dueling. That being one of my weakest skills. Always panicking, saying any spells that pop up in my mind, and making random movements coming from my wand. Often confusing who I’m up against, although they recover from that confusion fairly quickly.

Riddle, met him once. One too many if you would ask me. I dissuade ever wanting to speak to him. Arrogance and pride flow through his tongue like second nature. I do take pride in succeeding above him in 3 classes. He is 2 classes above me but, that’s not the point. I do admit, he’s attractive. Only a little though, how else would he charm his way through the professors and students.

“Alright, I’m ready to go. You guys done?”

“Yeah,” I say. Devyn and I start leaving our seats and heading towards the huge doors.

Amelia hurried from her seat, a few steps behind since she took some fruit with her to eat on the way. More and more students also started making their way towards the first period. Not wanting to be blamed for the loss of house points. This system causes so many fights, everyone’s competitive side getting the best of their common sense. I would be lying if I said it didn’t get the best of me before. Amelia being her usual bubbly self skips backward while chatting with us. Before we could warn her to stop, she pushes someone ahead of her. Both falling down, hitting the floor. She spins her head extremely quickly, her hair sticking in her mouth from the force of the wind.

“I’m so sorry, I wasn’t paying attention,” she explains. Quickly trying to digest her situation. I make my way towards her and pull her up. I fix her robe and dust off any dirt on the cloth from the floor.

“Clearly idiot, can you not use those bug eyes of yours to see?”

Devyn and I make eye contact. We understand that there are witnesses here, and one of them is bound to snitch on us if we fight. A huge scene would probably make Amelia feel even more embarrassed as well. Instead, I guided Amelia by her back. We continue on to class while I comfort her. Devyn is staying back to “talk” to the guy. Lestrange is in for it now, any poor soul would be when in the fiery path of her anger.

Devyn’s loud yells could still be slightly heard when entering the potions classroom. First class of the year, and day. On Slughorn’s table, I can see a vial with the wideye potion contained inside. I set Devyn’s textbook on her station, turning to the page that contains information on the potion. Hoping to save her confusion and time.

“Welcome, welcome! Nice to see some old faces, and new ones,” he says with the biggest grin on his face. “Today we’ll be learning about the Wideye potion. Can anyone tell me what this potion does?”

I quickly raise my hand, rather eager. I did some reading about a lot of potions during the summer. Trying to get a headstart on my studies. This potion being one of them. Only 3 students raised their hand, one of them being me. The other, well, Riddle.

“Yes, go ahead and answer,” the professor looks my way.

I smile, “The wideye potion prevents the person consuming the liquid the ability to fall asleep. Which is often used in the medical field to wake someone from a sleep caused by a blunt force or drug.”

“Precisely! 10 points.”

I look back rather smugly at Riddle, rather happy I got chosen instead of him. I know, he could have easily answered that too. I’ll let myself bask in the small achievement for now. 30 minutes of class is just spent writing down notes, preparing us for the potion we will make. Note-taking is my favorite, especially the little doodles I get to make. We use a feather instead of the regular pen. I found it rather amusing and liked the certain feeling of writing with it. The dipping noise that the point of the feather makes when hitting the liquid ink is a very profound sound. No real writer’s bump forming on my fingers.

“That’s enough writing, I need you all to prepare your cauldron, gather the materials you need, and start your potion. If done correctly, tomorrow when we add the finishing touches and check on it the potion should be a blue/green color,” Slughorn comments. “You have 10 minutes to study your notes, then the rest of the class to make your potion. No looking back at your notes after those ten minutes.”

After scanning my notes, I stand up and walk towards the ingredients on the shelves. If I remember correctly my potion requires snake fangs, standard ingredient, and wolfsbane. I gather all that in my hand and set it down near my cauldron. Before I start, I take a moment. I’m missing something, I’m sure there was another ingredient.

Wolfsbane, check.

Snake fangs, six of them.

I have the measures of Standard ingredient.

There’s one more, I try to look around the room. Then I remember that we get an automatic failing grade if caught cheating. There’s no way I’ll let my grade drop like that. Over something so small and inconvenient too. Making my way to the shelves, I scan over the ingredients over and over again. Trying to see if any of the names pop out to me.

No.

Definitely not.

That’s an ingredient?

I don’t even want to know how that one was obtained.

This one, of course it’s this one. I even remember putting a star next to the name in my notebook. Dried Billwig stings, I believe six of them were needed. All that time wasted. Hurrying to my seat I get to work. The time goes by quickly, all that could be heard was the sizzling and whooshing of our potions. I almost knocked down my vials a couple of times. Someone actually did, their time spent on cleaning the glass off the floor. After heating the first three ingredients, I crush them together in the mortar. Then stir clockwise from what I recall, three times specifically. Finally, I wave my wand over then leave it to brew.

Just in time from the looks of it. I glance at Devyn to see how it went for her, and she looks pretty proud of herself. I take that as a blessing that it didn’t blow up this time of round. I’m guessing she took our advice and did it her own way.

A student raises his hand, “May we leave?”

“Oh yes yes, go ahead. No assignments for the first day, only the potion you made in class.”

Before I leave the classroom I examine Riddle’s station. He already left the room. His potion looks similar to how mine turned out, his workspace thoroughly cleaned. Everything used properly placed back to where it should be. Perfectly spotless, not a single speck of dust in sight. All done without magic too, surprising for someone born into the wizarding world. When I mentioned that I met him once, it wasn’t much of anything. The only way I know how he really acts is through other people. Much admire his intelligence and strong will. Others are jealous of the potential he holds for the future.

Girls are already trying to slip love potions into his drinks. I would feel bad if he wasn’t so rude to them. Only just before touching the disrespectful line. He almost drank one of their attempts before. Wouldn’t want to imagine how that turned out. Tom riddle, in love. That man probably doesn’t know the feeling of happiness, let alone love. I feel bad for his future girlfriend, she’s going to have to deal with a handful of baggage.

~////////////////𓆙////////////////~

“How much do you want to bet Nott will demolish him?” A Gryffindor girl to my left whispers.

Nott, part of Riddle’s group from what I’ve seen. They all eat lunch together and talk to one another so it’s a reasonable guess. Very talented duellist, one of the bests here.

“I hate to admit it, but he’ll definitely win this. I’ll still have hope for the other guy though,” I whisper back trying not to sound mean.

Nott and the other Slytherin boy are up right now. It’s a courtesy for the audience to stay quiet until someone casts the first attack or defense. From then on all you will hear is shouting of encouragement and the opposite. Nott’s eyes are focused, zoning in on the opponent before him. His wand is steady, mouth slightly parted to breathe through better. Whole-body alert and tense waiting for something. From what I'm getting, I believe he’s waiting for the Slytherin boy to go first. Nott casts spells quickly and thinks them through decently. Sometimes you're not able to create a counter-spell quick enough to defend yourself against him.

Riddle’s group and himself are near the corner of the platform. All seemingly analyzing every breath he inhales and exhales. I finally hear the whoosh of a wand and a whiz of light fly past the platform. The glow from the spell lighting our faces for a millisecond. Nott quickly counters that spell and moves to cast his own. Magic flies across the platform, all of our eyes going back and forth like a ping-pong match. The Slytherin boy starts breaking a sweat. He’s only been able to get a couple of offensive spells in there, most of his plays spent throwing off Nott’s. If he doesn’t turn the battle soon, the outcome will become very clear.

It is a little less exciting since we only know a handful of spells. So whatever you know from your own studies you use in these duels. When we move up the years the class will become more serious and dangerous. Right now it’s just to teach us how to counter and cast quickly. The proper etiquette and movement. You use spells that you know, they aren’t supposed to harm someone. Either stun them, make them fly back, or disarm. Most of those spells require a little of a higher level, most of us not even knowing of its existence yet. So what’s mostly cast between competitors is a basic spell to exert force. That force should be aimed for the legs, or the wand to disarm that way. The way someone can win here is to make their knees or hands touch the floor, or disarm their wand. As I mentioned, it will get more intense as time goes by. We're only just starting 3rd year right now, a lot more charms will be learned later on.

I shake my head to get rid of any lingering thoughts. My attention goes right back to the duel taking place in front of me. Nott quickly aims a spell at the knees and manages to bring the other boy to his knees.

“Mr. Nott wins this duel! Please step off the platform, we will evaluate your performance.”

During the practice duels today, you watch it, think of ways to help the person improve, and point out things they might have done wrong. At the end, the professor picks people raising their hands to allow them to give their feedback. Participating is part of the grade you get in here. I personally prefer giving feedback then dueling. I’m not the best at casting, I do give out good defense spells though. That should mean something, I hope.

“Let’s start with Nott, does anyone have feedback for him?”

A couple of people spread apart raised their hands. One by one they all ask questions and give feedback. They mention his feet and posture when he stands. Arms fully stretched out where it would have been more flexible to bend it slightly. When he casts he shouldn’t be walking backward. They shortly switch to the other boy’s questions and feedback. The way he never gave himself the opening to cast an offensive spell often. He would move around his area a lot. Almost slipping off the stage during one of those movements. Tom and his group privately discussed with one another. They’re probably giving Nott their own feedback and suggestions privately.

“Now, Riddle I want you to come up and…,” he scans the room for another student. After some time he points his finger at me. “You.”

I could have had a smooth sailing class. I was so close to not having to go up there. My hands start sweating a bit, my anxiety jumbling my thoughts together. Riddle’s already up there and soon to be on his side of the platform. Taking his wand out and wandering his fingers over the design. I gulp, a big toad stuck in my throat. I wipe my hands on my robe and start up the stairs. Riddle seems as unbothered as ever. We bow, turn, then walk ten paces back. During this time I try predicting who will cast first. I don’t know him very well, I’ve also never seen him duel.

I take my dueling stance and wait for the signal to start. Hoping, praying, that I don’t embarrass myself. Slipping up is not allowed, not when going against him.

~////////////////𓆙////////////////~

Taglist:

@empath-bunny

[pilvimarja]

Drabble | Ficlet | ●●● | teen Lawrusso | adult Lawrusso |

Prompt used: “Were you drawing me?”

The final period of math with Mrs. Woodward always feels like a painful, mind-numbing eternity. The old hag adjusts her horn-rimmed glasses and drones on about equations on the other side of the classroom, completely oblivious to the fact that her monotonous voice and the hum of the overhead projector threaten to lull half of the class to sleep.

Johnny rests his cheek against his knuckles and pulls out a fresh sheet of graph paper from his trapper keeper. He starts to doodle in the margins, faint lines that begin to take the shape of various cartoon characters that look slightly off because he’s drawing them from memory.

His gaze wanders around the classroom and gets stuck on LaRusso who sits a few desks away from him. His eyes are on the equations Mrs. Woodward is writing on her transparency, but it doesn’t look like he’s any more interested in taking notes than Johnny.

Johnny studies his profile, the sharp cut of his jawline and the tiny bump on the bridge of his nose, how he worries at his bottom lip with his too-big front teeth.

His hand is moving on the paper before he realizes what he’s doing, and when he looks down, there’s a rough sketch of LaRusso’s face next to a doodle of Daffy Duck.

Johnny drops his pencil, ready to crumple the entire paper in disgust, but he stops himself at the last moment and turns his eyes back on LaRusso.

Maybe he can salvage his sketch and turn it into something unflattering, slip it into LaRusso’s locker after class.

Johnny grins to himself as he sets his pencil back on the paper and continues to work on his sketch.

He tries to exaggerate LaRusso’s most distinctive features, but it’s like there’s a wire loose between his hand and brain, because the face on the paper isn’t the least bit unflattering.

Johnny’s a little horrified to realize that he’s made LaRusso’s stupid face just as pretty as it is in real life. His cheeks prickle with heat as he stares at the dark lines from his pencil, the way they’ve captured the slender arch of LaRusso's neck, the full curve of his ridiculous, pouty mouth and—

Fuck.

He turns his eyes back on LaRusso and jumps in his seat when he realizes that his model is staring back. There’s a confused, slightly suspicious pinch between LaRusso’s eyebrows as his eyes flick between Johnny’s face and the paper on his desk.

Johnny shoves the drawing into his trapper keeper and pretends to pay attention to Mrs. Woodward's equations for the remaining ten minutes of class. He feels LaRusso’s eyes on him, drilling into his beet red left cheek and he’s tempted to give him the finger, but he doesn’t want to spend his Saturday in detention.

When the bell finally rings, LaRusso scrambles up from his seat and makes his way to Johnny's desk.

“Hey, man, were you drawing me or something?”

Johnny pretends not to hear him. He hurries into the hallway and elbows through the crowd of students, but LaRusso catches up and circles around him until he’s blocking Johnny’s way to the lobby.

“What the hell is your problem, LaRusso?” Johnny barks, pretty sure his face is the same shade of red as LaRusso’s over-sized hoodie.

“What’s my problem?” LaRusso laughs, a little incredulous. “You’re the one who kept staring at me for the last twenty minutes of class like a creep.” He drops his gaze to the trapper keeper Johnny’s clutching against his chest. “Come on, Johnny, I know you were drawing me. I just wanna see it, okay?”

Johnny gives LaRusso a stone-faced glare. “Why?”

“I don’t know, man, just curious, I guess,” LaRusso says airily, like it’s no big deal and Johnny’s being a stubborn ass.

He reaches out for the paper that’s peeking out from the bottom of the trapper keeper, his eyes huge and wary like Johnny’s some rabid dog, ready to sink his teeth into his wrist.

And Johnny doesn’t know why he let’s LaRusso grab the paper and pull it out of the folder, but he does, and now it's too late to do anything about it.

“It’s, uh…” LaRusso shakes his head as he blinks at Johnny’s drawing, his brows climbing towards his hairline.

“That bad, huh?” Johnny sneers.

“What? No! I mean, I guess I was expecting something like those pictures in Mad Magazine, you know?” LaRusso strokes his fingers along the pencilled lines of his nose and brings his hand up to touch his actual nose. “I had no idea you were into art and stuff.”

“I’m not,” Johnny insists, but that’s a lie. He used to spend hours in his room, sketching his favorite superheroes and cool cars and hot bikini-clad babes riding unicorns and badass dragons.

“Well, it’s really good.” LaRusso hands the drawing back to Johnny and glances around the half-empty hallway. “I, uh, I could pose for you sometime. If you like.”

Johnny wants to laugh at the suggestion, but there’s something vulnerable in LaRusso’s expression and he gets the feeling that there’s some hidden layer in the offer. Like one of those invisible olive branches.

He looks around to make sure there are no Cobras in the hallway and shoves the drawing back to LaRusso’s hands.

“Maybe, if I'm desperate.”