Peculiar Creature.

peculiar creature.

pairings. lorenzo berkshire x fem!reader

about. lorenzo meets a stranger in the forbidden forest.

warnings. 🤔🤔

ricky rocks. this was long awaited.

“you’re a peculiar creature, aren’t you?”

you stare back into the large, mischievous brown eyes of a boy who was crouched down at then edge of the cove, examining you with troublesome intentions.

“what are you doing here?”

“swimming,” you said bluntly, pushing further into the deep, dark waters. he still watches you carefully, leaning back to his feet where his height is fully extended. “what are you doing here?”

he scoffs, his head tipping back as if finding your question ridiculous, "awfully dangerous for you to be all the way out here by yourself. haven't you ever been warned to stay out of the forbidden forest?"

you narrow your look on him at the way he deflects your question, his head tilting as he begins to wander further around the lagoon, circling you now as he waits for you to speak.

"what's your name?"

"lorenzo," he speaks fast, expecting that, as if he was wanting and waiting for you to ask it. "and you?"

"y/n."

“strange name.”

“and yours isn’t?”

a hollow laughs comes from deep in the back of his throat at your retort but he doesn’t find it as funny as he makes it seem, “you’re quick, aren’t you?”

“but you like that, don’t you?” your eyes narrowed in on him, pushing out further into the water so your further from him just in case he were to reach for you.

“and you know what i like how?” he mirrors your tapered expression, leaning against a tree placed close to the water. he was interested, really interested in what you were.

“i know boys exactly like you.”

“oh, you do?” his lips twitch upwards, finding your proceedings amusing.

“they come here a lot,” you tip your head, now studying him better than ever and the way he held himself. “with girls and booze and their loud mouths.”

you looked annoyed in thought of this making him chuckle under his breath, “you don’t like the company?”

“not usually.”

“why come here then?”

“no where else better to go.”

lorenzo makes a closer speculation of your face now, realizing he had never seen you before—which he found very strange, “what year are you?”

because lorenzo knew all the pretty faces at hogwarts.

“who said anything about me being in school?” you smiled as his face swooped into a confused expression, watching you sink further into the water till you were no longer in sight.

navigation.

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I’d love to see you do a Karate Kid/Cobra Kai take on the tumblr post “Every found family has: asshole with a heart of gold and self esteem issues, emotional support himbo, incredibly cool character who is the only one with a brain cell, furious sassy bisexual hiding pain, only one capable of keeping a plant alive”

lol i love this sm

here ya goo

Remember me when you’re the no. 1 author of the world

ofc, keep it 💯💯 *cool emoji*

every found family has:

asshole with a heart of gold and self esteem issues

emotional support himbo

incredibly cool character who is the only one with a brain cell

furious sassy bisexual hiding pain

only one capable of keeping a plant alive

unprofessional help.

pairings. robby keene x fem!reader

about. you dislocated your shoulder, robby has to pop it back into place.

warnings. injury (dislocated shoulder), swearing

ricky rocks. wrote this A LONG TIME ago, but didn’t finish. it’s basically a crack-fic because there’s no purpose to the story.

“okay, just take a deep breath, alright?”

his words didn’t stop the whining coming all the way from the back of your throat, deep breathy whines that drawed out into groans of deep, deep pain.

“y/n, breathe,” he whsipered, now looking directly into your eyes, realizing you were holding your breath, trying to make yourself pass out, trying to make it all go away.

he slowly pushed you to the ground on your stomach, making you yell, both his hands on your dislocated shoulder pressing hard but carefully.

“robby—robby, i cant do this, i cant do this,” you stuttered out his name, breathy and all caught up in your throat as your chest rumbled up in down. your eyes were wide with terror as they connected with his, just as freaked out, screaming out, but he kept it calm as he pulled it slowly, like he was preparing himself to pop it back into place.

“y/n, you have to-“

“robby no!”

“your shoulder is dislocated. i need to pop it back into place,” the reality of the situation seem to hit you the moment he said those words, his eyes piercing yours with sympathy but harshness. you winced, resisting the urge to cry as the pain surged through your body in large waves. “it’s going to hurt, but i’m trying to help you. it’ll hurt a lot less.”

you bit the inside of your cheek, slowly pulling your eyes from his, settling onto the ground. you became very hyper aware of everything that you were feeling and any slight movement that would shift through your bones.

robby was straddling, pinning you tightly to the ground as he mentally prepared for this himself. he had never put a shoulder back in its place, but he had seen it done before.

“y/n, you’ll be fine. guys at the skatepark have this happen all the time to them. once they get popped into place, they’re good as new,” his version of reassurance made your stomach slightly settle; he could tell by the way your body became more relaxed. “you ready?”

you nodded your head.

“i need you to say it aloud, are you ready?”

“yes, yes, robby, just please make the pain stop,” you spoke frantically, slightly squirming beneath his light movement. “just do it!”

he pops it into place right as you yell out your sentence, but it finishes out in a strangle cry.

“good girl,” he breathes out, relieved, placing his hand against your head in a encouraging way, “good, y/n. now let’s get you some actual medical help.”

navigation.

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cup pong.

pairings. frat boy!jj maybank x fem!reader

about. jj needs a cup pong partner

warnings. drinking, swearing, gif not mine

ricky is typing… marry late christmas cowboys! love you

you had never experienced a party quite like a frat one with people on the roof and others throwing up within the front bushes that were long dead from previous sick party goers.

it was honestly something like a dream, but not those i-can’t-believe-i’m-actually-here-this-is-so-amazing dreams, but more or so what-the-fuck kind of dream. it didn’t feel real and that was more or so due to the flashing lights coming from the cheap LED plastic thing, shoved in the corner that made everything seem so fast and fake.

you loved it.

you had been there for an hour, speaking with random people and some you had recognized from your classes, while also dancing, because whats a party without some drunken swinging of the hips and grinding on boys you didn’t know.

you found yourself wandering, slipping past people in the homey atmosphere, looking for an invitation of company, but it seemed instead, the invitation found you.

you felt someone yank you by the belt loop of your jeans causing you to drop your drink the minute your back hit the rough surface of someone’s chest. you winced, looking down to the spilled contents of your beer.

you almost pouted if it weren’t for the person who had pulled you back in the first place, flipped you to face them, immediately shoving words into your mouth, “shit, i’m sorry about that, doll,” he eyed you up and down, his tongue quickly swiping across his bottom lip while his hand lightly held your shoulder, “here, let’s get you another drink.”

you felt completely astounded as his back straightened and removed his hand from your shoulder to reach up in the air, his eyes searching the room before landing on someone, “yo pope, get this girl another drink.” you watched a boy in a blue shirt nod before pushing himself off the wall, disappearing toward the kitchen.

you blinked a couple of times, trying to focus on the boy in front of you who seemed way too focused on you in that moment. he had a black hat on, flipped backwards, allowing hair to peak out and dip close to his forehead while he wore a simple plain white teeshirt that smelt of booze and weirdly cherry chapstick.

“you good?”

“yeah,” you coughed slightly, “i’m fine.”

“good,” he slight smiled, patting your back lightly before adjusting his stance.

“yo, jj, you got a partner or not?”

the boy, 'jj', looked at you with a snide smile, “you’re my cup pong partner, what’s your name?”

you replied with your name before mumbling, “i’m not good at cup pong.”

“doesn’t matter,” he pulled you closer by your forearm to where you were front and center to the ping pong table with his hand now on your back, extending his hand out and explaining, “all you gotta do is take a turn and throw the ball, i’ll take care of the rest.”

“what, you some cup pong god?” you turned your head a bit back to get a look of his face and in return his lips twitched a bit upward into a smirk.

“if you wanna call it that,” he shrugs a bit before dragging his eyes from your own before picking up one of the ping pong balls, sending it to the other end of the table and landing in one of the back cups creating cheers to sound in your ears.

jesus christ.

“what was that?”

“what do you mean ‘what was that’?” he smiled slightly at your strained question.

“oh fuck you,” you shook your head before crossing your arms, finding the skill he had absolutely ridiculous.

“your turn, sweetheart,” he smiled sweetly making you frown harder before taking the white ball he offered you.

like you had said before, you weren’t good at cup pong, so when you tossed the ball, it landed no where near any of the nine cups left.

“c’mon, you’re killing me, y/n,” he winced once analyzing the outcome of your shot, “you gotta at least try to aim.”

“i told you i wasn’t good,” you grimaced, licking the inside of your cheek.

“your partner sucks, maybank.”

“hey, why don’t you focus on your own aim, john ole’ boy. the last time i checked, sarah was a better thrower than you,” he stabs his finger through the air toward a boy on the other side of the pong table. the boy, "john", waved him off with an annoyed look before jj looked back down on you. "you suck."

“i thought you were a pro and were ‘going to take care of this’,” you shot back with almost annoyance.

“yeah, but i’m going to need a little more effort.”

“are you two done?”

“just take your shot john b," his voice comes up highly irritated as he calls out to him, but still keeping his eyes on you. "it's easy, alright? watch john b, even as he's absolutely dog shit at pong, he always makes the first shot."

and just like that, the collision of ball to beer fills your ears even over the loud party music. you stare at the cup for awhile before back up to jj who gives you a knowing look; i told you so.

"drink up, sweetheart," he hands you the cup, tapping the bottom the moment you took it. "it's about to be a long game."

jj wasn't wrong. you could tell over time he was slowly regretting even choosing you as a partner, but nevertheless, he was more supportive with each shot you made with light touches against your lower back, adjusting your arm and overall position, drinking half the cups john b or sarah made, and making words of encouragement.

"looks like your partner is draggin' you down, maybank."

"why don't you focus on yourself, she's still doin' better than you when it was your first time," and the defending. "you look like you're sweating pal, because you know i'm right and we're gonna win because you're still trash."

"talk to me when youre actually winning and not down by two."

jj rolls his eyes before focusing back on you, "easy shot, y/n, there's only three cups left, all you got to do is aim for one of the back ones... easiest ones, you got it."

you stare at him for a moment like he was insane because you truly hadn't made more than one tonight, so how was he expecting you to straighten up now?

"don't worry about it, kid. we lose, we lose, but it'd be really nice if we won."

no pressure.

you straighten your back with the roll of your shoulders once inline with the middle of the table. you try your best to envision the best possible way to shoot the ball, but honestly, you didn't even know what you were looking for to make a perfect shot.

jj's hand lands on your back, as if providing reassurance to your success. you relax to this and allow the ball to release from your hold. it's like slowmo as you watch it travel across the table till it lands right in the front red solo cup with a clash.

"yes!" you feel jj rush against you, almost knocking you over if it weren't for his arms to wrap around you entirely like a steel trap of excitement. "let's go, baby! that's exactly what i'm talking about, y/n!"

he gives you a light shake of endearment before replacing your spot in front of the table and, of course, making it right into the cup.

"balls back!" he motions for a ball to which one is bounced his way, but before he can make another perfect shot, john b frantically waves his arm in the air.

"it's not your turn, maybank. it's your partner's."

you can tell the blonde boy winces at this before slowly turning to you. he wasn't going to argue this because he knew john b was right and it was your turn and you'd have to take it whether you wanted to or not.

you shared the same distraught look he had on his face once he extended his arm out to you to take the white plastic ball soaked in beer. you took it and he gave you a sympathetic look, like this was the worst thing in the world.

"you got it, kid."

"yep."

you didn't. you barely came close. and any second chances you'd get were thrown out the window once sarah made it perfectly into their last cup, deeming you and jj the losers.

"shit," you bit into your bottom lip, feeling bad and almost not wanting to face jj in fear of the disappointed look he'd probably have on his face.

it was strange; this was only a dumb drinking game and jj was only someone you met less than ten minutes ago, so why did you get a terrible taste in your mouth and a feeling that you had just let him down.

"well, you definitely need more practice," he propped his hands on his hips as he thinks, "but you're not terrible."

you turn, slightly amused, "well, thanks."

he returns a slight grin, "yeah," he wipes his mouth, "so, what now?"

you now fully maneuver your body to face his with all attention, "I believe you owe me a drink."

navigation.

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