#ed teach character study

[boatcats]

Arachnophobia

Ed's spider tattoos through the years.

Fic inspired by a post by @areyoudoingthis

[kay-claire]

I finally finished this! I actually started this drawing n June last year, abandoned it, and then decided to try and finish it again this month before season 2 comes out.

AU where Izzy is a sculptor

[shelfperson]

fiona apple, amiright?

*tosses this video into the edizzy tag like a zebra thigh into the lion's den and then skitters away*

[katmiscellanious]

I truly think Stede is about to have his own breakdown. Now, idk if it’s going to happen at the end of this season or in the 3rd if we get one. But Stede has been ignoring his trauma for too long.

Stede is good with other people’s emotions because he knows how he wants people to treat his own. But he’s so busy pushing people to better places and helping others that he completely disregards what he’s gone through. He hasn’t ANYONE what happened in those woods the night he escaped the British. He hasn’t told anyone about what Badminton’s said to him, or being bullied, or the way his father treated him. I don’t even know (and I doubt) he’s even REALLY told Ed just how trapped he was in his marriage with Mary.

When Stede really, actually kills a man on purpose, instead of talking it out, he throws himself into Ed’s arms. And Ed obliges because I think this is the kind of comfort he knows how to give.

And now we can see, as Ed rises to better places, Stede is descending. Stede has discovered his own power. He’s discovered he doesn’t have to take shit from people and while I’m so glad for him, he’s also doing so without addressing that’s he’s breaking his own “not fighting violence with violence” and “talk it through as a crew” and “turn poison into positivity” It feels good now, but especially without working it out in a meaningful way, he’s losing himself to it. He thinks he needs to be this macho tough guy to feel powerful, cause he’s discovered what all the people he’s helped have, that power feels good in the moment. And then, he’ll, you’ve done one bad thing, why not another? It doesn’t feel as bad as you thought? So maybe it’s normal? But then the trauma comes, and you wonder if your a good person anymore, or if you ever were? But you ignore the feeling, because it feels good, and your not weak any more. Nobody can hurt your. So drown yourself in more power or liquor or drugs. Who cares if your a bad person? If people hurt you, you hurt them back. And people respect you for it. And by the time you look back and realize how bad things are, you might think it’s too late to change.

Violence and power is like a drug, you chase the high of power, and when you start to feel it, you remind yourself why you do it with more shows of violence and your tolerance for it just gets higher and higher until the only person left to hurt is yourself, and your Blackbeard, and your sailing your ship into a storm to kill yourself and your entire crew, because your an unlovable monster and you can’t see the light beyond the violence anymore.

Ed and Izzy don’t quite see what’s happening as a bad thing because to them, this is normal pirate stuff. And Stede is Stede. Kind, loving, soft, fabric loving Stede, who is so in tune with people’s emotions he literally therapy’d Ted Lowe’s crew into turning on him in the middle of being tortured. Stede couldn’t possibly become like them. He’s just more piratey now. And see? Look how much fun he’s having? He’s fine!

And Ed? He sees Stede happy and powerful and is so happy for him that he doesn’t even consider asking Stede to come with him this time when he decides to quit and become a fisherman. Ed thinks they are on different paths. And he doesn’t even conceive that this path is a danger to Stede, because it’s Stede. Stede could never get as bad as he did. Right? So best to just end things and let him be happy before either of them get to attached (though, it’s a little fucking late for that one bud).

Mark my words, unless somebody steps in and realizes what’s happening, Stede is going to end up just like all the other pirates we’ve seen. And there is only one way that kind of violence can end, with him getting himself killed, either someone else’s hands, or his own.

[serennn17]

Learning to Love Me Like You

Rated G | 523 | Mini One Shot

Ed doesn't understand why Stede loves him so much, but he's learning that he doesn't need to because Stede is going to love him anyway.

Read on AO3 Here

[lanternlit]

@dimitresca said: top or bottom for hannibal, will, izzy hands, Ed — any muses you feel like doing this for. i feel like it’s a classic question

NSFW HEADCANON MEME    /    ACCEPTING ↷

Hannibal — mostly top (mostly a sadist with a secret masochist side)

Will — mostly bottom (mostly a masochist with a secret sadist side)

Izzy — lawful bottom

Edward — chaotic switch

A few bonus muses, since you enabled

Clara — a bossy top

Iris — a repressed bottom

Jillian — no power dynamics whatsoever, instant turn-off, but positions do not really matter

Lucius — neutral top, give him an older, damaged man to fix by domming him

[sceletaflores]

GOT YOUR HEART IN A HEADLOCK…

꩜ masterlists ꩜ update blog ꩜ requests ꩜ taglist ꩜

ೃ⁀➷ pair: bruce wayne x vigilante!fem!reader

ೃ⁀➷ wc: 3.6k

ೃ⁀➷ contains: 18+ SMUT MDNI, nat can’t stop making oc reader characters, somewhat angsty cause i need it to function, bruce's pov, p in v, not rough sex and not love making but another third thing, unprotected sex (do as sex ed teaches, not as i write), slight pain kink, biting, finger sucking RAAAHHH, one tiny mention of blood, bruce wayne experiences feelings, ending is basically the “fucked in missionary and got emotional about it” meme, porn with a little too much plot, no use of y/n.

ೃ⁀➷ nat’s note: oh em gee...baby's first dc fic...i'm so terrified to post this LMAO but i need to because this man just makes me want to write all the sad, angsty, pining/longing filled fics in the world. it’s his beautiful tortured eyes, they’ve transfixed me. title is ofc from imogen heap's 'headlock' cause i'm clearly too obsessed with that album i've named like three fics after it's tracks AND it's just such a bruce song i had to. hope you love it, kisses!

dividers by lovely @saradika-graphics!

bruce wayne gets an unexpected visitor…

Rain pelts at the spotless windows of Bruce's office. Sharp and impossible to ignore in the deep silence shrouding the room.

The overhead lights are dimmed, leaving the only glow in the room the flickering monitors lining the top of his desk. Bruce is hunched over them, shirt sleeves rolled to his elbows, collar undone, tired eyes fleeting over grainy security footage and recent police reports.

A tension lives in his shoulders as his hands fly over the expanse of his keyboard. The kind that never leaves. He’s chasing patterns again—strings of mob movement, scattered drug shipments, whispers of reemerging cartels. 

It’s not often that he brings his, nightly work, to the tower—but something about the cave felt too heavy. Too suffocating, too soaked in grief and memory for him to get any real work done. Wayne tower, with its sleek sterility, gives him just enough distance to pretend silence is solacing instead of crushing.

Bruce needed that silence. Or maybe he needed the illusion of it—the unostentatious stillness of glass and steel, high enough above the rot of Gotham’s underbelly to try and escape the weight in his chest.

He exhales through his nose, slow and quiet, forearms tensing as he rewinds the surveillance footage for a third time. The storm is growing merciless—thunder cracking like bones, lightning throwing brief, jagged shadows across the gleaming floor. Bruce doesn’t flinch. Doesn’t blink. He just leans further into the static buzz of his monitor, the comfort of control.

Until he feels it.

That shift. 

That slow coil in his gut. The cold drag of something other licking at the edge of the air. A chill snakes its way up his spine and stirs the hair on the back of his neck, pressing against his senses in a way he’s become all too familiar with.

He cuts his eyes to the wall of windows before his desk. At first, he sees nothing but a dark sky. The rain clouds so thick and imposing they mute the shine of the stars, leaving behind a sea of pitch black.

A bolt of lighting rips across the sky—and for half a heartbeat, you’re there.

Seventy eight stories up, floating just outside the glass, shimmering with an ethereal glow. Your form is only half-phased, half solid. Raindrops slip right through you, never landing, never soaking. You press a hand to the glass, head tilted slightly as though amused.��

Bruce doesn’t speak, but his eyes never leave yours.

You don’t knock. You never do.

You phase through the glass like it’s water, it doesn’t creak. It hums—a low rumble of energy. When your boots touch the polished floor, your form sharpens into full opacity, but the essence still clings to your skin. He can smell the ozone.

You don’t speak, not at first. You just stand there, dripping with power instead of rain, head tilting the other way now as you study him like you always do—like you’re looking straight through the flesh and bone, into whatever broken thing is holding it all together.

Bruce forces down the unease curling in the pit of his stomach, he turns his eyes back to the monitors. “You’re late.” His voice is low, sandpaper dry from disuse.

You hum, gliding a few slow steps toward his desk. He can feel the shift in the room—colder, tighter, like the air itself is shrinking away from your presence. 

“I didn’t know we had a date.”

“We didn’t.”

“Then I’m on time.”

Files appear out of thin air, materializing right in front of his eyes. They simply hover for a moment, bathed in a flickering white hue and edged in smoke—until they fall onto his desk with a muted thump. The pages glide their way in front of him with delicate flutter—chilled only by the cold that clings to them from your plane. 

“Where did you get these?” he mutters, scanning the top page. Intelligence. Photos. Notes scrawled in your familiar handwriting. It’s a roster—names he recognizes, faces he’s seen before in police reports and coroner files. All connected to the Falcone remnants. 

“You’re welcome” you say dryly, turning to lean against the edge of his desk. You cross one leg over the other, arms folding over your chest. “Or do I only get a ‘thank you’ if I come gift-wrapped in latex and a chipper attitude?”

Bruce bites back a scoff, brows drawing together the more he reads over the pages. He knows this isn’t a friendly transaction, that it’s the furthest thing from you simply helping him from the kindness of your still heart. You come bearing gifts because you need something.

Bruce doesn’t rise from his chair. He just leans back slowly, eyes dragging up to meet yours. “What do you want, Spectress.”

Your head tilts, he can’t help but let his eyes run along the smooth column of your throat. “You.”

A beat. Bruce’s jaw ticks.

Then you add, “Well not you, you. Not yet.” Your lips curl around the words like they’re a dare. “Your eyes on something for me. There’s been a shift in the Veil, someone’s poking holes again. Thought some of your fancy tech might catch the bleed.”

Bruce stares, hard. He hopes you can still feel the weight of it—like the point of a blade pressed to skin. It’s his default, the way he carves answers out of people who fear the Bat. But you’re not some masked rookie wannabe he can intimidate into compliance with a look. If anything, the pressure only makes your smirk deepen.

“A shift in the Veil,” he repeats, voice low and quiet. Not mocking. Not doubting. Just…curious.

You nod, leaning a little closer, your body an elegant portrait of muscle and menace draped across his desk. “Someone’s not just brushing against it, Bruce. They’re trying to punch through. It’s not subtle.” You inhale a breath you don’t need. “The air is wrong. I can’t reach them. Dead things don’t stay quiet.”

He exhales sharply through his nose, almost a scoff, though there’s no humor in it. “And you think I can track the metaphysical footprint of a ghost hacker.”

Your smile blooms, sharp and lovely like a blade catching the moonlight. “I wouldn’t be asking if it wasn’t a priority. The last thing I want to admit is that I need your help. But it’s like something’s…tugging. Someone reaching across, but they’re messy. Clumsy. They don’t know what they’re doing, just that they have the power to do it.” 

Bruce’s fingers twitch over the papers, they crinkle softly under his palm. The only sign that your words have sunk teeth into him. This isn’t some abstract ghost story you’re using to toy with him. This is intel. This is you saying something’s coming.

And The Batman doesn't deal well with what he can’t predict.

“Black Mask?”

“I think Black Mask wouldn’t have it in him to stay quiet if it was.”

Your voice is softer now, the flirtatious edge dulled to something more dangerous. The lights of the monitors cast a faint, blue halo over your face, catching in the slight glow that never leaves your eyes. Bruce notices the way your hand flexes on the desk, your nails dragging faint lines into the polished surface, like you’re grounding yourself—fighting the urge to phase away.

He sits forward slowly, reading the movement for what it is. “You’re scared.”

That makes your smile twitch. Not gone—never gone—but something in your face flickers. Like a candle too close to the wind.

“I don’t scare when it comes to the dead, Bruce.” A pause. “I’m what they whisper too.”

Bruce says nothing. His throat works around a swallow. Your presence has always rattled him. Not because you’re terrifying. He’s faced terrifying. It’s because you see him. 

You see the pulses of emotion he tries his hardest to keep buried, all haloed around him in a hazy smoke of aura and vulnerability. You don’t only test the limits of his control, you blow right through them with all the ease in the world. 

It grates on every inch of his nerves.

And still—still—he can’t help the way his eyes drop. The subtle arc of your hip against his desk. The glow of your power against the dark fabric of your suit. You shouldn’t look this soft, not with the weight you carry. Not with the death you wear like a second skin.

But you do. And it kills him.

Bruce swallows hard, dragging his gaze back to your face. You’re watching him with something like amusement, like you know exactly where his thoughts just wandered.

“You came all this way just for a file drop and a metaphysical theory?”

You don’t answer, letting the silence swell between you until it starts to choke. The room hums with it—something unspoken and aching. That same tension that’s always been there between the two of you, taut as wire. Neither of you ever acknowledge it directly. You dance around it like a live current, but tonight—tonight it feels closer to snapping.

You finally speak. “I saw the Gazette.” You look out to the skyline, eyes shining. “Wayne tower, only the second best view in Gotham, doesn't that just drive you crazy?”

Bruce doesn't take his gaze off you. “Not particularly.”

“What’s the first?”

“I’ll let you know when I find it.”

The unexplainable feeling between you both is pulsing now, alive and unbearable in a way that makes Bruce’s chest tighten. He leans back in his chair, watching you, not sure if he’s challenging you or waiting for you to make the next move. Your gaze flickers between his eyes, his lips, his posture—always studying, always probing.

“Are we done here?”

You hum absentmindedly, pushing off the desk in a fluid motion. The air shifts again as you move. The room feels too small all of a sudden. The rain outside intensifies, and with it, the tension in the air thickens. Bruce can almost taste it—something sharp, eclectic, but also heavy and unwilling to settle.

You walk closer, slow, like you're testing how close you can get before he tenses.

He doesn’t.

That’s the game you always play.

Your tone is velvet stretched over teeth. “I’ve seen inside you, Bruce,” you whisper, the sound pressing against his ribs. “The regret, the rage. The rot. The want. You keep it locked down in suits and silence, but I see it. And it calls to me.”

You circle the desk slowly, not bothering to hide the way your fingers trail across the back of his chair as you pass. Shadows twist and turn around your boots, clinging to the shape of you like they miss you when you're gone. The storm throws another bolt of light against the glass, and your shadow cuts across the floor, long and spindled. Almost wrong.

Bruce doesn’t move, doesn’t even shiver when your fingers drift to his collar and toy with the loose button near his throat. Your touch is cool, just wrong enough to raise goosebumps in its wake. A phantom’s touch.

“You always want what you can’t have, Bruce.”

Your words hit like a jolt of electricity, sharp and raw, and before he can stop himself, he’s standing. The chair scraping against the floor feels like a bomb going off in the silence. But it’s not the anger that drives him. Not entirely.

No, it’s the undeniable attraction. The way your presence disrupts everything he’s spent decades building. The way your very being forces him to question everything he knew about control, power, desire.

“You should leave.” It’s not a command. It’s not a suggestion. It’s…a warning, maybe. He couldn’t tell if you’d heed it. You both know you never do.

“I won’t ask twice,” you whisper, spectral power curling from your skin in soft tendrils that graze his chest. “Help me find who’s bleeding into the Veil , and I’ll make it worth your while.”

Bruce doesn’t need to ask what you mean.

Your hand flattens against his chest, his heartbeat loud and strong beneath your palm. The only warmth in the room.

His hand shoots up fast—too fast—and grabs your wrist. Not rough, but not soft either. Just enough force to anchor, to test the reality of you. His grip burns against your chill.

“I don’t need incentive.”

Your smile curls dangerously, and you phase. Right through his grasp. His fingers snap closed around air, and you’re behind him now, voice purring against the back of his neck. “Liar.”

Bruce rounds his desk with an almost inhuman amount of speed, caging you against the windows. You let him. 

“This isn’t a game, Spectress,” he snarls, eyes burning. His face is close to yours now, too close. Your noses nearly brush. He should pull back. 

“So serious, Bruce,” you murmur, eyes flicking to his lips, then back to his eyes. “Always so fucking serious. All that control, all that rage, and you’ve never even let it out the fun way.”

A muscle jumps in his jaw. “You think that this is fun for me?” he asks, voice like gravel.

“I think you don’t even know how badly you need to come undone.”

Your words hang there. Heavy. Weighted. Inescapable.

And then your mouth is right there—sinful lips brushing against his ear. “Let me show you.”

It’s laughably desperate when your mouths finally meet. Fire and ice coming together in a blaze of teeth and tension and unsaid things. A war between two people who don’t know how to surrender without blood. Neither of you gentle. Neither of you soft. His hands grip your hips roughly, your back hits the glass with more force he’d use on any other woman. 

You bite his lip as he lifts you off the floor like you weigh nothing—like the world could end beneath his feet and he wouldn’t notice as long as your lips stay on his. Your legs wrap around his waist, strong as they drag him further into you.

You meet him with all the power in your bones, your body flickering with that unearthly light as your hands fist the collar of his shirt and pull him impossibly closer. You taste like the dead. Like smoke. Like something Bruce shouldn’t want, and can’t stop needing.

His hips slot against yours, and he’s hard. The heavy weight of his cock pushing against the front of his slacks. You moan low into his mouth, and it’s not ghostly—it’s human. Raw. And that’s what undoes him more than anything. The reminder that beneath all your power, your secrets, your cold—

You’re real.

"You’re soaked in death," he mutters against your mouth, voice raw. "And I still—"

“Still want to fuck me,” you finish, breathless, smirking against his lips. “I can feel it. You think I don’t know what your need tastes like?”

Your hand slides down between your bodies, cupping the thick heat straining against the front of his pants. Bruce hisses through his teeth, hips jerking into your touch, and you laugh—low and lovely and full of wicked delight.

“Look at you,” you murmur, voice thick with sin as you stare down to take in the way his cock strains against your stomach. “So fucking hard for the dead girl.”

It’s more than he can stomach, and Bruce snaps.

He uses a single hand to rip his belt open, the other bracing your thigh against the window so hard the glass groans. Your suit splits open at the hips with a flick of your fingers, the obsidian fabric shifting and slithering like something alive, giving way to skin that’s too perfect, too cold, and he groans—low, rough, helpless. Your suit gone, his shirt shoved up, his pants shoved down just enough for skin to meet skin—desperate and unfiltered.

There’s no ceremony. No slow lead-in. Just the stretch, the pressure, the way your body clenches around him like you’ve been waiting for this—aching for it.

The whole damn building seems to shudder, and your laugh comes out breathless, thrilled. Gotham burns beneath you in the stormlight, streaks of red and gold and shadow, a perfect backdrop to something that was never meant to be soft.

You gasp, sharp nails raking welts down the muscle of his back at the sting of his thick cock forcing a place for itself inside of you. He can feel the way the walls of your cunt flutter around him, gentle caresses that have something dark and consuming blooming in the pit of his stomach.

“You’re soaked,” he mutters against the hollow of your throat, dragging his mouth down the glowing seam of your collarbone, sucking a mark where the light pulses the brightest. “You like this.”

You don’t answer, locking your ankles behind him, digging your nails into his shoulders hard enough to make him snarl. “Harder, Bruce. I can take it.”

He doesn’t need to be told twice.

Every thrust is deep and mean, hips slapping against the cradle of your thighs mercilessly. The sound of skin meeting skin fills the room, wet and obscene. You clench around him, and he groans, fingers digging into your hips so hard they’ll bruise if you let them. 

You meet every thrust with a vicious grind of your hips, moaning his name like a prayer and a curse all at once—hand reaching back blindly to slap the glass, leaving a foggy print behind. The groan that rips its way from his chest is filthy, guttural, primal.

You’re impossibly wet, impossibly tight, and the angle—Christ, the angle—lets him grind so deep it feels like he’s trying to carve himself into your spine. Bruce’s eyes fall to where your bodies are joined, he watches the way his cock punches in and out of your swollen cunt. His skin is coated in your messy wetness, glistening in the moonlight each time he pulls out before disappearing back into your addictive warmth.

Your power lashes around you both, the lights flickering, the storm outside growing louder. Somewhere, the shadows moan.

“You love it,” he growls, voice like thunder against your ear. “Getting fucked like this. Against the glass. Knowing anyone could look up and see—”

“Bruce.” Your voice is the deepest form of sin, soaked in gasoline and waiting to be ignited by the match that only he has the ability of sparking.

Bruce can hardly stand it. The nasty, possessive feeling beats against his ribcage almost as hard as his heart. Scratching and clawing and demanding to be set free. His cock throbs inside of you. He’s close, and the incoherent gurgle of his name passing through your lips only spurs him on.

He’s moving before his brain can process it, his hand loosening its unrelenting grip on the muscle of your thigh to cradle your cheek. It’s heartbreakingly tender, in such a way that he’d never use even when he’s playing up the soft, faux-sentimental fucks of Brucie Wayne. 

His thumb swipes across your slick bottom lip before he can think better of it. Your mouth falls open with a pleased moan, devilish tongue sweeping out to brush against his skin teasingly. For a heartstopping moment, Bruce wonders what it would be like to sink between those plush lips.

The cool kiss of them, or the sweet caress of your tongue, on the scorching tip of his cock. Just the thought has him shuddering, a bitten off curse falling from his lips as he pushes his thumb into your wanting mouth. Your eyes flutter closed, lashes fanning over your cheeks as you hollow them and suck.

“Fuck.” Bruce sets a brutal rhythm, hips pistoning into you with a desperation that belies the calm mask he wears for everyone else. But not for you. Never for you. You get the real thing—unfiltered, cracked open, all ugly need and unbearable weight. You take it, welcoming it with a tilt of your hips and a hiss of pleasure through your teeth as they bite down on his thumb roughly. 

You try to phase, instinctively—too much, too fast—but he grabs you harder, pins you down, keeps you there in your body. “No,” he growls, lips against your skin. “You’re not going anywhere. Not till I’m done.”

The coarse, dark hair dusted along his abs grinds over your sensitive clit with every thrust, the blunt head of his cock hammering against the sweet spot inside of you. His heavy balls slap the bruised, raw skin of your ass.

Bruce tilts his hips just so, and you howl.

Your orgasm hits like a supernatural event, your body clenching around him, pulsing with energy that sinks into him, through him, like it’s marking him from the inside out. He chokes on your name—your real name—and it sends another shock through your system.

Bruce spills into you with a growl that rattles through his chest, buried so deep he forgets what it feels like to be hollow. The pulse of his cock is in time with the pounding beat of his heart.

And he watches, eyes rapt, as you come back down. The heave of your chest as you suck in greedy lungfuls of air you haven’t needed in decades, the glowing satisfaction swirling through your cloudy eyes, your swollen lips slick and parted around the soft pants of pleasure—stained with his blood.

He watches the power only barely contained beneath your skin. The shining white of it swimming through your body languidly, like pure white ink spilled along the surface of a lake, pulsing with life. So fucking alive.

Bruce realizes then that he’s found it.

The best view in Gotham.

mini nat’s note: tagging some lovelies that showed interest in this mess @ebodebo @ovaryacted @lordlottie @wlwloverwrites @dixie-isnt-cool! i love you all...bad! bruce wayne isn't on my taglist, but i might add him later! i do possibly want to write more for him in the future, so yell at me to add him if you want! thank you for reading! mwah <3

[pomegranatesandtangerines]

based off this post

how I think (some of) the Dungeon Meshi characters would interact with an isekai-ed reader who's hyperfixation is dungeon meshi

includes: Laios, Falin, Kabru, and Toshiro (Shuro)

Laios

im imaging reader meeting him when he was a child

a little after Falin was born and after he was given the dungeon gourmet guide

reader actively seeking him out but kinda starts freaking out when they actually see him

reader decides to go with the approach being interested in his book

Laios was suspicious at first ( the book is one of the main reasons he got bullied )

but after some time and patience he got comfortable with you

I feel that Laios would be very attached to reader

like someone besides his sister who gets him, listens to him, communicates with him, etc.

listen as someone who is very hyperfixated on dungeon meshi at the moment I would be so invested in learning about monsters

and Laios is more then happy to talk about it for hours

reader making a point to support his dream of exploring the dungeons bc his parents are dicks

he wouldn't really be weirded out by reader seems to know so much about him, maybe early on but over time I feel he would just be glad to have someone like that by his side

low-key though,,, I think there would be a small small part of him that is kinda jealous over how reader seems to just,, get some people

Falin

I see reader being her number one hype-person as a child

reader would also beg her to teach them some magic

I think that Falin and reader would meet through Laios

Falin while she is outcasted from her home town, is still a litter more sociable then her brother

but what had her truly open up was not only the readers support of her magical talent but also the readers interest in learning about how biology works in this world

she also info dumps a ton

you know how she kept bringing Marcille things cause she wanted to eat them with her

she would 100% do that with reader,,, and the amount would increase when Laios leaves

Kabru

he would be veryyy fascinated by the reader

his hyperfixation is people. studying them, their anatomy, psychology, how they tick

he would absolutely notice how reader picks up on things, knows things about some people without even having met them, predict events

to put it simply he wants to study reader under a microscope but is also extremely suspicious of them

he's also gonna pull out all the stops to try charm his way into understanding reader

his distrust sky rockets the first time they lock eyes, he can see it in his eyes, this look of understanding the deepest parts of him

he does not like it

it takes a long ass time for him trust them and genuinely open up again

reader making a point to ask things that will make him want to info dump

"hey did you notice how x was acting today" or "did you hear that x and y got together? do you think they'll make it?"

gossip buddies

Toshiro

ALRIGHT LET ME START BY SAYING THIS, HE IS WAYYYY TOO MISCHARACTERIZED IN THIS FANDOM

and reader would be all too aware of this as well

he is heavily implied to have a hyperfixation on bugs, and had to at a young age become a master at masking and picking up on social norms

but anyways-

he would think reader is weird, mostly bc they would remind him of laios

slowly but surely I feel he would feel more comfortable

another case of the way to his heart is through the info dump

maybe walking back from a little adventure and noticing a beetle and showing him

now hes not gonna be as outwardly as excited as Laios

but it is slightly noticeable that he is interested and excited

reader offers to give it to him and asks him some questions

less info dumping and more info sprinkling but still he does like to talk about it

I think he would appreciate how they seem to pick up on his smaller details, maybe not a perfectly but still

[theflashjaygarrick]

People have spent so much time fleshing out random background male characters and so for feminism I am going to give one of DC's under appreciated female characters this treatment . I am absolutely fascinated by Joan Garrick as a character. DC is not. But who am I to let that stop me.

So what are some things we know about Joan Garrick (née Williams). One is that she met Jay Garrick when they were both students at college. More potential context was given by Millar and Morrison in the iconic Jay focused Flash (vol 2) #134. Here we learn that at the present time she is teaching microbiology and based on the fact that in my experience a specific microbiology subject is more common in university and she's heading in for specific classes not the school day I can infer she is a lecturer/professor. These few facts paint a picture of an awesome and boundary breaking woman in her own right.

We can assume she was in college in the 1930s. This makes sense. After all the 30s was the first generation where (almost entirely white and middle class) women attended colleges in greater numbers and with more social acceptance then before. They became symbols of newfound female independence and education. But at the same time they faced a lot of obstacles , particularly in co-ed institutions like Midwestern University. She still had to navigate her way through a very male dominated institution that did not take her seriously if they wanted her to be there at all. Along with the change in female education came cultural backlash both within and outside the academy. Misogynistic (and racist) detractors viewed female higher education as frivolous, unsuitable for women's 'fragile physiology' and even saw it as the 'suicide' of the middle-class white American family. Yeah these people were the fucking worst. Anyway, being a female student at a university in that era meant dealing with and overcoming all kinds of bullshit from exclusion to outright harassment (even more than it does now).

And then there is the fact that she apparently studied biology (or microbiology more specially) in a time where most women pursued degrees in teaching or nursing (if they planned to use it vocationally) or liberal arts (if they did not). Women were actively discouraged from taking science courses and Joan would have been trying to enter an even more hostile boys club whilst fighting against even greater social pressure. But despite it all she seemingly did succeed and presumably help break barriers for women in science which is awesome.

And we can see this refusal to back down in her personality. Joan's kindness is matched by her tenacity and her 'do first, ask for permission later' personality, which whether forged through her experiences in academic or before-hand helped her persevere overcome the many obstacles she would have faced. She's an absolute badass.

Now this is not strictly relevant but she also knew Jay was the flash the whole time which is really sweet. I personally like to think she figured it out because he kept asking her really specific questions about human metabolism and the like (biology seemingly is Jay's scientific blindspot) and she put two and two together. Also he just innately trusts her with his secret which is cute considering how much secret identity drama silver age couples went through.

[illubean]

Sex Ed !

Characters: Satoru Gojo Type: NoCurse!AU, Oneshot, Gn!Reader? (will explain in warnings), NSFW reader discretion advised

i got the initial concept from this post by @reignpage and added my own twist ^^ also I'm lwky a little embarassed by this so uhh yeah..

Warnings: NSFW, might be considered monster fucking?, reader has alien anatomy and therefore has parts that resemble both female and male reproductive organs because it's my fanfic and I said so, Gojo a bit of a loser perv

Satoru Gojo never expected for a giant space rock to land in a forest trail near his home. He especially didn't expect to come across it on an evening stroll, only to realize that this thing wasn't a rock at all.

Curiously, Gojo climbed down into the crater created by the initial impact of the thing. Upon further inspection, it seemed to be some sort of metal pod, a large tinted window shielding him from seeing what could be inside.

Before he could step closer, the glass window popped open, teal smoke seeping from the inside as a person crawled out of it.

Wait, a person!?

As the smoke cleared and the figure stood to their feet, he noticed the faint glow emitting from your skin as well as the two, long antennas sprouting from your head. You were clad in tight garments that only really covered your private bits.

Your outfit didn't leave much to the imagination.

Gojo was slack jawed at the sight before him. There was a totally gorgeous otherworldly species standing mere feet from him on a random tuesday afternoon. This was a nerd's biggest dream!

Your large eyes blinked open as you took in your surroundings before your gaze landed on the snowy haired man nearby.

You blinked at him a few more times before your clueless gaze morphed into a wide smile.

"EARTH!"

Finally breaking out of his tranze at the sound of your voice, Gojo closed his mouth and straightened his posture.

"Umm yeah, this is Earth.."

Suddenly, you were far to close for comfort, nearly touching noses with the shocked man, studying every detail of his face.

"Human!" you say excitedly, poking a finger into his chest.

Stepping back, you bring your hands up to gesture to yourself.

"Me Y/n. From (insert fake planet name here)!"

It was obvious that your knowledge of human speech was limited. Gojo didn't really know what to do in this situation, thinking of ways to talk to you when his eyes landed back on your space pod ship thing.

"You can call me Toru. Maybe I can help fix your ship?"

Your body stiffened at the word "ship" before you took off to frantically search for a strong, sturdy object. After finding a sizable rock, you ran back towards the previously mention vehicle and raised your weapon of choice above your head, bringing it down to repeatedly smash the control panel.

Gojo watched in shock, confusion evident on his face while you dusted off your hands and turned back to face him.

"They track me and take me back," you explained, expression souring at the thought. "Me stay with Toru?"

Gojo didn't really know what he was getting himself into, but what he did know was that he couldn't deny you when you had such a sweet look on your face.

"Sure, I guess you could stay with me."

It's been months since Gojo met you. In that time, he attempted to teach you grammar and about different things that you had questions about. You were learning fairly quickly, but there were still times where you would slip up and use certain words incorrectly.

That's alright though, it makes you, you.

You spent most of your days lazing around Gojo's home, reading different food labels or the back of his video game cases while you awaited his return from work. Soon you began to grow bored, running out of things that piqued your curiosity in the finite space. Noticing this, Gojo decided to introduce you to something he might grow to regret later.

The internet.

Your white haired companion was oh so nice enough to write down the pin to his pc down for you, allowing you to use it however you wished while he was away.

Typically you played simple games like snake or scrolled through coolmath, occasionally searching for and downloading random images like "8 leg water creature" or "cool galaxy wallpaper".

But today, it seems Gojo forgot to close one of his tabs before leaving.

Twitter

With a curious gaze, you mindlessly clicked away, scrolling through random threads and looking through different tags. One thing led to another and you ended up under a specific tag which you had no clue what it meant.

NSFW.

While scrolling through, you were met with various different displays of the naked human body, some even of multiple humans interacting with each other in ways that were vaguely familiar, but still enough to fill your mind with questions.

At the familiar sound of Gojo's keys jiggling in the door knob, you bolted down the stairs and began dragging him up towards his room before he could even get a word in. Ignoring his questions and protests momentarily, you stop in front of his computer and point to the screen.

"What that?"

The man's eyes nearly popped out of his skull when he looked to the screen to see that you've managed to discover Twitter porn.

Quickly he shut off the monitor as you stared up at him with wide, curious eyes.

"Uhhh, that's nothing!"

"Tell meee," you whined, yanking on the sleeves of his hoodie and shaking him lightly, urging him to explain what you just saw.

"Well, when two people love each other very much-"

Never did Gojo ever think he would be giving someone the sex talk, let alone an alien that quite literally fell from the sky not too long ago. A very attractive alien, at that.

"And that's how babies are made. Some people just do it for fun though..."

Your face lights up at the word 'fun', immediately alerting Gojo.

Damn it, he shouldn't have mentioned that part.

"Let's do, Toru! Let's have sex!"

Satoru has never felt this embarassed before. He was sitting against the headboard of his bed, cheeks were dusted a shade of pink as he avoided looking at you, settled between his legs and staring at his crotch so intensely. And the worst part was, he was the only one naked.

What kind of ecchi shit is this!?

You watched in awe as his shaft began to stiffen under your gaze, looking at it from all different angles, fascinated by the human body. Grabbing his length, you moved it up and peeked under his balls as if looking for something.

"Only one hole?" you asked, taking your finger and tracing a line down from his balls to his asshole, gently prodding at the entrance.

He yelped at the sensation before swatting your hand away, finally looking down to meet your wide eyed, inquisitive gaze.

He huffed in embarrassment before muttering a response.

"What does that even mean? But yes, human men only have one hole.."

You got up from your position between Satoru's legs, shimmying off your shorts and shamelessly presenting your, now naked, lower half to him.

You sat back with your legs propped up and spread open, revealing something resemblant of a human vagina and a large, blue, tentacle like apendage mounted where the clit should be.

Satoru couldn't believe his eyes. You looked like a scene straight out of some pervy manga that he read on occasion; never did he think that it could be real.

"All my people have same parts. Male and female."

Satoru's boner quickly became painful, the lewd image of you sprawled out in front of him causing all his resolve to snap. Without a second thought, he grabbed you by the waist and flipped you on to your back, pushing your thighs to your chest and positioning himself at your entrance.

"You said you wanted to have sex, right? Then let's stop wasting time."

You yelped as he slammed balls deep into you, the slick sound of plap! plap! plap! punctuating every trust. Your juices coated his cock making it impossibly easy for him to reach all the way inside of you.

Letting out a string of whines, your large pupils were practically heart shaped while your skin began to glow a faint shade of blue.

You've never felt sensations like this before.

Satoru wasn't faring much better. A buzzing heat settled across every inch of his skin, balls growing impossibly tight upon feeling you. Not only your sloppy hole drooling around his cock, but your length wiggling between your bodies.

The appendage secreted a syrupy substance, the color matching that of your luminescent skin, which clung to the both of your tummies which created sticky strings that kept the two of you together. Satoru adjusts his position, letting your legs fall to his sides and wrapping his arms around your waist in order to pull your front flush to his. Without warning he kisses you, swallowing your mewls and relishing in the feeling of his lips on yours.

Despite not completely understanding what was going on, you accepted it, back arching up into him while your hands go to tangle themselves in his ivory locks.

"Fuucckk baby, feel good? 's your Toru making you feel good?" he asked, one hand coming up to grab your face as he looked deeply into your eyes.

"Mmfh, Toru! I...I feel...hot!"

The glow of your skin began to intensify and your whole being felt as if it were set ablaze. Satoru's cock caressed and kissed places you hadn't even known existed before, causing the coil inside of your core to tighten.

"Yeah? You feel hot right here?"

The large hand that was once gripping your cheeks was now resting beneath your belly button, applying minimal pressure that was still enough to evoke a loud moan from you. You nodded profusely in response to the man's question while his pace intensified.

Your senses were overwhelmed with pleasure, and not knowing what to do you wrapped your legs around Satoru and tightened your grip on his hair in response. A shiver runs down his spine and his hips stutter at the sensation. His bodyweight slumps into you, face burring itself into the crook of your neck. Your touch had him feeling weak.

With you tugging on his hair and the insane grip your other worldly pussy had on him, Satoru wouldn't be able to last much longer.

"Feel funny," you said, meekly. He felt your body stiffen underneath him, instinctually trying to clamp your legs shut around his hips.

"Relax for me," he cooed, planting soothing kisses up the side of your neck and underneath your jaw. "'ll take care of you, okay? Promise."

Trusting his word, you try relaxing back into the mattress while he continues to plow into you. Your mewls and moans began to increase in volume until your body reached its peek, juices gushing around Satoru's length while more spurted against both of your tummies.

Feeling your cunt practically weeping around him set Satoru over the edge, his own release mixing with yours and dripping to pool in the bedsheets underneath you when he pulled out.

Both of your spent bodies lied still, your blue glow settling into something more faint while the both of you panted.

"How was it?" Satoru asks you, suddenly feeling shy. You stayed silent, which alerted him. "...Y/n?"

Before he could sit up to check on you, with tremendous speed you picked up his lean body and slammed him onto the mattress underneath you. A wide smile was spread across your face while your energy buzzed with excitement. The poor guy was barely able to comprehend what happened before you spread his legs and positioned yourself in front of his puckered hole.

"Me turn!"

I am not confident in my smut skills at all bear w me...

[edwardteachswombtattoo]

The first three episodes of Season 2 are just one big Edward Teach character study. We spend so much time in his head (both literally and figuratively). We don't just see him looking completely exhausted, frustrated, and miserable throughout those first three episodes, we understand why he feels this way. And we understand this isn't just about his boyfriend leaving him. Stede is a contributing factor yeah, but he's not The Source. The inciting incident for Ed's trauma happened long before he even knew Stede existed. Ed is victimized by exterior forces throughout his childhood, develops unhealthy coping mechanisms, and falls directly into a lifestyle of piracy that further complicates his ability to form deep meaningful bonds with people. And Ed wants deep meaningful bonds with people! In the Gravy Basket, he expresses multiple times that wanting/needing to form deep emotional bonds with other people is something he recognizes about himself: his fear that no one is waiting for him up there, his belief that he is unlovable, his very simple list of reasons for living (warmth, good food, intercourse, and orgasms) which don't necessitate deep emotional bonds with other people, but are often made better with deep emotional bonds.

Yeah, Ed talking to the rabbit is very funny. But!! Ed literally just wants someone to talk to/connect with!! He wants to protect the person he cares about!!! He wants to be loved!!!

[shinynewboots]

Hazbin Hotel Characters as Medical Specialties

Charlie: Pediatrics

You're telling me can't imagine Charlie with Bluey stickers in her pocket and saying "oh I see a dog in your ear. Woof!" When using an otoscope on a child with an ear infection? Be so for real rn

Vaggie: Emergency Medicine

This woman thrives in chaos, she grew up on a battefield. The ED is the Wild West of medicine and Vaggie thrives under the constant stress and variety

Vaggie: "what do you mean you were woodworking while drinking, are you fucking stupid"

Vox: Nephrology

Okay, okay this one is less based in personality and more based in the fact that I need to see a pissing competition between Vox and Alastor (as a cardiologist) about fluid status and renal function

Vox: *decreases lasix dosage in a patient with poor renal function*

Alastor: *punches Vox bc that patient is also fluid overloaded and has heart failure with a reduced ejection fraction*

Velvette: Dermatology

Listen you can't tell me that she didn't have amazing skin when she was alive. I can see her moving more towards the cosmetic side of dermatology with occasional biopsy or Mohs bc who doesn't love a procedure every once in a while

Cherri: ICU/Crit Care

Like Vaggie, Cherrie also thrives in chaos and things in the ICU can go from 0 to 100 in less than a minute. I also feel like she would have pretty good empathy and separation of work and home to be able to not let the job get to her too much

Angel: Psych

This just feels perfect to me, more based on my own experience but everyone I've met in Psych is kind while also being the coolest person you've ever met. I also think Angel would really be able to empathize with his patients based on his own history with addiction. He really likes to listen and offer support and advice.

Alastor: Cardiothoracic surgeon or Cardiologist (to get into a pissing contest with Vox about fluid and sodium)

Look, I know Al is like the perfect surgeon. He's intimidating, meticulous, and calculating. And I don't disagree, I think he would thrive as a CT surgeon...however, there's just something about him arguing with the nephrologist that just gives me the giggles

Lucifer: Internal Medicine

Listen, he's done it all and seen it all. He will spend hours rounding because he just wants to make sure he gets everything right (he's also avoiding going home alone but that's a different story). He also loves working with medical students and will give rousing lectures on first-line antihypertensive and diabetes medications (while also getting all of the students and residents names wrong).

Lute: OBGYN

Listen, I love Lute but if I knew her in real life she would intimidate me so badly. Much like the OBGYN attendings I worked with. She's amazing at her job and beloved by her patients for her blunt yet realistic recommendations, but in her L&D room or operating room, that is her domain and there is no deviation from that. Medical students and residents should exercise caution, but she will teach them the most out of any rotation

Adam: Orthopedics

This man is an ortho bro if I've ever see one. He is the attending who will pimp medical students on the playlist he has playing in the OR instead of the surgery in front of them. (What do you mean you don't know what artist this is? It's the fucking Eagles. Go home and study up, we're playing Led Zepplin tomorrow.)

Niffty: Pathology

Listen I have no explanations for this one. It just felt perfect, tbh

Husk: Anesthesia

This man is like every anesthesiologist I've ever met. He is there stereotype and sits behind the current with his sudoku in hand. Don't let that fool you, this man has knowledge and skill and is not afraid to use. The second your patient starts de-sating or coding, he's the one you wanna listen to

Rosie: Family Medicine

Rosie is the picture-perfect family medicine attending. Kind, empathetic and offers great advice. From cradle to grave, she's got you covered with primary prevention and screening and will be there for you for whatever comes next

Lol this is meant in good fun, so there are a few stereotypes about the different specialties and a lot of it is based on my own experiences on rotations. Let me know what you guys think. I know I missed some characters so let me know if y'all want me to come up with more.

[rewritingcanon]

nextgen/hpcc characters going to an australian public high school:

rose: follows the social hierarchy to the tee and takes the shit from the year levels above her. but when she gets to year 12 she’s such a fucking menace to the years below her. and she gets her special year 12 amenities like access to the school microwave and toaster and kettle and she takes it very seriously that no one in the younger years can use it. if she had to wait so does everyone else. also she’s school captain and is the one always saying speeches at assembly and at athletics day. thinks she’s politically correct but then will turn around and tease scorpius for stuttering or sum.

albus: kinda unproblematic and keeps to himself but always gets bag checked and sent home for not wearing the right uniform (it’s always something so unserious like wearing a hoodie under his jacket or different socks). never used to actually lock his locker right and people immediately clocked that and stole his lock so its just unprotected. karl jenkins is always ransacking his locker so he barely has anything in it. wagged on formal and wouldve wagged on grad if he could. every time he walks through the school gates he gets swooped by a magpie.

teddy: choofs in the bathroom all the time, offers to share with anyone and everyone so all of the year 8s and 9s think he’s the coolest. only contributes in hums classes, dgaf about anything sciencey or mathy. chronic wagger. andromeda comes to his parent teacher interviews. got viral on tiktok once and people tried to clout chase him. a gazillion extracurriculars. pen ink all over his shirt. shit atar. has to do tafe after high school bc of it.

scorpius: the only one who didn’t fucking flop at specialist maths so the class’ mark didn’t get weighted up and so everyone whose ever shared a class with him hates his ass for it. when albus is absent scorpius tries to befriend whatever teacher is there on yard duty. you can catch his ass always at the canteen too buying the most outrageous shit for him and albus. he’s always got a fully stocked and well loved lunchbox, so its not for lack of care. constant victim of the eshays, once sat in the wrong spot and almost got bashed. school dux, but rose claimed valedictorian (she wasn’t happy).

craig: also definitely school captain, but he hatessss doing the speeches. just let him quietly organise the NAIDOC week activities in peace. studies in the library loads. unproblematic as hell, helps tutor year 10s in the library after school too. lowkey knew how to teach maths better than the maths teachers did, so they all liked him. wouldn’t let people copy off him so was kinda a stick in the mud for that. has beef with his year 10 english teacher who confiscated his beanie.

polly: she’s got a organiser in her locker and pictures of her friends put up everywhere inside. always cussing out the eshays and threatening to bash them. takes group costumes for athletics day way too serious and makes sure all her friends coordinate with her vision. absolutely slays the swimming carnival, her friends always are super annoying spectators on the side. super popular, always doing her makeup at the back of the class. did all the ATAR subjects but kinda flopped in it all. has secret beef with most of her teachers. chronic complainer, never thinks her shitty grades are her fault.

victoire: valedictorian of her year. prettiest girl in the school fr. played netball. knows all her friends and teachers birthdays and would always do the thing where she’d get a card and get everyone in her homegroup to sign it. has mostly everyone from school on snap. planned the yearbook, the year 11 formal, the grad afterparty, etc.

karl: lowkey an eshay but absolutely don’t say this to his face. his friendship with yann is like the only thing that is preventing him joining Those group of boys. only did outdoor ed for the camp. took a shit in the bathroom sinks during muck up day but no one could prove it was him. always goes to polly/rose/yann’s class during his frees to fuck around and usually gets kicked out for disrupting the class (“but Misssssss ☹️”). puts dollops of wet toilet paper in albus’ locker

yann: always the one filming school fights. starts rumours about people he’s irritated with, even his own friends. is best friends with the science teachers. is the one everyone goes to for gum. can dig up the most crazy info on teachers ever, someone give this guy a job in background checks. has been playing cricket since he was nine.

james: school captain but lowkey against his will. plays footy during lunch. had The Australian Mullet in year 8 but ginny threatened to shave him bald so it thankfully didnt last. gets invited to a gazillion house parties but stands most of them up to be at home and just nap. people always try to start beef with him for popularity but they always later find out that james dgaf at alllll. doesnt care for listening to music but doesnt want people approaching him so he’ll plug his airpods in and listen to the abc on the way to school/during lazy classes pretending he’s normal and listening to hozier or some bull. trauma bonded with his lote class.

lily: got suspended for bashing someone in the stairwell for calling albus a slur. plays footy and netball and highkey is better than most of the boys that play. planted a tree in the toilets one day. spends all her frees shopping out of school. buys herself heaps of ramen and forces james to use his year 12 privilege and cook it for her. has an electric scooter and is so irritating about it. actually really gafs about afl season and barracks for geelong (simply because she likes cats, and it just stuck). always getting moved in class because she yaps too much and too loud.

dominique: is always bashing someone and getting filmed (probs by yann). no one really learns she’s victoire’s little sister because they are soooo different in looks and personality. always going to school high as a kite. got sent home on muck up day for egging the principal and almost got kicked out of the grad ceremony. known as The Only Lesbian in school (she’s bisexual).

delphi: moved from getting homeschooled. does folio subjects. plays devil’s advocate in history class. never ever wearing school uniform but she’s too difficult to deal with so the teachers just leave her alone (also none of the office ladies want to call euphemia rowle 😭). spends most of her time at wellbeing. would sell empty vapes to year 7s in the girls bathrooms. that mf who tries to befriend the spiders 💀 and she’d throw them in people’s hair

hugo: used to be pressured by his mum to study for naplan so was waiting until he could be set free in year 10 (he doesnt have to do naplan anymore but he does have six assignments due tomorrow). he and rose were definitely kumon kids. always late to homegroup. the drama teacher loves him. got recorded bashing some older guy at a train station because the guy stepped in his hsp and then became a meme around school for a month or two. acts like he dgaf but will go home and cry over his grades in his room.

[allegraforchrist]

Op-Ed #1

Why the Bible Should Be Reinstated as a Subject in Schools 

By Zoë Scott

Youth culture is experiencing a modern ethical decline characterized by race-based narcissism, the growing acceptance of platforms like OnlyFans among young women aged 18 to 44, and aggressive advocacy for minor transgender-affirming care on TikTok; these trends raise concerns about the absence of moral boundaries regarding children, autonomy, and identity.

We cannot pinpoint when the decline in social morality and dignity began, or conclude its normalization. Factors like unsupervised internet access, administrative failures in 2020, and unilateral diversity efforts likely contributed to the present educatory decline, distorted social norms, and equating of 'micro-labels' to self-determination.

A notable example of a breeding ground for social contagions and negative influences is modern schools.

School has been the cultural and foundational experience necessary for the adolescent development of character, intelligence, and independence. Parents rely on this environment, as an extension of caring for their child's cognizant well-being, to promote focused development and responsibility in social skills, academics, and future aspirations. 

However, we now observe a pattern of deception within education. The educational system has shifted from nurturing skills and protecting knowledge integrity to openly discussing various ideologies and unconventional sexual education, often without adequate parental permission or awareness.

This deception reveals the modern shift from traditional support structures, like church and family, towards external counsel and the disregard for professional boundaries and parental rights - resulting in unhealthy affinities between students and the school's authority and independence. 

We recognize the significance of orthodox school subjects and their teachers, but we also question how moral issues and inappropriate social trends are addressed within the academic context. In response, I propose reinstating the Bible as a subject in schools.  

Religion examines the concepts of right and wrong, fact and fallacy, nature versus nurture, truth versus emotion, and purpose versus plan. The Bible serves as a well-known source for exploring these ideas and issues.

Through the Bible, students can discern between the wisdom of Proverbs and self-help, contextualize the sociology of Leviticus with social movements, compare Tanakh/Torah laws to modern legislation, and explore ecclesiastical poetry in Job and Ecclesiastes. Students will also strengthen their reading, grammar, and speaking skills by examining the differences between the Bible's King James and our Standard English. 

From Genesis to Revelation, the Bible contrasts moral dilemmas and relatable life lessons through stories, testimonies, psalms, and verses. 

Teaching the Bible offers contemporary, endurable, mature solutions to modern problems. The Bible can guide our youth toward modesty, thoughtfulness, and healthy choices in friendships, family, health, sexuality, and self-awareness. These teachings can support their growth and help them navigate their social development into adulthood.

During their formative years, students are highly impressionable. Combining age-appropriate sociology with biblical studies will equip our youth with the moral compass to navigate their exposure to inappropriate deportments often encouraged on social and public platforms. The Bible's objectivity will enable both teachers and students, adults and children, influencers and influenced, to investigate their biases, behavior, thinking patterns, and authority more critically and carefully. 

While the Bible also contains violent and graphic themes; such studies can be reserved for high school students (grades 9-12) with sufficient critical thinking skills and can confidently interpret complex narrations of rape, death, and war within their historical context and confront the uncomfortable realities paralleled in their present day. 

Many people will disapprove of teaching the Bible as a subject in schools. They argue it could be biased and infringe upon their First Amendment, potentially deny other religions their space and expression, or reinforce misconstrues and negative attitudes toward specific communities.

This proposal outlines an elective course for students supervised by a subject expert focused on the Bible. The aim is to explore the positive effects of biblical values on families, communities, education, politics, language, media, and personalities while promoting diverse religious perspectives, critical thinking, and appropriate repudiates.

The Bible reaffirms the mastery of our creation and the power of free will when driven by the virtues of patience, goodness, kindness, gentleness, self-control, and peace. Reaffirming these virtues and honorable life skills will transform the next generation's perspectives on social norms, identity, and governance. 

Dismantling this destructive culture of self-determination and self-gratification, with biblical guidance, will rebalance the dynamics of acceptance and adolescence, and recalibrate the positive power our youth will channel into future ambitions, environments, and civics. 

References and Sources:

The Bible & Public School’s, a First Amendment Guide ; National Bible Association and First Amendment Center; 1999

 Buchholz, Katharina. “Political polarization Relatively Strong in the US”.  Statista. November 6th, 2024.

Ceci, Laura.  “Number of OnlyFans creator accounts worldwide from July 2021 to February 2025”. Statista. March 7th, 2025. 

Texas School for the Deaf (TSD Texas). “The Dangers of Underage Students Using OnlyFans”. Texas.gov. September 12, 2024.

Rivera, Emily. “AI Boyfriends, Virtual Girlfriends, and the Future of Digital Love – Are We Really Dating Robots Now?”. Woke Waves. February 4th, 2025. 

 LCSW, Morin, Amy.  “From Cyberbullying to Depression, These Things Affect Teenagers Today”. Parents.com. January 7th, 2025. 

YouVersion. The Holy Bible (NKJV). 

 Oxford. Oxford English Dictionary.

[fareehaandspaniards]

☆ ♥ ♒ ൠ for any character(s) you wish!! total free card to talk about the guys you like))

woohoo thanks!!

The ask game itself

☆ - happy headcanon for Edgar

Edgar's happiest time was when he was about 13 years old. He wasn't too mature to worry about adult matters (plus, Yurie didn't allow him to know in detail what was going on around him), but he was big enough to start walking around on his own. The Choir had just started its existing back then, and was led by a small group of scholars who were intent on raising children of the Orphanage by their own rules. Edgar was one of those orphans, but to his luck Yurie, one of the first scholars there, was watching his studies without allowing Choir to brainwash him. He was surrounded by the attention of Yurie and Fauxsefka (the latter was not too excited for keeping an eye on him), and they gave him both knowledge and nurturing. He also often hang out with Gremia, who suffered from a progressive depression, but found an outlet in the boy's company and trained him physically. Thus, Edgar was surrounded by the attention of several people at once. He felt protected and loved, remembering only the good things from his youth - how awful Yurie had tried baking, how Gremia had changed into Choir clothes to meet Ed, how he himself had tried to practice poetry. Somehow the ongoing and progressing horrors did not affect him, though not for long at all. Perhaps the Great Ones just favor children <3

♥ - family headcanon for Rom

Rom's family, her father for the most part, often invited Willem to his manor who was then about 40 years old. Willem hadn't even taken over as Master of Byrgenwerth yet, but was one of the professors and taught history, additionally teaching courses on cryptology for those interested. Although Rom's mother was against the girl talking to the guest, Willem found it amusing that the child was in a hurry to tell him about what she had seen on the street, about the insects she had examined with a magnifying glass, and about all her worries. The girl was memorable to him, so when he saw her name on the Byrgenwerth admission list, Rom was accepted immadiately, though she herself did not remember meeting Willem, and her family had died to that moment. Willem was always watching her and she was always watching him. Before Rom could ascend Willem was like a father to her

♒ - cooking/food headcanon for Gehrman (+Laurence/Rom)

Laurence and Rom are both awful at cooking. And at housework! But Laurence really wanted to create a family as he saw it - Traditional. Where the mother bakes pies and waits with the child for the father to come home from work, and then they discuss the day's events over dinner. And everybody's happy. But in the end, there was something going on between them all the time:

And Rom made it clear that she wasn't interested in running the household, besides, they were both too busy to live a simple life. So Laurence ate what Yharnam's cooks prepared for the Church, and Rom ate Caryll's food. But being rather selective eaters, their greatest pleasure was to meet in Gehrman's workshop, not far from which was also his house. Gehrman cooked for everyone who visited him informally. Recipes inherited from his father and his branch of the family, used by his mother many times, passed down to Gehrman and he mastered them to the best of his ability. His meals were mostly meat, as a hunter must keep in shape and have plenty of strength, but sometimes he cooked something special f.e. lemon cream cakes or well seasoned vegetable salads (which are quite expensive in Yharnam)

ൠ - random headcanon for Adeline

Despite being a noble lady, Adeline's language is something even a hunter might envy! I mean, she's quite skilled at swearing xD She was unintentionally taught it by her father, who was among Gehrman's first hunters. So at times Maria was horrified at the way her friend expressed herself. In her later years, Adeline started using swear words more often in an attempt to relieve stress and express pain, but by mutating, her personality returned to its past state and she remained a lady for the rest of her days.

She's also a gossip girl! While she was a Blood Saint, back before the Research Hall, she liked to attend at preaching to watch people and then discuss them with Maria. She was most interested in handsome men, but she would also eavesdrop on the inner affairs of the Church, trying to catch some interesting information among the whispers.

[tokusho]

TF141+Vaqueros as Elementary School Teachers AU

Characters involved: John Price, Kyle “Gaz” Garrick, Johnny “Soap” Mactavish, Simon “Ghost” Riley, Alejandro Vargas, Rodolfo “Rudy” Parra

Warnings: One mention of bullying

WC: 1.3k

Notes: Irl I actually work for an elementary school and this is how I feel the soldiers would be as teachers and what they’d teach. In this AU they’ve never been soldiers. I do have plans for Farah, Alex, Nikolai, and Graves in this au. I may make this into an actual fanfic if there is enough interest.

Ghost-Kindergarten

Ghost is a veteran teacher coming in the second year of the school's opening. Knowing that students are snotty and don’t cover their mouths when they cough so he wears a face mask around them. Despite his large frame and the dark clothes, his kids flock to him. They love to sit on his lap during story time and cuddle against him during nap time. His dry sense of humor along with his natural leadership kindergarteners become comfortable and confident at the start of their school life. He is deeply protective of his class seeing them as still young and innocent. If he catches any older student picking on one of his kids he’ll come up behind them without a sound like a ghost escorting them to the principal's office. His children affectionately call him Mr.Riley but the other kids who were never in his class call him Ghost due to his more closed off personality and strictness with the higher grades. Ghosts classroom is filled with bright colors and mats in the corner ready for nap time right after lunch.

Price- 1st and 2nd Grade Special Ed

Price has been in the school ever since it has opened along with Alejandro. He knows every staff member and does his best to learn and remember every student's names in the school. His calloused hands hold his kids small hands through the halls making sure they don’t run off and get lost or hurt. His steady and sure personality helps with his little ones having tough times, getting overstimulated, or dealing with big emotions that they don’t know how to deal with. He's able to read situations and his students quickly knowing what to do and how to help. He joins in with his students doing their breaks with little dances, holding their hands and shimmying with them encouraging their playfulness while keeping an eye out for any potential problems. From the years of working at the school he has learned that he needs to either bend or break the rules to get proper accommodations to help his children whether it be ipads for nonverbal students, earmuffs, etc he’ll do anything to make sure his kids are happy. His classroom is set up practically and a little more sparsely than the other classrooms, not because there isn’t a lot of things its more that its organized so his students know where things go throughout the day.

Soap- 2nd Grade

Soap is one of the newer teachers still with enough energy to keep up with the students. He’s the joker, out of every other teacher he’s able to make any student laugh the loudest. He goes all in for each student making sure to hear their laugh at least once a day from doing dad jokes from falling on his face. He makes sure his students are learning but he doesn’t want his students' brains to melt from studying too much so he participates in brain breaks with them such as doing dance battles or even simon says. He affectionately calls his kids lads and lasses, in his eyes they can do no wrong so he redirects them and talks to them about what's wrong, unless if there was a case of hitting or bullying. When one of his kids gets a warhawk to look just like him he almost cries tears of joy ready to sweep the kid up in a massive hug. His room consists of big desks where the students can sit at a table with a large amount of space in the back with a rug for brain breaks and library time with his students.

Kyle- 3rd Grade

Kyle is one of the newer teachers like Soap but he knows for third grade they don’t need that overwhelming energy anymore. His presence is calming and positive for his students making them feel more relaxed compared to other classes. He wants his classroom to be a safe place for his students, to feel at ease while learning. In the eyes of the students (specifically his students) he is the calmest teacher at the school. He cares for each one of his students and if he sees one of them not being their usual self he’ll subtly pull his student out of the class to make sure everything is alright. As he walks through the halls, is doing lunch duty, or playground duty he is being constantly tackled by children wanting a hug or having other little kids wanting to show him something cool they found. He softly chuckles and hugs each student giving them a pat on the head despite knowing most likely he's going to get sick from them hugging him all the time. His room is very cozy, never using the harsh overhead lights but with many lamps with warm lights along with a variety of different places his students can sit to read or just to relax.

Alejandro-4th Grade Math and Science

Alejandro started teaching along with Price at the beginning of the school's opening. He is extremely proud of each and every class that has ever passed through having his class. Alejandro and Rodolfo share a class of 40, 20 in each class so the students can get used to switching classes for middle school. He calls his students his “pequeño

vaqueros y vaqueras” (his small cowboys and cowgirls). He believes that his students are the absolute best out of any other class in the whole school always talking and showing off his amazing students. He is willing to go to any lengths to help a student who is confused wanting for his students to unlock their full potentials. He is by far the loudest teacher in the school whether it be his normal talking voice, laughing at an awful joke, or yelling at a student trying to throw food at someone in the cafeteria. He believes in punishment for those who have been wronged whether it be a student being picked on or a horrible rumor. He’s the voice for the students willing to do anything to get proper accommodations just like Price, even if it means going against the higher ups. His room is a little less decorated than the others since he and rodolfo is prepping the students for middle school. The desks are in a half circle with big pieces of paper on the wall with big writing showing off math equations or science they are currently learning.

Rodolfo-4th grade Reading, Writing, and History

Rodlfo joined the school a year after John and Alejandro. Just like Alejandro he is extremely proud of each student and calls them his “príncipes y princesas” (princes and princesses). He and Kyle are some of the most hugged teachers in the school. He teaches his kids the curriculum along with some extra fairy tales if they finish their work before the class ends. On special days if his students have been behaving he lets them watch movies of the books they are reading. Whether summer or winter he is usually wearing his gray sweatshirt which is how his students identify him in the school. He is one of the kindest and laid back teachers in the school only beaten by Kyle. His students like to spend their lunches and sometimes even recesses in his room. A lot of students ask him and Alejandro if they are siblings, although at first they saw it as cute but after being constantly asked by every student, they made matching shirts that say “we’re not brothers”. Rodolfos class has many books along with desks paired in twos for group work. There is a big desk in the back so he can have small groups talking about books they are reading, stories they are writing, or specific parts of history they are learning.