#AND today is the one class we have where the teacher insists on us not being late 😭😭😭

[sunjoys]

i desperately need to get my watch fixed i have no sense of time without it and it is fucking me over

[nyx-is-missing]

Graceland too

Clarisse la rue x fem!reader (Athena's kid)

Sumarry: When a certain daughter of Athena felt unappreciated her whole life, someone was there to see her.

Warnings: Sad girl hours, shitty parenthood, hurt/comfort because im no monster and probably other things wich i forgot.

a/n: look who is back!

Demigod.

Half blood.

Half a goddess.

Half a human (?).

And yet, fully a disappointment.

When Athena sent me to my Dad's house, in a golden crib, dressed in pure white dress, glowing, how the myths would expect a demigod to be, then, and only right then i was a gift.

A piece o divine love, something to prove to him, till the end of his life, that at some point, he was good enough for a Goddess.

But days after, immediately, i was just a crying baby, hungry, with a busy father, without a mother, and that only made him remember that, that was it.

He wasnt good enough for her, she wasnt staying, she never even actually even considered, he would never have that kind of honour, only a crying baby he never expected.

I wasnt a gift anymore, it actually felt like i was a insult, everything about me started to enrage him.

And oh, how did he reminded me of that every single day of my existence.

When i got diagnosed with dyslexia all i've heard whas that Athena gave me up to him because i was defective, when i couldnt sit still during classes, and exploded with all the repression i suffered everyday, suddently i was a clock bomb, when my grades where great, i was never rewarded, it was "the least i could do, to make up for the shame that i was".

I was never loved, never wanted, never encouraged, at least not by him.

The very little love i've known in my life, i own to the people who felt pitty of me.

The teachers, the neighbours who have heard the insults, the stray animals who could sense sadness, the very old grandparents who never actually saw me more than twice a year, and the people who worked at a nerby library, who let me stay past closing time, leaving only with the cleaners.

I was 12 when he had enough and sent me to camp, literally the very day school was over.

I came home to my clothes packed and him waiting by the car keys.

Being in camp for the first time, was also the very first time in my life i have ever felt....normal.

Not good, not bad, not great, not terrible, i was one, and that was enough.

I spend that summer being quiet, i sat in the corner, i didnt spoke, i didnt interrupted, i didnt had any ideas, i wasnt good enough to do that, thats what i've been told my whole life, thats my true.

It took a whole new summer for Athena to claim me.

I have always wondered if she was fighting with herself, if she had any problems having to admit that she made a mistake, with me, or with him.

It didn't matter, for the first time i had brothers and sisters, who wanted me, who understood when i wasnt the best, who asked for my graded tests, to put up in the wall.

They understood when i was hard to crack, when i insisted in being quiet, when i wouldnt share my ideas, they understood it all.

I didn't.

Each and every new summer i spent there, all i could ask myself was:

Why could i not be great like all of them?

Why im still afraid?

Why i was still useless?

Im now sixteen and the same questions still were unanswered.

And today i felt worse than ever.

It was my birthday, and i havent got a single letter from him, nothing, nothing.

It felt like he was saying i wasnt worth anything again.

Earlier, i tried to pretend nothing was happening, smiling with my siblings, finally making plans for capture the flag, finally belonging like i promissed i would try to do that year.

My plan was used, it wasnt perfect, but it was used, and surprising myself and the other team, we won.

I could see the other team confused, and Clarisse cussing us to death.

Still i was so happy, for the first time in my life i showed myself, and i worked....partially.

The happiness of victory didnt last much in me, because i saw a new brother of mine almost bursting to tears, he was young and just got claimed a few days ago, he wasnt used to that, and he wasnt supose to get hurt, but the red that painted his arms said otherwise.

I couldnt stare at him without feeling like i failed again.

Why couldnt i be perfect for once?

I took him to infirmary and held his hand while he was getting his stiches, saying sorry all the time.

I tried thinking it was okay, people get hurt, move on.

I had diner, i took a bath, i tried to sleep, i couldnt.

The tears were falling down and i knew i wouldn't be quiet.

So i got up and walked to the cabin's porch, sitting on the last step and letting my head fall to my knees.

Why couldnt i be great?

Why couldnt i be in peace with myself?

Why couldnt my mom bless me?

Why couldnt my dad love me?

Why did he had to be so mean?

I was a kid for fucks sake.

"Are you okay?" I heard someone saying, that made me freeze, that voice was not from any of my sisters, was i crying so hard i woke up someone from other cabin?

"I- yes, sorry i didn't knew i was crying so hard to wake people from other cabins, im sorry"

"You didn't, i was sneaking out to train some more, and saw you, our cabins face each other"

That was...Clarisse?

I wiped my tears and look up, she was staring at me with a almost worried look

"Clarisse?"

"Yes, why are you crying?"

She sat down by my side, dropping a sword in the grass.

"Its nothing really, im fine, you dont need to bothe-"

"No, cut the crap" she stopped me mid sentence "no one ever weeps in the middle of the night out of happiness, you are not fine and im not letting you lie OR leave until you tell me what it is"

We stare at each other, and ill need to thank the night light being bad because i probably look like crap right now, im sure my eyes are red, my nose too, im probably with a very swollen face and id bet all the dracmas i own that my hair its no better than a nest of birds.

"Go on...tell me"

I layed myself in the stairs, looking at the sky, trying to think of a way to tell everything, without sounding crazy

"I dont deserve to be here, Clarisse."

"Here..where?"

"This cabin, i dont deserve to be called daughter of the goddess of wisdom, i dont deserve being here with them, my siblings they are great, more than good, great, they will do great things with themselfs, amazing writers, architects, brilliant musicians, historians, why am i here? Im not even good, why im with the great?"

"Wait wait wait" she made me sit down again and look at her "not even good? What are you talking about? Wasnt the strategy in the last capture the flag yours? Yall won, and if somebody asks me later i've never said this but that was good, some really good strategy, i was almost thinking of asking chiron to switch you teams, you were great, more than that, and now you're here telling me you are not egen good? Are you on drugs?"

"Clarisse you dont need to pretend you care that much, and my plan wasnt all that, my brother got hurt, that wasnt supose to happen, i failed him, if i was good enough he wouldnt even be there"

She had a very confused look on her face, like she really did not knew what i was talking about.

"You're not talking about the little boy you took to the infirmary and that small cut in his forearm are you? Cause that boy was far from almost dying like you are making it sound like-" she looked at my eyes, i didnt needed a mirror to have sure how i was, i've seen myself like that too much to count, everytime my dad said i wasnt good enough, sad, lifeless.

"I failed again Clarisse, im not good enough to be here, im useless, worthless"

She looked at me and did the last thing i tought she would, Clarisse hugged me.

"Dont say that, c'mon, worthless? I've seen you fight, i've seen your plans, you dont talk much but i've heard your ideas, you are far from being useless or worthless, who the fuck told you that?"

"My f- you heard me?" I looked at her, only to see a look i couldnt distinguish "what do you mean?"

She looked at her own feet, then at her sword, reflecting the moonlight.

"You really dont know?" She looks at me "i- well, i've heard you, the same way i see you everyday, thats how i know you like morning walks, sweet green grapes, baked goods...how i know you are probably the only child of Athena who has never read "the art of war", that you walk without looking at peoples faces....its weird, i've seen you so much throughout this years and it feels like this is the first time you are actually seeing me"

"But i've saw you before-"

"Thats not what i was saying, you looked at me many times, but did you ever saw me until today?"

I looked at her blinking, and after a moment of silent i said "you like dark chocolate, and lemon flavoured soda, and sneaking out to train when the harpies take their breaks, by the way you missed that, and you always ask for double the quantity of food you eat, so when you burn it you still can eat enough, by the way i stole that idea-"

She is smilling, big, really big, i think i am too.

Of course i saw Clarisse, who wouldnt, she was strong, brave, beautiful, to me was a wonder she didnt had people running to get her attention.

She got closer to me "does that mean i can-" i stopped her mid sentence again

"Maybe..."

"Im going to make you forget that "im not good enough" nonsense, belive me"

She is smilling while kissing me, and i am too.

[lordgrimoire]

The Amity Parkers

Inspired by This Post, which is long, read the many reblogs and tags and comments, it’s fun!

Tim was Ninety Percent Sure that he was going absolutely insane, granted it was a long time coming. Danny Fenton, his Chemistry teacher and Dash Baxter, his Phys Ed teacher? That was two people from the same practically non-existent town in Illinois, but add onto that the fact that even MORE people kept showing up in Gotham from sleepy little Amity Park and proceeded to either A:Thrive or B:Thrive but with the Energy of a Kryptonian having nonstop contact highs.

After his two teachers, or more accuratly before, there had been Jazz Fenton, a new Psychiatrist working in Gotham and making rather noticeable strides in things. Then arrived her brother and Baxter, who had applied roughly at the same time in the aftermath of a Rogue attack on the cities water treatment plant, and the floodgates seemed to less open more fly off the hinges as though breaching charges had been used. 

Now there were MORE people here, there was Tucker Foley, working at Wayne Enterprises as a coder and a damn terrifying one to boot, Sam Manson, an activist who ended up throwing Tim during one of his Red Robin patrols where he’d come across her “Protest Site” which had been a small park in The Narrows. Wes Weston, a cop, had been giving his coworkers and his Chem teacher NOTHING but grief, insisting that Fenton was doing “Something” wrong but never quite being able to get things to stick, upon further digging this had been a long running one sided rivalry. There was also a SECOND Psychiatrist, Paulina Sanchez, at Gotham Academy who was also from Amity Park, and her files were airtight, as Damian’s most recent hacking attempt and Tim’s own follow up had failed to breach her firewalls.

So, here Tim was, staring at Danielle “Dani/Ellie” Masters, Dr. Fenton’s CLONE and the Academies newest but also most feral teacher as she boxed the Joker hard enough for an audible crack to be heard from their classroom from where she was fighting the demented clown on the field. Baxter was still running his class as normal, though a bit further away, and Dr. Fenton was still teaching their class, while Tim was trying to get Extra Credit and vengeance on the Doctor through today’s extra credit task, making a tracker that could track Doctor Fenton for Twenty Four Hours. 

Why was he seeking vengeance you ask? Well given the fact that Jason brought Doctor Fenton to Family Dinner last week [with Alfred’s blessing] and had come in with the most gremlin-esque energy he’d seen from a Non-Rogue. Now don’t get Tim wrong, he likes Doctor Fenton, he may be demented as all get out but he was regularly making counters to drugs and toxins that seemed to just inhabit Gotham. BUT! Doctor Fenton and Jason had been so sickeningly cutes-y with each other at Dinner, like a couple of Birds of Paradise trying to one up each other.

Then of course was the “Story Time” where the two had teamed up to tell embarrassing stories, though Danny held back, a touch. It didn’t absolve him, especially with how he egged on Jason, which very much didn’t help the whole “I know you’re the Bats” situation. AND THEN! There was the fact that a majority of the Amity Parkers KNEW that they were the Bats, It was as though they had gone through this whole song and dance before, which given prior statements of Doctor Fenton having “Hung up the Cape” seemed to imply he used to be a hero in Amity Park, where your average joe could one on one a rank and file leaguer or at least give them a rough time.

The fact that a semester of training from Baxter and Fenton alone had made Tim’s year group capable of facing off with the JL  was a testament to that.

Speaking of which, some Junior Leaguers were coming to Gotham, if only for a place where they were not as “Strange”. Some of those moves may have been encouraged with the recent custody battle between Luthor against Vlad and Danielle Masters regarding Connor, who was a Copyrighted clone as it turns out, which had resulted  in Connor being made a ward of Danielle Masters, who had chewed Superman out HARD along with her Original, Doctor Danny Fenton himself.

Suffice to say, Clark did NOT get majority of Custody, and only got every third weekend, which was terrifying in Tim’s opinion that this small town mayor who was as wealthy as Luthor, had turned up, legally thrashed Luthor, and then given custody over to his daughter, thrashed SUPERMAN with KRYPTONIAN LAWS, and then gone back to Amity Park Illinois to resume his Mayor-ship there. The fact the town was essentially a self governing and self sufficient region  meant that the League was now VERY AWARE of it, and the fact that the League of Assassins had tried and FAILED multiple times to infiltrate the town, with more people going rogue than staying loyal, with only one out of nearly two hundred assassins returning to Nanda Parabat, critically wounded and very much insane.

In Tim’s opinion? Amity Park raised people similar too but far more prepared than Gothamites, for while Gothamites may have the Fight in their bones, Amity Parkers seem ready to back it up with experience, training, and life experience. 

But then again, Mr. Lancer had been an immigrant to Amity Park, and he was the blueprint of sorts for all of his students who had gone into teaching, much the same for how Batman was the Blueprint for all the other Bats.

____________________________________________

Tagging some Folks included in the Masterpost

@plotwholls @welcometosasakiworld @bonebrokebuddy @transsunmoonwizzard @omnicrafts @vala-dreams @fox-sama97 @tired-mom @kyrianclawraith @americano-psycho @mikami1992 @thecatchat @stealingyourbones @mutable-manifestation @britcision @dxrksong @kawaiikenna @mrowsters @the-gay-florist @thatgaydemigodnerd @0satellite0 @afanofmanyships @pencil-for-a-dog @any-mouse

[s-ublimewrites]

writing sonnets (melissa schemmenti x f!reader)

synopsis: your students tease you relentlessly and melissa can't help but to join in

words: ~1.4k

warnings: none i think? wholesome borderline crack

note: im not sure i ever actually gender the reader here? but f!reader to cover my own ass<3

Don’t get it twisted - you love the inquisitive nature of your students, you really do. It’s something every eighth grade English teacher longs for. But your fourth period class has a certain knack for getting you off topic with their curiosity. On this particular day - a Friday, so blissfully close to freedom - you have relinquished all control and let them fall down the rabbit hole of fanfiction, of all things. Leave it to middle schoolers. 

They had only been learning about first, second, and third person narration - so innocuous, you didn’t see how you could possibly be derailed. Maybe you’d make it through the lesson, and you could relish in the four minutes of silence you get between periods, and-

“Where is second person narration used?” Angel doesn’t bother raising his hand, and you don’t bother admonishing him.  

You think briefly. “Honestly, not many pieces of published works use it - not that I’ve seen, anyway. We don’t talk about it much. I’ve really only seen the second person used in one place.”

You intend to leave it at that, but of course, Angel pushes. 

“Where?” he asks. 

In the second you use to inhale before tackling the question, Kennedy takes the liberty of answering: “Fanfiction, duh. That self-insert stuff.”

You can’t help it - a laugh bubbles out, and this is the moment everything begins to spiral. 

“Yeah,” you collapse into your desk chair, “Kennedy’s right. Fanfiction.”

Kennedy takes the opportunity - it’s been presented to her on a silver platter, really. “You know about fanfiction, Y/L/N?” 

“Sweetheart, my generation invented fanfiction. And I’m a writer. This was my game before you were even born.”

Angel is on his feet, his hands slamming on his desk and his voice rising with excitement, “WHERE CAN WE READ YOUR FANFICTION?” 

“Oh, my God, no. You can’t. It’s not on the internet or anything, I’d just, like… send it to my friends, or whatever,” you insist, hands coming to cover your red face as you laugh. 

The class, buzzing with chatter and giggles, continues to harass you. “So, what, Ms Schemmenti reads your fanfiction?”

Your hands are still covering your face. “No, Ms Schemmenti most certainly does not!”

“That’s because the fanfiction is about Ms Schemmenti. Y’all see how Y/L/N be looking at her in the halls,” someone says, and several others voice their agreement. 

“She’s down bad for real.”

“What?!” your head snaps up, eyes searching for whoever made the comment. The bell rings before you can get your answer. “Get out of my room, you absolute little monsters. Have a good weekend, please read chapter th- oh, okay, you’re gone. Cool. Awesome.” 

You look at the camera. It zooms in on your red, deadpan face. You drop your forehead onto the desk. 

-

When you walk into the lounge at the end of the day, you slump into the chair beside Janine, who’s engaged in a conversation about a scrabble tournament (sober scrabble - boring) with Jacob and Gregory. Barbara listens, not contributing, surely stockpiling the information so she can tell Melissa later. Melissa, who is thankfully not in the room at the moment. You think you would burst into flames. 

Janine halts her conversation about triple word scores when you throw yourself down into the chair by her. 

“Rough day?” Janine asks tentatively. 

“Long. The kids were focused on literally anything other than The Outsiders.” 

Janine nods. “I get it. Fridays, y’know? It’s always hard to keep them on task.” 

“Well, Y/N,” Jacob starts with a smirk, “my students were actually pretty interested in the topics of your class today. It’s all they could talk about when they sat down for seventh period.” 

You glare at him hard and warn, “Jacob. Do not.” 

Janine looks back and forth between you both and turns to Gregory. “Is there something I’m missing?”

“No,” you say sternly. Your eyes don’t leave Jacob’s shit-eating grin. “Not a thing.”

Jacob, it seems, has exceptionally few survival instincts and carries on giddily, “Y/N’s students found out she writes fanfiction-“

And, oh, good, Barbara is listening now, too. “Fan-fiction?” 

“Why is everyone saying that word today? It’s all I’ve been hearing in the halls since, like, fourth period.” Melissa asks, striding into the break room and taking the seat next to you. 

“I’m going to have to transfer schools,” you say, closing your eyes. 

Melissa pays this no mind. “All the older kids keep looking at me, too. It’s weird.”

You glare daggers at Jacob, whose face must hurt from the width of his smile. 

“So weird!” Jacob says innocently. 

Melissa narrows her eyes. 

“Why are you being weird? And not normal Jacob weird,” she questions, turning to you. “Why is he being weird?”

You slam your boot into Jacob’s shin under the table. “He’s not. No one’s being weird.” 

Melissa’s eyes flick back and forth between the two of you suspiciously. “Okay, someone tell me right now - what the hell is a fanfiction, and what does it have to do with me? And, apparently, Y/N?”

“Melissa, I am so glad you’ve asked, allow me to explain-“ Jacob starts, leaning across the table toward Melissa. 

“Oh my God,” you cut him off. Time to swallow your pride. 

You explain the situation… sort of. You explain in a watered-down way that incriminates you less. 

“So, yeah, they found out, and because I said ‘friend’ they connected it to you, and they misconstrued the whole thing, and it’s literally not a big deal-“ you're rambling and she knows it. 

“Wait,” Gregory stops you, “so this is why I heard Angel say ‘Y/L/N be writing sonnets about that red hair’ during lunch?”

Janine raises her eyebrows. “‘Sonnet?’ Pretty good vocab word.”

“Thank you, Janine! And thank you for focusing on the important part of the matter at hand: my impeccable teaching skills.” 

“So,” Barbara chimes in, “do you or do you not write these little stories about Melissa?”

“Barbara!” You’re mortified. “No! I do not!”

At long last, Melissa speaks. You don’t need to look at her to know there’s a smirk on her lips. “She doesn’t need to. Clearly, the material writes itself.”

“Melissa,” you plead. 

Melissa laughs that laugh, the one that makes the corners of your mouth turn up despite your discomfort. 

“Maybe that could be your end-of-the-year writing project for the kids - make them write that fanfiction,” Melissa teases. 

“You’re just as bad as Angel!” You laugh incredulously and let your hand smack Melissa’s shoulder. The others don’t miss the way Melissa doesn’t break your fingers at the gesture. 

In fact, Melissa's eyes soften as she bumps your shoulder with her own. “No, no, I can see it - newbie woos the Philly Eleven. There’s potential there.” 

You roll your eyes. “Well, I am pretty charming.”

“I’m going home,” Barbara stands up with a polite (if somewhat exasperated) smile, “Very glad we got this out of the way. Have a good weekend, everyone. Y/N… call me later.”

Barbara pats Melissa’s shoulder with a pointed look toward you, and takes her leave rapidly. 

“Uh,” you stare after her. “Yep. Bye, Barb.” 

Melissa’s eyebrow quirks up. “What was that?”

“Dunno,” you reply. “I’m sure you’ll know everything approximately five minutes after I hang up with her, though, so don’t worry.” 

Janine butts in (ah, yeah, the nerds are still here), “You guys call Barbara? Can I have her cell number? I always want to ask her but-“

“No,” you and Melissa say in unison, and Janine sighs heavily. 

You heave out a sigh of your own. “I need to go home - moreover I need to be somewhere no one is asking me about my nonexistent fanfiction habits.”

You stand, and Melissa stands with you as you both gather your belongings. “Impossible. I have your phone number.”

You “accidentally” smack Melissa with your purse, and Melissa “mistakenly” shoves her chair into your leg in a way that makes your knee buckle, and the rest of the Abbot crew watch the scene in morbid fascination. Because the cold hard truth is that if anyone else had dared to do… well, any of this, Melissa would be shoving her earrings into her pocket and removing her heels. Fight or fight instinct, y’know? 

Instead, though, she just swears at you in Italian as you head for the door, grinning widely when you return the sentiment in plain english. 

Ava entering the lounge halts you in your tracks. 

“Y’all will never guess what Angel just emailed me,” Ava exclaims, holding up her phone. “Did you know he knows the word ‘sonnet’? Proud of him.”

“Forward me that?”

Another smack from you. “Melissa, stop!” 

[avatar-anna]

Shopping Spree

i keep seeing videos of parents taking their kids to target and letting them buy whatever they want as long as it fits in their little shopping cart, and i just had to do that for my favorite family!

Young dad!Harry x Young mom!Reader universe

“Okay, Maeve, you know the rules, you can get whatever you want, as long as it fits in the shopping cart.”

Maeve nodded, her little four year old hands gripping her shopping cart like she didn’t need the instructions and just wanted to get started. Still, she smiled at where Y/n was holding her phone up to film. Her nose crinkled as she moved from foot to foot. “Yes, Mama. I know.”

“Alright then. Go crazy, my love.”

Giggling, Maeve set off down the main aisle. “Makeup section first!”

“Makeup section? She—She’s four she doesn’t need—”

Y/n turned her phone camera toward her husband for a moment. “Anything she wants, remember?”

Harry was the one who suggested this little shopping spree. Ever since the world began to open up again, Y/n and Harry started letting the kids out of the house more. They were adjusting to the normal world again after being locked up, wearing masks to school, washing their hands, making new friends, dealing with the separation from their parents after being with them 24/7 for so long. Everyone except Maeve, who Harry and Y/n were told was having a hard time at school socially. She didn’t want to participate in class and cried throughout the day, sometimes wouldn’t let Julian play with the other children, and not making any effort to make friends. “It’s not uncommon. Lots of children are struggling to adjust, and she’s just used to a specific way of living,” her preschool teacher said when she asked for a meeting with Y/n and Harry. 

So to cheer Maeve up, Harry decided she needed a shopping spree. Y/n all but rolled her eyes at the suggestion, but he insisted that retail therapy worked wonders for him. She finally caved, but only until they agreed on finding other ways to help out as well. Harry just kissed his wife before putting his wallet in his bacl pocket. “Well duh. Now come on. Today’s gonna be great.”

So now they were trailing behind their four year old as she pushed her little red shopping cart. 

“Ooh. This looks pretty!” Maeve said, grabbing an eyeshadow palette with all sorts of sparkly pink and purple shades and dropping it into the cart.

Maeve continued on, working through the makeup section, the clothes, where she found some very cute sunglasses and a denim jacket, then the toy section. The three of them spent a lot of time in the toy aisles. Barbie dolls, a Rapunzel costume, plush candy hearts, and—

“Shopkins we have to get Shopkins,” she said, reaching on her tip toes for a collection of toys in bright pink plastic wrapping.

“You’re running out of space there, sweet pea,” Harry said, eyeing the cart. It was his idea to let his daughter roam free throughout the store, but he didn’t expect her to fill the cart so much. Or be so good at fitting everything just right.

“It’s fine,” Maeve said, then continued on to the next aisle.

Before long, Maeve was stuck with making decisions on what to keep in the cart and what to leave behind. Which Barbie to keep, where to fit that stuffed animal. For a moment, Maeve stood and stared at all the things she piled into her shopping cart, another box in her hands. Then, she turned to Harry.

“You can just hold this one,” she said, handing the box over to him.

Harry nearly took it from his daughter’s outstretched hand before Y/n stepped in. “Hang on there, Maeve. Those weren’t the rules,” she said, trying to hide her laughter.

Maeve pouted at her for a moment, and unsurprisingly, so did Harry. But then she shrugged and switched out one box so she could fit the other one in and carried on.

“Tyrant,” Harry muttered.

“Pushover,” Y/n muttered back, then kissed his cheek.

As they were heading back to the front of the store, Maeve stopped as she saw a pair of sparkly blue shoes hanging up on a rack that was well within her reach. She immediately grabbed a pair, and Y/n almost said she didn’t have any room for the shoes when Maeve simply hooked them onto something else in the cart. “There! All done!”

Harry had to hide his face in Y/n’s shoulder so he wouldn’t laugh loudly and bring attention to them. Y/n covered her mouth with her hand as she giggled quietly and continued to film. She had to hand it to her daughter, she was as crafty as Y/n was and as willing to do anything to buy what she wanted as Harry. A perfect mix of the two.

Maeve strolled up to the cash register, slipping some last minute candy into her cart before she began placing her things on the conveyor belt. She had a smile on her face the whole time, especially when the cashier marveled at all of the things she’d crammed into the little shopping cart. Harry had to admit that he hadn’t seen his daughter this excited or social in a long time. Maeve showed the older woman behind the counter all the things she found, pulled out the bills from the pockets of her little jean shorts that Harry gave to her a few aisles back, and put the change in the brand new purse she bought once the woman handed it over to her.

Y/n and Harry helped Maeve get her bags into her shopping cart, and all three of them waved goodbye to the cashier as they left the store. Maeve skipped the whole way, ecstatic about all the things she bought all by herself. When they got to the car, Harry lifted her up and into his arms and kissed her cheek.

“Have fun today, peach?”

Maeve nodded. “I got so much stuff!”

Harry helped her into her car seat while Y/n slid into the passenger seat. She turned back to look at Maeve, who was already asking Harry to open toys sealed in plastic. “You know, Maeve,” she said. “There’s some really cool stuff you could show to your classmates, don’t you think?”

“I guess,” she said, not sounding particularly excited or daunted by the task. “I think I’ll just show Collette and JuJu.”

“Why don’t you want to show your friends at school, peach?” Harry asked, smoothing her hair back.

“I don’t need friends. I have JuJu and Collette and Simone and Mommy and Daddy,” she said, kicking her feet in her car seat.

Harry glanced back at Y/n, who just motioned for him to continue. She got the ball rolling, now it was up to him to take it home. He looked back at Maeve and gave her a small smile. “I love that you love your brother and sisters, Maeve, but there’s some really nice boys and girls at your preschool that could be your friends too.”

“Everyone already has friends at school.” Maeve said, looking down at her hands.

“Well, who do you sit next to during circle time?” Y/n asked.

“JuJu.”

“Okay…so maybe you and Jules can sit next to another kid during circle time,” Harry said, kissing her forehead. “You are the coolest four year old I know, and your family is so lucky because we get to see that all the time, but I think all those kids in your preschool class should be lucky too.”

Maeve was quiet, her brow furrowed as she thought about what Harry said. Both Harry and Y/n watched with bated breath, not sure where to go from here if she said no. Y/n had brought up seeing a specialist, but Harry wasn’t sure that was necessary yet, thinking she just needed to come out of her shell. And maybe they would have to have Maeve start seeing a behavior specialist, Harry would do anything to make his baby happy and healthy, but he didn’t think they were there yet.

“I think that would be okay,” Maeve finally said. “But not Samuel. He picks his nose. Bleh.”

Harry chuckled and kissed her again. “Not Samuel, then. Someone else. Maybe someone who likes Rapunzel like you do.”

“Okay, Daddy.”

Y/n’s grin was wide as Harry slid into the driver’s seat. He buckled himself in, then lifted his hand up toward her. She high-fived him and held his hand as he pulled away from the parking lot and began the drive home. Squeezing his hand, she turned up the music on the radio with the other, then murmured to him so Maeve couldn’t hear, “Another excellent parenting moment.”

“We could write a book,” Harry mused.

“Mm. How to raise six—six—children,” Y/n said, correcting him when he tried to imply they might raise more than six children in the future. That would not be happening. “How to raise six children during the pandemic when you were already living in secret.”

Harry pouted, but Y/n let him. Then, he said, “Might have to work on the title. It’s a little clunky.”

“You’re a little clunky.”

“Oh. Very mature.”

“Mommy, can we make pizza tonight?”

Y/n looked back to where Maeve was holding one of her new stuffed animals. “Of course we can, peach. What are you going to do at school tomorrow?”

“Sit with JuJu and someone else during circle time.”

“And snack time?” Harry added.

“Don’t push it,” Maeve said.

“All right, all right,” Harry said. Then, quietly to his wife, he said, “If only she was that sharp at school.”

Y/n giggled. “Give it time. She’s our baby. She’ll be just fine.”

“Can we do that again tomorrow?”

At a red light, Harry and Y/n shared a look. They were both thinking the same thing, but only Harry said, “We’ve possibly created a monster.”

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

A Cat in the Kitchen

Part 1 (ft. Riddle and Silver) I Part 2 (ft. Trey and Kalim) I Part 3 (ft. Jade and Lilia) I Part 4 (ft. Deuce and Jamil) I Part 5 (ft. Malleus and Ruggie) | Part 6 (ft. Cater and Rook) | Part 7 (ft. Sebek and Floyd) | Part 8 (ft. Ace and Idia) | Part 9 (ft. Leona and Epel) | Part 10 (ft. Jack and Vil)

In which Gordon Ramsay-kun is isekai’d into Twisted Wonderland. Part Food Wars, part Hell’s Kitchen, all Master Chef—Night Raven College isn’t ready to take on this Michelin Star celebrity!!

Ready for a short supplementary cooking class?🌟 A day in the life of Prefect Gordon and his familiar Grim, told in three parts: breakfast, lunch, and dinner. After all, food is tastier when it's shared with friends and family~

Imagine this…

Gordon Ramsay stirred before the rats and the ghosts of Ramshackle dorm did. He was up by 5 am most days, first exercising and then rustling around in the kitchen fighting the gas stove to light (and stay that way!) and taking inventory of the dwindling ingredients in the pantry. At 7 am, the delicious smells would start up, rousing his housemates from their slumber.

This was the magic of a human incapable of spellcasting or sorcery.

"Mm... You're up super early again," Grim muttered from the doorway as he rubbed at his eyes. He yawned, still struggling to shake off the last remnants of sleep that clung to him. "I dunno how you do it."

"Not so hard once you've got the hang of it," he grunted in response. Gordon wiped his hands off on a dish towel before sliding a plate toward Grim. "Eat up now, we don't have much time before classes start."

"I dunno, I'm not too hungry."

"You? Not hungry?" Gordon's brows raised. "That's new. You feeling under the weather?"

Grim leapt, looking as though he had been caught with his entire body stuffed into a cookie jar. "N-No, I'm not! Yup, there's my hunger comin' back to me!"

He hurriedly yoinked a tuna sandwich and chowed down.

"See?! Ah'm jus' fine," Grim insisted, cheeks stuffed.

"Hmm, alright." Gordon tucked into a small bowl of oatmeal--prepared with baked bananas, almond milk, and dried cranberries.

"You got class today too or what?"

"Yup. Ashengrotto and the smaller Shroud this time."

“Think they’ll drive ya mad like the rest of them did?”

“I’ll hold my tongue until I’ve seen how they are in the kitchen for myself.”

“Keh, you’re no fun.”

The beast’s ears flattened. The blue fire that burned so brightly seemed to dim. Something weighed on his mind—of that, Gordon was certain.

“That means you'll abandon me before lunchtime again..." Between chews, Grim complained, "How come I gotta be just a student and you get to be a teacher too? The great Grim-sama oughta be showin' these newbies a thing or two!"

"I only teach what I know. I'm still a student in some ways, learning new things about food every day." Gordon shrugged, giving his friend a rough ruffle on the head. "You can be a teacher when you've mastered everything there is to master--neither of us is quite there yet."

"Why can't it be? I wanna fast forward to the part where I become an archmage already!!"

"Don't be impatient about making progress. I’ve made hundreds of dumplings in a day and still came nowhere near the level of perfection of a dim sum master.“

“Tsk, that sucks. Didja at least get to eat the bad dumplings?”

“It was all I had that day. They weren’t fit to serve to customers.” Gordon shook his head. “My point is, you’ll get there one day. Nose to the grindstone, Grim. You've got to work hard to earn it."

He spooned up the remainder of his oatmeal, then deposited his dirty bowl and spoon in the sink. Gordon plucked up Grim, who still had a mouth full of tuna, and tucked him under one arm.

“M-Myah?!“

“Right then, let’s head out. Brisk morning jog to wake up the senses—it’s a brand new day!”

“Lemme finish my breakfast first, sheesh!!”

Three classes before lunch, and they all went about as well as Gordon had expected them to. (That was to say, not well at all.)

During first period Alchemy, Grim had earned the ire of Crewel by disregarding the potion recipe. In spite of Gordon's reminders and warnings, Grim had taken one too many missteps. The wrong ingredient, the incorrect amount, the temperature too low or too high, the stirring too much or not enough.

He was then caught catnapping during Magic History and extensively told off by both Trein and Lucius. (The meowing had gotten very intense.) Gordon had apologized profusely in Grim's place.

Flying had not fared any better--Grim struggled to concentrate, his unsteady magic causing his broom to wildly buck, attempting to chuck him off. Gordon had to stop his rep of 100 push-ups to fetch his friend out from a shrub. Twigs poked at him, leaves caught in his fur.

By the time they were dismissed back to the locker rooms, Grim had melted into a furry puddle on Gordon's shoulder. "Maaan, I'm beat!! That was rough!"

"Rougher than usual." Gordon crunched on an apple. He had taken to the habit of eating small platters or snacks throughout the day over whole meals—it was more efficient for his lifestyle. “Something you want to tell me, or…?”

“N-Nothing’s up!” Grim snapped. "Quit worryin' about me. It's the boss's job to do that for their minion."

The chef rolled his eyes as he set Grim down on the floor beside him. He handed off a boxed lunch wrapped in a checkered cloth. "I'm off to teach. You'll be fine on your own, right? Find Trappola and Spade, settle down with your food, and don't cause trouble."

"I got it already!" Grim huffed. "Catch ya after...?"

"Always." His smile was strained, a bit tired but true. "Maybe I'll bring back some disastrous stories to share with you over dinner."

One last pat on the head, and then he was gone. Hustling down the hall, the white of his pristine chef’s jacket vanishing behind a corner.

Grim managed the rest of the hike to the cafeteria, balancing his lunch in his paws. He squeezed past the legs of various mob students, emerging safely on the other side. They rushed to line up for trays of food.

Suckers, Grim thought, paying in cash for food. Luckily for me, I’ve got something way better than whatever they’re serving.

“Oiiii, Grim! Over here!!” someone called to him. He looked—and there they were, the duo of troublemakers, marked by a heart and a spade upon their faces.

“Ace! Deuce!”

He scampered over to the two Heartslabyul freshmen. They had already secured their lunches, as well as an open seat for him.

“Hard night? Looks like you didn't get much sleep," Deuce commented. A fluffy omelet wobbled atop a mountain of ketchup fried rice on his plate.

“He's right, you really do look awful," Ace added cheerily--blunt as ever. He had opted for a slice of some savory pie, vegetables and meat oozing out from a buttery crust.

"Sh-Shuddap! The great Grim-sama was up all night cookin' up something big!" He slammed a paw down on the table. "Just look at your sorry lunches. They can't compare to what I have!"

"Did Prefect make your meal again? You should try to not trouble him too much.”

"’S not like I tell’m to! He does it on his own!” Grim snickered to himself. "He takes all these cheap ingredients and throws'm together to make these tasty dishes."

"Well, don't keep us waiting in suspense," Ace groaned. "Show us what you have already."

“Let’s see, let’s see!”

Grim undid the fabric knot that held his lunch in a swathe. The checkered pattern peeled back and the lid, once removed, yielded a creamy, cheesy bed of tuna bake.

Gordon had taken his beloved canned tuna and fried it down into flakes. It was then combined with a special mixture of seasonings, pasta shells, melted cheeses, onions and broccoli, and topped with bread crumbs. After a generous bake in their ancient oven, the dish had come out golden brown and bubbling.

“Whoooa, smells delish!!” all three of them drooled.

“Lucky bastard,” Ace muttered. He quickly put on a cheeky grin, his spoon prepared. “Ne, ne~ Lemme try some, Grim!“

“D-Don’t be cheeky, Ace! You can’t demand to mooch off of someone else’s lunch,” Deuce scolded his peer. “… Even if it does look really good.”

“Paws off!!” Grim shielded the box with his body. “My minion made this for me and me only!”

“Tch.” Ace’s expression dropped. “You get to eat like a king for free while the rest of us have to shell out and make do with whatever’s on the school’s menu.”

“It’s not that bad,” Deuce pointed out. “It’d be nice to be able to eat for free but I’m happy with the quality of food we get for the price.”

“This comin’ from the guy who was running low on pocket money for a snack the other day?” he smirked.

“H-Hey, I need to budget, okay?!”

While the duo bickered, Grim had started to shove his face into the box (silverware was too difficult to maneuver) and wolf down his meal. Cheese sauce painted his fur, bits of broccoli and tuna dotting his jaw.

It was heaven—or as close to heaven as he could get on the earth.

He licked his lips appreciatively, mopping up what was left on his face. Not even a little could go to waste. Grim was determined.

As he went back in for another mouthful, he felt a phantom hand cascade across his head, his back. Advice from that morning filled his mind.

“You’ll get there one day. Nose to the grindstone, Grim. You've got to work hard to earn it."

He shut his eyes, making a silent vow.

I’ll definitely… definitely pay ya back for all the hard work you’ve been puttin’ in too, partner.

Gordon bid farewell to the ghost chefs on his way out of the kitchen. The day’s leftovers and unused ingredients overflowed from his arms—a perk of the teaching gig, which helped to feed him and his feline roommate. He mentally parsed through what was available, dreaming up new dishes for the days to come.

There was a nice chunk of fresh tuna (Grim would love it) in his brown paper bag. Perhaps he’d sear it with a sesame crust, then drizzle the seafood in a yuzu-lime dressing to brighten it. He’s plate it with a microgreens salad. Chives, arugula, celery, radish, and ruby sorrel to encourage Grim to eat a variety of vegetables.

He made his way out of the school building and down the long, winding path to Ramshackle dorm. The sun was still out, warming the worn Prefect.

On the front porch, he rustled around in his pants for the keys. When he finally fished it out and inserted the teeth into the lock, Gordon swore he heard a series of suppressed giggles from beyond the door.

Odd.

The door swung open, and he was immediately accosted.

"Welcome baaack," the Ramshackle Ghosts chirped. One ushered him in from behind, another too his groceries off of his hands, and a third tugged him along by the arm.

"Come this way! Grimmy's got a treat for ya!"

"He's been working hard on it the second he got back from his last class."

"Oooh, you're gonna LOVE it!"

"What about dinner?" Gordon protested, watching his beloved ingredients sail off.

He was thrusted into their dingy kitchen--which doubled as the dining room, thanks to the table and chairs set up in one cobwebbed corner. The same old Ramshackle he woke up to every day. Rusty knobs and hinges, chipped cupboards, electricity and running water that blinked in and out.

But there, set on a table with uneven legs and splintered wood, was something extraordinary.

It was a stout cake, iced in light blue with a layer of dripping white and several lit candles stuck into the top. Black frosting formed the vague shape of a fish, TUNA piped over it in white. A single lollipop--pale blue, and in the shape of a paw--casually rested against the cake, as if it had been tossed on top for an extra flair.

A furry mass tackled and hugged Gordon's leg.

"Grim?!"

He was suited up in his own little chef's uniform. It was deep gray, verging on black, his apron tied with a striped-purple ribbon. A tiny toque--a chef's hat-- sat between his ears, a bandage over the bridge of his nose. A smear of white icing decorated his left cheek, and he carried with him a telltale piping bag squeezed thin.

Gordon blinked. "You did this?"

"Nyahahah! Were you surprised?"

"You told me you couldn't cook to save your life."

"He can't," a ghost piped up as he deposited the groceries onto a counter. "He's worse than I was when I was alive!"

"That's why Grimmy's been getting up in the dead of night lately. Been, what? Gotta be a few weeks now."

"He's been practicing his baking and then cleaning up the traces of his crime before you get up."

"What..."

"I wanted to pay ya back, yanno! For all the cookin' and cleanin' and whatever," Grim mumbled shyly, kicking at the ground. "So I figured I'd treat ya for once! I was thinking of a sticky toffee pudding at first since that's your favorite, but... it gets so sticky, it was hard to work with!"

He patted his stomach. "I couldn't put my stuff in the trash can or else you'd notice, so I had to eat up all my mistakes too! It was a lotta effort and way harder than it looked, so you'd better be grateful!!”

Grim looked away, rubbing at his bandage.

“… It helped me better understand and appreciate all the things you do on the daily.”

It clicked.

Everything suddenly made sense. Grim's tiredness, lack of focus, decreased appetite, defensiveness—it was all for this very moment.

"... I see." Gordon bent down, a smile taking shape on his mouth. A steady kindling in his chest. “This is your way of saying ‘thank you’.”

“M-Maybe! An archmage has gotta take good care of his minion,” Grim muttered.

The prefect laughed softly. “And you’re doing a great job at it. Hang tight, I'll get the stove going and whip us up some seared tuna to go with the cake."

“Myah?! Y-You’ve got tuna? Like, the real stuff?!” Grim’s eyes were wide and sparkling. A line of drool ran down his chin. "Fancy tuna...!!"

"Yeah. We can plate some for the ghosts too--so they can join us for a meal in spirit." Gordon nodded at their other roommates. Their pale faces brightened with excitement.

"Can we really?"

"It's been so long since I was last invited to a celebration like this!!"

"Oh, but we can't eat... Ghosts don't have digestive systems. The tune would pass right through us."

"... Grim, you have eat their shares. More importantly, it's being together for the occasion that matters, right?"

"Whoo-hoo!! You're the best minion an archmage could ask for!!" Grim cheered, leaping into the air, furry fist pumping.

“Let's get this dinner party started…!”

[artemis32]

your platonic yandere aizawa post has me in a chokehold, it’s so cute 😭 imagine trying to go into your dad’s classroom while he still has a class because you forgot something in there or something and that’s how class 1A sees you for the very first time 😩 they see how differently aizawa acts with you and they start connecting the dots

platonic yandere aizawa shota ii

Yandere dad Aizawa is the father figure we all need in our lives

Note - I used this to fulfil my deep-seated desire for physical affection, I’m so fucking touched starved

platonic aizawa masterlist

bnha masterlist

You had spent your lunch break in your father's classroom. He insisted that you spend time with him, but decided to do paperwork instead of having you lingering around the teacher's lounge.

He'd never admit that it's mainly because he didn't want the other teachers hogging your time and attention.

So, the two of you had spent the forty-five-minute lunch break in near silence, you doing homework in the back of your father's classroom, huddled up at one of the desks near the rear of the classroom, papers and stationary scattered around you.

Five minutes before the bell rang, your father asked you to pack your belongings and leave for your next class. 

Why he never wanted to introduce you to his homeroom class, you’d never know. Regardless, you couldn’t be bothered to push the subject. It was enough to deal with your father when you were surrounded by your own classmates, you didn’t want to feel him hover over your shoulder as you introduced yourself to twenty new people.

You finished packing your belongings, papers neatly placed in your bag. 

Bidding your father a farewell went about as well as it usually did. He tended to act as if it would be the last time you would ever see him, nearly suffocating you in a crushing embrace.

You made it back to your classroom just as the bell rang.

"Ah, sir, I forgot my stationary in my father’s classroom. Would you mind if I go and get it?”

The words are whispered apologetically. You weren’t sure if your classmates knew who your father was. It was better that they didn’t - you didn’t want them to think you received special treatment.

You felt like such an idiot. Evidentially, you hadn’t packed up properly before you’d left your father’s classroom.

Oh, he was not going to be happy with you.

On the way to his classroom, you prayed to whatever higher power there may be that your father didn’t have a class at that moment. Maybe they had field training today.

Your optimism crashed and burned within a few moments.

The knock on the door, no matter how soft, disrupted the class.

Aizawa sighed heavily, a slight scowl on his face.

“Come in.”

The disruption gave the students of class 1a a chance to boredly chat amongst themselves, the chatter in the room gradually increasing.

You opened the door slightly, popping your head through the gap as you surveyed the room.

Shoot, there’s a class.

You were met with curious stares as you slipped into the classroom, gently closing the door behind you before making your way to your father’s desk.

The students sat waiting with bored interest, waiting for you to receive a harsh scowl or a request to leave, but were shocked into silence when neither happened. Your back was to the class as you held a whispered conversation with their teacher. Aizawa stood there, nodding and silent as he watched you speak.

“Okay, just be quick.”

You nod, making your way to the back of the classroom, through the two middle rows towards where Todoroki was seated. You gave him an apologetic half-smile, leaning down next to him to grab the pouch of pens and pencils next to him on the floor.

Walking amongst the desks and silent students felt like a walk of shame as you stopped in front of your father’s podium again, quietly thanking him and apologising for disrupting the class.

What he did next shocked the class.

He smiled. Not a sarcastic smile, not an evil smile like the ones he would display before field tests, but an actual, genuine smile. 

They’d never seen their teacher look so soft.

Aizawa walked you to the door, opening it for you again saying something too quiet for his students to hear.

And then he hugged you.

The room remained silent as he closed the door and made his way back to the podium in the front of the class.

“Now, where were we?”

His words seem to spur them from their stupor.

A chorus of who was that?! was what followed.

The usual scowl returned as he let his quirk flare slightly. Their jabbering died down slightly until it was silent once again.

Denki, however, in all of his infinite wisdom, decided to push the subject, asking what all of his classmates were thinking.

“Sensei, who was that? Are you that friendly with all of the other students? Why do we never get hugs?!”

His words seem to make Aizawa even more annoyed, the vein in his forehead ticking slightly. 

But what’s done is done, and Aizawa realises that there would be no avoiding the topic any longer. 

That doesn’t mean he won’t try.

“Drop it Kaminari, that has nothing to do with this class or what we’re learning. Now, moving on.”

The rest of the lesson is spent with Denki interjecting at odd moments, trying to catch Aizawa off guard.

By the time the lesson ends, Aizawa is exhausted and annoyed beyond belief, but grateful that he made it through the lesson without having to kick anyone out of the class. 

Thank God for self-restraint.

"Dad, I am so sorry. I promise I won’t ever forget anything like that again. You’re not mad at me, are you?”

From the moment your father arrived home, he slumped down on to the small couch in the living room, exhaustion evident on his face and in the way his tall frame slouched over.

You’d been fretting about, hurriedly running around the apartment, trying to make him comfortable, bringing him tea and snacks, blankets and hovering over his shoulder, wringing your hands anxiously. You knew that going into the room while he had a class would probably raise some uncomfortable questions, but you didn’t think it would stress your father out as much as it had.

Anxiety weighed down on you heavily. You’d always had a slight buzzing fear of upsetting or disappointing your father.

He sighs deeply, running his hand down his face and rubbing his jaw. He pats the open seat next to him. 

As soon as you sit down, he pulls you into his side, hugging you close and petting your hair. 

The physical contact does wonders to calm you, and the tension melts away as you lean into his side. He seems to calm down as well, placing a linger kiss on the crown of your head before mumbling into your hair.

“It’s fine, I’m sure they’ll forget about it sooner or later. Don’t you worry about a thing, I have never and will never blame you for anything, you got that?”

His tone is serious.

You shift in your seat, now facing him, and wrap your arms around his waist, burying your face into his chest. 

Humming in acknowledgement, the two of you remain still for a moment. 

Whenever either of you became too overwhelmed or stressed, physical affection seemed to be the best thing to calm you down. 

After a few minutes, you pulled away and your father grumbled slightly.

You laughed, standing up and stretching before asking what he wanted for dinner, padding towards the kitchen while rambling to yourself.

Aizawa smiled to himself.

He loved you more than anything in this world, and he would die a thousand times before he let anything happen to you.

Meanwhile, in the 1a common area, a few of the students of class 1a sat scheming, brainstorming a list of ideas about who you could possibly be.

“I still say that’s his favourite student! There’s no other explanation, that has to be it dude!”

Sero bickers with Denki, and Kirishima and Mina nod, backing him up.

The group had been at it for an hour and a half, going back and forth, arguing about who was more correct.

“Hmm, I don’t care who she is, she was hot.”

Mineta receives a resounding slap to the back of the head, courtesy of Jirou.

“Don’t be gross.”

Bakugo, who sits to the side, scoffs under his breath, drawing the attention of the small group.

“And what’s so funny Bakugo?” Denki asks indignantly.

“You’re all idiots, that’s what.”

The group let out varying noises of outrage, clearly offended by his assessment.

“Well then who do you think she is wise guy?”

Denki smirks, sure that he’s caught Bakugo out. 

Bakugo lets out a dry laugh.

“She’s his daughter, obviously.”

It’s silent for a moment, before the group bursts out laughing.

“His daughter? Bahahahahha. Man, you’re funny Bakugo.”

“Where’d you come up with that idea? And you think our ideas are stupid.”

The glare he throws them shuts them up, and Kirishima clears his throat.

“Bakugo, bro, she’s definitely not his daughter. I mean, we would have figured it out a while ago if he actually had a daughter, right?”

Bakugo scoffs. “Fine, don’t believe me then. Ask Todoroki.”

At the mention of his name, the dual-haired boy raises his head.

“Todoroki, that girl we saw in class today - is she Mr Aizawa’s daughter?”

The group wait with bated breath, somewhat eager to prove Bakugo wrong.

“Yes, she is. Couldn't you tell? It was pretty obvious.”

Denki splutters out half sentences, baffled.

“Fine, I’ll just ask Mr Aizawa tomorrow. He’ll have to come clean sooner or later, right?”

Kirishima hums slightly in agreement with Sero. 

Of course, you weren’t Mr Aizawa’s daughter. You couldn’t be - right?

Bakugo scoffs once more.

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

WIBTA for ruining my shitty boss' reputation and potentially discouraging good teachers from working at a socioeconomically disadvantaged school?

(apologies, this is a long one)

Last year, I (24F - then 23) got a teaching job at the public high school I graduated from. I worked under a vice principal (late 30s/early 40s), who I will call VP. I was hired alongside three other first year teachers, but I was the only one who was an alumni of the school. As a former student at the high school, and as someone who lives in the area the high school services, I know that the area (and school) have a bad reputation that isn't deserved (it's mostly racism and prejudice imo). The teachers are very supportive and have a strong sense of community with the students, and generally work to provide opportunities for underprivileged kids. I wouldn't be where I am today without their support, and they were super happy to have me back as well and work with me in a professional capacity - and I was excited to do the same.

Now, my VP and principal had been working at that school site for the past few years - long after I graduated - so I don't have the same connection with them, nor they with me. VP initially offered me a temp position, then it got switched to a permanent position as the teacher whose position I took decided they're not coming back.

So I always felt that the VP was picking on me for some reason, but never really brought it up because I didn't want to seem like I was complaining at work as the newbie. He would do twice a week walk-in observations of my classroom, while the other first year teachers got walk-in observations twice every three months. He would also have meetings with me during my prep time 4 out of 5 days of the week - meaning I barely got any prep (once again, he would not do this with the other first year teachers). He also frequently forgot my name and would write me up for ridiculous reasons (he once wrote me up because a student farted in my class and I didn't reprimand the student! What the fuck do I say to that?!).

It got to the point where, even though I wasn't complaining to my coworkers, they noticed. Other teachers brought up how oddly and unfairly he was treating me, and even set up a meeting with our union representative on my behalf. At the meeting, I brought up these grievances, and VP downplayed them all and claimed any perceived slight was not intentional, and since most of the issues weren't in writing (except for the numerous write-ups) it was his word against mine. The meeting ended with us both apologizing to each other, and really nothing else happened. His weird treatment of me actually escalated after the union rep meeting; he once came into my classroom and yelled at me in front of my students for letting a student go to the bathroom, and also demanded I work outside of my contracted work hours (which I refused, and he made it clear he didn't like that).

Needless to say, all of the other teachers in my department and myself were all wondering why the fuck does he not like me, and we found out why recently. During one of his tirades late last school year, he told me (verbally - no written proof) that he didn't want to hire me and only did so because the other teachers on the hiring committee insisted upon it. He told me to thank my lucky stars that my position was the one that "happened" to become permanent. I told my coworkers, and one of them (whose wife works at the school district's HR department) informed me that shortly after I was hired VP was in a super long meeting with HR arguing over a new hire - which we now guess was likely me. It also came out that the two other first year teachers frequently go to bars with him and play golf.

Long story short, earlier this week he told me that he's firing me so that he can instead transfer in another teacher from a different site - one that, you guessed it, he goes to bars with and plays golf. This guy has a bad reputation in the district, though, for generally being a shitty guy and an even shittier teacher.

When the news broke to my department, it quickly spread to the rest of the school. A lot of the older, more established teachers at my school became really outraged, apparently complained to the union and the principal about it, union said they can't really do anything because nothing wrong was officially committed, principal stood behind VP's decision, yadda yadda, and a bunch of teachers have since made it clear they are also not returning next year. Resignation notices, sudden retirement declarations, requests to transfer to other schools in the district - you name it. A good 85% of the teachers at the school are leaving suddenly, including influential pillars of the school's community, people who have been there since the school was founded.

Here is the main WIBTA:

Last year, I was also working on getting a Master's degree in education, and I accomplished that. Yahoo, yay, etc. Due to the nature of my thesis and Master's program, I worked closely with a few professors of education, who - in turn - have a bunch of connections with various big-name people in the area. Also, over summer break, my thesis was good enough that they toured me around a bit, and I got to make acquaintances with other notable people with notable connections. Once again, in an effort to seem professional, I didn't complain or really reveal any of my lukewarm feelings about my boss, but now, as my professors continue to want to have me showboat my thesis around, they keep asking how my work is. I'm going to tell them that I'm no longer going to be working at that school (partially to be truthful, partially to ask them to be references) - but moreso, I'm thinking of telling them how shitty my boss was. If I do that, knowing them, they'll likely tell some of the many people they know, who will likely ruin this man's whole career. However, these professors also teach teacher credential classes and trainings, and I'm worried they might discourage future teachers from working at that school. I don't want to doom the students of this school to shitty teachers who don't support them all because of a shitty vice principal.

So, WIBTA for complaining about my shitty boss to some influential people I know and possibly discourage teachers from working at that school?

What are these acronyms?

[diazsdimples]

WIP Wednesday

I did a bad thing and started (yet another) WIP. I'm gonna put myself into writers jail until I finish the fic's I've started. But until then, enjoy the first snippet of Single Dad AU! I seem to be in my Dad!Buck era.

Tagged by @hippolotamus @cal-daisies-and-briars @callmenewbie @spotsandsocks and @wikiangela go check out their works IMMEDIATELY

Snippet below the cut (sorry it's kinda long but it's cute I swear!)

“Daddy, Daddy, Daddy!!!”

Buck’s head flicks up and he sees two streaks of blonde before the wind is knocked out of him as his daughters barrel into his legs, latching onto him like a pair of leeches.

Carrie, slightly taller than her little sister, smacks her head into his hip as she comes to a quick stop. Buck laughs as he staggers backwards, arms coming out to wrap around the girls.

“Hello my loves!” he grins, crouching down and pulling them into a suffocating hug. “How was your day?”

“It was good!” Carrie says, dropping her backpack at Buck’s feet and hopping into the backseat, clipping herself into her booster seat. Lily circles her arms around Buck’s neck, and he lifts her up, carrying her to the other side of the car and buckling her into her car seat.

“What about you, sweetheart?” he asks Lily as he checks her straps. “First day of school, did you have fun?”

Lily nods. “Uh huh, my teacher is really nice, and she let us colour in all day!”

Buck chuckles, kissing Lily on the head before shutting the door and hopping into the front seat.

“So, anything exciting happen for you, Carrie?”

Carrie nods enthusiastically, her blonde curls flouncing around her head as she does so.  “We've got a new boy in class. He’s really nice.”

Buck’s eyes flicker to the rear-view mirror as he drives, watching Carrie as she talks. “What’s his name?” he asks.

“Christopher,” Carrie replies. “He’s from El Paso and him and his daddy moved here a few months ago.”

“Where’s El Paso?” Lily pipes up. She looks so cute, her hair pulled back in Buck’s best attempt at a French braid (she’d insisted on one, stating that she needed to look good for her first day at school), and her little shirt with butterfly wings poking out of the back, a little squished from the carseat.

“In Texas, baby,” Buck replies.

“Oh, and I got into trouble today,” Carrie adds, looking down at her feet.

Buck arches an eyebrow. Carrie’s a bit of a firecracker and it’s not unknown for her to come home with a letter for Buck to read. It’s usually about encouraging her to think before she speaks. Buck’s not sure he’s the right person to be teaching her that, he’s just as bad sometimes. “What happened?” he asks, bracing himself for the response.

“Some of the boys in class were making fun of Christopher because he walks funny,” Carrie replies.

“And that got you in trouble how?”

Carrie shrugs. “I told them they were being assholes” she says, as though it’s the simplest thing in the world.

Jesus Christ. It’s all Buck can do to not burst out laughing. He is a very, very responsible parent.

“Carrie, I love that you stood up for Christopher, and that was a very nice thing for you to do, but we can’t use language like that” he replies, doing his level best not to let his obvious delight shine through too much.

“But you say it to Uncle Chimney all the time!” she protests.

Well, she’s got him there.

Buck takes a deep breath, fighting down his laugher. “I know, sweetheart, but adults are allowed to say these kinds of things. They’re not words for kids.”

Carrie pouts and crosses her arms and Buck just about melts when Lily copies the gesture, ever her big sister’s number one fan. “Being a kid is boring” she huffs.

“Yeah, Daddy! Boring!” Lily adds, looking at Carrie for approval.

Buck snorts. “Quiet from the cheap seats!” Fuck, he’s so lucky he’s got these two girls.

(No pressure) tagging @theplaceyoustillrememberdreaming @thewolvesof1998 @theotherbuckley @malewifediaz @watchyourbuck @disasterbuckdiaz @spagheddiediaz @eddiebabygirldiaz @jesuisici33 @steadfastsaturnsrings @daffi-990 @fruitandbubbles @fionaswhvre @fortheloveofbuddie @wildlife4life @monsterrae1 @rainbow-nerdss

[thomashewittmybeloved]

Jealous of a jock

pairing: Ted Logan x reader

summary : You've been friends with Ted and Bill for years now, being an inseparable trio. But Ethan, a jock from your class, desperately needs your help to study for an upcoming History exam. Ted doesn't really like this new friendship and tries his best to make you understand how he feels about it.

Warnings : obv jealousy and a kinda possessive Ted but other than that, it's pretty light! just like every fanfic writer ever, English isn't my first language so keep that in mind while reading!

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾

I took a deep breath as I walked into the library, trying to calm my nerves. Today was another tutoring session with Ethan, one of the jock's from school. I had been helping him with his history homework for the past few weeks, and despite our very different social circles, we had become quite good friends. We started talking when our History teacher put us together for an oral presentation about the Roman Empire, about how it was founded. When we started working on it, Ethan immediately noticed how much of an History nerd I am, which at first, I was kind of scared of, since he's a stereotypical jock that could make fun of me for knowing so much about "old dudes in dresses".

But, to my suprise, he was more impressed than anything and quite friendly. We clicked the moment I noticed how much he tried to help, even if he didn't understand anything. Our presentation was a success; 18/20, that's when he asked to be his tutor. My friendship with Ethan became quite good, I grew more and more attached to him, which seemed to be causing some problems with Ted, problems that I didn't get why even started.

He just grew more distant and cold towards me, while Bill stayed the same so it really is personal. So his new attitude explains why, right now, it's so awkward between us. I told him I couldn't eat with him and Bill because I promised to help Ethan during lunch, which ended in Ted insisting to, at least, make the walk to the library with me. Of course I said yes, I missed hanging out with him too, but maybe I would have said no if I knew how silent he would be....

As Ted and I continued walking down the stairs, I noticed him staring at me with a look of concern so, I took this opportunity to break the uncomfortable silence. "What's wrong, Ted?" I asked, trying to figure out what was going on. "You've been quiet all the way. Which, coming from you, is really concerning."

"Y/N, I don't like you hanging out with Ethan all the time." Ted blurred out, looking down.

"What? Why not?" I asked, surprised by his sudden change in behavior. Where is this coming from?

"He's a jock, dude."

"Oh." I said, understanding. "Ted, you really don't have to worry about this, he's actually really nice ! Nicer than I would've thought too." I smiled at Ted, to no avail; he still refused to look back at me.

"You're supposed to be hanging out with us, not him...We're your friends," He mumbled, his tone turning accusatory.

"I know you guys are my friends, Ethan just needs my help. He's failing History class and I'm the only one who can help him." I explained, hoping that he would understand. "Also, I'm allowed to have other friends. You're not the only guys I can help with History, you know."

"You're spending all your time with him! We don't get to hang out anymore !" Ted protested. "We also need your help dude for, like, History stuff..." He rubbed the back of his neck, walking farther away from me.

"I'm sorry, Ted, but I have to help him. I promise I'll make time for us too !" I assured him, hoping to ease his worries but by the look on his face, none of what I was saying was comforting him.

"Fine..." Ted sighed, his frustration evident. "Just make sure you don't forget about us. We miss hanging out with you dudette."

"I won't forget about you, Ted. You're both my best friends !" I said, giving him a reassuring smile while gently rubbing his arm up and down. "You're also too loud to forget."

He laughs, making my cheek redden slightly. Finally, here's the Ted I know ! He stops suddenly once we arrive in front of the library.

I look up at him with a shy smile. "I should go." I say, quieter than intended.

He simply waves at me before turning around, walking away, way too quickly. As I watch him go, I feel something tug at my heart, some sort of longing. I sigh, going in, ready to help Ethan.

As the days went by, I noticed that Ted was becoming more and more distant. He would barely talk to me and when he did, it was always about how much he missed hanging out with me. I tried to reassure him that I still cared about him and Bill, but it didn't seem to make a difference, no matter what I said. A few days ago, he commented about how I lied when I said I would make time for them. I didn't respond, not knowing what to say to that. He's usually so carefree, I wasn't expecting such an attitude from him, it took me by surprise. We haven't talked since...As I was walking to my next class, Ethan caught up to me in the hallway, pulling me out of my thoughts.

"Hey, Y/N, you free tonight? I need some help with my homework !" he asked, flashing me a smile.

"Sure, Ethan. I'll meet you in the library after school." I replied, feeling a twinge of guilt for not spending more time with Ted and Bill, by accepting his offer without thinking twice. Maybe I was getting a little too attached to Ethan.

"Wait, do you have your Spanish class today?" He asked, smirking. "Because my deutsch teacher isn't here."

"Oh no, she's absent too!" We laugh at that realisation. "Well, I guess we can study right now then."

He comes next to me, taking my bag from my shoulders. "Hey !" I gasp, surprised. "You have to stop doing that, I already told you I can carry my bag myself."

"And I told you I can also carry your bag Y/N !" He winks at me, making me roll my eyes. "You're helping me for free so this is my way of paying you." He replies, walking shoulder to shoulder with me.

"What a gentleman..."

I took a deep breath to calm myself as I walked into the library with Ethan, still laughing from what he said. Today was another day I spent doing a tutoring session with Ethan, instead of hanging out with Bill and Ted.

I felt a heavy gaze on me as soon as we entered so, I looked around, until I saw Ted sitting at a table with Bill, both of them staring at me. Bill smiled when I noticed them while Ted just hung his head low. I turn around to Ethan, asking him to take a table for us. After he left, I took another deep breath, preparing myself for whatever mood Ted was in. "Hey guys," I said, walking over to their table. "What's up?"

"Nothing much dude !" Bill said, grinning. "Just waiting for you to show up, we were gonna go grab some pizza's and slushies !"

Ted didn't say anything, just focusing on his fidgety fingers. I frowned, feeling a pang of guilt for how he felt. "I'm sorry, guys. I can't today. I have a tutoring session with Ethan, his test is next week. He barely remembers when the Cold War was so we have a lot of work to do !"

Ted's head snapped up at the mention of Ethan. "Again ? You're always hanging out with him. Don't you have any time for us dude?"

I felt my face flush, taken aback by his tone. There it was again... "I'm sorry, Ted. I'm just trying to help him out. It's not like we're doing anything wrong." I clutched my arm, trying to stay calm. "We talked about this already; I'm helping him, he needs my help."

"Maybe he's using you for your, like, brain dude." He looked back down. "You don't know..."

I bristled, feeling defensive. "He's a nice guy, Ted. And I can be friends with whoever I want." I crossed my arms. "Why are you so angry about this ? You're usually so chill about everything, why is this specific thing getting to you so much ?"

"Yeah dude, what's with the attitude?" Joined Bill, just as confused as me. "Be nicer to the babe."

Ted's jaw clenched as he stood up abruptly. "Fine. Do what you want. Just don't expect me to sit around waiting for you all the time." He paused, looking at both of us with wide eyes. "I'm hungry anyways."

He stormed out of the library, leaving Bill and me staring at him in shock.

"What the hell was that about?" Bill muttered, looking up at me.

I shook my head, feeling just as confused as him.

"I don't know. He's just been acting weird lately." I sigh, rubbing my hand down my face. "Since I started to help Ethan he's like that... I don't understand why tho."

"Maybe he's jealous," Bill suggested, raising an eyebrow.

I scoffed. "Jealous? Of what?"

"Of Ethan," Bill responded, shrugging. "You guys have been spending a lot of time together. Maybe Ted feels left out, I don't know." Bill smiled knowingly at me. "I mean, you did walk in here laughing while he was carrying your bag, dude."

"I, what ?" I think about it for a moment, still shaking my head. "Why would he mind about that ? Ted never carried my bag before..."

I rolled my eyes, but deep down, I knew that Bill was right. Ted had always been a little possessive of me, I just had never thought it was anything serious. We just always had each other so, I simply thought he was afraid I would leave for the more popular kids, maybe it's deeper than that... I look at Bill for an instant, noticing his open notebook.

"Hey, you want to study with me and Ethan ?" I asked, smiling. "I could help you with the Charlemagne chapter."

Bill face immediately lightened up. "It would be most excellent dudette !"

The next week, I had another tutoring lesson scheduled with Ethan, as always. He had his test in two days so this was THE moment to study. It's been days since I saw Ted, I had glimpse of him sometimes in the hallways, he would walk past me after quickly glancing my way. I tried to not overthink it but it was hard, I was missing him an awful lot... Not seeing it everyday of every minute just reminded me how much I like him, how bad my crush on him is.

As I walked into the library to join Ethan who sat at our usual table, I saw Ted sitting alone, looking dejected as always. With my heart starting to pound, I walked up to him, hating how our last conversation ended. The moment I approached his table, he looked up before quickly adverting his eyes, sitting up straight.

"Hey, Ted, what are you doing here?" I asked, kind of surprised to see him here of all places. He usually never hangs out in the library expect if we have to study, he seems to be here quite a lot lately.

"I thought I'd surprise you and come help you tutor Ethan..." Ted said, a hint of bitterness in his voice. "Bill told him you helped him after, you know."

"Really? That's great, Ted!" I said, genuinely happy to see him and especially hear him say that. "Oh yeah, it's great !" I grasped his hand without thinking, dragging him to me and Ethan's table. When he noticed us approach, Ethan smiled nicely. "What's up?" he asked while Ted sat on the chair next to me. "You're Theo, right?" Ethan asked, putting his fist in front of him.

"Ted." He responded simply, fist bumping Ethan's hand with hesitation.

"Right, Ted, my bad man."

"He's really bad with names." I murmured, trying to ease the atmosphere. " Especially Napoléon Bonaparte, he cannot remember his name even if his life depended on it..."

"Hey, that French guy as a hard name ok !" Replied Ethan, his hand up in surrender.

"Napoleon ?" Repeated Ted, before turning to me. "Oh the little angry French dude ?"

Ethan brust out laughing at that, earning us a shush from the librarian. We giggled quietly, Ted shoulders relaxing lightly and is usual smile finally appaering again.

"Guys, guys, let's focus ok ? The test is in two days !" I say in the most neutral voice possible, not succeeding to stop my growing smile from appearing at Ted's one. "Ok, so what famous battle did Napoléon Bonaparte loose ?"

Three hours later, we finally get out of there, sighing loudly. Ethan's leave's us quickly, having a football practice, leaving me and Ted alone in front of the library. I quickly glance at him but feel heat rise to my cheeks when I see that he was already looking at me, a big smile on his lips.

"You were right dudette ! Ethan is a nice dude !" He pat's my shoulder. "He as a most excellent humour."

I laugh, nudging Ted shoulder with mine. "Told you." I respond, adjusting my bag on my shoulder, groaning.

"I can carry it if you want !" Before I can even reply, he takes it from me and slings it over his available shoulder. "There ! Now we're ready to go !"

"Why do you all think I can't carry my own bag ?!" I complain, while catching up with Ted who already started walking. I stop my thoughts for a moment, thinking back on what Billy said to me a few days ago. I look back at Ted who's still smiling, moving his head to the beat of an invisible song. That's when it hits me, finally. I stop in my track, also stopping Ted by putting my hand on his arm. "What's up dude ?" He asks, turning around to face me. "Y/N ?"

"You were jealous of me and Ethan." I whisper, realising it as I say it. "But, not because you were afraid of losing me as...a friend."

Ted eyebrows furrow, confusion written all over his face. "What do you mean?"

"You were jealous, yes ?" I ask, looking up at him. "Be honest."

He's hesitant for a moment, his cheeks reddening slightly. "I mean, yeah...like, kinda. I was afraid he was, you know, mean and stuff." He shrugges, his gaze looking at everything but me. "Turns out he's nice ! And his exam is in two days, so you'll be free again !"

"Ted..."

"Yes ?" He responds, looking at me again, his smile fading when he see's my expression. "Y/N ?"

"Are you..." I gulp, feeling my hand starting to shake. "Ted, I have to admit something to you. I don't know if I'm reading what's happening in the wrong way but I have to try, just in case I'm right." His brows furrow again, now he looks even more lost than before. "Give me my bag, just in case I'm wrong so that I can run away quickly." I chuckle nervously.

"What ?" He laughs quickly "Why would you ran away dude ?"

"I like you." I blur out, looking him dead in the eyes. "Not in a you're my best friend way but in a I want to be way more than your best friend way." I quickly swallow, feeling my courage fade. "I mean, not super mega best friend way either. Romantic way, like couples." I search his eyes. "Ted ?" I ask, my heart hammering in my chest. "Please, say something..."

"Woah dude..." He whispers, taking his head in his hands. "DUDE !"

I jump at his sudden yelling but can't help a laugh when I see him jumping around, punching the air yelling dude and woah multiples time. He suddenly stops, looking at me with the widest smile I've ever seen him have.

"DUDE !" He yells again, running towards me, lifting me in his arms while I yelp.

"Ted ! Oh my god, what are you doing ?!" I laugh while he spins me around. "I'm going to fall, I'll fall !" I breath out, felling my body slip away from his arms. "Ted, what's happening with you ?" I laugh, out of breath while he puts me down, his arms still holding me close to him.

"What's happening ? Dude, you told me you're in love with me !" He responds quickly, his voice trembling. "The most bodacious babe just told me she likes me ! Like, in a romantic way !"

I push him a bit to look at him, surprised. "Wait, does that mean..."

He cuts me off. "Of course it does ! Why would I spin you around ?"

"Do you even know yourself ? You could do it at any given opportunity!" I laugh, in disbelief. "So, I was right, you were jealous of Ethan."

Ted lower his head, his hair covering his face to hide his shamefulness. "Yeah... I mean, the guy's has everything. He's popular, handsome, nice and a jock. Bonus point for being funny !"

I smile tenderly, taking his face in my hands to put his gaze back into mine.

"True. He's veeeery handsome." Ted huff, trying to look away but I turn his face again to make him look back at me. "But I prefer guys with brown hair and eyes, who wear silly jackets with a big smiling face behind, rather than a sport's one. I also prefer guys with a blond friend called Bill. You want me to continue or you got it ?"

I feel the heat radiating from his face on my fingers, if seeing how red he was wasn't enough. We only look at each other for a moment, letting everything sink in.

"I really want to kiss you." He breaths out. "Can I kiss you ?"

"After you apologies."

"I'm sorry for being an evil dude. I shouldn't have ignored such a babe just because of a nice jock guy."

I giggle when he gives my cheek a quick peck. "And I'm sorry for not taking the time to hang out with you and Bill, I should have. I swear that from this day on, I will no matter what !" I finish my speech by returning his quick peck, making him giggle. "Now you can kiss me handsome."

He blushes at the pet name before crashing his lips on mine without a warning, making me yelp in surprise. Quickly, I compose myself and slide my hands to his hair to deepen the kiss while they move in rhythm with one another. It's clumsy, so we smile and giggle through it, he even apologies some times which I always respond with a simple it's ok before pulling him back for more. He doesn't have to be jealous, because no matter how messy and inexperienced our kisses are, I only want his.

"This was the most excellent kiss ever !"

[buckysimp101]

Love at First Grade (18+) - 2

Single Dad!Bucky Barnes x Single Mom!Reader; Teacher!Bucky x CEO!Reader

chapter warnings: language, otherwise none

Series Masterlist

“I told you, Maria, either Tony and Stark Industries help us out with this deal or it doesn’t happen… Tony’s not afraid of this partnership he just wants me to beg. And he knows that I. Do not. Beg. Now set up the appointment,” you barked into the phone. 

You were already feeling the start of a migraine when you heard Avery’s quiet voice, “you forgot to say please, mommy.”

Your head whipped around, your eyes softening immediately after landing on your daughter, she’d already gotten herself dressed for the first day of school. She was wearing her favorite pink unicorn shirt that you got her, it may have something to do with the fact you said it had power that would make her brave and strong. It seemed to be just what Avery needed to hear when she realized she’d be going to a class with a new teacher and new students. 

“Please, Maria. We need this partnership to secure the deal. Just do what you can,” you finished firmly, hanging up the phone in the process and turning to face your daughter. 

What is it with kids looking like their father? You carried her for nine months, you made a bed next to the toilet for half of that, your body grew and shifted to grow her. And the universe had the audacity to have her come into the world with most of her father’s features. She was the only good thing Brock Rumlow had contributed to your marriage. Luckily, you had insisted on her last name being L/N so that your company’s future involved her, not Rumlow. This added more fuel to the fire. 

What made the situation even more lucky was that you had signed an extensive prenup with Brock when the two of you had gotten engaged. You didn’t see it then, you were head over heels with the smooth talking, flirtatious man. It took a few years of marriage and one child later to find out it was all a con. Especially when you walked in on him fucking the maid on your five thousand dollar couch. You settled on a custody agreement in the divorce, allowing Brock occasional weekend visits with Avery. He never showed. She was four. 

Some would say you have no weaknesses. In fact, you knew the reputation you’d garnered. To the rest of the world you were Y/N L/N, ruthless business executive and CEO of L/N industries who made men and women alike weep and kneel at your feet. Your friends and immediate family knew the truth. Your soft spot was and always would be Avery.  

“Thank you for reminding me, Avery,” you said softly, holding your arms out. Her little eyes lighting up and a smile forming on her face as she ran across the living room to give you a big hug. Your eyes filled with tears as you took in your daughter. She was a small little thing, just a little bit smaller than most six year olds, but man was she the cutest thing you’d ever laid eyes on. 

“I see you’ve got your big girl shirt on,” you stated with a soft look, a grin beginning to appear on your lips as Avery’s smile grew larger at the reference to her “magic bravery.” “Are you gonna be mama’s big girl at school today? Make new friends and be nice for your teacher?” you asked, running your hand lightly over Avery’s back as she nodded in response. 

Where Avery got her shyness from confused you. For a child with two of the most extroverted parents she sure made up for it with her introversion. There was nothing wrong with that though and you respected her decisions. Brock on the other hand would fuss at her if she didn’t speak to one of his colleagues or if she didn’t want to hug one of his family members. Just one of the other continually compounding reasons your marriage ended up in divorce. You would never force Avery to hug anyone she didn’t want to and the only time you would nudge her to speak to someone was if it were important. When she got over her shyness…that’s when you saw yourself in your daughter. Her attitude?? A copy and paste of your own. 

“Alright sweet girl, Uncle Sam is gonna be here soon to take us to school. You gonna tell him how excited you are?” You asked while patting her leg, your sign it was time to get up and help her put her shoes on. Avery nodded her head as she grabbed her pink converse and she began babbling all about what she wanted to do at school and how she hoped she’d make new friends. 

On the way to school she spoke animatedly to Sam. You and Sam had been best friends for years, ever since college really. He had taken over the role as your executive assistant and was in charge of handling your meetings and getting you to and from places on time. He preferred to drive you and Avery though. The second she was born he’d been wrapped around her tiny finger. He’d also been the one to attempt to wake you from Brock’s spell. Well, Sam and Wanda both tried. Nothing seemed to work just right until that night you saw for yourself just how uncommitted he was to your marriage. A marriage you’d been trying to salvage for years to, obviously, no avail. 

“Alright miss priss one and miss priss two, we’re here,” Sam announced as he pulled the car to stop. That seemed to put a halt to Avery’s excitement, she attached herself to your leg like a koala to a tree. A small frown appeared on your face, she was acting more skittish than normal. 

“Aves, tell Uncle Sam you’ll see him after school,” you prompted giving her a little nudge, hoping it would make her release her grip. But all she did was mumble “bye Uncle Sam” under her breath. 

You bent down to her level and made her initiate contact by lightly pulling her chin up. You could see the start of tears welling in her eyes. The sight making your heart begin to shatter. You took a deep breath, I swear kindergarten wasn’t even this hard you thought to yourself, before asking, “Avery Claire L/N. You. Are brave. You are strong. You are a L/N. What’s got you so scared baby?”

Avery’s lip wobbled as she whispered her response. “What if nobody likes me…and I don’t make any friends?” 

That sound? It was your heart shattering. You pulled your daughter close to your chest and tried not to let her see your tears. After discretely wiping your eyes you held onto her shoulders, looked her in the eyes and said, “Baby, anyone would be lucky to be your friend. You are a great person, you’re so smart. Not everyone is going to like everyone and that’s okay. All we can do is be nice to them and hope that they’re nice in return.” 

“Is that how you make all your friends at work, mommy?” Her question caused you to wince. Because that definitely was NOT how you made friends…but maybe you should listen to your own advice. Another time, we have to go, your inner monologue started up again but your daughter was waiting for your reply so you just responded with a nod of your head and a small smile, her shy one returning in response. The two of you headed to the office to get her teacher assignment. 

Mr. Barnes’ classroom was located at the end of the first grade hall and a line of students and parents extended out his door as he greeted the students and introduced himself to the parents. As the line got shorter and shorter, Avery clung tighter and tighter to your leg until the two of you were in front of Mr. Barnes. 

His attention was on Avery. Yours could not have been anywhere else except on him. He was gorgeous. The most beautiful man you had ever seen. Brock Rumlow was attractive when you met, still was except his cheating brought him down to a zero, but this Mr. Barnes? You wanted to cling to him like Avery was clinging to you. You bent down and whispered in Avery’s ear, “remember sweet girl, you are strong. You are brave. Say hi to Mr. Barnes like you practiced okay?” This prompted her to look up but immediately hide her face into your arm. The second he knelt down to her level? You were done. 

Damn. All it takes is one ounce of attention to my kid from a hot man and I’m already down bad?? I NEED to get laid. NOT HELPING BRAIN. Oh shit Avery’s retracting back. 

After introducing himself, Avery turned and looked at you, you gave her a nod of encouragement and a nudge of your hand and she turned around, puffed her chest out and shook her teachers hand with the most confidence a six year old could muster, making you snicker behind your hand. 

When she finally decided she wanted to go to class that was it. She was giving your legs a quick squeeze and throwing a “love you” to the wind before running into the classroom to meet her new friends. The introduction between you and Mr. Barnes felt…tense to say the least. It was like the second he heard your full name he froze. 

Damn. We really need to work on that…

You wanted to talk more but the next thing you knew your phone was ringing. It was Maria. You knew she was calling for the Odinson deal and that it was a call you needed to take. You bid your goodbye to Mr. Barnes and took off down the hallway, not even looking back. 

By the time you got to the car Sam was waiting for you patiently, but the second he saw the look on your face after getting off the phone he asked, “what’s got you all hot and bothered, little mama?”

You took a deep breath trying to calm yourself after the phone call and from being the mere presence of that gorgeous hunk of teacher. Then you answered, “I want to climb Avery’s teacher like a fucking tree, Sam.” All Sam could do was cackle and throw his head back in response. 

This is gonna be a long fucking year. 

taglist:

@youlightmeupfinn

@la-undercover-latina

@jackiehollanderr

@fab-notfat

[voraciousvore]

Boarding School for Giants (1/25)

Author's Note: I decided to share one of my stories on here. Admittedly, it's not my best work, and I've improved a lot since I wrote it, but it remains one of my most popular (and is a shorter and tamer story). Hope you guys enjoy! :)

------Chapter 1------

I was angry at the world. And I had good reason to be. My dad had left a long time ago, when I was a small child—just walked out one day for cigarettes and never came back. He left behind a gaping hole in my soul that would never be filled. My mother, too, suffered from that same void: She filled it with alcohol, or at least tried to, as much as a bottomless pit can be filled. Occasionally she could pull herself together enough, for my sake, to get a low-paying job to support us and keep us fed. Inevitably, though, she would slip back into old habits, and be consumed by the bottle again. 

I was the poster child for teenage angst. I wore black nail polish and black lipstick and heavy eyeshadow with mascara. I dyed my dark hair with streaks of color and cut it in crazy, edgy styles. I had ear piercings and a nose piercing and even a badass tattoo of the grim reaper with a skull on my upper thigh that I got with a fake ID (don’t tell my mom). As for my clothing, I usually went for a goth or punk aesthetic: lacy black corsets with short skirts and tights, ripped-up skinny jeans, big black boots, messy crop tops with spaghetti straps. Anything black with buckles or spikes was my jam. I liked black because my heart was black. 

My behavior mirrored my outer appearance. I played the role of the bad kid pretty well. I always talked back to my teachers and acted up in class. I smoked weed in the girl’s bathroom during lunch and cigarettes behind the school. My grades weren’t terrible, because I wasn’t a complete moron, but I certainly didn’t try very hard. I snuck out of the house on weekends late at night to attend wild parties, although I refused to drink alcohol because I didn’t want to be like my mother. I made out with bad boys, whom I knew all too well would use me and break my heart and leave me just like my daddy did. 

The relationship I had with my mom, admittedly, wasn’t the best. She worked odd hours, so she wasn’t around much anyways. Sometimes she would bring home men that might stay for a little while, but none of them could replace my dad. She couldn’t handle my unruliness and didn’t know how to discipline me or give me boundaries. We would get into shouting matches with each other a lot, where we yelled past each other more than listening to each other. I knew all her weaknesses, and would intentionally say hurtful things to make her cry. I told her she was a terrible mother and she was the reason Dad left and nobody would ever love her again. I would regret my words later, but the rage and sadness I felt inside me was hard to control. 

Today was the day where the tension finally snapped, and everything came crashing down. I had been having an unusually crummy day, and I was in a bad mood. I flunked my chemistry test—not that I really cared, but it still made me feel stupid. The other girls in my class were teasing me and telling me I was an idiot, and I didn’t like that. I was walking through the hallway to my next class when Billy the Bully, as I called him, spotted me and zeroed in on his prey like a bloodhound. I had spurned his advances once, finding him to be a contemptible wretch, and ever since he had made it his mission to belittle and humiliate me as much as possible. Since I had rejected him, he insisted I was an ugly lesbian. I was not in the mood for his bullshit today. He pushed me hard into a locker, laughed, and strolled off. 

The coals burning inside me ignited. Billy the Bully was going down. I chased after him and punched him hard in the back of the head, knocking him to the ground, and kicked him in the ribs a couple of times for good measure. That’d teach him to mess with me. Unfortunately for me, I hadn’t noticed the principal walking down the hall, who was now gaping at me, appalled. It didn’t matter that Billy always harassed me, and that he had initiated the confrontation. The principal had only seen my violence. Despite fights breaking out all the time in the schoolyard, our school had a “zero tolerance” policy on the books for violent actions. Not to mention, I was sure they were more than happy to find an excuse to get rid of a troublesome rebel like me. I was swiftly expelled. 

Needless to say, when my mom came home from work and learned what happened from the school, she blew up at me. As usual, we yelled past each other until we were both out of breath and red in the face. I stormed out of the house and took a walk to cool down, smoking a cigarette as I went. To be honest, even though I felt justified in what I had done, I regretted putting my mom through more stress.  She was always failing me, but I figured she still loved me and cared about me. I was disappointing her with my bad behavior. I felt like such a failure. 

Reflecting on my actions didn’t change the consequences, however. I had been kicked out of school, and now we would need to transfer me to a new school. I wasn’t sure how to feel, whether I should be nervous or optimistic. Maybe I needed a fresh start. My old school sucked anyways, and was lousy with bullies and haters. I hated school. Why did I have to go in the first place? I couldn’t think of any other high schools that were close by in our area. 

When I returned home, my mom was making phone calls, trying to place me in a new school. Her eyes were red and puffy as she massaged her temple with her fingers. I tiptoed past her, slunk over to my room, and threw myself on my bed. I slapped on a pair of old headphones and blasted some death metal into my ears to drown out my thoughts. Somehow, the sound of wild demonic screaming and electric guitars always helped to calm down the boiling hatred inside me. I started to drift off to sleep. 

“EREN!” my mom screamed my name, startling me awake over the sound of my music. I took off my headphones, irritated. 

“WHAT?!” I shouted back with a disgruntled scowl. 

“Pack your things,” my mother demanded. “None of the schools nearby are willing to take you in, and I can’t deal with you anymore. You’re going to boarding school to learn some discipline.” 

“Boarding school? Are you freaking kidding me right now?” I balked. I was incredulous. Mom was trying to get rid of me. I flipped the script on her and acidly retorted, “Well, fine then! I didn’t want to be around you anymore either!” I rolled over in my bed and refused to look at her, facing the wall instead in defiance. She paused for a moment, as if wanting to say something, then sighed and exited the room, closing the door gently behind her.  

I huffed and sulked for a while. Boarding school. Unbelievable. Scoffing to myself, I began to gather up my things, tossing clothes, school supplies, and some other miscellaneous articles carelessly into my backpack and a duffel bag. I didn’t have a whole lot to bring. We were poor, so it’s not like I had a ton of luxury items in my possession to pack. I prepared for bed and flopped down on my mattress, deep in thought. I wondered what boarding school was like. Maybe it would be better to get away from it all, to be far away from everything that was tormenting me. My mom wouldn’t be around to hassle me at least. How bad could it be? 

The next morning, I dragged myself out of bed and threw on some clean clothes. I hadn’t slept well, since I had been haunted by my nagging thoughts most of the night. I ate a bowl of cereal and drank some orange juice for breakfast, then decided I ought to at least make myself look nice if it was going to be my first day at a new school. I hauled myself to the bathroom and washed, did my make-up, brushed my teeth, and styled my hair with some hair gel. Much better. 

I grabbed my bags and placed them in the trunk of our beater of a car. Rather than sit in the front seat alongside my mother, I opted to sit in the back instead, sprawling my legs out along the back seat. My mom pursed her lips in disapproval but didn’t say anything. She hopped into the front seat, and after a couple of tries the starter kicked in and the old car coughed to life. The car crawled out of the driveway and stumbled off, leaving a nasty brown puff of smog in its wake. 

We drove for a while in silence. I played on my phone and occasionally looked out the window at the bland scenery passing by. We lived in a rural area, surrounded by farmland, so there wasn’t much to see other than fields of corn and wheat, grain silos and barns, and fenced-off land for cows or horses. It was a serene and pastoral paradise, but I had lived with these things my whole life so I wasn’t very impressed. The density of the buildings gradually increased as we entered more populated areas. 

After a couple of hours, I started to get restless. “Where are we going? How far away is this place?” I questioned, finally breaking the silence. 

“About that...” my mother said. She trailed off and failed to finish her sentence, as if she were afraid to tell me. 

“Well?” I asked, a note of irritation in my voice. 

She sighed. “I guess it’s better if I tell you now, so you don’t freak out when we get there. We’re almost at the drop-off point anyways.” 

“Freak out?” I was becoming increasingly baffled. “Why would I freak out? What’s going on here?” I raised my voice as I spoke. 

“This isn’t an ordinary boarding school.” She paused dramatically, letting the words sink in. “I needed to find a place we could afford, and a place that could handle your misbehaving and keep you in check. This school is planning to become an integration school, and they’re looking for students like you to join, so they offered me a substantial subsidy to sign you up.” 

“Students... like me?” I was lost. “Why would they want a troublemaker like me? What do you mean by an ‘integration school?’ What is that?” 

Before she could answer, our car was engulfed in shadow. I peered out the window and my jaw dropped to the floor. We were driving toward a massive wall, constructed of great stone bricks of an impossible size. The wall must have been hundreds of feet tall, and blocked out the sun as we approached. The surrounding buildings and trees looked like little models and toys by comparison. We pulled up to the wall and parked in a vacant lot. My mom, rather than explaining what was going on, got out of the car and removed my bags from the trunk. I stayed in my seat, refusing to budge. I was very confused, and even a little intimidated. 

My mother opened the passenger door and looked at me expectantly. “Come on. Get out.” I just stared back at her. Nothing had been explained. I didn’t want to go. I was getting an uneasy, sick feeling in the pit of my stomach. 

She crossed her arms and tapped her foot impatiently. Realizing I wasn’t going to win this fight, I begrudgingly got out of the car and followed her to a normal-sized door that was embedded in the enormous wall. She opened the door and we walked into a short, gloomy passageway that tunneled through the thick wall to the other side. As we walked through the darkness, I cleared my throat and tried one last time to finesse some information out of her. 

“Mom... please. Tell me what this is,” I pleaded. I couldn’t stop my voice from cracking slightly. Genuine fear was starting to trickle into my chest. The whole situation was very strange and surreal. 

We reached the door at the end of the tunnel. Sunlight bled through the cracks around the door, framing it with bright light in the musty darkness. My mom placed her hand on the door handle and exhaled slowly. She gazed over at me sadly. Her face was pinched up, as if she were trying to hold back strong emotions. 

“On the other side of this huge wall... is the giant side of town. You’re going to a boarding school for giants.” 

2nd Chapter: https://www.tumblr.com/voraciousvore/731600807530823680/boarding-school-for-giants-225?source=share

Table of Contents:

Ch. 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20 | 21 | 22 | 23 | 24 | 25

Writing Masterpost

[almanacrat]

Holier Than Thou [E. Munson]

Summary: The preacher's daughter has always been pure and unmistakably good, but meeting the leader of the Hellfire Club may change her ways.

Warnings: Swearing, religious manipulation

-

Y/n was unlike many of the girls her age. She didn't fool around with guys or do anything so daring as cheat on a quiz. She had never been on a date with a guy due to her father watching her like a hawk and speaking against dating. Each time Y/n would ask her father about the dating rule, he would still insist she was too young, even at the age of seventeen. Despite how simple it may seem, being the preacher's child was difficult. Church twice a week, nightly prayers, rants fueled by fire and brimstone, and daily bible reading made life exhausting. 

Y/n set her book bag down by her chair, prepared to listen intently to the class lecture just like she listened to her father’s sermons every Sunday. Today; however, the teacher did not begin a lecture but instead began writing names on the board. Two by two, names were written next to each other. Students gossiped amongst each other about what the names meant. Perhaps they were in trouble? Or perhaps they were going to receive a new seating chart. 

Y/n was perfectly happy with where she sat; the left side of the classroom in the second row. Next to her sat Ramona Andrews, a girl with a mediocre personality but enough kindness to leave Y/n alone. Y/n didn't want to sit next to someone who would make fun of her or try to cheat off her homework.

“These are your assigned partners for the upcoming project. I will hand out the rubric for the project at the end of class, but right now I want to explain it to you.” Mrs. Weatherall spoke, her hair done in a bun which was beginning to unravel. 

As the teacher droned on, Y/n scanned the board for her name, praying she would have a good partner. 

Darn it, She thought as she read the name next to hers.

Eddie Munson. 

Just then, a body plopped down in the seat next to hers. Eddie himself sat to face Y/n, a smug smirk on his face. 

“Looks like we’re partners.” He smiled mischievously. 

“Looks like it.” Y/n forced a small smile, trying to hide her despair.

“I had to take this class last year and I still have my project leftover from that, so we could take a look at it if you want. Use it for inspiration.” He suggested in a surprisingly helpful manner.

“Oh, uh, sure. That would be great. What did you get on it?” Y/n responded.

“I got an F, but it was a high F! Right on the cusp of being a D.” Eddie announced proudly.

“Yeah, we can look at it. Maybe use it as a guide for what not to do.” Y/n mumbled under her breath, eyes fixating on the rings he wore. 

“Was that sass? Coming from the preacher's kid?” Eddie grinned, teasing her.

“I’m sorry, I didn't mean to be rude, I just-” Y/n sputtered, afraid she had been unkind.

“It’s okay, Y/n. I was just teasing you. I thought it was funny.” 

“Okay.” Y/n said softly, still feeling guilty for being rude.

“Lighten up. I’m not gonna bite your head off.” Eddie twirled a pencil between his fingers, doodling a little smiley face on their rubric. 

Y/n decided to start working, and to her surprise, Eddie wanted to help. Their project required them to create a presentation on one of the scientists of the 17th century, and their contribution to the scientific community. After flipping through the textbook Y/n made the decision to present on Robert Boyle, as Eddie insisted he didn't care who they presented on. 

Eddie would write facts and snippets of information then slide the notecards to Y/n, who would subtly correct them while he wasn't looking. By the time the bell rang they had a stack of notecards with incorrect information on some which Y/n could not fix in time. 

“Wicked work. We make a great team.” Eddie commented as he handed her the stack of notecards.

“See you tomorrow, Eddie.” Y/n murmured as she exited the room. 

Y/n was still a bit scared of Eddie, or rather, she was scared of how enchanting he was. The little jokes he made throughout the class had her resting the urge to giggle. His hair framed his face perfectly, even if it was horrendously frizzy. His round eyes seemed to see her far better than even the eyes of god had, and she couldn't tell if she loved it or hated it.

Eddie was quite entranced with Y/n. He had always seen her walking through the hallways, quiet as a mouse. He thought she was the most gorgeous girl he had set eyes on, but refrained from speaking to her all these years because of her father. Eddie knew the pastor disapproved of people like him; heavy metal listeners and DND players with long hair. He knew she would never go for him, but he still felt his heart beat a little faster when he thought of her.

-

Y/n shivered as she walked through the parking lot, the brisk air nipping at her skin. She got frustrated with herself for not bringing a warm jacket. Her house was a ten minute walk from the school, and she began to walk begrudgingly when a large van pulled up beside her. Loud music rang out from inside and in the driver’s seat sat the one and only Eddie Munson. 

“Do you need a ride?” He offered.

“Oh, no, that's okay. I don't want to inconvenience you. It’s only a ten minute walk.” Y/n replied, despite truly wanting to get in. The cold air still stirred around her, penetrating her cardigan.

“It's not an inconvenience, and you’re shivering. Come on, I don't want to be responsible for you getting hypothermia.”

Y/n contemplated her options for a few seconds, then opened the door and hopped into the passengers seat. It was warm in the van and Eddie turned down the music as she entered. 

“Thanks, Eddie.”

“It’s the least I could do. You’re the one helping me get a good grade on this project.”

“You’re helping. You're doing a good part of the work.” Y/n replied, admiring the way his rings glinted in the light.

“You’re the one correcting my work.” 

“You saw that?” Y/n cringed internally, wishing he hadn't seen it.

“Yep. You write pretty fast, but you're not as discreet as you think you are.” Eddie smirked.

“What’s this song?” Y/n asked after a moment of silence. 

“This song, my dear, is Highway to Hell by ACDC.” Eddie tapped the radio.

“Oh.” Y/n was clearly taken aback by the name, not expecting to hear a song with such a name.

“Why do you ask?” Eddie wondered.

“I don't know. Kinda catchy I guess.” Y/n mumbled the last part, ashamed to admit that she enjoyed the song. Songs like that were never allowed in her house. When they did play music, it was gospel music and light-hearted tunes from years ago. 

“What was that last part?” Eddie questioned.

“I said it was kinda catchy.” Y/n repeated, her head hung abashedly.

“No way. No fucking way! The preacher’s kid likes Highway to Hell?” Eddie laughed in disbelief.

“I never said I liked it.” Y/n protested, but Eddie wouldn't have it.

“You didn't have to say that. You said it was catchy, which means you like it.” Eddie smiled widely. 

“Please don't tell anyone, Eddie.” Y/n pleaded, horrified that her father would find out.

“Oh, I’m gonna tell everyone, princess.” Eddie leaned closer to her as he smirked evilly. He noticed her eyes getting wide with anxiety, her eyebrows furrowed in distress at his words. “I’m kidding, Y/n. No one will know. Our secret, okay?” Eddie soothed Y/n, holding out his pinky to her.

“Promise?” Y/n looked up at him with big doe eyes, still rattled from the image of her father finding out that she liked such a vulgar song.

“Promise.” Eddie spoke. With that, Y/n took his pinky in hers, holding it there for a few seconds before releasing it. 

“Thanks again for the ride. I’ll see you tomorrow.” Y/n said as she got out of the van which was parked haphazardly in front of her house.

“If I decide to come to class tomorrow.” Eddie spoke, making Y/n give him a slightly agitated look. “I’ll be there tomorrow, Y/n.” Eddie sighed, detesting the idea of going to school. 

-

Y/n quietly shut the door to her house, setting her book bag down by the coat rack which stood next to the door. 

“Who drove you home?” Her father asked harshly as he rounded the corner.

“Just someone from school.” Y/n murmured, eyes looking at the floor to avoid her father's iron gaze. 

“Who from school? I want a name.”

“Melissa. Melissa Hart.” Y/n felt bad for lying, but she knew he would never approve of someone like Eddie driving her home. “She’s in my English class.”

“Very well then. I’ve heard she’s a kind girl. Her mother comes in to pray on Sundays.” He commented, his eyes still boring into her.

“She is very nice.” Y/n desperately tried to end the conversation, wanting nothing more than to escape upstairs. At last, her father left the room and she darted to her bedroom. Y/n slumped down on her bed, her conscience beginning to gnaw at her for lying to her father. She had to, she told herself. She had to or her father would have gone berserk for no reason. Still, despite her guilt she could not shake the interest that she had in Eddie Munson. 

[touchoflaughter]

Ok guys I need help- I fucked up completely and I need some really good advice 🥴

So most of you know my classmates by now (I wrote plenty irl stories about them ⟪ part 1, part 2, part 3 ⟫). Summarily: I'm the only girl in this man domain (learning a craft) but I'm getting along really well with the boys. We mess around all the time and have lots of play fights where I manage to whoop most of the guys asses due to my long-lasting experience in martial arts. But lately they discovered a fatal weakness of mine- and they overuse it completely!

GANG TICKLING is the worst

So after New Year's Eve Phil promised me his New Year resolution is to not tease me anymore and I actually believed him (don't ask me how I could be this naive)- so... it didn't even take him 10 minutes to start his poking attacks again, followed by countless more.

That was two days ago. In the meantime he somehow managed to win all the other guys over! His efforts seem to pay off finally...

Let me tell you about only one situations from today: (There are too many actually but this is the worst one so far)

I not only get attacked continual (mostly sneaky and from behind... these cowards) but also had one of our classmates coming up to me, when I tried to fill in an important document. Let's call him Aiden.

His Hands formed claws and an evil smirk appeared on his face. I sighed and shook my head in a defensive way: "Don't! I've had enough." (You gotta now it was 4 pm and I got tickle attacked all damn day. There was no embarrassment left. I lost. I didn't care about my tough facade anymore.) Before he could even answer me, Phil stood up from his desk and was right on the spot (surprise 🙄).

"Oh yeah! You gotta tickle her like this!", Phil showed him a pinching movement with is fingers and grinned. "Wait, let me show you!"

"NO!", I protested insistent.

"Yeah I think you'll have to show me in order for me to get it right.", Aiden played along and smirked at least as much as Phil who came closer quickly.

"Godammit! Don't!", I didn't want to but I had to stand up from my desk to make a few quick steps backwards.

"What's the matter shorty- can't take it?", Phil mocked while Aiden laughed at his teasing. Then he made some quick steps forward so I turned around and ran. Yes, I ran for my dear life. I couldn't take another attack with others watching and enjoying the show!

But I straight bumped into Joey who was working next to me. I tried to at least hide behind him, hoping he'd defend me maybe. We usually get each other in deep shit but if it really matters, we're there for one another.

Not this time obviously- ugh 😩

He turned around and smiled down at me, shaking his head like a disappointed parent whose daughter got in trouble again. Aiden and Phil caught up to us and immediately pounced on me.

"Johehey! Heheeelp!", I screamed helpless and in panic but Joey didn't even took this into consideration.

While Phil went for my ribs at once, Aiden did his best to capture my arms and stop me from breaking free. Joey came to ACTUALLY HELP him so both got a free hand to tickle me. (I'll get him good for this betrayal!!)

IT WAS THE WORST you guys. I couldn't help but laugh and scream and try to shake them off without success. The whole class was literally forced to follow the action. I noticed a few comments but I was too deflected to actually get what they were saying.

But just wait! The most embarrassing part is yet to come: They didn't stop until our teacher entered the room to check on us... only to find us like that:

Three grown men, kneeling on the floor, tickling a young woman to insanity with a bunch of guys standing around them, watching and commenting the scene.

Our teacher seemed to be overburdened by the situation but managed to instruct them to get off of me. He knew we're friends so at least we didn't have to explain it was not a sexual assault but oh god that was one of the most embarrassing moments of my life...

Even after that they did not stop! It seemed they developed a taste for it... to see the good: I got two more days left. Only two more days. Can't get any worse than that, right? Right? 😰

[jedi-bird]

For some reason the rain today reminded me of a school memory that was pretty traumatizing at the time.

Between the ages of 7 and 11, I went to a tiny little religious private school. The largest class I ever had there was 22 total students, the smallest 15 (which was actually two combined grades). Once a month, always on Wednesdays, we had an early release day so the teachers could have a staff meeting and get caught up on grading and whatever other things they needed to do.

I loved those days. Honestly, what kid wouldn't? But what made them special was that my grandma would pick me up and we'd go eat lunch someplace (usually McDonald's), then we'd run errands before going home. I looked forward to it; even though I lived with my grandparents, getting to spend a weekday with them felt magical.

So our monthly Wednesday half day arrives. It's raining. Pouring actually. Noon hits and we're released to go home. Now, not ever kid went home early those days. Some had parents working who couldn't pick them up. Usually the playground attendant would watch them until the meeting was done and then one teacher would stay until the typical end of day release with them. This is important.

So the bell rings and out I go, with my backpack and my wind breaker (because we couldn't afford real rain jackets and these were usually good enough to get us to and from places before getting soaked). I hurry out to where my grandma is usually parked waiting for me.

Only she's not there.

Maybe she's late. Maybe traffic was really bad. She's never not picked me up before. She'll be there.

I say goodbye to my friends who are leaving, slowly getting soaked and starting to shiver because it's cold. A half an hour goes by.

My grandma still isn't there.

I'm starting to cry now. I'm scared. What if something happened to her? What if she wasn't coming? What if no one was coming?

Finally, someone must have told the office that I was still out there. The vice principal came out and told me I had to go back to class. "But I'm waiting for my grandma."

"Well, when she comes she can come to the office and we'll go get you. Now go back to class."

By now I'm sobbing. "But I don't have any lunch!"

One of my classmates is coming out at the time. She hears me and hands me a ticket. "You can use my lunch token!" she said before hopping into her mom's van and leaving.

"See? Wasn't that nice of her? Now go get your lunch from the cafeteria and then get back in class. If you insist on staying out here, I'll have to write you up."

Now, I was the type of kid who never got in trouble, period, let alone at school. This in no way, shape, or form made me feel any better. Still crying my heart out, drenched to the bone, I said, "but I don't know where the cafeteria is."

"Oh that's all right. I'll show you."

The cafeteria at our school was a paid program. You had to pay in advance monthly for the tokens (actually just paper tickets much like raffle ones). This was a private school, so it was already expensive. We couldn't afford to buy into the lunch program there, so my grandma usually packed me a lunch. The reason I didn't have one that day was because she was going to pick me up early. So off we go, the vice principal chatting excitedly as I stumbled along, a weird numbness starting to take over.

"I have one more for you!" she sang as we walked into the tiny kitchen that had no lights on. The woman standing on the other side of the counter just scowled at me. "I've never seen her in my life."

"She's not normally part of the program but she's got a ticket today. Now, get your food and hurry back to class!"

I hand over my ticket, hands shaking. It's freezing in the kitchen.

"This is wet," the lady said in disgust.

"It's raining." I didn't know what else to say.

She kind of huffed, threw some food on a tray and sent me away, watching me suspiciously the whole time.

I'm not crying anymore. I'm too numb for that. I make it back to my classroom, dripping water all over the floor as everyone still there turns to stare at me. "I thought you were going home?" one of my friends asked, not unkindly.

"No one showed up."

He just nodded and went back to playing games with the other kids still there.

I sat at my desk and just kind of stared at the food. It was a hamburger plate. The bun was wet from the rain and had no condiments, but was otherwise okay. The burger had clearly been cooked the week before and reheated; it was a weird combination of burned and damp. The lettuce was still frozen, as were the pickles. The tomato slice was green in places. The tater tots were just wet and smelled funny. I ate a bit of the lettuce and the all the pickles and just sat and cried until the last bell of the day sounded.

What if my grandma still wasn't there? What if she was gone? What if I was all alone. It would take me years to realize that I had some pretty severe abandonment issues and anxiety; this incident should have clued my family in that something was wrong.

My friend walked me out, even offering to let my hold his hand even though we were at that age where cooties were a real concern. I'm not crying but it's a close thing.

And there, waiting in her usual spot, was my grandma's gold thunderbird, the window down so she could wave to me. I ran to the car, climbed inside, and just lost it. I was crying to hard that I couldn't even talk. She tried to calm me down and finally just had to sit and wait for the tears to pass.

"You didn't come. I waited and waited and you weren't here and I was scared!"

"They told me not to come. The office called me and said the early release was canceled. They said they'd give you lunch."

"It was frozen."

I don't know how many times she apologized that afternoon and in the days that followed. I was never mad at her. I was scared and confused and upset that no one had told me that they told her not to come. That they had lied about canceling the day. I couldn't understand why adults would do that. They were supposed to keep us safe, so what was with the lies?

My grandma never missed another early release no matter what they tried to tell her. She got written permission so that I was allowed to call her any time I needed to (I think she knew, deep down, that there was an issue but she didn't have the power to do anything about it). I never trusted anyone in charge at that school after.

And to this day, I still get nervous if someone doesn't show up when they say they would. I make sure my partner has a lunch packed before leaving for work even if they're having a catered lunch that day (because a packed lunch can be saved for later but no lunch is not a good thing). I'm now very much aware of my issues and have work arounds to help mitigate them.

Today's rain brought that all back. I miss my grandma sometimes so much that it hurts. But I'll always remember her quiet rage that day, as well as her telling off the office staff the next day. That woman was quiet but very fierce.

Maybe someday I'll share more stories from that school. There's a lot of them rattling around in my head.

[invincible-selfxmade-punk]

We had rain last night for the first time in about 4 months. And of course the power went out because the power goes out here at the drop of a hat. But luckily it was not hot outside so not having the power was just a minor inconvenience and not enough to bake us alive as it has been in the past.

We have been blessed this Summer that it is incredibly mild compared to other years. And the rain cooled everything off further.

But I'm sure the heat is coming and where my husband works, at Dollar Tree, they haven't had air conditioning in the entire 3 years he's worth there. And no matter how many customer or employee complaints they get, the corporate offices in Virginia will not send anyone down to fix it even though it gets upwards of 105° during the summer here.

I was forced to pass a special ed student who had not done any work in my class for two different grading cycles. He would have failed with a 56 for the year but I was strongly advised that unless I wanted some kind of a lawsuit I needed to pass him. Which is normally what they say to us ?, but this year the head of the SPED Department said f*** that, if they fail they fail .Just give them the grade they get . So I did just THAT.

In years past, we were told no matter what grade they get in your class, change it to a 70 so they pass.

But on this kid it wasn't a question of ability it was the fact that he was not going to work and no force on Earth was going to make him do anything.

As far as Injustice is at work go though that is an extremely minor one even if it does get on my absolute last nerve as a teacher.

However they did not insist that I pass the kid who could not read or write, so at least that was a small victory but he's going to be passed over to the next grade anyway as he has been since kindergarten because no one cares.

We now have 3 days of inservice. It is standard to come back and have one day of in service to clean up our classroom verify our grades and do our finish the multitude of paperwork we have to do. We keep a running spreadsheet of every student's grades and I think I put some grades in the wrong columns so I'm going to have to go back and redo a lot I think on that today. But what we will be doing on Monday and Tuesday is anybody's yes. I would guess that maybe we are being trained on some new thing that everyone in education is hot for right now. Because you know every year a new trend comes along and they either want you to learn a new software or a new teaching style or something and just as you finally Master it they completely abandon it and get really excited about something else.

Whether or not the first thing worked is irrelevant.

This was absolutely the toughest year that I've had since I started teaching. Even teaching kids who were sentenced to get their GED and didn't want to be there was easier than teaching these 5th graders. From everything I've seen the fourth graders coming up are wonderful and sweet and kind and I hope they don't change drastically over the summer.

"The tour was over, I survived"