#Secondary School Principals

[victor-v]

i need someone to understand me, my sister's partner looks exactly like damen, he's 50 but i saw him live (and have photos of him) at 28 dressed as disney's hercules and the resemblance is uncanny. the thing is that he kinda disgusts me because of his personality and i'm...... trying to pretend to forget his face but also every time i see the polish covers i remember. shit

[girafferoyalty]

Revisiting my ace Dimitri & Mercedes headcanon for Ace Awareness Week. Here’s one for my people 🫶🏼

[missbrunettebarbie]

Tell'em who's in charge/ So they don't forget has a whole new meaning now that Uma is principal and you can hear it in her voice.

[amu-buddy]

AMU ABK High School Girls Aligarh

Brief History of AMU ABK High School Girls             ABK Union High School was founded in 1946 by AMU Students Union as Madarsa somewhere at Jamalpur. Initially the school was established with the aim to teach Urdu and impart lesson in the recitation of the Quranul Majeed to the Children of the grade IV employees of the University as well as educationally down trodden sections of the Muslim…

[reasonsforhope]

"Parents of tweens will likely be aware of the daily battle over when to give their child a smartphone. They are probably forced into discussing it over breakfast, on the school run, at bedtime – after all, no kid wants to be left out if their friends all have one.

Which is why a town in Ireland came together to devise a solution.

Parents and teachers in Greystones, County Wicklow, launched a town-wide ‘no-smartphone code’ in May, when headteachers from the town’s eight primary schools wrote to parents asking them to sign up to the ban. By coming together en masse, the thinking went, parents could do away with the peer pressure around smartphone ownership.

Now, ministers in the Irish cabinet have approved new guidelines on the banning of smartphones in school, which were brought by education minister Norma Foley on 7 November. The proposals would help parents to collectively implement smartphone bans, with government support. Ministers are also considering outlawing the sale of smartphones to all children of primary school age.

“We can already see smartphones creeping into our primary schools,” explained Rachel Harper, headteacher at St. Patrick’s school, which led on the initiative. “Parents, even at the junior end, were already getting worried about what age their kids were going to be asking for smartphones.”

Parental concerns around the dangers of smartphones are justified, according to the latest scientific research. In 2020, a systematic review of academic studies investigating smartphones, social media use and youth mental health found that, in the last 10 years, mental distress and treatment for mental health conditions had risen in parallel with the use of smartphones by children and adolescents...

There’s also a desire, said Christina Capatina, a Greystones parent whose daughters are aged 11 and nine, to prioritise face-to-face interactions over digital ones for as long as possible. “Childhood is getting shorter,” she said. “It’s really important for them to be in a place where they can be happy and enjoy being out, just being children.”

Parents in Greystones are now empowered to hold off giving their kids access to the devices until the age of 12, when they transition to secondary school in Ireland.

Eight months since the ban came in, what has its impact been? “It has completely solved the problem,” said Capatina. “Instead of having long conversations about it, this is so simple.”

The code is voluntary, so some parents have chosen not to take part, but enough have signed up to create a sense of phoneless-ness being the norm. While some in the media have argued that the code demonises technology, Harper refutes this: “We’re not against technology. We’re not against phones. We’re just simply asking them to wait till secondary school.” [Again, that's age 12 in Ireland.]

She said the launch of their no-smartphone code led to school principals all over the world getting in touch with messages of support, an indication it seems of how universal parents’ fears over childhood smartphone use are.

And with ministers now working on guidelines for communities that wish to follow in Greystones’ footsteps, Harper is proud of all she and fellow parents have achieved. “It’s nice to be an ambassador in a positive way,” she said.

-via Positive.News, November 17, 2023

[sheluvv-gambino]

“Huh, you sound British.”

pairings : e-42 miles morales x black fem!reader

summary : Being a new student is already hard, just imagine being British in high school within Brooklyn.

warnings : I put a slash between the difference of American and British words so no one is confused since I’m not actually American myself.

part 2

Switching from an English secondary school to an American high school was not something that you could say you were actually excited for.

But yet here you are sitting in your mothers car listening to ‘Bonfire’ by Childish Gambino, trying not stress over being in a totally new environment.

“Okay, we’ve arrived.” Your mum/mom said rubbing the back of your shoulder.

“I’m gonna go now, I love you.” You sigh.

“I love you too but get your arse out this car so your not late please!”

You laugh whilst unbuckling your seatbelt and getting out of the car walking towards the entrance.

Once you enter your immediately overwhelmed with the amount of loud new accents filtering the air. I mean sure you had been in New York for a few days before being introduced to the school but that doesn’t mean you were used to the variety of accents.

Making your way towards the principals office you ended up lost and having to scout the help of one your new peers.

Looking to your left you spot a fairly handsome guy with two cainrows/cornrows going down his neck, sharp jaw, and very plumed lips.

Damn, guess NYC ain’t that bad after all.

Tapping his shoulder you timidly ask “Sorry to disturb you but do you think your could show me to the principals office.”

He looked you up and down for a good thirty seconds before his focus finally set on your face.

“Huh, you sound British.”

“I mean I am from London.” You deadpan.

“Sure I’ll take you, c’mon.”

He takes off swiftly leaving you trailing behind him.

Once you finally reach the principals office

he stops and looks you dead in the eye tilting his head which ultimately makes you cast your gaze down to the floor.

“I’m Miles but I never caught your name.”

You look up and end up locking eyes.

“I’m Y/N” You smile downward.

“We’ll Y/N ion know much about British people but I hope we can get to know each other a bit more…”

And with that he walked away leaving you at the door of the principal.

Now all you have to is KNOCK.

————————

Getting halfway through the day was particularly easy except from the bombardment of questions from people you don’t even know.

Asking things about Britain like you were the Queen (R.I.P Queen Lizzy) It was like they had never heard of Google before.

Fortunately a group of girls adopted you into their circle and you were currently sitting with them at lunch.

“So how’s your day been except y’know all the weird questions?” One girl asks with a chuckle.

“We’ll it’s been a bit annoying relearning the stuff I’ve already done which by the way don’t you think it’s a bit weird that you guys do algebra for like a whole year. In England once we finish a topic we move onto the next.” You ramble with a sigh.

“Eh I mean I guess but it’s not anything new for us. Anyways since being here, have you caught your eye on anyone yet?” Another girl answers and questions.

“We’ll there was this one guy but I haven’t spotted him again since he dropped me off at the Principal’s.”

Some girls squeal in excitement at a new potential crush to gossip about.

“He was quite fit actually and he had these two braids going down. He gave a really good conversation on the way their actually.” You finish off going back to your food nonchalantly.

There must be a shift in the air because the table of girls stopped talking until someone pipes up.

“Your not talking ‘bout Miles Morales are you?!” She squeaks with widened eyes.

“We’ll yeah he said his name was Miles but he didn’t give his surname/lastname.”You start to nod.

“No way! Girls have been trying to get with him ever since we got to the school but he’s always cold and quiet around people who aren’t his friends. Girl you are so lucky.” She blurts out.

“We’ll I’m sure he was just being nice, I mean I am new.” You defend.

And with that Miles Morales walks past your table trailing behind his friends he gives a smirk and waves towards you.

Yeah, I guess you are lucky…very lucky!

[soundspeachytome]

baby fever - shohei ohtani au

summary: (i don't think this needs a summary, the title says it all lol)

word count: 10,584K

tags: fluff, mentions of sex, impregnation

other notes: midnight word vomit things~ i honestly didn't think i would be able to write something so soon after the one i posted on NYE but i'm blaming that video of shohei playing with some kids on my timeline. my thoughts have secured me a seat in hell.

enjoy and cry in delusion with me.

=====================================

Shohei couldn’t help himself but beam all the way home. He had spent his entire day surrounded by a group of kids no older than twelve years old, the youngest around five, to help facilitate the annual children sports camp at the elementary school he worked at. Being the only teacher who had played baseball during his primary and secondary years in school, he was elected by default to coach a few hours’ session of baseball basics to which he did not object. Aside from that, he also helped facilitate another few hours in assisting the lead teachers during the games like scavenger hunt, capture the flag, and water balloon dodgeball. The last one being his favorite, he was just supposed to be watching and making sure none of the kids get hurt, or if ever they do, he’d play medic when the need arises. Thankfully, his first aid skills were put to the backseat and he was joined in on the fun when one of the twelve-year old campers aimed a water gun at him. He had no choice but to retaliate. With his wide hands and arm support, he grabbed a bunch of water balloons and aimed at anyone within proximity, creating an entirely new chaos between the kids and the other teachers, too.

He had ended the day soaked and sore from all the laughing and running around trying to avoid the kids aiming at him. Thankfully, you had made sure to pack him extra clothes to change into. “Just in case you get a little too fun and get soaked in sweat,” you had said, ignoring Shohei’s initial comments on not needing extra clothes since he was not technically sleeping over for the night. But proven to be always right, he made a mental note to get you something special as a way to thank you for being, well, the best.  

After he had changed into his comfy cotton pants and white shirt, he bid goodbye to everyone at camp, especially the kids he had made friends with. They hugged him and some even gave him DIY goodbye presents (one gave him a bracelet made out of plucked flowers and laced it around his wrist), a tall kid with glasses who must be around seven years old gave him his precious Snickers bar, almost melted, and the youngest girl of the bunch clung onto his leg and tried to stop him from leaving. These short but meaningful interactions touched Shohei that he almost felt bad for leaving. 

“Will you teach us again next summer camp, Teacher?” one kid had asked.

“Hmm. Maybe, we’ll see,” Shohei beamed, eyeing the other teachers in response. If not for the lead teachers and school principal, he would not have been able to cross the schoolgate and reach his car. He waved one last goodbye to the kids who stood behind the gates and then drove away. 

He couldn’t wait to go home to you and tell you about his day. 

You were in the kitchen when you heard Shohei’s Corolla park in the garage. You continued tending to the Tsuyu broth and soba noodles that you were saving up for a warm day like this. 

While Shohei was out for camp duties the entire day, you were able to finish the flower embroidery design you had been challenged with for over a week now. Being new to the craft, you had a slightly difficult time understanding the patterns in the first place, but once you got the hang of it, you were on a roll and without realizing it, you were already done. You regretted buying only one design thinking it would take you longer to complete it, and also considering that you were the type to abandon something when you feel overwhelmed or had just simply lost the fixation, just like the few hundred other abandoned projects you started this year. This time, however, you were so accomplished that you couldn’t wait for Shohei to come home and brag. 

Upon his arrival, Shohei sees you busy in the kitchen, humming to Adele. He put his bag on the countertop and went straight to you, your back facing him. He embraced you from behind, leaning his chin on your shoulder and slightly shifted his weight against your body. 

“Hey.” 

“Hi.” You angled your face upwards to meet him and he planted a kiss straight to your lips. When you went back to what you were doing, he left kisses on the small spots on your neck and shoulder. 

“Hmm, I love soba. I was craving for this.” He murmured against your skin. He still had his arms wrapped around, waiting for you to finish and give him your full attention.

“Really? Didn’t I tell you that I’m a mind-reader?” you joked and turned the stove off and faced Shohei. 

“Yes and you are the best.” He did not waste another second and kissed you tastefully on the mouth. As soon as he got your attention, he made sure your tongue was preoccupied with his. 

You stayed like that for a few seconds. A slow summer day deserves an equally slow and hot makeout session like this. Shohei put both his hands behind your back and you had no choice but to push your body closer to him while you coiled your hands behind the nape of his neck, tugging a few strands of his thick hair.

“What’s gotten you so worked up today, love?” you asked when you separated. 

He pulled back, catching his breath and looked seriously at you. 

“Let’s start doing it, love.”

“Do what?”

“Kids. Babies. I want to put a baby on you right now.” He massaged your lower back and showered your neck with more kisses.

“So sudden?” You looked at Shohei with bewilderment. You weren’t angry or anything, just a little surprised that he had suddenly brought it up. You had always known to use oral and physical contraception ever since you started dating and like an unspoken promise, you made sure that your relationship would not bear anything both of you didn’t feel like committing to yet. But this was definitely something new. 

“I was just thinking… At camp, the kids loved playing with me… some even clung to me–like this–” he hugged you tightly in demonstration. “--and I almost choked up when I was driving away.”

“And…?”

“I played with kids the whole day, I realized that I really, really want to have kids.” He pouted.

In a way, Shohei had always been great with kids. You saw how he used to fawn over your neighbors’ kids and their tiny steps, how he’d wave to babies in strollers whenever you’d pass by them, smiling extra wide. 

“Like, I really, really, really do. We’ve been married for three years now. Don’t you think it’s time for us to get pregnant?”

You were silent the whole time, looking straight into Shohei’s face, and trying to see any hint of him joshing around but he was nothing but serious with his dead set eyes and determination.

“What are you thinking, love?” He asked, getting fidgety after seeing you were quiet for a while. 

“Are we even ready for kids? There are a lot of newer parents that get divorced after babies are born…” you trailed off. Shohei noticed your worry and decided to change the topic.

“I’m sorry, I won’t force it if you’re not comfortable.” he kissed your nose and pulled you into a tight hug. “The noodles look amazing! So much about my day, they can wait… What did you do all day without me?”

Dinner ensued and the pregnancy topic was never brought up again, much to your relief. Shohei was quite understanding and never the pushy type. He always made sure that when you both decide on anything, you were both in it, just like when he moved in with you after a year of dating, when you decided to get married a few months after, and then buying a house.

You felt no pressure whatsoever about creating a family with Shohei because he never pressured you or his family. You don’t know if you wanted kids at all. When you were single, you thought there was not a single good man left on earth but meeting Shohei had changed your mind. Maybe, with the right kind of man, it’d be possible to love and still be loved properly while having kids. So yes, maybe. Maybe one day, you’d want Shohei’s children but were waiting for the right time. You hoped maybe someday, bearing kids will not just be a reluctant maybe, but a definite, sure and unwavering yes. 

Not until Shohei’s sister came to town to visit a few days later and brought their two year old daughter in tow. Shohei was ecstatic. He had fallen in love with his niece the moment he met her. He’d carry her as much as he could when they visited, buying her presents for every occasion, sometimes even when there’s really nothing to celebrate at all.

This time, when Shohei had picked up his niece, Nora, from her trolley and into his arms, kissing her lightly on the cheek, cooing and swinging her back and forth along with their boisterous laughter ringing around the house, you felt something shifted. 

You felt the anxiety on your shoulders lift and leave your body, leaving you with an immense sensation of love and happiness. You sat at the dinner table watching Shohei play peekaboo with Nora while she sits on his lap, and couldn’t help but imagine Shohei carrying a baby–your offspring–while feeding her, or humming it to sleep. It sounds like a beautiful dream, doesn’t it? 

Maybe, maybe, maybe.

After they had left and the house was silent again, you cornered Shohei in the kitchen, who was loading the dishes in the dishwasher. He was humming a Cocomelon nursery rhyme which you assumed was the same song he had played on his ipad with Nora. 

“Shohei.” You tugged his arm and looked at him straight in the eyes.

“Yes, love?” 

“Let’s do it.” 

“Do what now?” He said mindlessly, pulling his sleeves down and shrugged off the kitchen apron.

“Fuck a baby into me, I said.” You raised your voice, unsure where to look.

It took him a few seconds to understand but when it finally dawned on him, he wasted no time and carried you into his arms bridal style. 

When he pushed you onto the bed, kissing you hungrily, both of you still half-undressed, he suddenly pulled back and asked, “Wait, is this your new kink now? Seeing me with kids?”

“What, no.” Your hands busied on the buckle of Shohei’s belt and when that ordeal was done, had pulled his boxers down to touch him. Like a knee jerk reaction, his hips jerked forward to your hand. 

Definitely.

“Hmm, this is going to be a long night,” he whispered, biting at the garter of your underwear and pulling it down with his teeth. “Are you sure you’re ready for this?”

Absolutely.

“I’ve never been so sure.” 

You pushed yourself up on your elbows and met Shohei’s lips, while he slowly entered you, both of you adjusting to the size and feeling. He started thrusting in and out of you hungrily, as if on a mission, determined to fill you to the brim. And you, on the brink of pleasure and chasing your high, you couldn’t help but moan Shohei’s name and said, yes, yes, yes, over and over. Like an assurance statement, like a promise.

This is my yes, unquestionably, a hundred times over.

[transrevolutions]

asoiaf modern au where agot takes place in the most dysfunctional secondary school ever. arya has an accommodation plan for her adhd that gives her permission to draw in class but cersei (who is the kind of teacher that hates having to follow inclusion policies) gets mad and throws away one of arya's wolf oc drawings except that particular drawing was actually sansa's and when sansa finds out she gets so pissed off that she dumps joffrey over it. joffrey gets cersei to try and get ned removed from his position of assistant principal even though he's basically running the school at that point because robert baratheon (the real principal) keeps getting drunk when he's supposed to be working.

jon joins an after-school self-defense/outdoor survival skills club and somehow ends up in a weird leadership role because he's one of the only ones who knows what he's doing. tyrion shows up sometimes to try and sell him shitty weed. arya is always begging him to let her come even though she's still under the age limit. daenerys is a transfer student who spends every single one of her classes doing wings of fire rp on scratch.mit.edu but still manages to get good grades so a bunch of the teachers hate her because they're convinced she's cheating.

robert baratheon gets fired after the school board gets an anonymous tip about his drinking on the clock. the anonymous tipper is actually cersei because she's mad that he won't let joffrey run for student council because he's gotten in trouble for bullying too much. when ned finds out about this cersei gets him fired too which makes arya mad so she makes jon teach her mma so she can beat up joffrey. catelyn gets so upset about ned getting fired that she convinces herself that tyrion was in on it bc he's cersei's sister despite the fact that cersei fully and actually hates his guts and tyrion wasn't even remotely involved because he was too busy trying to hide from jon's uncle benjen after he caught him trying to sell jon weed.

robb stark (low level admin position but everyone thinks he's just there bc nepotism which is actually sorta true) tries to get the rest of admin to band together to expose cersei but most of them don't give a fuck so he has to try and network with their longtime rival school to try and find allies. he also may or may not have introduced bran to the online furry community and he really really doesn't want ned or catelyn to find out. daenerys somehow manages to get a whole squad of jocks to basically be her personal bodyguards after she introduces them to wings of fire and they get hooked.

catelyn almost kicks jon out because she thinks he taught rickon to curse when actually rickon overheard sansa ranting about joffrey while on the phone with jeyne poole.

[werewolfetone]

Every time I read abt the causes of WWI I think about the time in one of my secondary school history classes where the teacher said that gavrilo princip was more important to human history than jesus and it made like half of the class so mad that it completely derailed our entire unit on the first world war

[caxde]

roses and dandelions | steve harrington x reader

summary you're Hopper's daughter as soon as you could you moved fram from Hawkins, some years later you come back to teach at the High School, and you find Steve Harrington has become the new History teacher.

word count: 5.4k

warnings fem!reader, fluff (like a lot of it), comfort, mutual pining, yearning etc, slowburn bestfriends to lovers, idiots in love!!!. teacher!steve AU!!!!, english is not my first language so I apologise if there’s some mistakes, not proof read!!

    Steve loved his job. 

And for once he was actually proud of what he was doing, and what he had become. He had managed to get into collage, and worked his way through it, managing to get the top marks in his degree, turns out that if he was actually passionate in what was thought, he had no problem in keeping attention. He would be lying to himself if he didn’t acknowledge that his end goal was not where he was, but it turns out he was content with it. A quiet life, back in Hawkins, in a house of his own, teaching History to high schoolers. They weren’t the little nuggets that he had aimed for, but regardless, he enjoyed the occasional connection with an abnormally curious mind. 

He liked it. The quiet, the normalness, the stillness almost. 

It also made him giggle, being called Mr.Harrington. It seems like the walls of the Hawkins’ High School had seen the evolution, from posh-boy Stevie, King-Steve, loverboy-Steve, nice-Steve to finally years later, Mr.Harrington. He remembers writing it on his first day on the chalkboard and not being able to stop smiling to himself. He had made it, it wasn’t inherited, it wasn’t gifted, he had accomplished it himself. 

So on days like this, early January, where the coldness seemed to drain the morale, he stuck into that thought. 

He taught his classes for today, and was hanging back in his classroom for a bit, grading some work from his senior class. His radio hummed soft music as he concentrated, hand on his chin that played absentmindedly with his short 3 day beard. He was interrupted as he heard a loud thump on the other side of the wall. 

Funny enough, you were there. 

Surrounded by empty canvases, you were struggling to make the room feel better. You had worked in so many artists' workshops that you had certain habits that were hard to break. You needed a space dedicated in its entirety to paint, and you had spent the last hour organizing it. Half empty bottles were up to the front, the first three always had to be the three primary colours, yellow, blue and red. Followed by white and black. Then came the secondary ones, and the tertiary colours. The paintbrushes that could be saved and weren’t to badly beat layed bristles up in a jar. You only had acrylics and you had made a mental note to ask permission to get some oils next. However, the canvases couldn’t stop hitting the floor every time you tried to reorganize them. So you were exhausted and piled them on the ground by shape. Deciding to reorganize the high tables. You knocked one of the stools into the ground. 

A loud thump.

“You okay?” Even if his tone of voice didn’t make it obvious the fact that he had rushed over, seeing his glasses sliding down his nose did. Once you turned around and actually connected the voice to his face a little upside down smile appeared in his lips, while you nodded and looked at the ground. A faint blush appears on your cheeks. 

“Yeah, don’t worry about it Harrington.” You scoffed as you bent down again to pick the fallen piece of furniture. 

“I didn’t know you were back in town…” He whispered as he came closer to you, standing in front of you, watching you closely as you relocated the stool. 

“Well, I got maybe a little too many calls from Principal Higgins, about how they had nobody to come and ‘save the arts’ and bla bla bla… So… yeah.” You tried to explain without getting into too much detail, eyeing the classroom that was in truely a deprovable state. “And I don’t know where to actually put the tables so it makes sense.” He hides a smile as he scratches the back of his neck, looking around. 

“I’ll help.” He says as he starts heading into one of the high tables. 

“You don’t have to.” You tell him as you grab a sheet of paper and start sketching a quick idea of the distribution, the pencil always rests on your right ear. 

“I know. But if you actually give me an excuse to stop grading papers, you would actually be doing me a favour.” He says in a happy tone, as he rests his forearms on top of the table where your paper rested, his eyes looking deep into yours as you concentrated. His face relaxed as he watched you, and if he was being sincere, it didn’t surprise him. 

“Okay, if I’m your excuse… Guess you can.” You answered absentmindedly, as your whole focus was on making sure that the little game of tetris made sense on the paper.

As you started moving boxes around, Steve’s head had a million questions that he couldn’t help but ask. He was shocked to see you again, and if you’re honest, you were quite embarrassed to be back here again. 

“So what about New York?” He asked cheerfully, and regretted it when he saw how your mouth slightly opened and your eyes flinched at that. 

“Well, New York will wait… I hope.” You whisper the final part, but he hears it nonetheless. 

“I’m sorry I didn’t mean to-” You had to interrupt him. You could tell he was about to rumble away as he always did when he tried to fix things that remained unfixable. 

“It’s alright Harrington. It’s just, that way” You point before getting more in depth,  your voice rising above the squeals the tables make. “I’ve worked so hard, y’know? And I finally had, like my own space at a gallery and even if my work wasn't gonna be there, MoMa called back about the job interview and… I don’t know. I’ve still got the place in the gallery but now they won’t actually give me a space until late May…” You rumble away as the table is finally in its right place. “I just thought I had finally made it, I think…” 

“You have. You’ve just got to wait now.” He reassures as he starts pushing the next table, his eyes had not left your face while you rumbled away, his full attention laid on you. 

“I hate waiting.” You replay as the room finally is in shape. He pulls up the canvases and gives you a questioning look. “Between the cabinet and the wall there.” You point out, eyeing the whole room. 

“I remember. You were always so…” 

“Careful now.” You tease him as he tries to find a word to end his sentence. 

“Impulsive?” You laughed as you crossed your arms, and he gave you a soft smile. You looked at him for once. It had been about five years since you left for New York, and yet he still looked the same. His hair had grown a bit, but it remained as messy as it always did. The glasses and bear were a new addition, one that made you get lost in him for a bit longer than you did before. You smile softly as you remember how many times you told him how good he’d look with a beard and he proves you right. 

“Hey!” You scream back at him, as you both giggle and laugh. “You did overthink a lot.” That makes him chuckle as his arms crossed in front of his chest, and your eyes inevitably focus on his upper arms a bit. 

“Still do, H '' He says, using the old nickname he once gave you. “You still make people call you that?” 

“Miss.H?” You ask him, as you clean your things up, putting them neatly into your backpack so you can head back home. “Yeah, Hopper is way too close to dad.” 

“Figured.” He smiles, an upside down smile that makes something deep inside you flutter ever so slightly. “You still in the cabin?” 

“Yeah, he left for Cali with Joyce, and I just sorta bought it from him, you know… A big atelier…” He laughed softly with you, his face softening as he fixated on your movements. 

“See, you might like being back.” He teases as he fixes his eyeglasses. 

“Don’t push it Harrington.” 

“Mr.Harrington now.” He finishes, making you both laugh. 

-

January flew by. 

And with it, your new routine settled quickly. You woke up with not that much time to spare before having to get the car to get in actual time to your first class. Funny enough, teaching wasn’t as bad as you remembered. Granted, the last time you taught you had spoiled upper-east side kids that thought that making an abstract painting was simply spilling paint into a big canvas, devoid of meaning. It deeply infuriated you. 

Thankfully, this time around the kids seemed to actually be interested, and to actually want to learn what you tried to convey. 

However, on this February morning, everything was going exactly as it wasn’t supposed to. To make matters worse, your car had given up and was now refusing to turn on. Frustrated and about to give up, you decide to call for help. 

You were whispering to yourself, pickuppickuppickup, as the tones of the phone answered you.

“Good morning.” You struggled to hide a groan at his happy tone. 

“Help?” You asked as your voice croaked, it being your first word of the day, besides a series of curses dedicated to your car. 

“What do you need, H?” Steve's voice sounded worried now, and you scoffed in an attempt to make him relax. 

“My stupid car has died. Can you come pick me up? Please? I’ll buy you dinner if you wanna, as a thank you.” You explain yourself as you hit the floor with your heavy boots. He could hear  you doing so, just as you could hear him smile. 

“Are you bribing me, bub?” He asks. You can feel your face warming up as you register the stupid pet name. 

“Only if it is working.” You declare, receiving nothing but silence. “Is it working?” 

“On my way.” He says before he hangs up. 

Truth be told, you didn’t have to wait that long, but still, you managed to get lost in some sketches as you waited. So, when Steve found you, curled up on your house steps, head focused on whatever you were doodling, he could help but smile at you. Soft, kind and adoring smile. He stopped the car, and opened the door for you, a smirk on his face as you told him good morning stevie. 

“You know, you’re the only one allowed to call me that.” He teases as he starts the car back up. 

“Course I am.” You tease him back, slapping your thigh as a distraction from your yawning. 

“Did you eat?” He asks, his eyes didn’t leave the road often, but he couldn’t help himself. You were on the passenger seat, hair falling in a calculated mess, and you scratching your eye made him melt a bit on the inside. So as soon as you shake your head no, he reaches on the center console, and gives you a little mug. You chuckle at that. “It’s coffee.” He explains. “I’ve got a croissant in my bag, you can have it.” He tells you, as your cheeks warm up, a pinkish tone invading them. 

“You take your mugs into school?” You tease him as a way to say thank you. Taking it to your lips, leaning your head back as soon as you drink it. 

“Yeah, you know… trying to take the plastic use down.” He explains, as he reaches for the same mug, your hands touching for a second. An electric feeling invading your skin for a moment. You watch him closely as his lips hit the white porcelain, you feel your lips tingle a bit. He looks closely at you as he hits a red light, handing the mug back at you. “Seriously, eat the croissant.” He insists, as you can’t hide your blushing skin anymore, and this time he does notice it, a smile appearing on his face. 

“O-kay, but you’ll eat half of it, ‘kay?” You try to reason with him, as he tilts your head at you, a mocking stare. “C’mon, you know I don’t eat that much.” He nodded as his left hand changed the car gear. 

“You’ll have to feed me though” He teased as his hands were now occupied, his face concentrated once again, as he closed distance with the school. He thinks you won’t, because if he’s honest, it will make him just as nervous as it will make you, having your hand that close to his lips. Not really sure what was going on, but you were in no rush to find out, you just enjoyed it. So his eyes opened a bit as he heard the cracking of the baked pastry on your hand. His head slightly turned to you as his eyes don’t leave the road. Your heart beating a bit harder as you closed distance, his lips kissing your fingers as he bites down. 

When the car stops you share a look. An intimate moment while you too share the improvised breakfast, enjoying the stillness of this moment, the quiet and the sense of familiarity it itself held. You knew as much as he did, that you wished you could just stay there. 

-

Two weeks had passed, and it became a routine. 

He’d come and pick you up, he’ll bring two mugs of coffee, and you’d have some sort of quick breakfast for you both to eat on your way. You’d do your classes, he’d do his, and at the end of the day, he’d let you home and wish you a good night with a soft blink. 

And with it, came two things. 

Feelings that were left in the unknown, and a swarm of students that had seen you come together and started speculating about your relationship. That last part made you smile to yourself every time you overheard them speculate. 

“Bethany saw them arriving together” “Trevor said he saw miss.H give mr.Harrington a kiss on the cheek.” “They left together yesterday”.

You told Steve about it as soon as you heard, and he laughed as hard as you did. So you did some pantomimes in front of some students, like a little inside joke. But if he was to be honest with himself, he liked messing with you. He likes spending time with you, and if it served him as an excuse to touch your hand, or let his hand rest on the small of your back more often, he was more than happy to do so. And then again, the same could be said by you. You probably didn’t need to touch his upper arm as often as you did, or tease him as much as you did, but still, you did because you liked his presence.  

The last Period of the week came around, senior class. You knew you weren’t supposed to have favourites, but then again, you liked that they actually were curious about the world and asked all the right things. 

You had some objects in each table and a simple phrase written on the blackboard. choose one.

They slowly did, as they came in, the usual hello miss.h! was followed by a chorus of what is this? that made you giggle inside. In one of the tables were some postcards, the following one had a collection of letters (with the signature hidden), the other one had some pictures of landscapes, and the final one had a lot of pictures that you had taken. 

As all of your students had one in each hand, you placed yourself in the middle, all eyes on you, and a murmuring silence with unparalleled attention. 

“Hello” You chirped happily, this might be your favourite assignment to date. “So, I’ll go straight to it, that okay?” You asked as you watched for your students to nod or say something, which they did. “Alright, so. You have different objects in your hands, and I’ll give you a month where you can work in this classroom and at your houses, okay? You’ll need to come up with a painting, sculpture, drawing… I don't care as long as it is original, inspired by what you are holding. I don’t care if the only thing that you produce is as big as a pencil sharpener, or as big as you are. I want you to actually be moved by what you produced, and to register the process. In other words, don’t get too stressed by the ending product, and just enjoy the process. Okay? We’ll work here and I’ll be here for any questions or anything you need, but, if you could actually you know, work? That would be lovely.” You heard your students giggle at that, and you smiled proudly at them, clapping your hands as you finished explaining the assignment. “Okay, let’s put on some music, yeah?” They all cheered happily as they headed for the stereo. 

You truly didn’t need to stress with them. You knew what they were about to do, so you went back to the tables and gathered what they hadn’t selected, handling it all with care. And your heart stopped when you reached the letters and found the old post.it that Steve had once wrote. “I know I won’t remember in the morning, but I also know I won’t even shut up about that kiss” Embarrassed with that memory you held it in your hand as some of your students huddled to you. 

“Miss.H?” The shortest of the three asked for your attention, and your slightly blushed cheeks looked up rapidly at them. 

“Ye- Yes?” You muttered as you composed yourself. 

“Will you do the assignment with us, like last time?” She asked again, and you smiled at them, a soft chuckle escaping your lips. 

“Do you guys want me to?” You asked, honesty evident in your voice. 

“We love seeing your art, Miss.H.” The taller one now spoke. 

“Ah, flattery.” You teased, as they giggled at your answer. “That will take you anywhere with me. Sure.” 

“Great!” They cheered as they went back to their table, stopping suddenly when the door opened and Steve stood there. 

You looked at him, forgetting for a second how good he looked today. That stupid blue shirt hugged his arms a bit too well, and the maroon pants complimented his thighs in a way that made your blood rush a bit too much. He had his 3 day beard again, and he just stood there, reclining his body onto your classroom threshold, asking with his look for a quick conversation. You walked over as you heard the girls chattering amongst themselves. 

“What do you need?” You asked, a bit too casually, forgetting that you were actually the teachers and not just some friends in a bar. 

“I told you this morning that my class had a test last period.” He sounded a little pissed off. And his eyebrow furrowed, as your hand reached your forehead, an apologetic look on your eyes. 

“Shit, I forgot.” You whispered. Steve seemed to forget about it for a second, as he saw the little post-it in your hand. Grabbing your hand in a swift motion and opening it up. Your face was now as red as the new paint you bought. 

You could see him reading the note and a smile appeared as he looked you up and down. He did remember writing it, years ago, on the night you left to New York. On the night he had been brave and told you everything he meant to tell you before. He had forgotten all about the test for a second. 

“You still have this?” He asks, not really believing that you would still save such a silly bit of paper. Waving it in front of your face, his eyes seemed brighter all of a sudden

“Yeah…” You were in a loss for words, too embarrassed to actually say anything. He forgot for a moment that you were not alone, as he placed it back on the palm of your hand, and tucked a flock of hair behind your ear, his thumb slightly caressing your cheek, carefully, leaving a tray of warmth and goosebumps, in both your face and his fingers. “I’ll turn the music off.” You whisper, as your eyes get lost in his, momentarily getting lost on his pinkish lips. 

“Uh, yeah. Yeah…” He whispered, lost on you. “Do you have plans tomorrow?” He had decided to be brave again. 

“No.” 

“Wanna get dinner tomorrow night?” He asks, his eyes shine at you, as you smile brighter. 

“Yeah, sure.” 

“Great, then it's a date…” He said as he left, his eyes had shined as he looked back at your lips, and you didn’t quite believe it. A stupid daze evident on your face. 

-

Robin had just got off the phone with Steve when you called, so her immediate reaction was to laugh when she saw your number, and you were left shocked about her laughing. 

“What are you laughing for?” You demanded, a hint of anxiety evident in your voice. 

“Loverboy just called me.” She laughed as she spoke. 

“Steve?” 

“Mmh.” She affirmed. 

“Shit.” You both laughed at that, your hand reaching your forehead. “He told you already?” She made the same sound again, and you sighed as a response. “What did he say?” 

“Oh, you know, that he had finally asked you out. And I just scolded him for not doing it sooner… I mean, I love you, but hearing you wailing about him for the last five years…” 

“I didn’t wail…” You try to no avail to convince her, but she just scoffs at you. “Maybe a little.” 

“Come on, you both have been in love with each other for so long… Just get on your nice dress, the black one, get a good coat and be ready, it’ll go fine.” She calmed you down, knowing exactly that that’s why you called, she wasted no time. 

“I love you Robs.” You told her, with a wide smile on your face.

“I know, now, go. Don’t use me as an excuse.” 

“Kay, bye.”

“Bye, lovergirl.” She giggles as she hangs up. Leaving you in the quiet of the cabin. 

You did enjoy the silence, the quiet of the woods that surrendered you, but still, you opted to put on some music, just something to ease your brain from overrunning. Once again, Bowie’s voice filled the space, making it all easier, from dressing yourself up, to doing your hair, applying some makeup, and yes, taking a shot of your fathers hidden whiskey to ease the nerves. 

He told you he’d pick you up, so the only thing left to do was wait. 

You didn’t have to wait long anyway. 

Though he wasn’t used to the feeling, he could recognise the nervousness energy that his body emanated. 

Which is why he had called Robin in the first place, he wasn’t sure if he should wear the button down, the sweater… He was in a crisis, and obviously Robin had laughed her ass off. The only thing she had told him was to not shave, and he didn’t quite believe her when she told him that you had always liked how he looked with one. 

So with five minutes to spare, he was in his backyard, well, not technically, he was invading Mss.Jackson’s so he could steal your favourite flower. Stupid as it may be, he’d known that it would make you smile, and Steve would make anything to see you smile again. 

And he knew it was cheesy and a cliché, but as soon as he laid eyes on you, his heart seemed to skip a beat. Your body looked splendid with that little black dress, your legs covered with warm tights, and a coat that kept you warm. The thing that drove him crazier, was how your lips were now blood red, curling upwards as you locked eyes with him. 

Then again, yours did the same. 

You couldn’t help but take a second, just a moment to memorize him. Standing against his car, face slightly buried inside a small bouquet of wild flowers. Roses and dandelions. As stupid as it was, it made you feel heard and seen, him remembering that this combination was your favourite, not only that but, his white knit jumper made him look softer, it seemed to be a gateway to the old Steve. The one that had been in love with you and told you so before you left, the one you kissed as a final goodbye, the same one that left the note that you still carried on your wallet. 

-

The date had passed by too fast. A conversation that didn’t ever end, not really, not even now, when the slight buzz of the wine was beginning to wear off, and you were standing up, outside your little house, smoking as you avoided saying goodbye.  

“I truely can’t believe you smoke that crap.” He teases again, smiling down at you. 

“Hey, sue me, I like them better than Newport’s.” You tease back, your eyes looking at the flowers that were still on his hand. He laughs at that, and a wisp of courage invades you for a second. “Do you want to come in? Put the flowers away?” You ask, softly, embarrassed about the fact that your skin is bright pink as you ask that, your hand scratching your upper arm. But the smile on his face relaxes you. 

“I’d love to.” He admits, as he follows you inside. He watches you closely as the familiarity invades you. As soon as you open the door, you hang your coat on the hanger on the wall. Letting your cigarette rest softly in between your darken lips, he is mesmerized by you, and the easiness that you seem to radiate as you put your hair up. He chuckles as he sees you move so gracefully. 

“What?” You ask, a soft tone accompanied by a shy smile comes out, looking up to his eyes, he seems to melt away once again. 

“Nothing.” He laughs at your raised eyebrows. “You smoke inside now?” He teases, as he finally takes a look around. 

“Steve, honey… I’m an artist and now a teacher… Yeah, I smoke inside.” You mock him a bit, and it makes the both of you try to stifle a chuckle to no success. The way your voice had said honey rings in his ears for a while.

He looks lost at the little cabin, afraid to even ask, he decides to just follow you around. You head into the little kitchen, opening the fridge and taking out a half empty bottle of white wine, a soft questioning look that is answered by a nod from him, you reach for two glasses, and you can’t help your lips from curling upwards as you see him getting a little empty glass jar and fills it up with water, letting the roses and dandelions rest there. You clink your glasses together before taking a sip, a stupid grin in both your faces. He looks around, the question evident in his expression. 

“You wanna see the um… atelier?” You asks as you take another sip. He has become lost in you, and just nods as he follows you. 

He’s mesmerized as soon as the light comes on. A neat mess in front of him, and your moving in the space with such grace he can’t tell what he likes better. You spinning around in your short dress or the colorfull paintings behind you.

He steps closer to you, your head slightly rested against your glass as you eye a canvas that hasn’t been finished yet, the one he presume you’ve been woring on before he came. He wasn’t wrong in that, just as he isn’t wrong in assuming that you’ve just had a revelation about it. 

“Wanna tell me about it?” He asks, a whisper of a voice escaping his lips as he reclains against a wooden panel that was set up by two very unstable stools. 

“S’nothing.” You mumbels as your eyebrows furrows a bit more, his silence lets you know he doesn’t believe you, though his titled head would have told you the same if you had looked at him. “Just, I thought that I was painting something else, now I see I wasn’t” You mutter, aware that it doesn’t make that much sense. 

“I’m not sure I follow you, H” He says in return, wine going down his throat. 

“Hold on.” You say, as you move closer to him. 

His hearts beats faster for a second as he sees your decision in his eyes, confusing him in thinking that you were going to make a move, surprised when he sees you catch a small brush and the straight bottle of red paint. He watches you closely, and he can’t help himself but mutter “You’ll get your dress stained.” 

“Yeah, maybe.” You smile, dropping the painton the floor, he watches closely as your hands reach over for an old overshired button up, you putt it on quickly, his mouth opens a little too much when he sees you taking the dress off, kicking it of the ground to him. “Good reflexes” You tease as he catches it on his free hand. 

He’s brain can’t quiet compute the information. You look way too good right now. The look of determination on your eyes as you stare at the canvas, your tangled or maybe intricate would be a better word for the state of your bun, with flyaways framing your hair. Your legs still in the black tights, but thanks to that little wardrove change, he can now see the very beginning of your legs, and he is mesmerized for a little too long, not being able to focus on what you were actually doing, since his whole attention is set on the way you move, your presence, you. 

Once you turn back to him, the roles diverse for a second. Maybe a bit more. He crouches forward, and you’re the one left starring. He had taken his jumper at some point, and he was now left with a tight grey shirt, his arms in full display, and with them so were his veins, that now appeared as he was holding the wine in one hand, and your dress in the other. Maybe what you liked best was the look of recognition on his eyes as he started at the canvas. 

“Is that?” 

“Yeah, you.” You finish, as he finally turns around. Even with your arms crossed against your chest, the distance between the both of you was small. If you or him made one step, not only your feet would be touching, but so will be your chest, you’d share the same air. And the electricity of the whole night seemed to be building up, your chest raising faster and faster as you looked up at him. Aware of him, close enough to see his freckles, to count them even if you fancied. 

And just like if lighting had struck, he took a step forward, as soon as his glass reached the impromptu table and his body collapsed into yours, his eyes closed, waiting for your lips to touch, wich they did. Immediately, with a necessity that seemed to come from far before. His hands dropping your dress on the floor fastly as they traveled to your cheeks, pushing in closer to you, as your fingers found the back of his neck, grabbing his hair instictibly, needing him like air, or like water. A soft moan escaping your lips as he pressed harder into you, his hands travelling to your back, he needed you just as much as you needed him. 

His belt was starting to bother him, and you were starting to feel the tingle between your legs, and you knew you had to stop, because if you didn’t, you would never want him to leave again. 

As he pulled away you knew he had thought the same. Touching his forehead with yours as your fingers found its way to one another, intertwined. 

“That was…” 

“Yeah.” You agreed with him. “Stay?”

As his lips kissed the tip of your nose, you felt safe in his arms. 

“I’m never leaving.” He reassured you.

-

if you enjoyed (i I really hope you did), please reblog! i promise it makes a difference

-

[shelandsorcery]

I'm going to start teaching my nephews some basic colour theory; they're 9 and 10 and really passionate artists, and I think a little knowledge now will help them push themselves a lot further.

I'm going to start with colour mixing. I really think that color mixing using paint is a valuable metaphor even if you are working digitally 99% of the time. who knows what my nephews will end up focusing on as they get older, but having the metaphor of mixing paint to achieve different colors and understand how colors relate to each other visually should be a really useful ground level structure in any ongoing learning they do with color theory.

so I've put together a watercolor palette using student grade non-toxic paints. we've got two reds, two yellows, two blues, and burnt sienna.

I'm going to include white gouache as well, so we can talk about tinting colors, and how colors appear different when they are diluted versus tinted. also, honestly when I was their age I think watercolor was really punishing, and just bringing in some white gouache gives them a chance to rework areas if they want to. I'm hoping this makes stuff a little less frustrating and helps them feel more empowered to keep fixing and pushing their work instead of just giving up.

I don't currently have a plan to have black paint in there right now, because I want us to focus on color mixing, but I wouldn't on principal prevent them from having a pan of black paint in future for their own time with the paint. I just think it might be distracting or confusing when I'd rather we focus on mixing neutrals with these colorful pigments.

I've got five Windsor and Newton Cotman brand pans - phthalo blue, lemon yellow, cadmium yellow hue, cadmium red medium hue, and burnt sienna; and the other two pans i filled with van Gogh brand tube paint - ultramarine deep and madder lake deep.

This gets me a decent spread of secondaries without confusing anything by introducing the CMY approach.

I think learning the CMY palette will be valuable too! but it made sense to me to start with palette that most resembled what they are likely to be learning in school in terms of subtractive color mixing. if they do learn about additive color mixing, they'll be working with the cmy palette with light, so I figure I'll let this be different at the moment.

I've included burnt sienna after weighing my options, because I think it's important for them to learn how to neutralize colors in a few different ways. burnt sienna and ultramarine blue are such a classic neutral formula, and such a great way to mix something that's nearly black, that it felt important to include. the fact that when you mix it with the phthalo blue you get a green instead of a neutral, I think that's a really great example of how color mixing can be surprising as well.

I'm working on a couple little example paintings to help them see the range that is possible with this palette, so here's one with greens and purples; I'll do one in neutrals overall and another maybe in oranges and teals.

I think for exercises we might want to work up to the colour wheel - maybe starting first with the basics of mxing using different rations to get different colours, and go from there.

If anyone has any advice on teaching this to 9 and 10 year olds, I'd love to hear it! I think they'll be excited to try something new and open up more possibilities for themselves as artists right now; beyond that I won't be particularly intense about it.

Also, do you remember when you learned paint mixing and basic colour theory? What were some moments that stood out to you or stuck in your mind forever?

[poorlittleyaoyao]

do you have any cdrama recs?

I haven't watched many! My attention span for just-for-fun reading is abysmal when school's in session, and that sadly includes subtitles.

HOWEVER. I HIGHLY recommend Story of Yanxi Palace, a historical drama that follows a young woman named Wei Yingluo who enters the Qianlong Emperor's court as an embroidery maid to avenge her older sister's murder. Yingluo is a FANTASTIC protagonist because she's a top-tier manipulator capable of being absolutely ruthless; however, for all that she's trying (and generally succeeding) at being a Gaslight Gatekeep Girlboss, she has an unshakeable sense of justice, and often undertakes personal risk to protect people dear to her. I always like it when a hero gets to scheme and lie unabashedly and the scheming and lying is acknowledged as such.

Beyond that--and what REALLY appealed to me coming off of The Untamed--is that the cast is overwhelmingly women. There are, like, four guys who matter in the entire 70-episode series. The other principals are the women of the palace complex: the empress, the concubines, the consorts in the harem, the maids. The series is first and foremost concerned with the relationships between these women and how the repressive environment of the Forbidden City (and the precariousness of their own positions) stifles their abilities to be themselves and encourages them to turn on each other. There's a lot of love! There's also a lot of mess!

And if you're like "hm, this sounds like a serious and depressing prestige drama," it also includes some BUCKWILD plot moments. At one point a character summons bats to murder someone. At another point, a character goads another into being struck by lightning.

(Also, because this made me very anxious: when a tiny dog shows up, DON'T WORRY, THE DOG IS FINE. THE DOG IS OKAY.)

I will admit that I haven't finished the series; there's a point around 2/3 in where some major plot threads are resolved and the ones intended to take their place come out of NOWHERE and involve what I feel is some genuinely OOC writing for the new antagonists. But it's just so ENJOYABLE to watch a historical drama that centers on women's experiences, isn't a romance (there are romances in it! but that is deeply secondary), and lets its characters be absolute disaster humans instead of Cardboard Picturesque Sad Historical Ladies(TM). I am grateful to @maester-of-spreadsheets and @tavina-writes for recommending it!

The whole thing is on YouTube with top-notch subtitles. (They translate terms of address! They translate the idioms and scientific/cultural/historical references verbatim and then add footnotes for context because they correctly assume that yOU ARE WATCHING THIS ONLINE, YOU CAN PAUSE TO READ IF YOU WANT. Netflix would NEVER.) There's also a remarkably thorough Wikipedia page if you lose track of the characters, since many of them undergo changes to their official titles and are referred to by those exclusively.

[samssims]

Plumbob Prep Academy

Teaches & Students Wanted ~ An August Back to School Prompt List

Shoutout to @sparkiekong for the inspiration

Time to sharpen those pencils and get those backpacks ready because I want you to build a school, staff and all! Fill your sims game with more teachers and students of all ages! ((Teacher friends, this one should be great fun for you!)) Use this as a CAS challenge or a photo challenge! Whatever speaks to you! Use the #PlumbobPrep to add to our community of school staff and use #samssims if you'd like a reblog! I'd love to see what you create!

Starts August 1st!

Build a School ~ The School is on a budget so some teachers share roles, but you can add an extra challenge to yourself and make a teacher for each individual subject if you prefer.

Teachers: - Principal - Art/Drama Teacher - Math/Science Teacher - English/Foreign Language Teacher - Gym Teacher - Teacher's Aid - School Nurse Bonus: Tell me the teacher drama. Which teachers are secretly dating or who hates their neighboring teacher next door?

Show off your sim through their school years!

Student Photos: - First Day of Kindy (Toddler) - First Day of Primary (Child) - First Day of Secondary (Teen) Bonus: Show us their last days and how it changed from the beginning of the year to the end.

Focusing more on the High School/Secondary Stages of school, show off which students would fill certain roles!

Student Positions: - Cheerleading Captain - Sports (of your choice) Captain - Chess Captain - Theater Kid - Prom Court - Valedictorian

BONUS: Put your sims up for public download and I may just use them in the school I am building for my NSB save! And so others can use them to build their own schools too!

Have fun with this! Populate your town with more sims or use one sim and dress them up in different roles. Feel free to add more roles that are not included! Represent Plumbob Prep however you like! However you are inspired, you are correct!

Welcome to Plumbob Prep!

See you soon for the new school year ~

[destielomegaversebigbang]

Dance Me To The End of Love

Posting September 23, 2024

Fic by blackhorsedances

Art by TwinOne

Rating: Explicit

Summary:

So what if Dean Winchester is a male Omega? He’s as big as most Alphas, as fast as most Alphas, and he’s a seasoned fighter. He can take his Alpha friend Benny in four out of five practice matches. But the stupid UWFC (Ultimate Were Fighting Championship) rules state that fighters have to compete not only in their weight class, but also within their primary and subgender.

That’s just genderist, Dean says to anyone who will listen, and Benny mostly agrees.

And Dean works hard Monday through Friday as a teacher at a progressive Charter School, the Zevon Academy, helping young weres of all designations to understand not only English and Literature, but also were biology and Healthy Were Sexuality.

He’s got a great life. He’s got friends. He’s got the occasional Omega or Beta hook-up or heck, even the occasional Alpha female. Dean doesn’t date Alpha males. But life is good, right?

Why can’t an Alpha male be a ballet dancer and a musician? Yes, Cas is not as big or tall as a lot of Alphas, and he’s certainly not aggressive. He had enough of that growing up, thank you, and decided he’s above that.

It’s just a terrible shame that a freak accident and questionable medical treatment ended his career, and then accusations of sexual harassment of an Omega male ended his second career.

But thanks to Gabe, he has a brand new job as a teacher in the Performing Arts track at a school called the Zevon Academy, teaching dance. There are sure to be some Beta males at the school that he can befriend, or date. After all, Omegas are out of the question. But his life is good, right?

Tags: Castiel Novak/Dean Winchester; mention of Charlie Bradbury/Meg Masters and Gabriel Novak/Kali; AU. Omegaverse; a/b/o; Mention of barbaric treatment of male Omega patients by male Alpha Doctors; Martial Artist Dean Winchester; Ballet Dancer Castiel Novak; Alpha Castiel, Omega Dean; Non-Traditional Alpha Castiel; Gentle Alpha Castiel; Gay Castiel; Intersex Omega Dean; Unusual subtype Omega (Dean Winchester is an Omega with fully functioning female as well as male genitalia including knot); Bisexual Dean Winchester. Mention of Dean’s previous sexual encounters with Alpha Females; Intersex Alpha Females; Unfounded accusations of sexual harassment by Castiel towards a male Omega; Explicit consensual sex; Top Castiel, Bottom Dean Winchester; Penetrative Sex; Oral Sex; Anal Fingering; No MPREG; safer sex practices; fluff and smut; fluff; miscommunication; injured Castiel; injured Dean Winchester; Dean Winchester has PTSD; John Winchester’s A+ parenting; Dean Winchester and Castiel really need to use their words; angst; hurt/comfort; Sam Winchester emotionally abused Dean, but regrets it and is working to do better; Naomi Novak is a horrible person; Lucifer and Michael are horrible. Happy Ending!

Excerpt below the cut

That leaves Dean and Milton. Dean holds out his hand because he’s trying to be a Team player, he really is. Milton looks at it as though he’s never seen a hand before, but takes it in a brief, warm clasp that shoots an electric spark up Dean’s arm. Also, damn. Dean can’t smell any pheromones coming from the other man, so he can’t tell the dude’s secondary gender. He doesn’t know if Milton is using blockers, but it doesn’t matter. His posture is suddenly rigid with tension. Did he have the same electric zap?

Then the guy opens his mouth, and the moment dissolves. “Did the principal say Dr. Winchester?” Milton tilts his head to the side like a confused bird.

“Yeah, Dr. Winchester. Why?”

Milton turns his cobalt blue eyes on Dean. He scans them over Dean’s heavily-muscled shoulders and arms that are covered in a worn band t-shirt, his trim hips and bowed legs wrapped in faded blue jeans, and nods. “Physical Education.”

Dean blinks. “What? What part of the phrase Liberal Arts Team Lead makes you think Physical Education?” Electricity be damned, this guy’s just weird.

Milton’s eyes widen. “Oh, uhm, well, it’s not an uncommon degree for an Alpha, after all. I’m not sure why you’re so–”

Dean holds up a hand. “One, that’s an incredibly intrusive, genderist assumption. And B, Liberal Arts, buddy. Now, if you’re done making assumptions, follow me. I need to get my ID badge and lock my classroom.”

Milton just stares, and says nothing. Dean turns, and walks down the long hall from the conference room to his wing of the school, and hears steady footfalls behind him.

[webslingingslasher]

AMNESIA???? SUMMER CAMP?? TUTOR??????????????!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

YES!!!!

AMNESIA: READER HATES PETER, SHE BONKS HER HEAD AND THAT HATE TURNS TO LOVE. SHE'S CONVINCED HER AND PETER ARE DATING. HERE'S A BLURB:

“Peter, stop it.” You frown heavily, your chest feels tight. “I’m not trying to hurt your feelings, I just think you’re confused-” It’s panic, you don’t know why you’re here, you don’t know why you’re hurt and you don’t know why Peter’s lying. 

“I’m not confused! You’re my boyfriend!” You suck in air as your lower lip trembles, there’s an impending tantrum and you can’t stop it. “You’re my boyfriend and you’re being really mean!” A rush of tears, your face feels hot. Peter tries to calm you down, he’s using a gentle voice while delivering the same line. “I’m not, I promise I’m not.”

You’re disoriented, sore and scared. You need the comfort of your boyfriend but he’s playing keepaway. Peter says it one more time, you go ballistic. “You’re lying, you’re lying, you’re lying!”

--

SUMMER CAMP: FEATURING AN AU OF FRAT!PETER AND TROUBLE. THEY HOOKED UP AT SCHOOL, PETER WAS A JERK AND TROUBLE DISTANCED HERSELF. TURNS OUT THEY VOLUNTEERED AT THE SAME CAMP FOR THE SUMMER. HERE'S A BLURB:

“I’m surprised we didn’t get eaten by an alligator.” 

Peter snorts but you didn’t join in, he gives you a side eye and smirks. “Are you being serious?” You nod, alligators are no joke. “Trouble, there aren’t any alligators in this lake.” You don’t look appeased, “how do you know?” 

“Because we’re in New York.” 

“And? What about the singing alligator?” 

“You mean the crocodile?” 

“Even worse!” 

“You’re in luck. We’re not in Africa or Florida, you’re safe.” 

You circle back to Peter patching your leg up and bounce your shoulder off his. “I’m only safe when I’m with you.” You meant it as a joke but part of you thinks you might be serious, the look Peter gives you tells you that he picked up on that too. “Do you mean that?” 

“Maybe.” 

--

TUTOR: PETER PARKER IS ON THE VERGE OF GETTING KICKED OUT OF SCHOOL DUE TO HIS ABSENCES. TURNS OUT HE CAN SECURE A SPOT AT GRADUATION AS LONG AS HE HELPS A SECOND CHANCE STUDENT PASS THEIR STATE EXAM. EXCEPT THIS STUDENT HATES HIM AND LEARNING. HERE'S A BLURB:

Peter squished in an uncomfortable office chair that’s stiffer than a two by four to be lectured on how school isn’t an option and if he wanted to graduate he either never miss a day or class again or take up a part time tutor gig for the school. 

Talk about backed into a corner. 

“Who do I have to tutor?” It’s funny he’s asking like it actually matters, he has no other choice. He can’t promise to never miss school again but he can keep skating on the edge as long as he agrees to a few lessons. 

“Just a couple kids from the secondary program. It’ll be their second time taking the history CST and we want some good numbers, there’s a few other tutors with you so you’d most likely be working one on one with a student.” 

“Who’s the student?” There’s a reason the principal bypasses his question and Peter has a feeling it’s on purpose. He thinks they’re more difficult than any others, especially if he’s being tasked with a one on one. This isn’t a coincidence. “It doesn’t matter, does it, Mr. Parker?” 

“What if we don’t get along?” 

“You’re our best student. I think if you can get our worst to pass, we can revisit the number of absences you’re allowed in the quarter.” There isn’t a choice. He has to get along with them. 

All Peter has to do is get someone to pass a test and he’s smooth sailing for the rest of the year.

--

[adarkandmagicalforest]

they do all have a certain vibe though dont they