#just ask my grade 12 english teacher

[zickmonkey]

In my free time I make really bad memes so here's some to channel my anger in response to Marineland Canada's last surviving orca dying (Kiska)

[sswiftiestars]

Professor!anakin aaaaaaa

professor!Anakin X fem! reader

warnings: SMUT. kinda big age gap (12 years. ani is 32 you’re 20), more of a jerking off headcanon, sexting, dilf! anakin is mentioned, padmes death at birth mentioned.

a/n: idk how college works so if it doesn’t makes sense, that’s why. sorry babes :). also, i imagine him to look like a mix of clay beresford and Stephen glass in this.

not proofread

You sit in your english class, in your sophomore year of college, as your teacher, Mr. Skywalker, was speaking in the head of your class.

you often found yourself staring at his dirty brown curls a lot, instead of listening to whatever dumbass lecture he was babbling about.

You’d also think about how it’d feel if his hands were knuckle deep inside your pussy, but, you also thought about what it’d be like for his hopefully huge cock to be down your throat. you thought about it as you endlessly fucked your self with your slim fingers, whining to yourself because it wasn’t enough.

and..little did you know, so did he.

..Anakin isn’t a…romantic guy, that’s for sure. during sex, i mean. he takes what he wants. Anakin would rather face fuck a girl till she cries, rather than taking it slow and placing soft kisses on her neck.

Sure, he can do that, but he doesn’t like to.

Anakin often stayed up late at night, fucking his fist like there was no tomorrow. he usually thought of his late wife, Padme, who unfortunately passed during child birth.

but..that changed. ever since he saw you for the first time in his class..everything changed.

“y/n, are you listening to me?” your professor asked you, your class all turning their heads at you.

you felt anxiety bubble up in your head, and chest.

you clear your throat, “yes sir.” you murmur out. Anakin nodded back at you with a slight smirk before returning back to his lecture.

Your best friend smirked at you from across the room. She knew how infatuated with him you were, because you’d tell her all your unhinged thoughts about him. you rolled your eyes jokingly in response, but deep down, you knew you’d be fucking yourself thinking about that stupid smirk of his later.

When the bell rings, you pick up your stuff and right as you’re about to leave the classroom, Anakin calls out to you.

“Not so fast, Y/n. cmere.” anakin says with a slight grin on his tan and freckled face. you wasted no time and walked over to his desk and tilted your head slightly out of curiosity.

“Listen, y/n, your grades are slipping.” he reminded you, anakins face turning serious.

“I- yeah, i know..” you mutter back in response, your face turning a bit red out of embarrassment.

“Do you need to start staying after class?” Anakin cleared his throat and leaned closer to you.

“Yeah, maybe.” you said, your breath hitching ever so slightly at his request, “—but not today, i have some things i have to do.” you lied, to tell the truth, you really needed to get to your room as soon as possible so you could fuck your self silly.

he smiled, “Alright. sounds like a plan.” Anakin nodded, “i know this isn’t the most professional thing to do, but here’s my number so we can schedule a tutoring session.” he murmured with a chuckle as he handed you a post it note with his number on it.

You quickly took the post it and nodded, “Thank you, Sir.” you said as you walked out of the classroom.

Later that day, well, night now.. it was around 8:00pm when you texted your professor,“Hey! it’s y/n, just letting you know this is me, text me when you think of a day we can schedule a tutoring session next week!”

he wasted no time at all with a quick response:

“hello, y/n! i’ll make sure to let you know. Side note; start paying attention in class instead of daydreaming. it might help you out a bit.”

you rolled your eyes to yourself, “I don’t daydream. not at all.” you text back teasingly, but making sure to keep everything as normal as possible, since he was your professor, and all.

“keep talking to me like that and you’ll see what happens.”

oh.

Oh.

“is this fucker flirting with me, or am i delusional?” you say to yourself.

“i’ll talk to you however i want. over text, at least.” you respond, hoping you’d get a bold text back.

well, your dreams came true.

“I think that mouth has better uses then talking,y/n”

“Oh?” you replied, not expecting his response like that at all, “andddd what would those better uses be?” you added.

“Probably sucking my cock.” Anakin texted you, trying to ignore the absolutely huge hard on that was straining his sweatpants.

your jaw dropped to the floor and you turned bright red. why would he say that? he’s your teacher, not your boyfriend.

“that’s not very appropriate.”

“I don’t care if it’s not “appropriate”, sweetheart. You want me and i want you too.” Anakin texts you, and starts to pull his hard cock out. Before you really get the chance to reply, he sends you a photo of him palming his hard cock, leaking pre-cum from the pretty tip.

You bite your lip when you look at the photo, feeling yourself grow wet at the sight of his huge length.

“See how bad i want you?” Anakin taunts over text message.

You waste no time to quickly take off your clothes, leaving yourself in your lace bra and underwear. you take a photo of your tits and some of your hips.

You send the photo to him, and the second he sees it, Anakin immediately starts to pump his cock.

“fuckfuckfuckfuck-“ he moans, as he looks at the photo. “Gonna’ cum all over your tits-“ Anakin mutters to himself, and let’s out a little whimper. Anakin continues s to fuck his fist and after a couple more minutes, he cums on his phone screen, onto your tits.

He quickly realizes what he’s gotten himself into, and a wave of guilt washes over him.

“Fuck. i’m gonna get fired for this.”

[c-nstantine]

sense of normalcy

description: Jason & Black!Batmom in four stages of his life

word count: 1.2k

warnings: angst, death, mommy issues, grieving, talks about Jason's death a lot

Jason: Age 12

Bruce had warned Alfred that there would be a guest joining him and of course, Alfred told Y/N. She was more than excited to have someone visiting the manor. It had been lonely since Dick struck out on his own. He visited but it wasn't the same as having a kid running around the manor. 

"Who might you be?" Y/N said approaching the boy who Bruce helped out of the Batmobile. He was rather lean for his height but his eyes looked like they sparkled as if the world never did him wrong. Y/N felt a pang in her heart and she looked towards Bruce who avoided her gaze.

"Jason Todd. You're on TV." He recognized the woman from the TVs that were on display in the stores that he passed as he walked down the street. Alfred had rushed back upstairs to fix the young boy something to eat.

"Sometimes, how would you like to stay with Bruce and me?" She had already decided that he would stay. She couldn't let the boy go back to whatever back alley Bruce found him on. 

"I'd love to," The boy's eyes twinkled once more as he smiled at Y/N.

Jason: Age 16

Jason was a good kid. He promised Y/N that he would be a good kid. He got good grades, and he excelled at English. Entering his teenage years, he only grew closer and more protective of Y/N but Y/N still saw him as the lean little boy who tried to steal the hubcaps off of the Batmobile. 

"Why is my son here?" Y/N asked, not even bothering to sit in the principal's chair. Her son had not a scratch on his face but he did have a bruised knuckle that definitely wasn't from patrol.

"He got into a fight, Mrs. Wayne," The principal of Gotham Academy said a bit smugly. Jason hated it here. He loved the teachers and learning but the kids were assholes. Not all of them, but the ones who thought he didn't belong because he wasn't born to the money. Kids could be cruel.

"Jason?" Y/N tilted her head towards her son, softening her gaze.

"He was making fun of me for being adopted and my accent," Jason spoke differently than the preppy kids of Gotham Academy but Y/N always encouraged him to speak how he wanted. His words were a part of him and he shouldn't have to change it for anyone.

"So my son was being bullied and he defended himself. Does that sound good to you, Principal Paulette?" Y/N gave the fakest smile known to the man while brushing faux loc behind her ear. 

"It sounds perfect, Mrs. Wayne," Principal Paulette simply groaned. 

"C'mon, Jason. We're getting ice cream." She smiled and waved for her son to follow her out of the office.

-

"Bruce is gonna be upset you're rewarding me," Jason said mixing his bowl of scooped chocolate chip ice cream together until it became the consistency of soft serve. He couldn't meet her eye yet. He felt like he had disappointed her and that maybe she regretted keeping him. What he didn't know is that he could never do anything that would make her not love him.

"You know I'll always love you, right? No matter what those kids say," Y/N said reaching over the table to ruffle his hair. He styled every morning with an absurd amount of gel but it didn't look like him.

"I know, ma, I know," He heard the words and wanted to believe them but he already decided that he'd leave and find his real mother. In his mind, she wouldn't miss him anyway, right?

"Good 'cause you my baby boy," She said with a bright smile.

-

He was in pain and cold. His mind was drifting in and out of consciousness. The faint beeping of the bombs was heard in the background and tears fell from his eyes as he realized this was his end. This was it. He was gonna meet the great big man in the sky and he didn't get to say goodbye to Y/N. He could die with disappointing Bruce but Y/N. Y/N had never seen him as more than a boy because that's what he was. He was just a child who didn't get to say goodbye to his mom. 

Jason: Deceased

Y/N was pacing a hole in the carpet. She stood in the study of Wayne Manor waiting here something, anything, back from Bruce. He hadn't contacted her since he left to find Jason and that was days ago.

"You said he'd come back," She said as Bruce walked through the grandfather clock entrance of the study. She noticed there was no Jason, she could hear his laughter like he normally did when he returned from a night out.

"Y/N," Bruce could see his wife about cry right in front of them. She tried to blink away tears so that they wouldn't fall down her brown cheeks. He could tell she hadn't been sleeping with Jason missing.

"You went to go get him. Where is he?" Y/N asked again with a bit more authority. 

"Honey, sit down. Alfred, bring her some tea," Bruce was trying to put the words together but Y/N simply fell apart on the couch. 

"No, don't tell me that, "She knew exactly what that meant, "He was just a baby," She whispered as Bruce held her in his arms. 

Jason: Age 22

"Ma?" Jason called for her as she was putting Martha and Alfred down for a nap. Y/N walked out of the nursery and closed the door behind her. His mom had aged a little since she took him home but not too much. Sure she had grey hairs mixed into her silk press but she was still the exact same woman who loved him at first sight.

"Yeah, Jason," She looked up at her son with a bright smile. Jason now towered her but he'd always be her baby boy. 

"I'm sorry," Jason said quickly. He had been holding it in since he died. He never told anyone but in the last moments before his death, he regretted not telling Y/N he loved her more and how much he'd miss her.

"What are you sorry for?" Y/N asked tilting her head slightly. 

"I'm sorry for leaving that night. I'm sorry for hurting you. I never wanted to hurt you," Jason's voice cracked as he moved to hug his mom. He didn't know how much pain one decision could cause.

"Oh, baby," She said rubbing his back. She felt tears coming to her eyes as she felt his on her cheek. 

"I'm sorry, ma, I'm so sorry," He muttered over and over again. His face had flushed red against her brown skin. Bruce had seen the moment but decided it was best for him not to interfere but he was happy to see Jason working through his emotions.

"You're here now and that's all I've ever wanted, okay? How about some ice cream?" Y/N said pulling away gently. Ice cream was one of her biggest pregnancy cravings so now they have a lifetime of Bluebell in their deep freezer.

"Yeah, ma," Jason spoke with a small smile. He was finally back to a sense of normalcy. 

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

Wibta if I tell my English teacher that her trigger warning was not a proper warning?

My [17] grade 12 English teacher assigned us to read the book Oryx and Crake by Margaret Atwood. We are reading about a quarter per week. Before we read the book she said that she thinks that there should be trigger warnings in English class and told us that the book contains some very mature subject matter, and that if we wanted a more detailed list we could talk to her after class. I already knew what the mature subject matter was from a friend who took her class last semester (for those of you who have read the book, I'm talking about the section called "HottTotts"). This is where the issue arises. I think that she should have just told us what topics to expect instead of giving us a vague warning about "mature topics". I feel like her asking us to speak with her later could intimidate or alienate students, because we don't know her.

TlDr: the book we were assigned for English class deals with heavy topics and we were a vague trigger warning with the caveat that if we needed more info we could ask the teacher directly. Wibta if I addressed my concerns about her vagueness?

Glad to provide more info if needed I don't know if I've hit all the marks I need to to paint a full picture of the situation

What are these acronyms?

[oldqueergrandma]

If you are a parent, parent-figure, or grandparent, this is for you.

If your kid falls down on the playground and sprains a wrist, it isn't your fault. It's just a thing that happens. Your job, as a caregiver to that kid, is to get them to a doctor (hospital, urgent care, etc.) Your job is to find them the appropriate care, and support their emotional needs, too. Your kid is scared, hurt, embarrassed, and worried.

And any good parent is going to set aside their own feelings to be there for their kid.

With me so far? Good.

As a child myself, I was Having Problems In School. This was the end of the 70s/beginning of the 80s. Neurodivergence was mostly perceived as either "Rainman" or "Little Boy Can't Sit Still Syndrome." I have ADHD and was a weird little kid.

I had to get to 2nd grade before a teacher helped my parents figure out what to do. That teacher explained my issues to my mom. (My mom, the lifetime certified k-12 English teacher with a minor in psychology.)

My mom had an extremely common response to this: she panicked. She took it personally. She acted like this teacher was calling her out as a Terrible Parent.

My teacher held her hand, and very gently but firmly told her, "This isn't your fault. There's no one at fault. But your kid needs help, needs therapy, needs an evaluation, so that we can give that kid what they need to succeed in school." She then used the example I described above. "If your kid fell down and broke an arm, are you going to stand around beating your breast and wailing about being a bad parent while your kid suffers? Or are you going to get your kid to the hospital, and be brave while you do it?"

Now. This is good advice for many crisis situations. The responsible, adult thing to do is to not take it personally, model good crisis behaviour, and get your kid the care they need.

But this message is for all the caregivers of kids who announce that they want to transition.

Your kid is trying to be happy, to be the person they were meant to be. That they are not happy now, and the fact that they feel like they're being shoved into the wrong life is upsetting to them. They're trusting you to help them. They're asking to be given what they need to be happy and healthy. They're asking for you to trust their judgement.

What they are NOT doing is attacking you. They're not telling you that you screwed up as a parent. They're not rejecting the precious gift of a name you gave them, even though *you* have specific emotional ties to that name. That kid is trying to figure out who they are, which is all any human being does with their life. But it might feel like that's what they're doing.

I know that it hurts, feels like rejection, and it's scary. It's probably not the first time you've had to deal with those feelings, either. Adolescents and teens often say things that hurt their parents; there's a ton of books and videos and therapists out there to help you with this extremely common situation.

From your kid's perspective, they've shared a revelation with you. They trust you to give them what they need, and to accept them for who they truly are. They're terrified of rejection or being dismissed. They're anxious that you will try to shove them back into a shape that hurts and caused them grief.

So your kid does not need for you to dump your problems on them.

Do not make this about you.

See to your kid's needs.

And find a therapist to help you deal with your own reactions.

You may be feeling grief, rejection, and fear (fear for your kid, fear about what people will think, fear you can't articulate.)

You may be angry as a result of that fear. You may want to just check out because of the grief.

But any time you feel yourself emotionally reacting, ask yourself, "Would this be the right way to react to a medical crisis?"

My 2nd grade teacher saved my life. Really. She got my mom's head screwed on straight, and my mother shared this wisdom with many parents through the years as a teacher herself.

So take some profound wisdom from the woman who saved me. Process your own baggage without spilling it all over your kid. Be what your kid needs. And if this is a struggle, get yourself what you need, too. Talk to a counselor.

But above all else: this is not about you.

[dykefaggotry]

some of the gayest things i did w my girl besties as a kid that haunt me daily even though i'm almost 25

laying on the hot cement of the playground watching the clouds, talking about which boys we'd date in class, and i look over at her and notice how the sun is turning her black hair slightly red in the sun and sigh and say "i wish i were a boy, 'cause then i'd date you"

made a new best friend a little after her who was a year younger than me and i wanted to live inside her skin, a little bit, and went over to her house constantly. i drew her silly art, those weird emo blobs from the mid aughts, and she hung it up on her door. we joked about being married a lot. when i had to move away across the country, one night i was staring up at the moon while listening to a love song and started sobbing wondering if she was also looking at the moon. i never texted her again.

when i was 12 i fell in love with a girl for the first time i knew about. i had just gotten over being weirded out by gay people & when the kids in class started whispering about us being dykes, my teacher called home about it. i cried my eyes out in a red pickup truck with my mom as i told her i was in love with her, but it was fine because she was straight. i was drinking a red slushie.

once with that same girl, we went on a field trip to a nearby science museum. it was within walking distance and she held my hand the whole way, even though we were too old for it. at some point i started swinging her hand and knocking into her and laughing and eventually she just picked me up, put me on her back, and carried me the rest of the way while we laughed. at the museum, she kept finding me and holding my hand again. i went home that night, so giddy, and just kept thinking about her hand in mine and didn't even care about what the rest of the kids were whispering

in february, before that, she'd asked me which girl i had a crush on in class because i'd posted about it on tumblr. it took me a half hour to finally tell her it was her, blushing to my ears as we walked around the perimeter of the playground (we were at a small private school with less than 100 students, so even the middle schoolers got to use the playground), refusing to look at her. she told me she didn't feel like that, but i was still her best friend and she wasn't mad at me or weirded out. if one of us were boys, she said, maybe it would've worked out. her mom moved her back to california at the end of the school year. i never saw her again and she wasn't allowed to talk to me. she messaged me once, years later on here, to tell me i was pretty in a prom dress i'd tried on. she blocked me later.

i wrote down a story about her, a year later, for 8th grade english class. in it, i imagined that she'd never left, and that she'd kissed me while we laid in the grass, mixing up my stories and my life. my teacher looked at me with such a soft sadness and told me it was very beautifully written. she wanted me to submit it to a contest. it won.

[thedilfoccult]

SUBJECT OF PERVERSION // DR>CRANE X READER

—————————————————————————————————————————————————

Pairing | Jonathan Crane x Reader / Dr.Crane!Teacher x Student / Teacher x Student

Summary | Private, all girls boarding school is hell. A hormone fest mixed with underage activity and substances is the equation for disaster. To make matters worse, the new psychology teacher Dr.Crane is the topic for all girls perversions. His fixations have landed on none other than the exceeding grade, misbehaved, foul mouth student who hides herself in the corner of his classroom. With Y/N’s boarding room being on the first floor, it was an open invitation for his stalking, wanting to figure out each and every behavioural pattern she inhabited. With an attachment to the liquid courage, nights turned into days in which alcohol was drank. How Dr.Crane reacts to her intoxicated behaviour and mischief in his classroom leads to nothing but confessions of lust and actions of taboo.

Warnings | Disgusting mouth watering smut, age!gap (17/18 fem!reader x 39 Dr.Crane. I’m a dog for older men and I always have been, pls don’t read if a massive age gap freaks you or you find it offensive), stalker/pervy Dr.Crane, alcohol + cigs consumption. Just dirty filthy smut tbh. COMPLETELY fictional, maybe out of character? Just sexy Cillian in glasses & suit = authoritative figure. Power dynamic, dominant, forceful? Dr.Crane. Loss of virginity. Corrupting innocence, public-ish / risky £ex.

Notes | First published writing! I love relationship dynamics which are downright gross. A teacher x student and/or older man with a younger girl (myself) is more than a guilty pleasure. Situations that should most definitely not be taking place romantically or sexually is my most specialised writing topic. No one but me and my English teacher have read shit I’ve written, big scary for me but its anon so easier. Not expecting attention from this post or any of my writing tbh, just rotting away in my bed from depression and feel like this is the best I can do to start just doing something again. Judgement all welcome if any critic is felt, the more you hate the more it turns me on! (My father was NOT present.) I wanted to write something wrong, perverted, sexual and unseen in society. I love love love reading gross smut / fics so also if any suggestions come to mind with anything disturbing you’ve read, pleeeeassseee pass it along. Please enjoy!or don’t, I don’t really care. Mwah.

———————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————

“Who do you think the new teacher will be?” Rachel asks applying her sticky lipgloss through her heart shaped pocket mirror, smacking her lips together before snapping the mirror shut.

“Can’t be certain. Only freaks live in Gotham, they couldn’t of hired anyone good.” Y/N answers, curling the bottom of her plaid skirt between her fingers.

“It’s the fresh meat that counts. Maybe it’s a male” Rachel giggles biting her French tips.

“Like that would make a difference. Have you seen who lives in this city?” Eyebrows raised and bottom lip bitten, smirk growing. “I couldn’t be one to judge though, I’d even go as low as the joker. He’s kinda cute.” Y/N admits, causing Rachel and herself to burst into a laughing fit.

“I think the only freak here is you… I can’t blame you though, being locked up in our dorms in this fucking school is enough to drive any girl to a scar-faced psycho.” Rachel sighs in agreement.

“Shall we go? See who the new bore will be?”

Rachel stands up and reaches for Y/N’s hand, Y/N reaching out and standing with her. Linking arms, they make their way giggling and whispering all the way through the darkened halls to their psychology class, commentating on every other person passing them in the halls. With Y/N’s white shirt two sizes too big, a loose black tie that hung just below the third unbuttoned clasp and a skirt crinkled and fit to the size of a 12 year old, she was the face of trouble. Besides sneaking mass bulks of cigarettes in her luggage back to the dorms after each holiday at her parents house and breaking out to buy small bottles of vodka to entertain herself and Rachel each weekend, she was shockingly the brightest student in the final year of boarding school. The face of mischief, the mind of intelligence and the personality of a wild child, she was quite the topic of interest for her teachers. Constantly in the principles office or being called on, the only thing keeping her from getting expelled is her exceptional grades. Practically growing up in Gothams Boarding School, the faculty has become her family knowing her longer and more personally than her parents ever have. Truth was her family are loaded, spoilt and detached, not wanting to deal with Y/N’s antics as she hit her teen years, sending her away from Brooklyn to Gotham to show her truly how scary the ‘real’ world is. It’s completely backfired though, it’s given her the opportunity to truly explore how far she can break the boundaries, seeing just how much trouble she can get away with without taking it too far. Y/N has taken it too far, too many times. Drinking before school starts as Rachel and her blast music through the stereo as they untwist their hair from the overnight braids they left in, stuffing cigarettes in their push up bras to smoke in the staircase in between classes. Nobody has seemingly caught the pair yet, encouraging them to consume more and push the boundaries even further. They blame it up to boredom, lack of society and more importantly lack of testosterone.

—

Rachel guides the way to the doors of the classroom, peaking her head around the door that’s open ajar wanting to see who the new psychology teacher may be. A deep gasp escapes her lips as she snaps her head back to Y/N, jaw dropped and the sides of her lips in a slight upward curve.

“Y/N! It is a male… and he’s hot!” Another giggle leaving her lips as she practically screams her whispers.

“Shhhh, get out the way- let me see”

Low and behold, there he stood, a man with a razor sharp jawline and piercing blue eyes. Even from this distance, Y/N could see how cold they were. Opening the door slightly more to get a better look, the teacher is sat on the edge of his desk facing the classroom. He slowly directs his attention to the girl peaking her head in the classroom.

“Shit!” Y/N pulls back. “He saw me!” Shaking her hands frantically in embarrassment and guilt.

The two girls share a moment staring into each others eyes before beginning to squeal, excitedly jumping up and down.

Within seconds, their interaction is interrupted as the door swings open and the slim frame is standing in the doorway, glaring down at the pair of teenagers in annoyance through the glasses sat on his nose. Clearing his throat to get their attention, Y/N and Rachel stop in an instant and their eyes widen as their gaze lands on his face.

“If you are students in my class, I suggest you immediately take a seat inside. If not, I ask you kindly to keep walking and not disrupt those who actually are”. The sternness in his voice is close to threatening, almost daring you to say the wrong thing.

“Sorry sir” Y/N and Rachel say in unison, ducking there heads down and shuffling themselves inside. As Y/N passed him in the doorway, the scent of a deep cologne hit her nose. A scent she’s never smelt so up close before, masculine. Of course, being stuck in an all-girls boarding school it isn’t everyday she could smell the scent of a full grown man so close, so real. This sends shockwaves through her body, literally feeling the chemicals burst in her brain from the hormones being released from being so close to the opposite sex. Moving swiftly and as quietly as possible, Y/N finds a seat in the corner of the class, Rachel sitting eagerly placing herself next to her.

“Uh-Uh” The man at the front of the class says. “I don’t think so girls.” Shaking his index finger, he pauses and points directly at Y/N.

“You.” His finger drops to the very seat sat directly in front of his desk, in fact, the only empty seat left. “Front of the class, now please.” His eyes strictly stay on Y/N’s, waiting for her to move herself to her new seat. Disappointment seeped into his words, causing a wave of shame to run over her.

A heat prickled up Y/N’s neck and found itself onto her cheeks. It wasn’t the fact that a teacher had spoken to her in a slight tone in front of the class, oh god no. Much worse has happened by much scarier teachers. It was because it was a man. Who smelt nice. Who had cheekbones that could slice marble and eyes that pierced your soul. As she dragged herself off the desk, taking his words seriously, her feet barely leaving the ground and she walked to the front of the class. Luckily, no other students seemingly cared for the exchange, too busy chatting amongst themselves to notice Y/N getting a speaking to yet again. His eyes grazed over her legs as she walked up to the seat, taking in the exposed skin and landing ever so slightly on the buttons undone on her chest. His eyes seemingly bored but his mouth twirling into a half smirk. Almost as if he had laser beams coming out his iris’s, the heat spread like wildfire down her body to her core, the contact of his eyes felt as if he was eating her alive. Slumping into the desk and covering herself with her backpack, she gripped the cotton attempting to squeeze some of her embarrassment out. His eyes were glued to her the whole time as he slowly slid his hands in his pockets and took strides over to her desk.

“and your name is?” His hands slid back out and placed them both at either ends of the desk, bending over in an attempt to intimidate her into feeling small. Of course, a psychological trick to assert his dominance with his body language. Easily fooled and susceptible to being manipulated by an older, educated man, Y/N’s face grew redder and redder with fear. Or was it arousal? The heat growing between her thighs as he stared down degradingly made it clear which it was. The physiological reaction to being so close to him took her aback, made her feel like a prude, wrong in her own skin. Obviously, Y/N had been around grown men before but they didn’t have those blue eyes that stared at her bare skin below her skirt, lingering on her chest with a smirk on their face.

Staring up with her eyes wide, crossing her legs over and attempting to squeeze the foreign feeling away, her small voice coating in the dryness of her mouth and ears filled with the beating of her heart.

“Y/N, sir” His facial expression dropped to a chuckle. “Hmm” A small hum fell from his lips and he stands back up and walks to the front. A sense of relief trickled down her chest and she felt like she could breath again.

“Quiet please” The class slowly calmed and turned their attention to the front.

“Right… my name is Dr.Crane. I am your new psychology teacher.” Dr.Crane pauses, his eyes scanning the room. He ensures to land on Y/N’s eyes for a brief moment before taking a deep breath and continuing turning his eyes onto the remaining students in the room. “I am a highly respected psychologist at Arkham Asylum and I accept no less of treatment from you. I am here to make you pass your finals at the end of the year and if you do not, that is not my issue. I have no faults in my teaching nor in my knowledge. I take this subject extremely seriously and do not care for your lame excuses. I know how badly behaved some of you are..” His eyes land yet again on Y/N, almost as if he was speaking directly to her. “… and I know that some of you are the exact reason a new teacher had to be hired. Your behaviour pushed the last one away.” A superficial grin plastered his face. “I will not stand for it and will immediately fail you, no questions asked. Got it?”

Y/N chuckled under her breath, amused by his narcissism. Immediately regretting her choice of reaction her eyes darted to the floor, feeling the burn of how intensely he was looking at her. Sheepishly, her eyes lifted off the ground and not to her surprise a look of annoyance and down right offence had covered his face.

“Let’s begin”.

The class passes smoothly with Y/N not bringing anymore unnecessary attention to herself, feeling embarrassed that he so clearly created a strong dislike for her from the first time he laid eyes on her. Quietly copying the notes from the paused screen, she couldn’t help but have her eyes occasionally glance over at Dr.Crane, her heart quickening as she realised he too was looking at her. As the lesson wraps up and students eagerly pack their bags to run out the door, she was interrupted by the stern voice saying “Y/N, please just stay for a minute will you”. He didn’t even look up, not even saying it as a question. The words fell so quickly from his lips it’s almost like saying her name or anything to her at all was a waste of breath. “Yes, Dr.Crane”.

The class emptied and he signalled for her to come closer with two fingers, leaning back into his chair and man-spreading in a way she could peer over the desk to see. That’s exactly what she did, even going as far as to lift her chin ever so slightly to get a better look. The only thing that snapped her away from her day dream was when Dr.Crane cleared his throat, Staring at her through raised eyebrows and an amused smile.

“Y/N. No more repeats of today in any other of my lessons, do you understand? I need you to behave for me. I’ve seen your grades but the other teachers have warned me of your attitude. I will fail you if you do not do the things I need you to.” I need you to behave for me. She felt herself squeeze the empty space between her thighs as the result of his words. Personally, she didn’t think she even behaved even slightly out of sorts at all, it seemed like he was just picking on her. To be honest, she’d prefer his negative attention over no attention from him at all.

“Will do sir.” Considering this was the closest she’d ever gotten to a man in her whole 17 years of being alive and he was considerably attractive, it didn’t take long for her touch-starved, horned up teenage mind to take control of this. In the silence she pictured him bending her over the desk, her ass bright red and burning with his fingerprints. She imagined her underwear and skirt pooled around her ankles as he pounded into her unforgivingly, tearing her apart from the inside and abusing her pussy to his liking. The thought alone could’ve made her whimper. The air turned tense and thick with the silence as her imagination filled the space between them, almost as if he was listening to her every thought as he stared into her eyes waiting for her next move.

“And one more thing. I’ll have to issue you a dress code violation” A fake half-smile plastered his face, slowly turning into a fake half-frown in an almost mockingly like manner.

“What? Why?” Confusion took over Y/N’s face.

“Your skirt is incredibly…” his eyes leave hers and shamelessly stare at her legs, even slightly lowering his head for a second to peek lower “…short”. His face scrunched up in cringe.

“Oh… no other teacher has mentioned it. Maybe you just shouldn’t look then” Y/N shrugged both shoulders, grinning innocently at him.

Her sudden attitude took him aback. “Young lady. Don’t speak to me like that. I expect it to be at least ironed by next class.” His voice liquid smooth and low, almost entertaining her attempt of arguing back. “If its not, I will have to deal with it myself. Do you understand?”

Please do.

“I understand sir.” Y/N was obviously not going to change anything about her appearance for him. The fact that he even suggested something about her skirt made her insides buzz.

“Now go.” He shooed her away. I don’t want you be late for your next class.” Dr.Crane stood up and walked her towards the door, his hand guiding her on the dip in her back. Though he touched her through her skirt, the skin in which he made contact with was on fire, vibrating around the dents in his finger tips. Before Y/N could walk both feet out, a firm grip caught her just above the elbow causing her to snap back at him. His eyes strict and focused on hers.

“Behave.”

—

“How was your quickie with Dr.Crane?” Rachel teased at lunch, grabbing her breasts as she moaned his name.

“I wish. My insides were on fire. I was dripping with every word he spoke.” Y/N played along, nudging her.

“Oh I bet. He’s incredibly sexy. No doubt the whole school will be dropping their panties for him. Practically legs spread on his desk begging for it.” Rachel winked over at her.

“I’ll be the first too. Do you think he’s staying on campus?” Y/N was suddenly filled with questions. The thought that he too may be living on campus was exciting, for her fantasies and drunk escapades with Rachel will be that much more interesting. She imagined herself ‘accidentally’ stumbling into his dorm after one too many, knocking on his door as he’d open it and take advantage of her. Her clit pulsed as her mind played with the idea that he would even want her sexually, it was exhilarating.

“We’ll find out. We should sneak out our dorms tonight and see if we can find him to, you know, stalk for educational purposes?”

“Good idea Rach, come to mine for a few drinks first? Liquid courage?” Y/N suggested.

“You know me too well” Rachel gleamed and brought Y/N into a hug.

—

5pm read on the clock in Y/N’s dorm. The room was filled with the bass of guitars from The Beatles blasting through the stereo. A half empty bottle of vodka sat cap-less on her cupboard that had all sorts of lace bras and panties spilling out each of the drawers. Empty cans of Coke Zero covered the floor, some who had fallen and some still stood upright.

“It’s already 5 Rach, we should get to his class to see if he’s still there” Y/N excitedly jumped up from the bed, placing her empty glass next to the bottle.

“Just give me a second” Rachel downed the last third left in her hand and pinched her nose and eyes at the taste of alcohol. Walking up to the dresser, she grabs a bottle of her Victoria secret perfume and gave herself and Y/N a few sprits. “We probably stink of it. Better safe than sorry”

The pair open the door slightly as move through the crack, wiggling their way of the room. Practically tip toeing, they leave the hall of their dorm undetected and onto the school field on route to their psychology class. Although 5pm isn’t late, the wardens are strict on after school hours and students being allowed out especially on school nights.

Finally arriving at the science building, the girls hide two doors down peaking their head around the corner.

“You go!” Rachel whispered.

“Why me? What happens if he sees me?” Y/N practically shouting back.

“This was your idea… also I’m nervous.” Rachel giggles. “Also, he’s spoken to you more. If he sees you he might not be as mad”

“I highly doubt that. I don’t think he likes me too much I-“ Their conversation interrupted by a door swinging open. To be more exact, the door two doors down swinging open.

Y/N’s heart drops and both girls eyes go wide.

“Who’s there?” Dr. Crane’s voice fills the empty hall. “I can hear you, you know. You shouldn’t be out of dorms at this time until dinner is prepared. Show yourself to me”

Rachel pushes Y/N out from their hiding space, signalling her to go. ‘This is your chance’ Rachel mouthed.

Dr. Crane sighs as he snaps his head at Y/N’s sudden appearance. “Hi Sir”

“And how can I help you this time?” Dr. Crane seems almost relieved to see her? Y/N wasn’t great at picking up hints, especially from a male but his voice wasn’t filled with disappointment as it was earlier in the day.

“Um… I’m sorry to disturb you I- maybe I- left something in the classroom?” Y/N wasn’t even sure what she was saying, her heart pounding thickly in her chest and causing a warm heat to burst on the skin covering her. She felt like she was going red, which in turn made her go even redder.

“Ah, I see. Well… come in” He swiftly turns around, not even bothering to hold the door for her. By the time she reaches the door, it’s slammed shut in her face.

‘Fuck’ she mouths to Rachel, who returns the favour by shooting her a double thumbs up.

As Y/N enters the classroom, Dr. Crane is already sat comfortably on his desk with his head in paperwork. She moves slowly and carefully attempting to not make any sound as the air is pressing down on her lungs making her feel unwelcome to be in his presence.

Without breaking his eyes off the paper laying on his desk he voices “You’re nervous.”

She stops in her tracks and to look up at him without raising her head, her eyes trailing up from the desk to meet his. “No I’m not.” A fake confidence overtakes her words, eyes rolling to the back of her head.

“Are you insulting my intelligence, Y/N?” His chin raising to look at her through his squinting eyes. “You’re a smart girl. You know you didn’t leave anything in my classroom.”

“I am not, Dr. Crane. I’m just here to see if I’ve left my notebook at my desk.” She gives the desk a quick scan from a distance feeling the pulse resuscitate between her legs from earlier, a dull ache filling her panties. She only just met the man, it’s as if he had a chemical attached to him that made her react so physiologically to him. How degrading he was, how blunt and intelligent yet insulting he could be.

“Hm, interesting. Considering you had your class with me after snack and it is now, what? 5:30 in the evening? You’ve only just come back now to find something you left here, in my classroom, 6 hours later? If I didn’t know any better I’d think you just came back here to see me.” His words filled with pride and a sense of accomplishment he presses down on Y/N. Enjoying to watch how flustered she becomes and the darkening red that spreads across her perked chest and soft cheeks. The sight of her now standing with her loose tie exposing her neck and white knee socks, noting how the left side is slightly more pulled up than the right, anxiously holding one of her arms in her hand rubbing to relieve some of her tension was enough for his pants to tighten around his crotch. Though he’d only just met her, he knew this would be a fun year for him. How long until the girl breaks for his cock? How long until she can’t stand the pulsating he can almost see up her skirt and makes a filthy, inappropriate move on her psychology teacher. The thought of sexually tormenting her by saying the right things and just enough skin contact to make her melt appealed to him. It got him stiff through both his underwear and suit pants to the point if he stood up now, she’d be able to see his print so perfectly. He wanted to test just how much pressure he could place her under, just to see her squirm under his dominance.

“I think you’re wrong Dr. Crane… I did lose my notebook, clearly not here” Y/N felt intrigued by his ability to read through her, how his intelligence answered him for her. She uses her attitude in a defence to try and bring authority to herself.

“My mistake… Y/N. Please forgive me for assuming such a thing.” A grin covered his face and she knew he was mocking her, almost making fun of how pathetic her excuse was to just end up in his classroom. “If I may, I will walk you back to your dorm. If I see you out of your room one more time this week I will be bringing it up to the higher up, understand?” Y/N quickly, almost too eagerly, shook her head in affirmative. “Good girl”.

The nickname ran fire through her blood, tears forming on her thighs as the praise made her feel somewhat proud, like she’d done something correct and it was her reward.

Walking towards the door this time he holds it open for her, smirking at her and giving her a look up and down on her behind as she walked in front of him. Little did she know her game had been reversed, Dr. Crane using this as a perfect opportunity to find out where his student lived. He would find out anyway, already planning on viewing it on the school system to know which room and block she stayed so that he could make accidental walk-in’s to her on weekends and after-schools.

“You are… 17?” He finally breaks the minute long silence between them.

“Yes sir, 18 in 3 weeks.” She gleams her pearly whites at him in proudness of her age.

“How exciting. Anything planned? I mean- for all you can do in a boarding school.” She notices how he’s inanimate when he speaks, almost emotionless and stone cold. It sounds like he doesn’t care but the question itself is curious.

“Obviously not” She puffs out. This was a complete lie of course, she already pre-bought the alcohol her and Rachel were to be consuming that night in her room after hours.

“I don’t believe that, Y/N. I feel you do things that the adults can’t see.” His eyes are menacing and threatening towards her but in a way, Y/N finds it seductive.

“Of course not sir, you can ask everyone- I’m exceptionally behaved.” Her sarcasm fell off her lips, playfully teasing herself as she’s well known for her bad behaviour. Dr. Crane felt the bulge growing in his pants, screaming to be stroked. He peered down and snickered at the tent pointing up at him. Sir. It drove him wild. He imagined her pretty, lying mouth around him, gagging on the base of his cock as she tearfully looked up helplessly at him. Her mascara smudged all on her eyelids and her waterline, whimpering as moans couldn’t fit out of her mouth. This did him no favours of course, only pulling on his erection and making his chest breath heavily in desire.

They finally arrive at Y/N’s dorm and he almost wanted her to see the hardness that he had become by her presence alone. Perfect, he thought. She lives on the first floor. Taking note of the window placed so perfectly around a family of bushes. She stood in her door way and turned to say thank you. Dr. Crane stood there with his bottom lip between his tongue and glancing at his crotch. Y/N too glanced down, breathless from the bulge poking out at her. Her eyes lingered for a second taking the size of him in as her mouth fell open ajar and her lips bitten in her teeth. The pulse in her panties began beating rapidly, both of their parts begging to be touched by the other. She wanted nothing more but to grab him by the collar and have him throw her onto the bed. Hungrily grabbing her clothes off and leaving the deepest of purple bruises along her tits. She had never felt the touch of a man before but in this instant she only had the image of him rolling his hips so deeply into her she could feel in him the core of her stomach. The alcohol of course didn’t help, sending her mind into a frenzy with false confidence.

“Dr. Crane.” She nodded and slowly started to close the door.

“See you tomorrow, Y/N.” Dr. Crane held her eyes in his as she wooden frame came between them. The second he was out of sight, he moved swiftly out of the dorm and out to the side of the building, perfectly ducked down behind the bush right outside her room. His eyes glued onto her window, watching her every move not knowing she was being watched by him. He prayed her curtains remained open as he had a gut feeling as to what was about to happen.

As soon as the door was closed Y/N reached for the tie on her neck, throwing it onto the bed carelessly. The smell of alcohol passing her nose as she threw it. Her small fingers couldn’t unbutton her shirt fast enough for her liking and she growled in annoyance, practically tearing the shirt of by the end. Hooking her fingers underneath the thong under her skirt she ripped it away from her heat, hissing at the cold air hitting her exposed swollen pussy. Throwing herself onto the bed, she snatches the tie and shoves it in her mouth, gagging herself from making noise as the walls were paper thin.

Mouth agape to what is occurring in front of him, Dr. Crane palms his cock through his pants, groaning at the sudden pressure on top of his erection. He hungrily rubbed faster, frustration began to pent up in his lower core as he knew his hand doesn’t feel nearly as good as hers.

Y/N reaches down and in small but increasingly fast motions draws circles on her clit to release the built up tension in her core. Arching her back and twirling her neck in pleasure, Dr. Crane fastens his pace on his own, in shock of how pretty she looked moaning for him. The tip of his cock pulsing beneath the fabric, begging to be rubbed.

“That’s it, my pretty girl.” His hands swiftly unbuttoning his trousers and his dick springing out onto his hand. Blood had filled him completely, not caring of his surroundings or how he may be caught. He begins to pump furiously at himself, attempting to match her pace through the window. “Finger yours-“ His groan interrupts him. “You can take it.” Dr. Crane imagines how she would sound beneath him, how tight she’d squeeze around his throbbing cock milking him for all he has.

As if she could hear him, her middle finger slowly pushes past her entrance. Y/N winces at the sudden contact and a tear forms in the corner of her squeezed shut eye. Her head snapping towards the window. Without flinching or a fear of her seeing, Dr. Crane stroked faster and shorter to release the knot forming within him, his balls tightening up and paining him to cum on himself.

“Oh fuck… cum for me baby.” His head falls back but instantly snaps up, not wanting to miss a second of the show in front of him. “I bet you’d feel so tight around me.” Everything around the teacher had vanished, all that was real was the teenager rubbing herself in front of his eyes and his pulsating hardness in his hand. Pre-cum began to spill painfully slow down his shaft as he continued to pump without mercy.

As the circles become messier with each rub Y/N was turning and her fingers slowing down with each pump, her moans were muffled by the tie that was soaking in a mixture of her saliva and spilled vodka. Bucking her hips up as the knot in her stomach came to a climax, undoing herself on her bed in front of her teacher without her knowing. Screaming in a mixture of pain and intensity, Y/N saw stars as her legs shook out her high.

Dr. Crane stood outside with his knees falling weak, becoming sloppier with each stroke at the sight of his student cumming in front of him. A low groan escapes from his lips as he chases his high, wishing he could cum inside her and fill her for the rest of the night. He wanted to empty himself into her hole and pull her apart to see the ruin he created of her.

“You cum so easily I- fuck.” He takes a sharp inhale of breath. “You feel so good baby- touch yourself again”

Y/N turns to her side in an attempt to regain her composure of the intense release she had brought onto herself, exposing the bottom of her asscheeks and the puddle her pussy had squirted on her blue bedsheets. “Please.” He silently cries in frustration knowing she had finished pleasuring herself.

“So wet for me” Dr. Crane was in agony, tears brimming on his waterline as ecstasy took over. He knew she had finished, all that could bring him to his finish was squeezing his eyes shit and imagining his palm was hers.

The sight of the mess she made alone was enough to send Dr. Crane off the edge, his chest puffing out quick and heavy breaths before a deep animalistic groan conjured from his lips. He stared down at his angry, red cock that shot ropes of his cum onto the bushes in front of him. He jolts at his orgasm and imagines filling her up, shoving himself deeper with each thrust as he empties himself into her.

Slowing down his rhythm and whimpering in pain as he wishes how badly it was her soft hands wrapped around him instead. His hips twitch uncontrollably at his climax and shamelessly places his softening cock back in his pants. His right hand covered in filth, he wipes it quickly on a leaf in front of him and walks off to his dorm. A smirk covered his face for the remainder of the evening, each thought he had of her touching herself sending him back to his perverted pleasure.

—

The next day, Y/N sat down in front of the class as normal after walking into the room with her arm linked with Rachels. Dr. Crane sat at his desk as his eyes followed her into the room and a grin plastered his face. The sight of her at her desk with her legs slightly spread exposing her white cotton panties with her skirt still incredibly short and crumpled sent anger down his spine as she hadn’t listened to his warning the day before, mixed with a twitch in his cock at the sight of her bare legs.

The class commenced as they shared occasional small glances, Dr. Crane taking every chance of silence he got in the class to scan her frame as she anxiously bounced her leg feeling the pressure of his presence around her. He didn’t trust himself around her after last nights occurrence so he avoided her like the plague, planning his next visit to her window that night.

The class had finished without any interaction of words between the pair, Y/N feeling defeated as she thought he could maybe, possibly, just want to speak to her after class again. With a huff of defeat, she left the room and continued her day as normal.

Little did Y/N know, for the next three weeks Dr. Crane had been making his nightly visits to her window, peeping in with his notebook in his hand writing her every mannerism, habit and character down as if she was his study subject. He noted how she mostly wore white when out of uniform. How she’d rarely, if ever, wear no bra under her thin shirts that delicately covered her erect nipples. She liked to dance half naked and preferred to keep her pussy covered when she touched herself. Her undergarments had ribbons or frills and the occasional lace bra would be completely see through. Her room was a mess, taking note of the dirty laundry that carpeted the floor or the empty food wrappers that laid around the elevated surfaces and even the unmade bed that she left every morning before class. She didn’t have much friends, nor did she do much homework. Occasionally Rachel would join her in her room where they’d be giggling and gossiping to ungodly hours of the morning. Annoyingly, the fact he didn’t do her homework got under his skin. She was incredibly smart naturally too and he felt it was as if it were a threat to himself. He also noted most importantly her downfalls, viewing them as a window of opportunity to attack again.

Alcoholism.

He watched three out of five days at least four drinks would lubricate her throat. If he was lucky, he’d catch her and Rachel twirling tongues in an attempt to release the hormonal pressure that came with going to an all girls school. He would begin to rub at his clothed dick as Y/N straddled Rachels lap in a drunken state, placing her soft lips on hers and delicately flicking her tongue across Rachels lips. The girls would break away and smile at each other as a hint that their actions were purely friendly and for experience, Dr. Crane hungrily fisting himself to his climax as he finishes on the same plant that had been covered everyday for weeks now. Her 18th birthday had been approaching fast and he had enough notes of his subject of desire to corner her in his classroom, when they were to be alone he could pounce like predator to prey, having his way with her like he knew she so desperately desired.

—

Finally, the day had come. The classroom fills with students and voices who slowly take their seat in Dr. Cranes psychology lesson. Unknowingly to those around her, Y/N and Rachel had been drinking since 6am. The excuse this time was that it was Y/N’s birthday, using the date as a justification to their intoxication. She was drunk… and she stank of it. Her difference of behaviour, slurring of speech and slowed sloppy laughs, the little trip she did as she walked into the door immediately told Dr. Crane what state she was in.

Perfect, drunk and helpless.

The class had commenced as she stared glassy eyed up at the teacher who much more now than ever made her feel a burning sensation run through her veins. Todays topic; fear and arousal. The liquid had sent her mind into a frenzy which craved, begged, to be violated by her psychology teacher. The words he spoke of the topic was music to her ears, drunk on his descriptions of how these chemicals affected the human body. She was vibrating at all nerve ends with a desire only he could satisfy. Tearing a corner of her notebook off, she messily scribbled the words ‘I can’t take it. The things I’d do to get him to bend me over the desk and break me into two’. Turning around obviously, the note was darted across the room to Rachel. As her eyes scanned what Y/N had written to her, Rachel looks up and smirks in agreement.

‘Make your move, I’m sure his balls are filled living in these headquarters’.

Y/N giggled at her best friends response, clit aching as she imagined how incredibly horny he felt living alone with a bunch of hungry, angry teenage girls.

‘All I’ve learnt from this lesson is that if fear is similar to arousal, I must be terrified.’

Before Y/N got the opportunity to continue the written conversation and throw back her response, Dr. Crane had caught her in the act.

“Y/N, what do you think you’re doing?” walking over to her desk he snatches the crumpled paper out of her hand. The slight graze his fingers passed along to hers made her whimper at the sudden contact, desperate for him to touch her more.

“Um… I-I’m sorry sir.” Y/N neck snapping back to Rachel who looked guilty as murder.

“Passing notes? Seriously? Are you ten years old?” He practically spat the words out in venom. “Don’t even bother going to your next lesson, you’re staying here and making up for the lesson you’ve lost with your childish behaviour.” Perfect, perfect, perfect.

The end of the class couldn’t come sooner, anticipation fuelling the tent in his pants to become gruelling. Only just as he sat down did he unfold the paper and have his eyes scan the words she wrote. Such a whore for me. To her dismay, she watched as he read the paper and with little to no reaction in his face, folded it back up and sighed as he darted her a stare. A heat ran up her neck and face and prickled at the sensation of her cold hands attempting to hide her embarrassment. So easy, so desperate.

As the room now emptied it was only Dr. Crane standing confidently with his arms crossed staring down at his A grade student.

“Are you that desperate that you would want me to fuck you in front of your classmates” The words practically oozed out his mouth, dripping right onto her as she laid there in the filth. The bluntness threw her off guard, her eyebrows knitted tightly together in guilt.

The alcohol had taken over her consciousness, gifting her a newfound pride in her attempt to lure him. “Yes, Dr. Crane… I would do anything.” Puppy eyes staring up at his piercing ones.

“Anything hm?” He took strides towards the left side of her, his hand grabbing her cheeks and forcefully attaching her eyes to his. “You know, I’ve been watching you Y/N. Such a silly thing to show your teacher which dorm you live in.” Y/N’s eyes widened at the confession, wanting to hear more. Her face so close to his crotch she could basically smell him, feeling the pulsations in the pants on her face.

“You-you have?” Her voice a small whisper.

“Oh yes. Your behaviour is quite horrible don’t you think.” His grasp on her face tightens as he speaks through his teeth.

“Did you like what you saw?” Silence.

A chuckle had exited his lips involuntarily, remembering how each night since they first met he had been ejaculating over the bushes that surrounded her room.

“Do you know how badly I want those pretty lips of yours to be wrapped around my cock instead of the vodka bottles you drink nightly?” He loosened his grip and pulled her chair out, now she sat directly underneath him.

“I can’t help it sir, I love the feeling it gives me.” Trying to remain innocent as if her pussy hadn’t starting to salivate against his words.

“Oh yeah? I can show you something better.” He reached down and grabbed a fistful of her hair, pulling her by the scalp as she winced in pain and threw her agaisnt his now emptied desk.

“Such a whore for me. Have you been wanting this Y/N?” He threateningly stood over her and pressed his pulsating erection against her stomach, lifting her up by her neck and pushing her up to sit on his desk. As she readjusted herself on his desk, he forcefully spread her knees with his elbows and dipped his fingers down onto her cotton covered clit in agonisingly slow circles, earning a gasp from her lips.

“So badly Dr.Crane-“ Her wince interrupting her as she spoke. “Please… touch me harder”

His fingers circled around her clothed clit as he stared down in disgust at her reaction to his touch.

“So desperate, so sensitive, so wet” He snapped his fingers back from the dampened circle on her panties and she jolted at the sudden lack of pressure, moaning eagerly to have his touch back on her. Dr. Crane lowered himself onto his knees and moved her panties to the side. “Don’t be so impatient, you look pathetic” Y/N moved the side of her head onto her shoulder, wanting to hide from her embarrassment from how badly she wanted him.

“Have you ever been touched by a man before Y/N?” His breath hitching as he exposed her, so close to her that the hot air leaving his mouth caressed her slit. “So beautiful. So pure.”

“Never… only myself” The nerves of what was unfolding started to knot in her stomach, causing her to squirm uncomfortably, bucking her hips as a sign of encouragement to touch her again.

“As I’ve seen-“ His thumb beginning to circle her now exposed slit, slowly adding his index finger into her entrance with little to no resistance from the arousal fluid that coated her. A small moan fell from her mouth as she felt her walls stretch from the foreign feeling. “So sensitive” He whispered in almost disbelief. His eyes stuck on her every reaction to his touch as he was in awe of how weak she had become under his him. Pumping harder and faster as she stretched to one finger, curling his knuckles to violently tap the rough spot inside her. He swiftly added a second finger and she bucked her hips in shock of the size increase, not use to even the size of her own fingers Nevermind a grown man’s. A hiss fell from her lips as she snapped from her daze and their eyes met.

“You can take it.” He said encouragingly “How will you be able to take my cock inside of you if you can’t even fit my fingers?” A knot already started forming at the bottom of her stomach as it got harder and harder for her to breath in normal. His lips naturally found their way to her slit as he removed his thumb and replaced it with his tongue. He hungrily ate at her as if it was the last pussy he’d ever touch, his tongue flat and licking her from top to bottom. As his fingers picked up the pace his tongue became sharper and darted in circles around her clit, sucking at her and filling the room with wet slapping and suction noise. Y/N felt dirty, her inner thighs now covered in what she could only guess was her arousal and his spit.

“Oh yes Dr. Crane. Please- I- I’m so close” The knot became tighter and tighter in her stomach as he felt her walls clenching around him. Her head swung back in pleasure as she started hearing white noise and seeing stars. Her legs began to tremble around his face and the walls echoed her cries. As soon as the knot began to unravel he removed his lips and fingers. The cold air hit her exposed pussy and a cry fell from her lips at the sudden loss of contact and rejection from cumming.

“Please Dr. Crane, I’m begging you- let me cum” A tear had formed in the corner of her eye from her denial of climax, her chest heavy breathing in an attempt to regulate her beating heart, head snapping to his so he could see the mess she’d fallen into.

“Calm down Y/N. I want to see those pretty tits of yours.” He could barely even contain himself, he ripped at her shirt popping buttons as his aggression had taken control. Within an instant his fingers had found the clasp of her bra, holding his body close to hers as he glared down at her. Taking in the sight below him for a second before unclasping the bra that attached to her body. The cold air hit her nipples and she stared at his reaction to her, now half naked and wanting his approval.

“Mhm… very good” He practically said under his breath. Cranes cock twitched at the sight of her so vulnerable beneath him. His firm grip from her hip had now found her left tit, pinching and slapping at her breast. Wiggling in pain she looked helpless under his disposal. “You liked to be slapped Y/N? Does the pain feel good?” All she could do was whimper in response.

“It hurts sir…” He sighed in disappointment, causing him to slap her pussy fast and hard. “Fuck sir- please- I can’t take it” her eyes stayed squeezed but open enough to see how his usual gelled hair had now strands that fell loosely around his glasses and the usual pale skin was now red with lust and swollen lips.

“But you’re wet…. You’re so easy Y/N. Do you not have any respect for yourself?” He said slapping at her slit once again, feeling a sense of accomplishment from her arousal to his abuse. His fingers dropped from her chest and hooked themselves onto the top of her underwear, using his left hand to peel her panties away and his right to lift her hips off the table. A groan fell from his lips at the sight of how swollen she had gotten from how desperate she was, his cock painfully restricted by his pants.

“Take my belt off.”

She scurried her hands to his belt, undoing his pants and zipper in the process- anything to make what was to come, come faster.

“Such a good girl for me. Do you want me to fuck you Y/N?” Dr. Crane’s pants had fallen to his ankles, the tip of his cock angry red and poking out from the top of his underwear.

“Please Dr.Crane” The agony apparent in her voice.

“Please what?” Amusement had formed onto his face, eyebrows raised from her desperation.

“Please fuck me.”

“If I must… you’ll be quiet for me now won’t you? Unless you’re so much of a whore you want to be walked in on” he sighed out in almost defeat. His hips began jolting in her direction as he too was desperate for her touch.

“Yes! Anything- I’ll be good- please fuck me.” She began groaning in impatience. Her eyes dropping to his crotch, mouth agape as the print of him exposed his size. Her eyes couldn’t even take him in. With each twitch his cock getting hungrier and hungrier at the sight of her, begging to be unraveled.

With that said he sprung his cock out in front of her onto his hand, a short gasp leaving his lips at the freeing feeling. and without warning, placed his head at her entrance. He placed his hand on her hip and squeezed tightly, holding her in place as he dragged the tip of himself along her slit to pick up her wetness. The feeling of her warmth earned a low groan from him, teasingly tapping his head on her clit.

“So wet for me baby…” his head dropping between them as he held them close. His words were barely a whisper, more of a hum.

After a few lengths against her wetness he grew impatient, growling at his desperation and in one thrust pushing himself all the way to her cervix, and beyond.

“Oh fuck Y/N… fuck” He groaned around her, not used to fucking a hole so closed. “You’re so tight” He said breathlessly.

The sudden stretch of him caused her to scream out into his shoulder, biting down over the size of him that had filled between her legs. The pain of the bite didn’t stop him, in fact made him hungrier. Pulling out slowly and shoving his hips forward once more they both winced in pain and pleasure. The repetition of pulling out so far that only his tip remained within her before rolling himself so fast and hard inside of her happened a few more times before she became accustomed to his size. Each stroke earning a low moan from him and a tear from her, eventually turning into small pathetic cries of pleading.

“Shhhh.. you can take it. Take all of me like the whore you are.” His hips rolled at a faster pace as the slap of his hips caused vibrations around the room. He began to pump in and out of her at a meaner pace.

“Mhm… Just like that.” He had no more mercy in his thrusts, fucking her hole as hard and as painfully as he could. With each pump he became more and more thirsty, hungry for his climax. She was still so tight around him, punching the breath out of his lungs as he scrapped the back of her.

Y/N couldn’t even breath, never mind speak a word to him. Her eyes were screwed shut and tearful, too in pain to focus on the world around her. Soon, the pain unraveled and ecstasy had taken over. His groans were dripping in her ear as he furiously thrusted into her, his lips attached the sweet spot on her neck, sucking at her skin and playing with it between his teeth. Y/N’s body was now being pushed with each bounce between them from his aggression and desperation from finally being able to fill her up. His lips occasionally leaving her neck to stare at her face or glare down at the view of his dick slamming in and out of her.

“That’ll teach you. So badly behaved… does my cock feel good baby?” His hands had snaked up and wrapped themselves around her throat. As she tried to answer him back she choked on her words as he took the air out of her throat. His eyes stared down into her as he continued to thrust himself into her.

“Can’t answer back now can you? So pathetic and easy.” His thrusts followed the pace of his words, taunting and mocking her submissiveness.

The same knot had started to build again in the pit of her stomach as her cries began to fill the room once again. Her walls clenched tighter around him as she felt the same build up as she did before.

“Oh fuck… squeeze me just like that” his eyes rolled at the tightening pressure she gave him.

“Please- let me cum sir.” He repositioned himself to look down at her, humming approvingly at the sight of her with the smudge of her black mascara coating her eyelids and waterline, mouth dropped open and eyebrows furrowed. With great thought he decided to be kind.

“Cum on my cock darling” The nickname itself was enough to send her over the edge.

“Look at me.” In too much of a daze her eyes had closed shut feeling as if she was too pass out.

“I said, look at me!”

The sudden anger in his voice snapped her eyes open to look into this. As her climax hit she cried in pain, squeezing and clenching around him.

“Fuck. Such a good girl for my cock” Dr. Crane fucked her through her orgasm, almost making her pass out from the overstimulation. He stared down to see himself ruining her, watching as she squirted onto his pelvis and shook uncontrollably around him. His hand still wrapped tightly around her neck, the lack of oxygen and overdose of chemicals in her brain possessing her.

The sight of her convulsing onto him and soaking herself around him caused a low growl to escape his lips, unfortunately tightening his grip around her neck as he selfishly chased his own high.

“I’m- mhm- going to cum- fuck- inside you.”

He was breathless with his words.

“You’d like that won’t you?” His thrusts now abusive, hard and fast inside her as he couldn’t wait to spill his seed and coat her walls.

“Please Dr. Crane, cum for me-please” Her begs of mercy sent him over the edge. Without warning, he shot his warm load inside of her and filled her up with his substance. He swung his head back in pleasure, releasing his grip from her throat and meeting her hips again. He became sloppy as he came, knees wobbling and thrusts now kind and gentle. Y/N felt his cock twitch uncontrollably inside of her. His knees trembled on his body weight, fighting to give in over the sweet release he had found in her, humming as he felt himself empty into her and his balls straining from the intensity he came.

Breathless and wet with sweat, he remained inside of her as he lent over into her shoulder, slowly and softly now pumping in and out of her.

He ensured every last drop of his cum plastered the back of her cervix. Once satisfied he had filled her up, his hips slowly removed themselves from the under side of her thighs, his limp cock falling out soaked in both of their fluids. He placed his lips near the lobe of her ear and whispered through his panting.

“Happy birthday”

[weirdly-specific-but-ok]

sometimes i think about the fact that thru u (and rather indirectly through myself) i’m technically only one degree of separation from the actual real neil gaiman. my eleventh grade english teacher would be fangirling so bad right now. but he hasn’t answered any of my emails in the past two months so i fear the 7th graders may have eaten him.

anyway. that’s not at all the point of this.

the point is. my point. is. i read good omens five days before you somehow got stuck in this fandom. i have also never watched the tv show. who the heck is this muriel. why is there ice cream. what is going on. where are my four other horsemen off the apocalypse.

anyway. in summary. hello from the direct opposite but parallel half of the fandom. it’s been a doozy trying to keep up with things and maybe maybe maybe i’ll finally cave and watch the show. until then-

“actually, it was bloody beautiful.”

Hello anon maggot! Well, yes, I suppose that is true...? I remember back in the middle of Jan one of my mutuals said they were mutuals-in-law now with Neil. I'm afraid I have no bloody clue about how mutual culture actually works on tumblr.

I've nearly been two months on here now, but my, uh, vaguely downwards saunter on this hellsite doesn't seem to be the norm. Add to that the fact that during my first summaries of Good Omens, during the first week of Jan, I was questioning whether Neil was fictional or not.

Yeaaaaaah my life's always kinda strange I've learned to roll with it by now. I hope your (former?) English teacher has not, in fact, been eaten by 7th graders. Unless he was a tool, in which case, I hope they feasted on his mortal frame. I'm hoping that since he's a Neil fan he was not a tool and has not been consumed for sustenance by 12 year olds.

The ice cream is a brief scene in the first season, it's an easter egg for the plotline of Sadie and Dottie's whirlwind romance in season 2. I don't think that was included in the book, probably not, because they're actually a nod to characters in one of Terry Pratchett's novels I believe. Their romance is honestly the cutest, to the point that Neil resorted to using ridiculous plot threads of them to ward off people asking for S3 spoilers. But their canon romance, I mean, it's just insane. Muriel is an angel in season 2, they officiate the Sadie-Dottie union. I think they're a scrivener.

Absolutely bloody watch the show it's amazing. Really. It broke me and healed me in the best way and I need to rewatch the first season without the chaos of being newly kidnapped.

Hello to your side of the fandom from the dubiously elected official good omens mascot!! I'm terrified of reading the book because of how every time I see Crowley's name I get emotional, so it's currently sitting by me on my desk till I gain some pretence of stability (it's not possible for show fans to ever have real stability).

[gay-jesus-probably]

What was your 9/11 sona

God, I wish I remembered. Unfortunately, while the whole mess is absolutely hilarious in hindsight, back in the day I just thought it was incredibly tasteless and an insult to the people who actually lost loved ones that day (which it absolutely was!), so I was mortified to have to participate in it. But I didn't want to argue the point, cause with how subjective English is, getting on the teachers bad side will just obliterate your grade, and I'd always been in the high 90's for english so I wasn't about to break that streak over a stupid insensitive writing assignment. So I grit my teeth, wrote some shitty, generic OC, gave them a tasteless, non-offensive eulogy, then tore up the paper and threw it out the second I got the marked assignment back.

And that was about a decade ago now, so I can't remember any details about my tragically deceased 9/11sona - all I can really remember about grade 9 english is the 9/11 stuff, the teacher being really weird about demanding we say 'zed' instead of 'zee' because we're Canadian, and the look of absolute shock on her face when she informed me that I'd gotten a perfect 100% on the reading comp part of the PAT exam (still lowkey proud of that lmao). Moral of the story, don't throw out really embarrassing school writing assignments; they might be hilarious in hindsight.

...The real punchline of all this is that while I went to all that effort to avoid pissing off my teacher and tanking my marks in grade 9, in grade 10 I hit that exact problem literally before my first class had started. I had english in the second semester that year, and my older sibling had given me the book version of Les Miserables as a christmas gift that year, and I was still working on it when school started back up. So I made the terrible mistake of walking into english class about ten minutes early, cracked open my book to pass the time... and then after a few minutes of watching some punk teenager casually reading les mis, the teacher got up, asked me to step out into the hall, then led me into the classroom next door to introduce me to the AP english teacher, and inform him that I was probably better suited for his class. I had to hastily clarify that no the fuck I was not, I had three core classes that semester and a mixup with my one elective meant I was stuck in the goddamn grade 12 band class, so if I didn't have one class I didn't need to put effort into, I would die of stress. Grade 10 english teacher tried to pressure me into taking the AP class anyways, and after I kept refusing, she eventually was like "fine, you can stay in my class, but I'm going to grade you like you're an AP student the whole time."

And for the entire semester, she refused to mark any of my work higher than an 80%. Can you tell I'm still angry about that, because I'm still really fucking angry about it.

[kataiki]

Back in August of 2022, I went and got diagnosed with ADD at the age of 36. The diagnosis was a surprise to nobody and was largely just a formality, if I'm being honest.

It's kind of amazing what I got away with growing up with ADD. I felt like people just kind of let me do my thing and it just kind of worked out. It's funny thinking back on the habits I had that most people would be disciplined for.

I was drinking like 6-10 sodas a day like it's no big deal. My parents didn't think it was a problem because I was active (Dance Dance Revolution), was desperate to gain weight (120lbs at 5'10), and did well in school (graduated with honors). Looking back, I was definitely self medicating with caffeine, but like, so what?

I think I would've had a harder time if someone was like "no more soda for you!" without considering how it was helping me along without the need for prescription drugs. I also didn't like coffee at the time (before they became milkshakes), so I probably would've struggled.

I can't believe I got away with the fidget toys, the ones before they were called fidget toys. I think I always had some kind of toy in my hands, and for some reason the teachers let me keep them. Mind you, I went to Catholic school for most of my life. Discipline was paramount, and yet I was just... allowed to have my toys.

My favorite was a plastic... snake ball puzzle? I guess it's a "Rubik's Twist", but I got it out of a vending machine for like 50 cents and I loved it. It was small, quiet, and kept my hands occupied during class. It feels like the kind of thing that would get confiscated, but for some reason I was just allowed to play with it.

The worst toy I got was in high school when I discovered those kneaded gummy erasers. I sketched a lot during class (another thing I was allowed to do for some reason), but the eraser was a toy. I would sculpt things in the middle of class, and do stuff like roll out pieces to make flowers. My hands smelled like rubber, pencil lead, and dead skin all the time. It was awful and I loved playing with it.

Even in college, I had my DS out all the time. I got my minor in mathematics while going through Super Princess Peach and Mario Kart DS (twice, I lose my save at one point).

My friends were jealous of my ability to multitask, but that's the funny thing, right? I was only really able to do well because my brain was engaged in these "distractions", which gave room for all the learning to really be absorbed. It wasn't really that I was able to play and do schoolwork at the same time. It was more like... I'm only able to do schoolwork while I play. Play was necessary for learning, and for some reason I was always allowed to do that.

I remember in grade school, we had a poll in the class about "how much TV were we watching", I think it was in context of advertising or something. A lot of the kids were like 1 hour a day or a few hours a week. I asked if it counted if the TV was on while I was doing other stuff, and it did, so I clocked in at least 6-8 hours a day.

I love my mom and dad for just letting my sister and I to enjoy things. I think I always had a TV in my room, including a small 12" CRT with a VCR built into it. They didn't care what we watched, either. I think their thought was that they wanted us to learn English, but they didn't know how to teach it. They learned by watching TV, so they figured my sister and I could learn by doing the same.

I remember using my TV as an alarm by setting it to turn on automatically in the morning. The guitar riff from the Pokemon Theme Song is a great way to juice up your adrenaline every morning. 10/10, highly recommend.

It was the golden age of Edu-tainment, too. Everything from Seseme Street, Eureka's Castle, Mr. Roger's Neighborhood, Blue Clues, Captain Planet, Power Rangers, Animaniacs, etc etc was made for learning. It was mandated, and it was great. I kind of miss those days, especially when Cartoon Network turned into nothing but Gumball and Teen Titan's Go by the time I stopped watching them. There's a certain artistry in making learning fun in a way that doesn't feel like an animated classroom.

I just... don't know why all of this was allowed. Half a case of Soda a day. Video games during class. TV all day, every day. I feel like I'd be a suburban mother's nightmare, but I think it was what I needed. It's not like my parents knew anything about ADD, not that it mattered so long as the grades were good. They just let me go on auto-pilot while I jumped from interest to interest and enabled me when they could. Inadvertently, I think they did what I needed from them, even if it was against the grain of what everyone else thought would be "healthy parenting".

[aliciajadee]

I saw you’re video you made about what’s going on in your life, and I’m not sure if this will make you feel better but I’m currently struggling too. I think I made a comment about this but I can’t remember, but I had to homeschool last year (Grade 10) and then this year I decided to go to school (Grade 11). The teacher told me 2 MONTHS later that homeschooling isn’t real credits when Grade 11 is already almost over. They said my only option to graduate now is to do Grade 10 over, then 11, then 12. That’s practically 2 more years of school?? I got good grades and did tests home schooling it makes no sense. So I wanted to ask, do you think I should just leave it alone and finish grade 11, and 12 with only electives (I can’t do required classes such as math, science, and English) since I’m not planning on going to university or college anyways and I could still tell people I have Grade 12 for careers because I still would, I just didn’t technically graduate. So should I do that or should I restart Highschool over again?

you can 100% put year 12 completion on your resume. i don’t understand how a teacher can say “homeschooling” doesn’t count????? that makes absolutely no sense????? considering i know multiple people who were homeschooled and then transferred to in person and still graduated and completed high school with the rest of us. i’m majorly confused 😭

i mean if you’re not wanting to go to uni or college straight after graduating i don’t think missing a few credits from year 10 is going to be that detrimental. assuming you completed year 11 and assuming you completed and passed year 12 there’s not really any reason not to tell people that you didn’t complete year 12. you put in the work, the time and the effort and you finished the year. you completed year 12 and that’s that. you have every right to put “year 12 completion” on your resume and tell employers that you completed year 12

also if you decide later down the road that you do want to go to uni, there are sooooo many more ways to get in other than having and ATAR. i wish someone told me that sooner

[albonoooo]

thank you for the tag grandma @wanderingblindly <3

15 questions

1. are you named after anyone? no, i have a very common, basic name

2. when was the last time you cried? two days ago, i think

3. do you have kids? no and i don't plan on ever acquiring any

4. what sports do you play/have you played? i did swimming and horse riding for roughly ten years each

5. do you use sarcasm? no, never.

6. what is the first thing you notice about people? i don't think i've ever asked myself this before so i'm actually not sure. probably their facial expression and what mood they seem to be in or what energy/vibe they give off.

7. what's your eye colour? blue-grey with a hint of green. think of a puddle of rain, that's about it.

8. scary movies or happy endings? happy endings all the way. i don't enjoy scary movies and i need everything to end well.

9. any talents? no, nothing comes to mind. i'm a very average person without any remarkable, special predispositions for anything.

10. where were you born? [redacted city] in north rhine-westphalia, germany

11. what are your hobbies? i, too, enjoy being insane on the internet. any media consumption, especially reading. i love doing research on random stuff and going on walks when i have time for it and my brain lets me. i've been trying to do crosswords somewhat regularly.

12. do you have any pets? as of yesterday, my family took in an adorable cat named nala who's owner unfortunately passed away recently. she's very shy and kinda scared atm, but i hope she'll get used to us and her new home soon. the little fluff looks like toothless from how to train your dragon, she's so fucking cute.

13. how tall are you? 164cm/5'4 (i think???)

14. favourite subject in school? german and english. these subjects came the most naturally to me and were very easy to get good grades in with little effort. biology in 11th and 12th grade not because i liked it or was good at it, but because our teacher was amazing and so good she made me enjoy it.

15. dream job? no job. i wish i didn't have to work and loads of money would just appear on my bank account every month.

i'm so sorry for any double tags or if you don't wanna do this (just ignore me lol): @blueballsracing @hrhgeorgerussell @f1-giuki @borntogayz

[n0sewise]

Hi friendddd! Long time no chat 😂

I have a little idea KILLUGON BUT AS TEACHERS (do you see the vision? Huh? Huh?)

I just have a feeling that they would be good teachers for some reason! What subjects do you think they’d teach and what grade?

hey! ʕ•ᴥ•ʔ

I love this and I Absolutely see the vision!

Ok, so I do have a strong bias toward Gon in the sciences, specifically biology. It gets to tie in his love of nature and animals and I think he’d be so cute infodumping about different animals with unique adaptations to anyone who would listen, plus he could fill his classroom with tons of plants and colourful posters. He’d be a really approachable teacher and I’m going to give him… let’s say grades 10 and 11. I think he’d coach a sport too, like maybe soccer. Gon is also super perceptive and I see him as the teacher who notices if his students are tired or feeling off, and sends them into the cafeteria to get a muffin or something. Honestly 10/10, his classes would always have a great average, and I think kids would respect him a lot because it would be so obvious that he cared.

I sooooo badly wanted to give Killua English (because it was my favourite subject) but I actually think he’d teach something tech related. Do high schools still have computer labs? Is that a thing anymore? Because mine had a graphic design class (that I retained zero knowledge of) where you could learn photoshop and illustrator, and the teachers that taught those classes also did photography electives. Anyway, that’s the type of thing I think Killua would teach. I just love the idea of Killua as a design snob, and I see him being the type to keep up with trends in tech and art and showing up for class looking like a college art student. I’d give him grades 11 and 12, and there would always be at least ten students with a crush on him at any given point in time (he’d have no idea). He’s got such a great sense of humour so I see him making dry things really entertaining and making his students laugh with stupid jokes.

Maybe Killua helps out with yearbook, and he’d run into Gon when his students had to take pictures of the soccer team or some sort of biology project that won an award

OR maybe Gon is in the teacher’s lounge and Killua’s just been transferred to the school and he walks in with a massive iced mocha latte and a really tight turtleneck, and proceeds to complain about the terrible parking in this place and Gon is sort of smitten immediately.

Literally so many options I could go on forever, but I’ll try to be chill and restrain myself. I loved this ask and thinking about this au!

Thanks as always for your amazing asks 💕

[jonphaedrus]

why i hate bowling (and how this resulted in me suplexing a child into a trash bin full of water)

i wasn’t going to tell a story tonight but then i rediscovered a draft of storify tweets from my since-deleted for threatening my friends with crimes so i will instead tell the story about why i absolutely hate bowling, with my entire heart and soul, to a degree that is both irrational and probably unhealthy.

first of all, i love sock puppets. so jot that down. sock puppets are fucking rad. there is something about putting your hand in a sock and pretending to talk with it that is just so...so soothing. like making a little clay dude. 

second of all, i have a junior black belt in karate. as a child i was small, fast, angry, and just full of seething, roiling violence and rage.

third of all, i was not informed i was neurodivergent until i was 16. thanks, court mandated medical care!

so once upon a time in the tender grasp of 6th grade (age 12) before i did stupid things like “skiing accident” and “put my foot through a wall slip on a dog bed give myself a quite significant head injury by levering backwards without a counterbalance headfirst into a wooden floor like one of those drinky birds but in reverse and with exponential force compressed onto it” i was informed we were going to go on a field trip.

look, i’m from austin, texas. there are three field trips in austin, texas. you go to the alamo, you go to nasa, or you go to the bob bullock museum of texas history. sometimes, if you’re really lucky you go to galveston or something, but that’s almost never going to happen. it’s just alamo/nasa/bob bullock/alamo on repeat. you don’t just remember the alamo, you’ve got rocks stuck in your shoes from the alamo and you horrify your friends and get in trouble with the teachers by being a child with a hyperfixation special interest in davy crocket and giving graphic details about jim bowie’s death that, frankly, 5th graders should probably not be exposed to.

in 6th grade, we were told we were getting a very special reward: a NEW FIELD TRIP DESTINATION. and not just ANY field trip destionation—no! we were going to go to one of the best art museums in the city to make SOCK PUPPETS as a part of an art installation. WHO DOESNT WANT TO DO THIS? THIS IS SO FUCKING COOL.

6th grade cisboys obviously do not want to do this. art museums are for girls or weird kids and sock puppets are for babies.

well, fuck that: i wanted to make sock puppets. i got so excited. i picked my favorite pair of turtle socks to turn into puppets and brought them along on our hour-long bus ride, practically vibrating in my seat like oh yeah oh fuck oh yeah oh fuck im gonna get to make TURTLE SOCK PUPPETS it was going to be the highlight of my LIFE

so our bus finally parks and im like “wait. this isnt...the museum” and then my 6th grade english teacher, whom i loathed for so many good reasons but mostly that he was one of Those english teachers who would reply “i don’t know, CAN you?” if you asked him if you could go to the bathroom, etc, popped out on the front of the bus

“surprise!” he announced, practically radiating sunshine rainbows and like whatever it is that makes annoying grammar nerds decide that they need to grow up and become a heinous 6th grade english teacher that bullies neurodivergent kids with trauma, “i was KIDDING! we were never going to go make SOCK PUPPETS at that stupid ART MUSEUM! that’s KID STUFF. we’re going BOWLING with a PIZZA PARTY!!!”

like any neurodivergent child who has just had their entire day’s plan and all their hopes and dreams ripped from them, i immediately tackled him and gnawed his hands and feet off, stuck them on pikes, and paraded them around the bowling alley as a lesson to all those who should cross me.

no i didn’t do that: i cried for a while and then sucked it up and determined that i was going to have a good time anyway. despite the fact that a) i already hated bowling and was demonstrably bad at it b) couldn’t wear bowling shoes because of my orthodics c) couldn’t eat any of the pizza party pizza anyway because my mother is chabadnik and kept strict kosher d) as a chabadnik kid i was wearing a floor-length skirt which really isn’t conducive to bowling and e) I HAD FUCKING WANTED TO MAKE FUCKING SOCK PUPPETS.

anyway. there was this guy. who i had a crush on. and everyone knew i had a crush on him, including him. his name was grey (not some 50 shades of grey thing, really) and he got someone to come get me and was like hey grey wants to talk to youuuuu~~~~~~ and i was like oh (gasp) (blush) (sputter) he does???

so i went over to talk to him like hee hee hi grey hee hee and it turned out he’d just wanted to ask me some inane question and i was understandably let down and went back to my friends like w/e it’s just stupid boys shit™

only

when i arrived back at my friends

everyone was laughing at me.

which was like. not an entirely unexpected turn of events. i broke my nose twice that year. i kicked over an entire jar of soy wax candle onto my ankle and got a 2nd degree burn. i was, in general, a very weird, unmedicated, undiagnosed, orthodox jewish child with too much energy and a penchant for starting fights. getting laughed at was kind of par for the course.

only people kept laughing at me until one of my friends realized as i turned around what they’d done to me, because one of his friends had taped a sign to my back that said “I AM A STUPID BITCH”

texas public school says “we didn’t see this happen, we can’t do anything about it, not our problem!” so of course i hate bowling now. but this is not where this ended, oh no. because i had been tried. i had been bullied by this same kid all year and nobody would do shit about it. i could not stop him. i could not get teachers to intervene.

which is fine.

because, you see, if you give a furious small child with a black belt in karate and an unusually early growth spurt four months to plan, that small child with a black belt in karate and an unusually early growth spurt will bide their time, and wait, patiently, for the stars to align and the ultimate moment of vengeance to arrive.

you see, texas schools do this thing. at the end of may for the end of the school year, they have a track and field day. it’s different for every school—some of them do races, some of them have big tug of war and different sports for different grades. some are organized. some are chaotic nightmares.

my school was a chaotic nightmare of a place. they simply booted all of us outside in a normal 100f/37c day to get our energy out by running about, playing minimally policed “sports” and generally make a nuisance of ourselves outside, rather than indoors.

that year it was particularly hot, probably closer to 110f/40c than not, so they left out these big trash bins of water for people to stick their heads in or get buckets to pour over them to cool off. i had no sports i could play (see: floor length skirt, and also, you know, the eds kinds of makes it difficult to do shit) so rather than get involved in something to burn out my energy...i waited.

i waited through the semi-organized sports of the morning. i waited through our indoors luncheon. i waited until the free for all of the afternoon, when teachers were not paying attention.

i waited until the kid who had decided that it would be sooooo funny to tape a sign about how much of a bitch i was because i had a harmless crush on his friend to my back was playing volleyball. invested. entranced.

i went and got a trash bin of water, probably taller than i was, weighing at least triple what i did (i was a pound per inch until i was 13, so i was 63in tall and 63lbs at that time) and i dragged it down the hill. i dragged it over to the volleyball court. i opened the lid. i placed it, strategically, behind me.

there sat the subject of my ire. playing volleyball. he had not noticed me. every other kid had noticed me. his friends did not take me seriously. i was two twigs stuck together with sticky tac. what was i going to do to him?

well, see, they didn’t know i did karate.

i walked up behind the kid, calmly, cool as you please, grabbed him around the waist—

—and suplexed him backwards upside-down headfirst into the trash bin full of water and dropped him into it. and then i shut the lid on him as he tried to get turned around and spluttering, dusted my hands off, and walked away.

we ended up going to the same high school, and he saw me literally one time in the hallways and ran away so fast i would’ve thought he’d just been recognized by his unfinished homework or the three girls he was cheating on because he was football team quarterback. he did that for two years. literally never came within 20ft of me. fucking terrified of me.

anyway, that’s why i hate bowling. and is also the story of the time i suplexed a kid backwards into a trashcan full of water.

[yeonjunszn]

autumn breeze, autumn leaves

pairing lee heeseung x f!reader

word count 986

genre fluff

warnings nothing really, this is really cutesy fluff for heeseung tbh, best friends to lovers, mentions jeongin from skz and jongho from ateez, sorry jongho btw, mentions of getting ghosted?? is that a warning??, a cute kiss scene, hee’s kind of a dork but nothing new he always is

summary just like the weather, your friendship with heeseung has changed.

more HEYYY my first finished entry for my 1k event!! i’m really proud of this cause i fr wrote it in like an hour 👍👍 anyways this was the request! here u go bff @lvandrmoon

the breeze brushes through your hair and forces you to wrap your arms around yourself, your cardigan doing nothing to help the chill running down your spine.

it was mid october and the weather was finally cooling down to the point that something more than a flimsy sweater is needed to stay warm outside. the bench beneath you is cold on the skin of your bare thighs, your skirt only covering so much. it’s really pretty today, the sun bright in the sky and the oranges and browns of the leaves look extra vibrant, littering your campus nicely.

you watch as other students pass by, some rushing to get to their next class and others leisurely strolling, most likely enjoying the scenery much like you. you think to yourself that this weather would go great with a hot cocoa and someone to cuddle up to, especially when you see the plethora of couples walking around today.

a warm body slides onto the bench beside you, its arm resting on the back. you look at him from your peripheral and can’t help the smile that creeps its way onto your face. he stares back at you, expression mirroring your own.

he looks so cute today, dressed in cargo pants and a flannel. you think your heart might stop right here and right now. his beauty was unmatched and it was gut wrenching how in love with him you were. you could look into his eyes for hours and never get tired. it sucked that all you’d ever be to him was just a friend.

you’ve known lee heeseung since you were 12 years old. you met him in 6th grade english class when your teacher assigned you as table partners. both of you were really awkward and didn’t know how to communicate with someone of the opposite gender. but when you finally had to work together on a project, it turned out the two of you had more in common than you thought. from then on, you became inseparable. no one ever saw heeseung without you and no one ever saw you without heeseung.

even as you grew older, went through puberty, went into high school, went into university, that fact never changed. nothing could come between you.

“good morning, y/n,” he finally says, stretching out his limbs a bit and then apologizing profusely when he almost trips someone. “how was your 8 am?”

“decent, i guess. i slept through the last 30 minutes.” you admit sheepishly.

he gasps dramatically, grabbing both of your shoulders and pulling you closer to him than what was deemed necessary. (not that him grabbing your shoulders in the first place was necessary.) your noses are only inches from touching and you can see the flecks of honey brown swimming in his mocha colored eyes from this proximity. you’ve never been this close to him in your near decade long friendship.

heeseung blinks at you, unsure what he should do. does he kiss you? does he push you away to save face and avoid ruining what you already have? does he confess his undying love to you? despite telling each other everything, there was one massive secret that lee heeseung was keeping from you. and it was how utterly and irrevocably in love he was with you.

he figured it out junior year of high school when yang jeongin asked you to be his date to homecoming. he didn’t know why it bothered him so much that someone else was taking you. he knew as your best friend, he should’ve been supportive. he knew he should’ve encouraged you, especially because you had been so upset over getting ghosted by choi jongho, who was a senior at the time. you were hoping that he’d ask you.

at first he thought the ugly feeling in his stomach stemmed from the fact that he considered jeongin one of his close friends and didn’t think to consult with him about asking you out first. then he thought it was because he was his friend, and he didn’t want to be forced to choose sides if things ended badly. he’d always pick your side anyway, even if you happened to be in the wrong. and that’s when he started spiraling and the realization hit him.

the tightness in his chest wasn’t because he was a protective best friend. it was simply because he was jealous. he was jealous that he wasn’t the one taking you. he was jealous that he wasn’t the one who was going to match his tie with your dress. he was jealous that he wasn’t the one you were going to cling to all night. and it was because he was in love with you.

so as you both sit here on this bench in the middle of campus, gazing into each other’s eyes filled with too many emotions to decipher and leaves falling around you, you come to a collective decision wordlessly. heeseung leans into you slowly and you follow his lead, afraid of making the wrong move and messing everything up.

the wind blows by again and you shiver, causing him to move his hands from your shoulders to cup your cheeks, his thumbs caressing the skin to warm you up as best he can. his eyes dart from yours to your lips, a silent question that has you nodding almost desperately.

when your lips meet, you think to yourself that you can die a happy woman. a delightful buzz courses through your veins all the way to your fingertips. you don’t even feel cold anymore, hot to the touch from kissing heeseung. you wish you could freeze time and stay in this moment forever, holding onto each other like you were the other’s lifeline. everything feels complete for once, like you’ve finally found the missing piece of a puzzle you couldn’t solve.

and heeseung feels the exact same way.

© yeonjunszn. do not steal, claim, or repost.

[daturadiary]

✩First week✩

⋆This post is longer than what i will be posting later on, because i will include everything that happened on the first week :)

✧My first week of uni had started this Monday. Although I had some anxiety over the fact that it was a whole new environment, with new people, I was still very excited! I was looking forward to pretty notes, new lessons, going to the library, and finally studying something that i am actually interested in! Plus my friend (who I will be referring to as red) was there with me the whole time, and we ended up in the same group (the English department is separated into 3 groups in my uni because there´s so many people in it) .

✧But as always things don't go as you expect. On the first day I was supposed to have 3 classes, that went on from 12:30to 18:30. But in the end, none of my 3 professors showed up. Me and red waited for all 3 of them, when the first one didn't come, we went out to get ourselves a snack and sat under one of the trees of the uni to eat (which was very fun honestly), then went back in, hoping the others would. The second didn't show u too, so I took red on a little walk to show her a short path from the uni to the beach, then we went back. We distracted ourselves until the last hour, and so when the third didn't show up too, we just picked up our bags and went back home. Discouraged, because a first day like that, after being so excited, is not really the best.

✧The next day, I had class in the morning, but honestly i expected the same thing to happen. I meet up with red and we go to our class, sitting in the second row. We we´re using our phones talking about how unlikely it is for the professor to come, as we we´re told that most don't show on the first week, because most students don't, and that is true, not even half the classroom was full (they are much bigger than usual classrooms, but I expected more people to attend, at least the first weeks). To our surprise, comes in our professor, who later on throughout my classes with her, I will learn is the sweetest person, and for once I feel like a professor wants to help her students. We go trough how the classes will go, how she will be grading us, and other things, and we also do some exercises to freshen up our memory and vocabulary. That is how my first paragraph writing class went. The second professor doesn't show up, but me and red hang out with some of the girls in our group, we all sat on the grass under one of the trees, talking about our first class we just had other things.

✧My next two classes we´re on Thursday, I had grammar first, with the same professor as paragraph writing, which I was happy about. We started our first lesson, I took notes, the class was peaceful and enjoyable; maybe because, again, more than half wasn't present, not that I'm complaining. For my second class, guided reading, red´s favorite subject for now (nerd), the teacher showed! (not me getting excited cuz my professor was there ;-;) This professor was a bit different, but he was still very nice, also passionate (I think he really likes Hemingway). We went over what we will be studying, the short stories, plays and poems we will be studying and the we had a little discussion, he would ask us questions related to the course and we answer.

✧Side note; our professor for grammar and paragraph writing told us she will be the one to help us with clubs and anything else. Me and red talked with her at the end of the class, and we told her about our interest in clubs, she said that she had noticed the two of us smiling when she brought up clubs, which apparently made her happy. So now me and red will try to make a book club and visual arts club with the help of our professors. We we´re really worried that there would be no clubs in our uni as we found no announcement anywhere, but I'm really grateful for this professor ♡.

♡Thanks for reading till the end, I will be leaving you all with some pictures i took this week :)

.・。.・゜✭・.・✭・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.・✭・゜・。.