#paragraph on my favourite teacher for students in english

[soleilceirinen]

Renaissance | teacher!Cillian Murphy x fem!Reader - Part 6

Summary: you are an Art History student in your last year at university. Cillian is your teacher. A/N: in this story Cillian is about 20 years older than the reader. Everything happens in an alternative universe where he is not an actor or famous, he doesn't have a wife or kids like in real life. Also, English is not my first language, so sorry for any mistake! Part 5 - Cillian Murphy Masterlist - Part 7

Unlike most people, you liked Mondays. To you, it meant the beginning of a new week, a reset. But this Monday was different and so far, you hated every second of it. 

After your kiss with Cillian last Friday, you decided not to go further that night so he drove you to your flat. Once there, you said goodbye with a bunch of tiny kisses and the promise to talk later but it never happened.

You had spent the weekend staring at your phone, waiting for a reply to the text you had sent him. It just said “Good morning!” and a flushed emoji but he never answered. So, considering his lack of response, you sent him an email with your project progress, to which he didn’t reply either. 

And now, you had been sitting in the classroom for forty minutes while listening to him talk about Margaret of Austria’s portrait collection. Forty minutes in which he didn’t look at your direction at all, as if you were invisible. 

You continued taking notes until the end of the lecture, breaking the paper sheet a couple times due to the pressure with which you were writing. When the other students had left the classroom, you walked to his desk to confront him. 

“Good morning, Cillian.”

He didn’t take his eyes off the papers and books scattered around his desk when he answered you.

“Mr. Murphy is the proper way to address me, miss Y/L/N. Can I help you with something?” 

You looked at him in disbelief. 

“Well, I texted you and you never said anything back, I was worried,” you admitted. He just shrugged dismissively.  

“There’s nothing to worry about. Do you need anything else?”

“Yes, Mr. Murphy,” you said bitterly, “I also sent you a few new pages of the project so you could review them and give me some feedback.”

Cillian sighed and leaned back in his chair.

“I looked over it, it’s okay but be careful with the paragraphs and the structure. If you need something else, my tutoring sessions are Tuesdays at 11 a.m. and Thursdays at 18 p.m., you can find me at my office.” He looked at you briefly, before saying “Have a nice day, miss Y/L/N.” 

You didn't know how to react to his sudden coldness so you frowned and left the classroom with the ghost of tears stinging your eyes.

The rest of the week went by the same way, with Cillian ignoring you and only addressing you to make a comment about your project. As far as you were concerned, you had no idea what could have caused that change in his attitude but it made you feel quite miserable, just to think of what could have been and wasn’t. 

After a long morning of lectures you were finally free to go and have lunch. You and Olivia had met to eat at a Japanese restaurant near the university. Once seated at your table, you noticed that she was quieter than usual. 

“So, how is everything going for you?” you asked. “Are you still seeing that guy, the artist?”

She frowned and shook her head. “No way. At least not after he painted my pussy on a 120 x 160 canvas and displayed it for everyone to see.”

“Well, I can tell you something, it was sold” you comforted her. “By the way, I thought you knew which part of you he was painting.”

Olivia groaned and hid her face in her arms. 

“He never told me, said it was a surprise. His favourite part of me, you know” she added, rolling her big eyes. “But let’s talk about something else, what about you? You look sad.”

You shrugged. “It’s nothing, I’m a bit overwhelmed with my final project but…” You stopped talking when you saw a group of people sit a couple of tables away. 

They were teachers, you realised since some of them had taught you in recent years, plus Cillian was among them. He also noticed your presence, you caught him looking at you but he immediately looked away. Olivia looked at you with half closed eyes and then she turned around to look at the teacher’s table. You grabbed her arm to make her stop.

“Don’t do that!”

“Why not?” she asked suspiciously while you tried to hide the fact that you were starting to blush. 

“That’s my final project tutor” you whispered. “Don’t look!”

Olivia made a face of annoyance at you. “If I can’t look, how am I supposed to know which one is your tutor? I’ll just take a little look, they won’t notice, I promise Y/N”, she assured. 

You nodded slightly, accepting the fact that they would notice anyway. “Okay. It’s the guy with blue eyes.”

After a failed, as expected, attempt to be subtle, Olivia focused again on you leaning on the table so that nobody else but you could hear her. “He’s handsome but he looks like he’s sucking on a lemon.”

You couldn't help but burst out laughing, narrowly avoiding choking on your soda. 

“Olivia!”

She giggled with you, satisfied with herself. 

“At least I made you smile.” 

The rest of the meal was uneventful, just you and Olivia catching up. It had been a long time since you had such a good time with your friend like this but sadly, it had to end. Otherwise, you wouldn’t get on time to work. Olivia led the way to the door, taking the opportunity to look closely at Cillian as she passed their table. You followed her, nodding in his direction as you walked past him. 

“Y/N”

You turned around slowly. Cillian was about to get up from the table, some of the teachers looked at you with curiosity and others with recognition. You smiled at them politely. 

“What is it, Mr. Murphy?”

“I need to talk to you”, he said. You wanted to slap him in the face, right on his stupidly perfect cheekbones. You felt your blood boiling with his audacity after ignoring you for a whole week 

“I’m sure it can wait until Monday, or you can send me an email. It’s very simple but I guess it’s up to you. Goodbye Mr. Murphy, have a nice weekend everyone.”

Later, you were sitting at the art gallery office with your final project opened on your laptop. On calm days like that, you used to take the opportunity and study. Maureen and Laura didn’t care about it. 

A knock on the door made you take your eyes away from the laptop screen. There was Maureen, with her blonde hair tied up in a messy bun while holding a plastic bag. 

“Good afternoon, Y/N. How are you?” 

“I’m fine, everything is quiet here. I was trying to write some more of my research but I think I’ll give up for today. What about you?”

She took a seat next to you and started searching for something in the bag while talking. 

“Don't get saturated, sometimes it is better to let a few days pass and return to the project with more energy and inspiration.”

You nodded in agreement. Then, Maureen took out a small photo album and started flipping through all the pages. 

“We want to make a video for the wedding with photos of us from when we were children and teenagers, you know, until we met. So yesterday I spent all day going through photo albums and came across this, I thought you might like to see it.”

She held a polaroid in front of you. Carefully, you took it and examined it in detail. In a handwriting that you recognised as Maureen’s, it said Summer ‘99. It wasn’t difficult to tell who they were since they looked the same, but younger.

“It’s you and Cillian” you stated. 

“We took that picture the summer after we graduated from university, we were about your age there.”

“So, you and him know each other really well or just as former classmates?” you wondered, still looking at the polaroid. She sighed. 

“We are very close, even though he likes to disappear from time to time.” She took out another picture and gave it to you, putting the other one back in the album. “You can keep that one, since you see Cill more than I do, you should have a chance to give it to him. It could bring back good memories, right?” 

You stared at the polaroid and nodded absentminded. From the corner of your eyes you saw Maureen get up after hearing Laura call her from the gallery, she gave you a little squeeze in the shoulder before disappearing. 

In the photograph was a young Cillian smiling from ear to ear, with messy hair and a sunburnt face, which surely would explain the amount of freckles he had now. Also, the way his eyes crinkled slightly at the corners was still the same, although more accentuated with the years. 

Despite all that had happened, you couldn’t help but feel a certain nostalgia. 

A sound coming from your laptop made you look, there was a new message from Cillian. He wanted to meet you in his office on Monday afternoon. Your answer was concise, just to let him know that you would be there.

Only then you were aware of the knot that had formed in your stomach. You were hoping for things to develop smoothly and go back to normal, as they were before that week. But just like it happened with your roommate Brad, deep inside you had the suspicion that what Cillian had to say wasn't good news.

[alfredojesta]

circus squad highschool au has also been running rampant in my mind for some time...

vine, freshman and sent to public school by his foster parents, is anxious and scared of basically everyone. he skips most days and barely gets his schoolwork done.

papa grande, who's the english teacher and owns his own bookstore, notices vine's anxiety. they grow a bond with grande becoming vine's favourite teacher. vine starts eating lunch in grande's classroom instead of the bathroom stall where he used to go.

later on in the year, grande introduces vine to a few of his other students — nathan, candy pop, jason and jonathan. why? because papa grande trusts them. they're all hardworking seniors. they all get along pretty nicely, seeing as they all share a love for art. the six of them eat lunch together in papa grande's classroom (even when grande is absent.)

grande teaches them how to do magic tricks. he also, being an english teacher, turned the lunchtime meetings into somewhat of a book club. he gives them novels to read and requests they write short paragraphs about the book. because they're nerds with no life, they willingly do grande's assignment. candy pop has turned it into sort of a competition: first person to complete their paragraph gets a point (for what? no one's sure.)

vine grows more comfortable coming to school when he realises he's not all that alone in his troubles. the others help him with his assignments and give him life advice — or at least nathan, grande and jon do. candy pop isn't to be listened to ("juggle thy cares away!") and jason's only advice is "get a drink of water."

jason himself wasn't able to make more friends until amelia unfriended him (their friendship was extremely toxic. amelia couldn't even tell jason that she had other friends without jason trying to convince her they're all fake.)

in addition, jason was bullied for:

wearing a tophat to school

being british

having red hair

wanting to be a toymaker

not having any friends

looking feminine

and basically just being autistic

his first true friends were nathan and candy pop, who he was forced to work with for a group project. in all honesty, jason didn't want to talk to either of them. he was still not over the loss of amelia. nathan didn't want to talk to jason either. however, candy pop's friendliness meant they were gonna have to talk eventually. and surprisingly, the three of them grew close.

i'm thinking of a cute scene where they have a sleepover at nathan's house. and because jason isn't allowed to have sweets often (his parents are really fucking strict on him), he's rather shocked when they get to bake cookies together. candy pop's cookies are the fucking best so they have a good time.

jason's father is a "toughen up, you are a man" type of guy, which is why jason does his under eyeliner during homeroom and wipes it off before he goes home. but at the sleepover, nathan does jason's makeup for him — and jason is Amazed. Shocked. Speechless. he stares at his reflection for minutes. nathan gives jason some stuff to take home so he can do more makeup on himself in secret.

he likes the feeling of it — it's not because he's a crossdresser but because it helps jason to express himself more. same with nathan (who is goth) and candy pop (who loves jesters!!!)

they're best friends who get into a bunch of shit together but all come from the same line of wanting to discover themselves and grow as people together. oh and — nathan pierces jason and candy pop's ears. jason obviously takes them out before he gets home or else he'll get the world's longest lecture. candy pop, on the otherhand, lives with (humanised) night terrors who couldn't give less of a shit about what candy pop does as long as he's alive.

[thousand-winters]

Ask game 🛼🍄🍬🥐🧩!

Hello, friend!!! I hope life has been treating you kindly lately 💖

🛼 ⇢ Describe your latest wip with five emojis

Going to use literally the last document I opened for this but: 😟🏃🏰🛌😢

🍄 ⇢ Share a headcanon for one of your favourite ships or pairings

I have a little hc that during the period of time between Path of Radiance and Radiant Dawn, while Ike was kinda getting used to being the leader of the Greil mercenaries in peace times, sometimes he would get too stressed and irritable, so Soren would do something about it.

The "something" in question being going to him like "Ike, I have something very important to report" and while Ike's kinda only half paying attention, immersed as he is in his own head, Soren will just say a shitty joke in a deadpan. "Why did the chicken cross the road?" sort of dumb joke.

He doesn't even think they're funny, but they make Ike snort in disbelief and, since he knows Soren isn't the type to randomly crack jokes all of a sudden, he can tell what he's doing. Those times always end on a smile and a "thank you, Soren".

🍬 ⇢ Post an unpopular opinion about a popular fandom character

I didn't really think this was an unpopular opinion but I see it somewhat often around, the idea that Hunter killed people during his time as Golden Guard and I really don't agree with it. I feel like if Belos had made him do that, Hunter would have cracked so much earlier because his compassionate nature would be at odds with the act itself, even if he had been told they were bad people. He couldn't even get himself to catch Luz in Hunting Palismen, so I think he would have let a shit ton of people go and Belos wouldn't have taken that kindly.

At most, I can see him unfortunately being involved in someone getting killed in the same way he was with the palismen he handed Belos; aka, him possibly capturing people and those people ending up dead or petrified. But I really, really don't think he ever killed someone himself, and in the case of capturing wild witches and such, I feel like that would have to be a very special occasion too (I feel like lowkey Belos probably always had a certain wariness that his grimwalkers would run off with a wild witch or such, especially if Caleb wasn't the only one who did through his messed up story of brotherly murder and clonation)

🥐 ⇢ Name one internet reference that will always make you laugh 

Oh, my god, there was this meme in Spanish (very unsure if it also exists in English because it's from those monkey puppets that are memes but I never watched the source material of that properly so no idea) that went like: student character goes to present their teacher with a medical justification for missing class while saying something like "I got sick but I'm better now", teacher goes "it says here you got hit by a car and died" and then the student says "wow, science really advances, right?"

I don't think it has the same punch with me saying like this as seeing the thing but for some reason it cracked me up so much when I saw it. Now sometimes if someone asked what happened to me for whatever reason, half the time I go "I got hit by a car and died" and then laugh, which is probably not the best thing to say without context lmao 😭 I don't do it unless it's in a silly kind of context tho, don't worry.

My sister also sometimes will explain things by going "science really advances" and I die every fucking time too.

🧩 ⇢ What will make you click away from a fanfiction immediately?

1st person POVs, I'm so sorry, I just can't do it 😔 It causes such a visceral reaction of second hand embarrassment in me even if there's no actual embarrassing content in the description. I just cannot do it, it's even worse for me than paragraphs with no space between them or such, depending on the day I can power through those but the 1st person? Nope.

Thank you for the questions!!! From this ask game

[halloweenism]

okay fun little storytime!

so my 5th grade year was a very interesting year. my teacher was strongly obsessed with three historical events her entire life. the jamestown settlement, the salem witch trials and the holocaust. it's safe to say, that's most of what we learned in our english, writing and social studies lessons.

now, for the sake of this story, we're only focused on one of these. for this lesson unit, we learned solely about the jamestown settlement in extreme detail. now, one of our assignments was to write an essay on the history of the jamestown settlement or something along those lines. the objective of this was for us to develop our writing skills and how to effectively write a compelling hook and introduction paragraph.

now, this was a classroom of 10-11 year olds. so naturally. we thought ourselves to be very, very funny. we all had some very funny/interesting hooks, at least for our age and skill levels. however, there was one that stood out.

this one kid, i'll call X. he was one of the funniest kids i've ever known. he was also somewhat of the class clown. he was also a gifted student, like me. he was very good at writing hooks. this was a constant. so naturally, of course he would have a good hook for this assignment too, right?

we had to present and read out the intro paragraphs to our essays in front of the class. so, finally we got to X's. and we were all very curious to know what hook he came up with this time. and we were not expecting what he had. this was what he wrote for his hook, word for word:

"Plop. Plop. That's the sound of dead people falling to the ground."

from that day on, it became one of the biggest inside jokes of our class, and one of my favourite memories from elementary school.

[lonita]

Face off

When I think of hockey, I am reminded of two things: a cartoon called The Sweater (a National Film Board of Canada standard favourite, in which a young boy - a Habs fan - is given a Maple Leafs jersey by his mother), and grade eight English classes. I wasn't much of a student in grade school, but ultimately I won the English award when I graduated from grade eight. It was a mystery to me why I received the award, and if I'd been more on the ball at the time I might have asked about it. As it was, I later came to think it was because of something I'd done totally by accident - sort of. Our text for language arts - for it wasn't called English class anymore - was just that, a book entitled something like Spelling and Language Arts. Each section of the book had a word or phrase list at the end of it, from which we were to choose one, and write a short paragraph using that word or phrase. The end of the week came, and I looked over the word list for the chapter, and immediately lit upon the expression "face-off". I went home, dutifully wrote up my clever little piece, and brought it back to class Monday morning as we were all supposed to. Part of the classroom ritual was for the teacher to pick volunteers to read what they'd written aloud. Now, this was something I'd never volunteered for previously, because I was a very shy little being back then. This time, I bravely raised my hand, was chosen, and as I began to read I found myself facing a classroom full of giggling 12 and 13-year-old. Was I embarrassed? You bet. I turned a shade of red only slightly less bright than oxygenated blood. I had no idea why they were laughing, or even at what. I knew my writing hadn't been that bad. I wasn't a very confident person, but I still knew. After I'd squeakily finished reading aloud, for all the clever cheer I'd earlier felt had oozed out the bottom of my feet by this time, the teacher explained to me what I'd done . . . wrong. Wrong, though, is a matter of interpretation, as you'll soon see. In fact, interpretation was precisely what had set the classroom into a fit of giggles. When I saw the expression "face-off" in my text, I didn't think of hockey. In fact, hockey never entered my mind until I'd finished reading my piece aloud. I'd taken the phrase literally; so my piece was a very detailed account of how a person could remove their face. I do believe it included something about unscrewing the ears, as well. I think they must have given me extra points for my unintentional ingenuity, and maybe a bit more credit than I deserved. However, I wish I still had that piece. I'd love to see, now, what I'd written then. I do still have the award, and every once in a while I take it out and actually hang it up, right next to a placemat depicting the schooner Bluenose II.

[talayse]

Okay, I've been thinking about this all morning, so I'm just going to type it up and send it out into the Tumblrvoid and be done with it.

Last night I came across and post about how high school teachers really didn't seem to teach their students what plagiarism is aside from straight up copying verbatim someone else's work, with a reblog under it about how high school teacher's don't seem to be teaching kids how to write. (I'm going to try to find that post, I don't remember who's blog it was on, but I will put a link in this post and reblog this underneath if I find it.)

And, yes, to both.

Now, I graduated high school 20 years ago, so this experience is technically outdated, but in someways I think it may have only gotten worse. For context I attended a high school with a high student population in a rural US mid-Atlantic state. (We were also the school neighboring towns sent their high school students to because they didn't have enough kids to have their own school.)

I often deplore the quality of the education I received, and I had my share of good teachers and truly awful teachers through my years of K-12 in the US public education system, but I have to say the worst teachers were the high school teachers. I don't know if they were all simply burnt out, going through the motions, or truly thought they were doing a good job. I had an honors biology teacher that once handed us a list of the bones in the human body at the end of a class, told us to memorize it for a quiz the next day. We never talked about bones before that or after. There was no context, no discussion about the difference in endoskeleton or exoskeleton (didn't even cover that). Nothing. I think we all failed that test. I think the teacher was merely checking "skeleton" off his list so he could get back to trying to gross us out about algae in ice cream, his favourite pastime.

Which brings me to the "teaching students to write" topic.

In high school we pretty much only did two kinds of writing (unless you took creative writing or journalism, which, have some stories there too, but I digress). These were the 5 paragraph essay and the "10" page "research" paper.

The 5 paragraph essay was what was assigned most often and required absolutely NO research, and I believe was largely the provenance of English teachers. And this was what we received the most guidance on. The 5 paragraph essay, for those unfamiliar, is written as such:

Paragraph 1: Tell me what you are going to tell me. Paragraph 2-4: Tell me. Paragraph 5: Tell me what you told me

Teachers always assigned a topic for this, and it was generally something along the lines of "A proposed new law would require all cars to be painted yellow. Argue for or against." That was it. I can do those in my sleep. There was clear structure, and a topic and instructions.

The "10" page "research" paper on the other hand, I was always stymied by. In 4 years of high school, I only had to do 2 of them thankfully (as opposed to dozens and dozens of 5 paragraph essays). (Thinking back on it, I think history teachers assigned them, and I only had history three times and the last year I took an A level class not Honors. Maybe A levels didn't even do them (which if so, that's a large population of students not even being taught bad skills,) I know I was just about the only student that passed that A level class.) The "10" page "research" paper was something that the teacher always made sound like a big deal we should be scared of, but they were doing in order to help us in college. I was mostly perplexed by them. The guidelines the teacher gave us were thus:

-Pick a topic. -Come up with a hypothesis about that topic and PROVE it. -Format the paper correctly. This was explained in detail. There must be a cover page, it must by typed, ten pages, double spaced in Times New Roman only, twelve point font. You must cite three references at least*, and have a bibliography formatted as so (example provided).

The teacher would then arrange for us to have ONE class period in the high school library (which I think last purchased books in 1940.) And that was it. We received more information on formatting than anything else. I should mention there was no time in the school day to access the library without a teacher taking you as a class. The town's library was a short walk up the road, but if you missed the last after school bus home, someone had to pick you up. This was a rural town, no public transportation and most teens did not get their license until 17.

I always struggled with both choosing a topic that I could "prove" a hypothesis for, as I always associated "hypothesis" with asking a question in science, and any good scientist will tell you that proving or disproving is equally valid.

They never had us read a sample paper (or two, one good, one not so good, spot the difference), or gave us an idea of what a good topic and "hypothesis" was. Or how to find that. It was the equivalent of giving you something to assemble but no tools to do it with. And our "research" was entirely reading other people's research and regurgitating it, obviously high school students wouldn't be using primary sources, but I never felt like I was researching, I always felt I was using other people's work.

I was (and still am) very shy. Asking the teacher to be less vague was not an option. I winged two papers, did well enough on them, but I still do not understand what the teachers were looking for. With more life experience, and some vicarious college experience, I have found that even if you DO your own primary research, you still have to reference research people have made before you to justify your conclusions or I suppose, show how they were wrong. In fact a Master's level thesis that I help edit, the professor seemed to want the writer to say, "This is what I found out, this is how it relates to this aspect of the field and this is an established "expert" who found something similar." If it wasn't written that way, with reference to those "experts" it was no good, however, the references were always cited footnotes, something we did not do in high school. The professor did not seem to want the writer to draw their own conclusions (only agree with "experts") which was maddening.

If those high school teachers had said to me, "I want you to write a ten page paper on the Great Wall of China, why it was built, did it work and is it still relevant today?" I probably would have been less frustrated and probably written 20 pages. That's a solid purpose, there's clear guidance outside of the formatting. They really spent about 80% of the instruction time on the formatting which they gave us a reference for! I think I always felt I had to come to some new conclusion, solve a mystery, because otherwise I was just plagiarizing other people's research.

Can you tell I am still really frustrated by this?

TL:DR, no high school teachers are not teaching kids how to research, how to write and how to not to plagiarize beyond "don't copy word for word". They are throwing us in the pool of research without teaching us to swim, and letting us sink or swim.

*Keep in mind this was 1999-2003, IF people had a home computer it was a shared desktop. My first "research" paper was typed on a Brother Word Processor that had very little internal memory (anything you did you did on a floppy disk), a printer that was basically an electric type writer and no double space option. My second was written on a refurbished Macintosh that was third hand and crashed constantly. I still save continuously as I type things because of this. It also had a printer that sometimes worked, but I couldn't bring the paper into school on floppy to be printed as they only had PCs. I think my mom had to call the school and a teacher printed it for me at home.

**All 3 references had to be books, or newspapers, etc. If you used an internet source you had to back it up with hard copy resource. In the early Aughts the internet was considered an unreliable resource. Do mull that over. Ask yourself if that is still true today.

[languageyeti1985]

A Language Yeti's Account Of Teaching English in Poland...

Being a native English teacher in Poland is an adventure. From the moment you set foot in the classroom, you're greeted with curious faces, eager to learn the language you grew up speaking. And while it's true that teaching English can be a rewarding experience, it's not always a walk in the park.

Let's start with homework fails. Oh boy, where do I begin? No matter how clear your instructions are, a student will always miss the point entirely. For example, I once asked my students to write a short paragraph about their favourite food, and one of them wrote an extended essay about his dog. Another time, I asked them to bring a picture of their favourite celebrity, and one of them brought a picture of their grandma. You just never know what you're going to get day to day!

Then there's the issue of motivation. Some students are excited to learn and are eager to participate in class, while others would rather be doing anything else. One time, I was teaching a group of teenagers, and I asked them a question. No one raised their hand, so I called on one of them. He looked up from his phone and said, "Sorry, I wasn't listening. Can you repeat the question?" - it is like he was forced to be there by his pushy parents, who don't understand that video games or social media have taken over him.

And let's remember the lack of communication with bosses. It's not uncommon for English teachers in Poland to feel like they're in the dark about what's expected of them. You send lesson plans, ideas and materials but rarely get feedback - because there is always another lesson, and there needs to be more time to reply to everyone. So you must trust that your classes are effective and hope your students are learning - but most of them come to be entertained.

But despite all the challenges, I love being a native English teacher in Poland. It's a chance to connect with people from all walks of life and help them achieve their goals. And let's face it, it's also a chance to make some hilarious memories.

So, to my fellow English teachers in Poland, keep doing the good work. Embrace the wild journey in the classroom with the homework fails, laugh at the lack of motivation, and don't let the lack of feedback bring you down. And as your friendly Language Yeti would say, "Teach on, my friends. Teach on!"

[amazingphanisnotonfire-imagines]

Maeve//i don't belong, and my beloved, neither do you

Request: Could you please do something else with Maeve? Perhaps something where reader works with Maeve on an English project and she's surprised that they have so much in common. She realizes she has feelings for her somehow after that? Sorry that's sort of rubbish, have a swell day/night.

hey! what’s up everybody! i hope everyone is well, and i hope you like this!! title is from ‘the lakes’ by taylor swift! 

- English projects are never fun 

- I mean, who finds constant stress and a deadline that’s always far too close fun?

- Nobody

- That’s who

- Well apart from Mrs Jones

- Your year 9 English teacher who made every minute of her classes a living hell

- And who mysteriously went missing half way through the year after having a screaming match with a fellow English teacher

- When she was supposed to be teaching you Romeo & Juliet. 

- One day she was accusing Miss Newman of being a terrible teacher and purposefully bumping up students grades so she looked better 

- And the next day both her and Miss Newman were gone 

- And you only got a replacement teacher when you moved into year 10

- Right now though 

- Its seems Miss Sands is going through some stuff 

- Because not only did she give you an assignment on Friday with a deadline of Monday 

- She also chose your partners instead of letting you choose your own

- Which is why you’re stood outside of Maeve’s in the pouring rain

- On a frankly miserable Saturday morning 

- It seems the weather knew exactly what sort of weekend you were facing 

- And decided to make it even worse. 

- By the third knock 

- You’re about to give up 

- The curtains are still drawn 

- And you’ve seen more movement in a graveyard 

- Plus

- You kind of already assumed you would be doing the project alone 

- Maeve Wiley was known for being very...

- ...independant 

- And group projects are no different 

- You actually think she may be more independent during group projects

- So as soon as Miss Sands paired you together 

- You knew 

- You were 99% sure that 

- You’d do your thing

- She’d do hers 

- And then five minutes before the presentation 

- You would figure out a way to connect the two.

- Anywayyyy

- While daydreaming about a time when you won’t have any assignments 

- And making awkward, accidental eye contact with Maeve’s neighbours 

- The door in front of you opens 

- Simultaneously giving you a fright and almost knocking you out

- She yawns and scratches the top of her head 

- ‘what are you doing here?’ 

- She sounds both tired and annoyed and you blink at her a few times before answering 

- ‘er - i - the project. for english.’ 

- It takes her a few seconds to process what you’ve said 

- But when she does 

- She looks even more miserable than she did five seconds ago

- And you brace yourself for a long weekend 

- She sighs and rolls her eyes 

- Before slowly opening the door properly and letting you in

- You feel slightly nervous as you walk in 

- But you really have no idea why

- It’s not like she’s a complete stranger 

- But then again 

- She’s not exactly a friend 

- ‘don’t worry, i’ve hidden the drugs. i don’t really like to share anyway.’ 

- ‘what?’ you ask confused and she rolls her eyes again 

- She huffs and crosses her arms before nodding to the slightly messy living room

- ‘i get it. we’re a bunch of benefit fraud chavs that do nothing but drink and smoke all day.’ 

- ‘that’s not what i was thinkin-’ 

- ‘sure it wasn’t.’ she rolls her eyes and you stare down at the floor. ‘i need to get changed so make yourself at home I suppose.’ 

- She walks into what you assume is her bedroom and slams the door behind her 

- Leaving you to stand awkwardly in the middle of the living room

- It’s small and slightly cramped 

- And most people would say that all the stuff makes it look busy 

- But to you 

- It’s wonderful 

- It’s filled with stories and memories 

- Some self explanatory 

- Some slightly more bizarre 

- Like the wonky blue and yellow clay swan living on the coffee table 

- You really want to know the story behind it 

- But decide it might be a little early in your partnership to start asking about her attachment to a half swan, half moth looking ornament

- So instead you pick up a pile of books on the dining table and move them onto the floor 

- You can hear Maeve opening and closing drawers while humming a familiar tune 

- And you feel yourself relax slightly as you place your laptop and books where the books were previously sat 

- Even if it does feel like you’re using all of your braincells to try and figure out where you’ve heard it before 

- ‘wow, do you actually trust me around that?’ 

- ‘what?’ you stop humming and look up at her 

- She looks between you and the laptop, staring at you expectantly 

- ‘oh no. i mean of course i do.’ you blush and she shakes her head before sitting opposite you 

- ‘so what do we know about women in fiction?’ 

- ‘historically they are written as either a femme fatalle type or some sort of innocent angelic being.’ 

- ‘they still are’ 

- ‘true’ you agree and flick through your textbook

- ‘why don’t we write about that then?’ 

- ‘what? how we’re still depressingly far back in the equality movement, despite being told otherwise?’ 

- She stares at you for a few seconds 

- A mixture of shock and surprise 

- Before nodding 

- And smiling 

- An actual genuine smile 

- You didn’t even know she could do that 

- Well you did 

- Of course you did 

- But you just haven’t seen it a lot 

- Usually when you see Maeve 

- She’s either mad, grumpy or very, very, very angry

- But her smiling 

- Puts a smile on your face 

- And this was definitely not where you thought this was going 

- ‘yeah...that’ 

- ‘okay.’ you shrug. ‘you can do classic literature because i know you prefer them and i’ll cover modern works.’

- ‘how do you know i prefer classics?’ 

- ‘the pile of books’ you nod towards the floor and she follows your gaze, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear. ‘they’re all ripped and folded. you either love them or really, really hate them’ 

- ‘okay’ she eyes you suspiciously as you focus on your laptop 

- And you can feel your cheeks heat up under her gaze 

- However as quickly as they were there 

- They disappear 

- And the two of you fall into a surprisingly comfortable silence. 

- After about half an hour 

- Maeve stops what she’s doing to stretch 

- ‘is it okay if i play some music?’ 

- ‘sure, it’s your place. do what you want...as long as its not awful’ 

- ‘and what constitutes as awful?’ she asks, a smirk playing on her lips

- ‘well’ 

- And with that one question 

- Your entire day disappears in front of you 

- Laptops and books are closed and long forgotten 

- And instead you talk about music and movies 

- Books and plays 

- Characters that you love and hate 

- And the fact that her favourite character is the one you hate the most 

- She makes you lunch while you debate between movies and books and which adaptations are good

- And which ones should never have been made

- And you clean up and apologise profusely after a stray cushion (possibly thrown by you) ends up knocking the pan over 

- Surprisingly 

- She finds it quite funny 

- And you let out a relieved sigh

- Soon the sun goes down on another day 

- And you’ve barely written two paragraphs done between you

- ‘do you want to stay?’ she asks while your putting your jacket on

- If she’d asked you that this morning 

- You would have thought she had lost it 

- But now it feels almost inevitable 

- And you feel genuinely lucky to be asked 

- Not many people get to know Maeve 

- The real her 

- And that last person she told all of this to broke her heart 

- Very publicly 

- And she told herself she would never let herself be that vulnerable with someone ever again

- But this just feels right 

- For some reason you feel right 

- She feels safe with you 

- And part of her hates herself for it 

- But then again 

- She hates herself for not getting to know you sooner

- She feels far too attached to you 

- And it’s barely been twelve hours 

- You of course agree to stay 

- Shocking yourself and her 

- And while she sorts to sofa out 

- You excuse yourself to the bathroom 

- Under the pretences of telling your parents where you are 

- It takes two seconds to text them 

- And the other 28 to ask yourself 

- What the fuck are you doing? 

- Why are you agreeing to this? 

- Why do you feel like this? 

- What are you feeling?

- Who knows?

- Not you 

- Great 

- Now you’ve been in the bathroom for a suspicious amount of time 

- Just get it together, Y/n

- It’s just a study sleepover 

- Maeve gives you a questioning look as you leave 

- ‘you know how mums are. always worrying about where you are and what you’re doing’ 

- ‘i wouldn’t actually’ she shrugs and your eyes widen 

- ‘oh shit, sorry. i’m so sorry. god, i’m an idiot.’

- ‘it’s fine’ she forces a laugh and you wince. ‘i got you an extra duvet and little women is ready to watch so i can show you that the book is better’ 

- ‘that’s not what i said and you know it’ 

- ‘i’m sorry. i can’t hear you over the sound of me being 100% right and you being 100% wrong.’ 

- ‘you may be good at english, but you suck at maths’ 

- The next day you wake up to the sun shining through the curtains 

- And a clump of Maeve’s hair in your mouth 

- You splutter and cough and wake her up quickly 

- And she jumps away from you and smacks her head of the table 

- The two of you ended up moving the blankets to the floor while watching Pride and Prejudice 

- And neither of you bothered to move back 

- Maeve yawns and scratches her head

- Exposing a small part of her stomach and you feel yourself become a little breathless 

- ‘are you okay?’ 

- ‘ye-yeah’ you nod and she eyes you suspiciously 

- ‘whatever’ she shrugs and starts making breakfast 

- You watch as she pours to bowls of cereal

- Giving you the last of the milk 

- And for a second you’re a little worried as to how she knew you liked it 

- But then you remember that she also likes it and you had a whole discussion about the best and worst types of cereal at 2am 

- And half way through breakfast 

- You remember the original reason you’re here 

- And both of you curse loudly 

- Before rushing to finish eating 

-You get half way through your project 

- When Maeve asks if you want to go out for a bit 

- And well 

- She doesn’t need to ask you twice 

- And by the time you come back 

- The feeling you had last night returns 

- And has settled in your stomach 

- For the foreseeable future it seems 

- It makes you feel both light and heavy at the same time 

- And when you look at her 

- You feel dizzy 

- So you rush to finish the project 

- So you can go home and pretend nothing has changed 

- And yeah 

- With the need to leave 

- You get the rest of the assignment done fairly quickly 

- But you end up leaving feeling more confused about Maeve as you did when you started this 

- Maybe Miss Sands was right about a weekend project 

- Any longer and you would have gone insane trying to figure out whatever the hell this is 

- You just have to get through tomorrow and then you’ll be okay 

- Everything will go back to normal 

- You and Maeve can go back to being neutral to each other

- And you won’t have to deal with all of these confusing feelings that have decided to make an appearance for some reason 

- Wellll

- Turns out Miss Sands was wrong 

- A weekend is not enough time 

- And the first few presentations are awful 

- To put it nicely 

- So you spend the next week in a permanent confused state 

- Confused as to why you start looking for Maeve whenever you enter a room

- Confused as to why your heart skips a beat whenever you hear her laugh 

- Confused as to why you never want her stop talking in class 

- Even if the bell has rung and it’s lunch 

- Confused to why you keep looking for excuses to go over to see her 

- Despite your assignment being long done 

- And even more confused as to why you feel anxious when you’re waiting for her to answer the door

- The next Monday rolls around both painfully slowly and far too quickly 

- And while you wait for Ola and Danny to finish their presentation 

- Your hands shake with anxiety while your grip your papers 

- Maeve reaches over the table and gives them a reassuring squeeze 

- But it just makes them shake more and she slowly pulls back 

- Your turn can’t come quick enough 

- But then it’s over far too quickly 

- And you slump back down in your seat disappointed 

- Despite Miss Sands’ praise 

- Because it’s over 

- You no longer have an excuse to hang out with her 

- You never talked before 

- So why do you care about after 

- But there’s so much about her that you want to know

- Like the weird swan/moth hybrid 

- And the ugly plate that sits on top of the bookshelf 

- You want to be part of these stories 

- You want to be able to point to these things and say

- ‘yeah, i know exactly why that is special to you’ 

- You want to be the reason to add to this random collection of stuff 

- You want her to smile when she looks at them because they’ll remind her of you 

- You want her to smile when she looks at you 

- ‘y/n? are you okay?’ she asks making you jump 

- The classroom is now empty and you didn’t even notice the bell go 

- ‘ye-yeah’ you nod and grab your bag

- ‘are you sure?’ she grabs your arm forcing you turn around 

- ‘whats the weird swan thing on your coffee table?’ you ask and she furrows her eyebrows at you. ‘it’s just i saw it when i first came over and i really want to know the story behind it’ 

- ‘oh. aimee went through a pottery phase last year and that was the only thing she made that didn’t have a hole in it.’

- ‘and the plate?’ 

- ‘birthday present from my neighbours’ 

- ‘they got you a plate?’ 

- ‘yeah, they don’t have any kids’ 

- ‘clearly’ 

- Silence fills the room and you stare at the peeling posters behind her head 

- You can feel Maeve move closer to you and your breath hitches when she stops a few centimetres in front of you 

- She grabs your hand and squeezes it again 

- And your heartbeat increases 

- ‘y/n?’ 

- ‘yeah?’ 

- ‘i’m really, really confused right now. like more confused that i have ever been in my life. but what i do know, is that if i watch you walk out of that door without saying anything first, then i’d regret it for the rest of my life. i’ve only ever felt like this about boys before, but now i feel this and more about you and i have no idea where it’s come from or what i need to do, but i do know i need to tell you. because otherwise, it wouldn’t be fair for either of us’ she whispers and you stare at her wide eyed 

- ‘can i kiss you?’ she asks and you nod your head quickly 

- Slowly she leans in

- Her eye flutter closed and you follow 

- Your lips brush over hers 

- Her hands wrap around you waist to pull you close

- And then your lips connect 

- And you feel everything change 

- She kisses you slowly 

- And when you pull away you both feel breathless 

- Her cheeks are bright red 

- And there’s a shy smile playing on her lips as she looks at you bashfully

- And all of a sudden you feel really grateful for Miss Sands and her personal issues 

- Although you really hope they are resolved now 

- For your sake as well as hers

support my writing! if you want! 

[wisteria-lodge]

authoritarian badger primary + snake secondary

Sorry if this is the improper channels, I just created my first ever tumblr account to follow you haha I would love help with sorting, you’re quite astute and it would be such a service to me as I’ve struggled for years with it, despite (or perhaps because of) reading so many posts about it! I’m much better at speed-reading randos, than I am at categorizing myself.  

I was that classic gifted underachiever.

ugh, I hate the word “gifted.” I’m so pleased that it’s falling out of favor in education circles.

I felt bad for some of my teachers, because I knew they probably blamed themselves. To make them see I appreciated them, I would study their teaching methods, and then give them positive feedback. I was the kid who would sleep through English, then write a collection of stories about the teachers, infusing classical literature and mythological references, performed them in the cafeteria, and sold them for lots of money to the students.

You sound like you were probably bored. Look, don’t feel bad about your teachers. Some students are just Anakins. High ability, low emotional maturity. We know that all we can do is give you guys a safe space until you figure yourselves out.

I wrote about my incompetent Math Teacher, Mrs. Malatestinic, as the Malatesting-Sphinx, an awful creature that posed mathematical riddles she herself did not understand. She didn’t like that (I failed math by 1 percent that semester lol), but when the math department heard me reading, he gasped sharply, his face went bright red and he started shaking in a way that looked life stifled laughter.

… this is your second, like, vengeance narrative? (slept though english class > made $$$ selling writing) (wrote hit piece about teacher > department head secretly agrees with you.) And you haven’t said anything that has anything to do with the Sortinghat Chats System???

I have almost no practical skills of my own (I find it hard to even change my lightbulbs, so I sometimes pee in the dark)

You must have some very understanding roommates.

but I pride myself on my interpersonal pixie dust. I seem to cheer people up, and I like to think I have a keen eye for people. One of my favourite compliments was when a young woman told me I had an almost supernatural ability for making others feel seen.

Okay, so a very social secondary, I can work with that. Going with *not Badger* as a hypothesis, since you almost seem to get kind of a kick out of not being exactly useful.

I naturally bond groups around me wherever I go, and I notice without this sort of found family dynamic in my life (a little team/group/family) I get depressed. I have fused my entire being with my job and have become a sort of mascot/face of the business, and despite not actually being the highest ranked/most senior employee.

… and we have a Badger primary.

I wish I was gentler, but my love for my people is pesky and meddlesome and I worry some day people will tire of me. I get overly involved in people’s lives (even when they ask me not to get involved, I take that as code for “I wouldn’t want to bother you, but secretly I wish you would get involved”).

I’m everyone’s unofficial therapist. This big mouth gets me into trouble sometimes, especially when I attack the powers that be on behalf of the underdog (something I can never resist)

Oh ouch. Yeah, that is some exploded, Authoritarian Badger right there. You get involved in peoples lives when they tell you to stay out? You view yourself as a universal therapist and righteous defender of those who cannot defend themselves? You write like you’ve got all the answers, and everyone else in your life is scared, or helpless.

I once flooded a grouchy old lady’s apartment by accident (ADHD) and then when she called to scream at me, she ended up telling me her whole life story instead.

I know this is the Badger secondary in me, but did you like… help fix the apartment? Untreated water damage can lead to black mold.

And yet, I cannot keep a secret to save my life, people should not be telling me things! My mom and boss often warn me about burning bridges. I know this is true in theory, but sometimes I just get triggered.

Impulsivity is something that people with ADHD can struggle with, but I can’t link it to a specific secondary.

I was bullied and abused a lot as a child/teen, but I never believed I deserved it, only that I lacked power, so I had to dig deep and outwit my opponents. I find story arcs of clever but physically underpowered oddballs like Mulan and Tyrion very satisfying for that reason! I tend to be a bit of a con for the cause at times—I toy with people and can be a bit of a “storyteller”. My saintly double badger mom strongly disapproves of this tendency in me, and half teasing, half scolding calls me Harold Hill (The Music Man).

Snake secondary, for sure. 

I have an awful petty flaw of never forgetting a slight! When the people I love/invest in betray me, I am devastated, and that disillusionment can fester into hatred under extreme circumstances. Darker still, when people cross a certain line morally, they seem to forfeit their personhood in my eyes. Gloves are off, and since I’m kind of an empath I basically have all the destruct codes to people’s souls.

That is… the dehumanizing aspect of a Badger primary in full swing, which has been a through line this whole time. The math teacher was incompetent, so it was fine to mess with her. The old lady was grouchy, so flooding her apartment wasn’t a big deal.

Some examples of my dark fuckery (if tldr, skip to final paragraph 😊):

I will cut this out, actually. There are a *lot* of revenge narratives here, some of them get pretty dark, and in my opinion… these are situations where you either went too far or shouldn’t have gotten involved in the first place. I guess they re-affirm the ‘I know best’ of the Authoritarian Badger, and the improvisational problem solving skills of the Snake secondary.

Um yes, so sorry about how long this is, every time I went to edit it down, it got longer! I understand if you don’t have the time or inclination to read, let alone analyze all this! But at least it helped me a little to write it all out. Please know I love your posts, you’re brilliant! I will lose entire days  studying and obsessing over your posts. Thank you for everything!

You’re welcome. And don’t take any of this too badly. Badger primaries get Authoritarian streaks sometimes, it happens. And if you’re worried that “people will tire of you” - I will say, as someone who has known quite a few Authoritarian Badgers. I didn’t get tired of them, I got exhausted, felt condescended to, and it was an all around unpleasant experience. 

[saviorinsilk]

Again

Ship: Wilhemina Venable x Fem!Reader

Description: Wilhemina Venable is your College English Professor and on a particular night you learn your lesson for speaking out in class. This is an AU!

Words: 1869

Warnings: Punishment, professor x student, strap on sex, spanking, domination and discipline.

A/N: You guys wanted more of Venable spanking reader so here you sluts go!

Tears clouded your vision of the textbook that was laying open on the desk in front of you. Your body jerked forward when yet another harsh slap rang loudly through the Victorian styled office. Ms. Venable had delivered another brutal hit on your already red, welt covered ass. You didn't make any noise, you wouldn't dare. Your professor had taught you better than that. But oh how you wished you could vocally express yourself.

"Again Miss Y/L/N." Ms. Venable spoke from behind you, her bruising grip loosening up so she could ghost her hand up your lower back and back down. She caressed the sensitive skin of your burning red ass in slow circles as she pushed your dress that was already hiked up, even higher and out of her way.

You supported yourself on one of your shaky elbows as you wiped your eyes with your free hand, the words on the page in front of you now clearer.

"First Person; In the subjective case, the singular form of the first person is "I," and the plural form is "we." "I" and "we" are in the subjective case because either one can be used as the subject of a sentence." Your voice was small, the half-hour of canning you had already endured because of your slip up in Ms. Venable's English lecture, having already caused you to sink deep into your submissive headspace. You braced yourself for the impending attack, making it easier to hold back the whimper that dared to escape.

Ms. Venable's delicate but deadly cane collided with your ass for what felt like the hundredth time, your weak legs beginning to shake as your full ass bounced with the force of the hit.

You took that as your cue to continue and once again began reading over the next paragraph on the page she had been making you repeat, this time your voice shaking as she hit you once, twice and three times.

"Second Person; You use the second-person point of view to address the reader, as I just did. T-The second person uses the pronouns "you," "your," and "yours." We use these t-three pronouns when addressing one, or more than one, person." Your voice was beginning to falter and you wished you had just kept your mouth shut and hadn't made that stupid snippy remark in class.

"Actually Ms. V, wouldn't you want to use first person?" You regretted opening your mouth the moment the classroom fell silent. You knew you had fucked up and everyone else did as well, giving you sympathetic looks as Ms. Venable slowly made her way over to your seat, her cane clicking loudly against the tile floor as she did. She didn't stop until she was standing directly in front of your desk at the front of the class, her piercing dark gaze locked on you. You couldn't bring yourself to meet her eyes as she spoke.

"If you are going to try and correct me Miss Y/L/N, at least do it right."

She snapped back, the class straining not to erupt in laughter, fearing her wrath. A hand shot up at the other side of the room but Ms. Venable took a moment before she nodded at the girl.

"I believe the correct answer is actually second person Ms.Venable." Stupid Casey. You hated Casey. She was such a kiss ass. Always offering to help Ms. Venable after class, purposely being the last one (other than you of course) to leave the class so she could steal a few extra moments with your professor. You hated how jealous the blonde, skinny College girl made you; but you couldn't help it. Even the knowledge that Casey thought of Ms. Venable in that way made your blood boil. And Ms Venable knew it too.

"Very right Casey. Glad to know some of you are paying attention. As for you Miss Y/L/N, we will discuss your behaviour after class."

There had been nothing you had been able to do but clench you're fists and get through the rest of class.

"You will be in my office by 11:30pm sharp." Was all she said before directing her attention back to her computer.

She didn't need to ask. Only You and Ms. Venable knew the truth. That this was exactly what you had wanted. When you didn't move she glared at you, making you blush and quickly pick up your books and throw your bag over your shoulder. Your plan was progressing perfectly and her furious gaze only made you squeeze your thighs together harder, biting your lip the way you knew drove your secret lover crazy.

Her office was connected to the small apartment she lived in on campus. It was a 5-minute walk from your dorm, one you had gotten quite accustomed too.

You still remember the first night you spent in her office. Ms. Venable had offered to tutor you through the writing project she had assigned. She had sat across her desk from you and for the first time you had witnessed her smile, telling you that your outline looked perfect. It was something that didn't often happen from the tough grader. That had been the first night. A tutoring session gone sexual.

Today had been no different, except you knew what was awaiting you and it wasn't praise. She barely had spoken to you before she had bent you over her desk, slamming the textbook down in front of you and making you go to page 62, paragraph 23, demanding you begin reading.

Ms. Venable had seemed to have found a tad of mercy in her cold heart, as she lowered her cane, instead gently tracing the welts and light bruises that had already begun to form from the assault from her cane.

You took the chance to catch your breath, squeezing your eyes shut, demanding that the salty tears that dared to spill down onto the pages below to stay put.

That's when you heard it, the light sound of her skirt dropping, the delicate lavender fabric pooling at her feet before the woman stepped out of it and slid it out of her way. The sound elicited both excitement and fear in you. It made your stomach twist and the warmth that had built up in your core was becoming painful.

That's when you felt it, smooth and rock hard against your ass. She had been wearing her strap the whole evening and by weight of it, you knew it was your favourite one.

Ms. Venable leaned down over you, the dominance she radiated causing you to press your thighs together, desperate to quench the painful arousal that the dark woman had caused. Her strap pressed again your wet cunt as she snatched your long hair that was already pulled up in a ponytail (convenient for her) in her fist. You couldn't help the high pitched squeak that slipped past your lips as she yanked your head back. You could feel Ms. Venable's hot breath against the shell of your ear as she used her foot to kick your legs wider apart; granting her access to the part of you that only belonged to her.

"You enjoy being a brat? Embarrassing me in front of all my students?" She sarcastically asked, slapping your cunt roughly with her impossibly large cock. You bit your lip to keep your moans locked inside, drawing blood as Ms. Venable delivered a few more slaps to your aching cunt. You shook your head frantically, crying out as you opened your mouth to answer her.

"No Ms! I'm a bad girl! I'm sorry!" You whimper as she pulled your earlobe into her mouth.

She hit you with her hand harder than you were expecting and simultaneously slide her large, thick cock into you. The impossible stretch you felt as Ms. Venable buried herself completely inside of your dripping, warm and throbbing cunt, made you moan deeply, fresh tears pricking your eyes. You arched your back painfully and dropped your head to the wooden desk, smashing against it loud enough to cause Ms.Venable's predatory expression to falter for a split second. The concern faded quickly though when she felt you began to grind your hips back, desperate for your professor to give you what you needed.

She moaned in pleasure as she watched your tight hole stretch perfectly around her cock, like you were made for it. Made to serve her.

Ms. Venable's hand came down on your right ass cheek and then the left, her dark eyes blown black with lust. She could tell you were close, noticing the way your whimpers became more desperate, the textbook falling flat on the desk, your head resting on top it.

"Ah, ah, ah don't be a greedy little slut. You better not cum until you're finished." Ms. Venable warned you in a calm tone as she stayed still inside of you, as torturous as it was for her, the stimulation of the base of the strap had begun to make her clit throb but she knew you wouldn't last if she didn't.

Ms. Venable may have been a cruel Mistress and a strict teacher but she knew how sensitive you were after a spanking. How the pain lit your body up like a live wire. Plus, after how good you had been for her, she truly didn't want to have to punish you for cumming without permission.

"Third Person; The third person is the most common point of view used in fiction writing and is the traditional form for academic writing. Authors of novels and composers of papers use "he," "she," or "it" when referring to a person, place, thing, or idea." You practically screamed the last sentence, bucking your hips back roughly, trying to get Ms. Venable as deep inside of you as you possibly could. You were sweating, crying and shaking like a pathetic mess, exactly how Professor Venable liked you.

"PLEASE! Fucking hell! Please, Ms. Venable! I won't forget again!" You sobbed, becoming frantic for something, anything that would soothe the burning and twisting sensation in your lower abdomens

Ms. Venable chuckled to herself, proud of the effect she had on you. If she were honest, she was glad you had finished up as she couldn't stand the intensely of her own arousal another second longer.

"Good girl. Such a smart slut. Now cum for me" You barely had time to register her words before Ms. Venable began thrusting into your roughly, a sure-fire way to have you cumming around her cock.

When your orgasm does snap in your belly Ms.Venable pulled you up, your back crashing into her chest. Your body went ridge, fire washing over you and Ms. Venable held onto you tightly, supporting your weight as she fucked you through your orgasm. "Thank y-you Miss!" You barely got the words out as your body shook with the aftershock of your orgasm.

Ms.Venable smirked wickedly as she shoved you back down on your elbows, cock pulled from your cunt with a sharp spank on your ass cheek. When she finally spoke again, you froze, hearing the three words you dreaded the most.

"Again Miss Y/L/N."

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[rawlinacademia]

ASL 30/09/2021

So, I gave my ASL yesterday... Which is kind of like a speaking assessment which I think is about a total of 10 marks of grade and I did a pretty basic one because..after all, it is a speaking assessment test, not a 'who's got the most sophisticated pretentious looking crap speech'. Also, I was time-bound like 2 minutes or so ..so here it is...My friends helped me edit a lot of stuff ..so ...yeah...

MY FAVORITE BOOK/AUTHOR

Good Morning to one and all present here. Today I, Asena Rawlin, of class 12th will give my assessment of speaking skills on the topic - “My Favorite Book/Author ”

Humans have always been obsessed with escapism, and my favourite form of leaving this reality is to divulge in a great book. Just a few words and paragraphs on a page of parchment can take you to a different dimension, on an entirely new adventure.

It could take you through the author's mind and make you forget that you are living such a mundane life. What you're left with then, is another life, fully lived. It is as much your own as it is the creator’s. How then must one choose a favourite amongst these?

Be it J.K Rowling's high fantasy, Enid Blyton's enthralling adventures, Dan Brown's thriller, Leigh Bardugo’s mesmerizing Grishaverse or the genius and aesthetics of the classics...One thing that has always remained constant, is that Every time I read a book or a novel, be it of any genre, I get attached to every part of that book. The storyline, the characters, the writing style, the dialogues, the world, the morally grey characters, the villain! everything. The trauma, the tears, the emotions and the existential crisis that follows after turning the last page of the book, EVERY SINGLE THING!

Then tell me, How am I supposed to pick favourite. It would be like choosing one family over another. I cannot be the only one who feels that Choosing ‘the one’ is like betraying the others.

Perhaps somewhere in the future, I may declare a book as my favourite, I don’t know which book that may be, maybe the one I read next in my bucket list or maybe the one whose name I don’t even know yet but as of now, I am in love with each of them. I have grown up with those characters, learned something from each one of them. I have lived their life, shared their sorrows and happiness And Like William Feather quotes, ‘Finishing a good book is like losing a good friend’ and I have made so many books, my friend and I am very much looking forward to my future friendships.

Thank You

I think my teacher ...who I hate right now..because she replaced the best English teacher in the world and I respect her and her story methods but I do not like her at ALL but....where was i ...uh yes...I think she really liked it ... I think only a few students chose his topic and mine was the one that was not the typical one..and I presented it pretty nicely so ...let's see how many marks I get

[roseglimmerofhope]

ᴛɪᴛʟᴇ: English-APP Reading Record (September 14 - September 23)

UNIT 1 : The Nature of Academic Text

In this unit I have learned further knowledge about the Nature of Academic Text. To be honest, I had no idea what an academic text was at first, but thanks to our teacher who elaborate and make me understand what is the purpose for us to learn this lesson. So, according to what I've learned, academic text are specialist texts authored by skilled experts in the given field and they uses formal language. When we say formal, we're not referring to our everyday conversations. In academic writing for example the word didn't, we are obligated to write the two words did not instead of didn't. Academic text also delivers facts rather than our opinions, and it is technical since certain terms or phrases are required for a certain discipline. Another example is when we talk about the word train, it's meaning is strengthening or improving our skills, while another meaning of this is a kind of rail transportation. I also learned the IMRAD structure, which is very familiar to me due to our research subject. IMRAD stands for introduction, method, result, and discussion. The introduction states the issue that what was asked, the method that refers the used in study, the conclusion that what was discovered, and the interpretation of what the findings signify. We've also discussed the primary disciplines and their sub-disciplines, which include here the business, humanities, natural and applied sciences and social sciences. Business for those students like me who choose the ABM strand. Under the business we have accountancy, management, finance, marketing economics, and other fields relating to business ethics that fall under the ABM thread. These are the knowledge that I have learn in this unit. In addition, I now know how to analyze a text and able to figure out the different structures of an academic text.

UNIT 2 : THESIS AND OUTLINING

In this unit I have learned, that a thesis statement is like a roadway map for us readers. It tells us where our essay is about to go. It helps us to guide our ideas. The thesis statement is not only stated a topic, it states the main idea and it reflects our own opinions or our judgement towards about what we've read or in any of our personal experiences. It is comprehensible and expressive most importantly it is base on facts. I also learn that if I will make a thesis statement my thesis statement should be broad enough and will make an appeal or impact to my readers or to my audience and also specific enough for me to narrow it and I will be able to focus on the main points of the details in my argument. I must also have a back up with doing research or seeking information and gather them all with evidences to stand my statement. In this way I can be assure that my thesis statement will be a debatable and base on facts. On the other hand outlining is one of my favourite part of this unit the reason is that because of this I was able to get all of my ideas well organized before I start writing in the actual paper. This helps me to ensure my ideas are clear and connected to each other. My arguments are supported with evidences and I am writing in coherent manner.

UNIT 3 : SUMMARISING

One of the most crucial aspects of summarizing is that we must extract the key events or ideas from the source or in a specific paragraph and put them in our own words. In a nutshell, a summary is nothing more than an abstraction of the original text. It should be kept short and simple because we are only required to cite the main ideas. I used to think that summarizing was simple, but I was mistaken. I need to have a good reading comprehension and a thorough understanding of the entire text in order for me to grasp the important elements. Example of this is when you're telling a long narrative to your friend, but you only retelling the important details to keep the story short and much understandable. When we summarize a text or a paragraph, we must know how to recognize the major ideas, key facts, and supporting details, just like when we are writing an essay or a research paper. Using a single word makes our summary more clear and understandable at the same time. When we say we should use our own words, it doesn't mean that we should analyze and interpret the content according to our own understanding but instead, we should make our own summary sound like an independent piece without incorporating any form of misinterpretation. One thing I've learned is that we need to keep our summaries brief. Because a summary is short, we should be able to avoid repeating ideas while we are writing. This will maintain the flow of our summarized, and coherence is also a key feature. Even if we simply choose the most important points, we should ensure that our summary should be concise and well-organized.

UNIT 4 : PARAPHRASING

This unit has taught me more about paraphrasing. According to what I've learned, paraphrase is the process of rephrasing someone else's work or thoughts into our own words while maintaining the same level of the details. I've noticed that in academic writing, it's usually better to paraphrase rather than restate because it shows that we've read the source and able to understand it, makes our work more authentic, and improves our ability to communicate information. It is disadvantage for me also to take notes before I start paraphrasing for me to be able to create a good paraphrase. I have also learn the techniques in written sources. I recommend that we should be carefully read the original material to ensure that we thoroughly get to understand the text, and then after that we will establish the connections between the given text's concepts and our own ideas. Paraphrasing can truly assist us in putting the concepts of the text into our own words. In addition, I've learned also that paraphrasing is useful when we want to use someone else's notion to support our own ideas, but we shouldn't use their exact words if we want to clarify an author's idea to the readers and most importantly to ourselves.

UNIT 5 : CITING SOURCES

In this unit, I have learned further knowledge about the citing sources and it's importance. As I start my junior highschool life I remember how I usually experience being lazy and irresponsible student everytime our English teacher will gives us a task to do writing essays. Because of my laziness I tend to search and copy someone's else work online, in short I owned it without giving credits to the writer or author of that work. I didn't have any idea that time that it is a serious offense. In my own understanding to cite refers to the process of documenting and identifying the sources that we utilized in a piece of writing. We need to show where we found the information we used. It does not matter what or which type of source it is, whether hard copies or online, or whether it is an image we must do responsibilities to cite and credit the sources. We may commit plagiarism or copying the work of others without proper attribution and if we take someone's idea or information without properly crediting and acknowledging them. Another reason that we must cite the sources is so that our viewers or readers may get the information they need for their own usage and verify that our work is authentic. Citing sources has benefits, such as increasing our implausibility for ourselves and also in our works. It also protects us from plagiarizing. I realize now and regretted my past actions it is really wrong to steal someone's work without indicating its source or without their permission. I should motivate myself that time to do it on my own capability and I should think the efforts and struggle of that author for him/her to be able to finish that work. It is critical that we should aware of and follow these kind of principles. By this we can demonstrate that we appreciate and respect the owner's intellectual property rights by citing their works. For those students like me let's motivate ourselves to act as a responsible leaders and standing for integrity. #NOTOPLAGIARISM #CITETHESOURCES #PLAGIARISMCOMMITSCONSEQUENCES #RESPECTTHEOWNERSINTELLECTUALRIGHTS

[shes-not-mine]

“do you have a favourite class ms?”

my friend asked during english. sol looked up from the board and blinked.

“i don’t have favourites,” she denied, smiling.

“teachers always have favourites,” my other friend shouted out, rolling their eyes.

sol laughed, nodding her head, turning back to her writing. “of course we do.” but besides from that, didn’t elaborate.

“i wonder who her favourite student is,” whispered my friend beside me, eyes wide.

i blushed but rolled my eyes, continuing with my paragraph. 

“i think it’s you,” she shrugged.

i stopped writing, taken back.

“excuse me?” i choked.

“i said, you’re most probably her favourite student. at the very least, in this class,” she sighed, “do i need to continue?”

i shook my head pathetically and the pair of us went back to our work.

the thought circulated my brain all day and made me wonder:

am i really her favourite?

[hnderyx]

Yes I mean megalodon

Also thank you sir, I'm very interested in animals especially if they're marine animals hehe 😌

I wish I put that much thought into my essays too. Most thought I've put into a hw was when I wrote story that looked normal, but when you read the first word of each line it was the chorus to never gonna give you up

I rickrolled my English teacher and I didn't get a negative. I complain every lesson and she doesn't tell me off in not kidding I wrote mafia fanfic in English today and she said it was good. And once we were analysing something and one of the questions was "what 4 things do we learn about the 2 women in the first paragraph" and I legit said to her "can we use 4 synonyms for old. They're old, ancient, fossilized and antique" AND SHE STILL SAYS I'M A GOOD STUDENT IN LITERALLY SO ANNOYING TO HER

- Yangyangs wife

Lmao once I had a teacher that was obsessed with batman and idk once I insulted her and she didnt beat my ass and at the end of the year she said I was her favourite student along with my homie. We literally laughed 24/7 in class but alright ma’am.

[siriuslyblack12]

chapter 2

Sirius stood on the blocks, heart beating fast, legs threatening to give out at any moment. His arms gripped the block tighter, steadying his nerves as he let out a long breath. Thoughts spiralled chaotically in his head, impossible to ignore as they built in strength and severity.

 Is my cap on tight enough?

Don’t go too soon.

Don’t go too late.

I have to win. Dad’ll go mad if I don’t win.

I have to make him proud.

 I don’t give a shit whether I make him proud or not.

 “Mr Black,”

 Don’t breathe on breakout.

Don’t breathe at all.

You need to get a good time.

 “Mr Black,”

 Winning is everything.

But be a good loser.

 “Mr Black,” the distant voice was getting louder and louder.

 You know what happens when you lose.

 “Mr Black, I asked you a question! You could at least pretend to be paying attention.” Professor McGonagall scolded, bringing his attention back to the classroom. He wasn’t at the pool, rather in an English classroom, his almost empty page of notes lying in front of him.

 “I’m sorry, Professor. Won’t happen again.” He said shyly, not daring to meet her eyes.

 School had only started a couple of days ago and Sirius already felt as if he was suffocating. Their professors really weren’t holding back this year, piling up homework and lectures and revision to the point where the student’s backs ached with the pressure. Atop of all of that, social lives and media presences took a lot to keep afloat, as well as sport and fitness. Sport seemed to take up 90 percent of Sirius’s current brain capacity, which was now seeming to be a problem.

 English was by far his favourite subject, being the only one that he shared with all 3 of his closest friends. He looked over at James only to see him staring adoringly at the back of Lily’s red head, chin on his hands. With a roll of his eyes, he turned the other way to meet the sight of Peter sneaking snacks out of his bag, handing a few crisps to Remus under the desk. At least he was eating.

 The lesson came to an end with the sharp sound of the bell, and Sirius collected his things as quickly and quietly as possible, heading for the door to finally sort through the anxieties swirling in his head; until he heard an old voice call out, “Mr Black, can I speak to you for a moment?”

 Shit, this was exactly what he didn’t need.

Defeated and ashamed, Sirius was surprised as his eyes met a kind looking smile and a careful gesture to take a seat. His mind reeled in confusion, but he did what was asked of him anyway. McGonagall cleared her throat and began to speak.

 “Is everything alright?” Three words, simple yet powerful, and definitely out of the ordinary. He had no idea how to answer that, not exactly knowing where his boundaries were and how much he could say. He may have been one to overshare on social media, but he was certainly not one to spill his emotions wholeheartedly.

 “Never better, Minnie.”

 “It sure doesn’t seem like it, Mr Black. I remind you that this is a safe space.”

 Sirius looked down at his hands, wrapped in tight fists with his knuckles turning white with the effort. The walls suddenly felt as if hey were closing in on him, his heart rate picking up and foot tapping a rhythm on the floor.

 “I’m just finding it hard to concentrate, that’s all.” He said defensively. “Nothing I can’t handle.”

 McGonagall nodded glumly. This situation was uncomfortable to say the least. Sirius glanced back at the door of the room, where he could have sworn he saw Remus looking in through the window before hurrying away awkwardly. That boy was a mystery, which only drew Sirius further to him.

 “You know Sirius,” his professor never called him by his first name. “Help is always given to those who ask for it.”

  ~~

  “Please Moony,”

 “No.”

 “I’m begging you!”

 “No, Sirius.”

 “Why not? It’ll be fun, I promise. I really need it.”

 Sirius really was like an excited puppy, Remus thought to himself. He’d just been relaxing in the library, catching up on some reading and enjoying the quiet lull in the day before he was quite rudely interrupted by the one and only trade of Hogwarts High. He supposed he didn’t mind it, given that he was always happy for Sirius’s company – no matter the circumstances. However, on this occasion he was less willing to participate in what the other had planned, that being tutoring him.

 Remus let his mind wonder for a few moments, imagining what it would be like to be alone with Sirius, bonding over books and equation. Now that he thought about, it sounded stupid, but that wasn’t going to stop him.

 “Why are you asking me, Pads? Why not one of the girls?” He suggested thoughtfully. “I’m sure there are plenty of people who would be better than me.”

 “I’m calling bullshit, because you my friend are the smartest person I know.”

 Remus slumped back into his chair, his heart skipping a beat. He desperately wanted to say yes, to help him out and be a good friend. He knew that Sirius hated studying, so asking for the blue-eyed boy to help him with that must have been a challenge for him. He also knew that he needed to exercise at least some self-control. Maybe tutoring Sirius would be an excellent idea, a chance to do a good deed and spend some quality time boding with his crush at the same time, without it being too suspicious.

 Do you know how pathetic you sound?

 He watched as the boy in question looked down towards the floor, one hand running through his hair which Remus had quickly learned was a nervous habit of his. This wasn’t going to end well, nothing ever ended well for him. Rising to stand on two weak legs, he swept his things that had been spread over the table into his bag and slung it over his shoulder with as much swagger as he could muster. He looked back to see that Sirius’s eyes were trained on him, silently reading the room and atmosphere.

 “Tomorrow lunch, 12:30, in the library. Don’t you dare be late.”

 Remus walked briskly away, not waiting see Sirius’s reaction and biting back a wide smile.

 ~~

 Turns out that tutoring Sirius Black was not the gentle, romantic, flirt-fest he thought it would be, and was in fact turning out to be a lost cause. The boy had a lot of trouble recalling metaphors, understanding Shakespeare and the like, frustrating Remus with basically everything he said. Often times he would zone out, picking at a loose thread on his t-shirt or twirling a piece of hair through his fingers, and even more likely were his frankly stupid remarks that were only made out of his compulsive need to be the funniest in the room. The most stupid thing about them is that they were actually funny, and Remus couldn’t always contain his laughter.

 “Pads, stop, stop, no,” He warned. “You cannot compare Romeo and Juliet to fucking Spider-Man and MJ.”

 “What? Why not? It fits, that’s all that matters, right? Sirius reasoned, pen between his teeth.

 “You have to get rid of that. The whole paragraph would probably be best, so it still makes sense.”

 “But that’s my best one! If you didn’t like that then you’re definitely not gonna like the next few.”

 Remus buried his face in hands, as Sirius took the essay and out of his hands and ripped it right in half. Drama queen was the only thing he thought to think but a closer look at the other’s face told a different story. “You didn’t have to do that.” Remus said softly.

 Sirius didn’t reply, instead opening his notebook and flipping through to find a blank page and start again. The remnants of drawings and doodles did not go unnoticed, some of which were surprisingly good. He wasn’t taking art this year, but by the looks of the pages in front of him, he should be. Sirius got back to work quickly, scribbling none sense that wouldn’t do him any favours in front of his teachers.

 “C’mon, you can do better than that. Let me help you.” Remus pried the pen from his hand and pushed the textbook towards him. “And no more drama.”

 “Wouldn’t dream of it.” Sirius added with an enthusiastic wink that made him swoon and squirm in his seat.

 The table was subdued for the next few minutes, Remus’s intelligence never failing to impress Sirius, but this was more due to the fact that he shared practically none of the same wit. He wasn’t actually as clueless as he had previously made himself out to be, but that didn’t keep him from acting like it. Perhaps some people’s smarts were more suited to other areas: those areas not exactly helping Sirius’s grades. Remus helping him out was just an extra bonus, or so he told himself.

 Long hair fell into his eyes as Sirius leaned over Remus’s shoulder, too close for comfort, inspecting what he was pointing to and explaining. Something about themes that even Remus was quickly forgetting as the boy by his shoulder got closer.

 His trance was broken as the bell rang, penetrating through his ears, earning a laugh out of Sirius as he jumped slightly.

 “Well, moony, I best get going,” he said briskly. “Maybe we could do this again sometime, eh?”

 “Yeah, sure, yeah” Remus stumbled exasperatedly, a blush forming on his cheeks that was often present these days. “Whenever you need me.”

 It was an authentic moment, sweet and short, but meaningful nonetheless. Until…

 “Padfoot! Moony! Get over here, Peter’s trying to arm wrestle Marlene.” James. Always one to ruin it.

 “Poor thing, why the hell would he?” Sirius laughed, rushing to follow him. “Moons, you coming?”

 Remus smiled. “You go ahead, I’ve got my own work to catch up on.”

 “Are you sure?”

 “Yeah, I’m sick of you anyway.” He added sarcastically, earning another deep laugh.

 ~~

 They continued to have these study sessions, Sirius becoming alarmingly enthusiastic about what would once have kept him far away and out of reach. It was a strange change in the groups’ dynamic, as where Remus and Lily would disappear of to the library, or a classroom to interrogate professors about the work, Sirius now trailed along with them. The red-headed girl had at first raised her eyebrows, or squinted her eyes suspiciously, but had now acclimated nicely. But that didn’t stop her from forming her own theories about what was going on with Remus and Sirius.

 This also had the unexpected effect of getting James Potter of all people in the library for what must have been the first time in his life. Seeing Sirius so confident surrounded by nerdy things like books and papers had been the push he needed to follow him and shamelessly flirt with Lily. Remus noted the way she tucked her hair behind her ears and fiddled with her bracelets whenever James was around.

 At this current moment, the four of them were hard at work on different projects, making mindless small talk as they grew increasingly bored. Sirius whispered something to James, obviously amusing as they burst into fits of laughter.

 “Do you two ever shut up?” Lily said, fighting her own amusement.

 “Lily, my dear,” she rolled her eyes. “That would take the fun out of it!”

 More comments were exchanged, mainly between Lily and James, as Remus found himself unable to form any words of his own in the presence of Sirius.

 Stop it. If you fall too deep you won’t be able to swim back up.

 Maybe I don’t want to swim back up anymore.

 “Hey, moons, what do you think about this?” Sirius questioned happily, thrusting a sketchbook towards him. To say it was absolutely beautiful would be an understatement, Remus thought as he studied what was in front of him. It was a detailed drawing, all in coloured pencil, of a field at sunset. The outline of a forest coated in orange and pink shades covered the page and his eyes were drawn to the silhouette of a rabbit, burying itself a hole in the grass.

 “I’ve been trying my hand at art, my dad hates it.” He said, directed only at Remus. “I know you saw some drawings the other day and thought you’d like it.”

 “I-, Sirius this is amazing.” He gushed, until Lily saw what he was looking at and joined on his shock.

 “Where have you been hiding all this talent? Are you serious?!” She squealed.

 “Nah, I’m Sirius. You know that.” The familiar joke didn’t exactly catch anyone off-guard.

 Remus’s mind went to what he’d said about his father, and he began to wonder the exact meaning. He only knew what everyone knew about Sirius’s home life: it was shit and he didn’t like to talk about it. He’d speculated that his parents were quite controlling, but the details were unknown. James hadn’t even been informed.

 He secretly hoped that perhaps one day he would know, and he would be able to help Sirius through whatever was going on, but he would wait until the other boy was ready. In the meantime he supposed he would do whatever he could, whilst making sure his secret didn’t show itself.

 He’s your friend. That’s all.

 But when a friend is hurting, you should put in a little more effort.

[fortheloveofkuroo]

Lavender Hydrangea

A/n: this story is actually one of my first early bnha imagine. And it's angsty yall~ Pardon for any typos or grammatical error. English is not my first language and i'm still learning.

Kaminari Denki × F!Reader

!!WARNING!!: Blood

---

15th July

A blonde boy suddenly running through the school corridor quickly. He's out of breath. His right hand is covering his mouth while the other hand holding on his bag.

His legs quickly bring himself to the dorm. He storms in the dorm, ignoring anyone who's attention is on him now.

After he made it through the dorm, he walks quickly to the Lift, the burning and stuffy sensation on his chest is undeniable.

Right after the Lift's door closed, he let out a loud cough that he's been holding from earlier. He tried to hold the burning and painfull cough once again, but it's useless. He feels like his chest and his throat are about to explode.

He keeps coughing. His body is already on the floor. Even his legs can't keep his body standing up just by holding the cough. His eyes are closed tightly. His chest is constantly moving up and down and his mouth is gasping for air.

But then, he feels something strange coming out from his mouth. It's coming along with the cough. Don't know what is it but he's pretty sure that he's not ready to look at it.

Finally, just a minute after his coughing stopped, he brave himself to open his eyes. His eyes widened. His breath started to hitch again. He's surrounded with a medium-sized lavender colored petal. It's all over his lap and his legs.

What is this? What happen to my body?" he wonder. His head is a little dizzy. Before the Lift's opened, he managed to collect the petals and holding it in his hands.

Then, the lift's opened.

A girl with (H/C) hair and beautiful (E/C) eyes is standing infront of him. Looking so gorgeous. "Kaminari?" you smiled. Looking over the boy with blonde hair who's face is red as hell.

Your gentle voice is floating around his body and mind. Causing him to squeezing his hands that's full of lavender colored petal. That burning sensation is now back in his chest.

"(L-L/N).." he stuttered. His voice was tight. Showing that he's nervous. He don't have that enough courage to look straight to your eyes right now. "Yes? What is it?" you asked, moving your body closer to him. Observing him slowly.

He gasped. A tinge of pink is coloring his cheek. And that burning and stuffy sensation in his chest are just getting worse. His hand quickly move to his mouth, covering it. He bowed to you and quickly ran off.

His legs managed to get him inside just in time. Because he can't hold it anymore. He fell on all fours. His cough is hard and painfull. He can feel a sharp pain in his throat.

His eyes decided to took a glance at his palm, a sticky dark red fluid is staining the lavender colored petal on his hand. His hands are shaking. He quickly washed over that fluid off his hand and throw himself to his bed.

"What happened to me..?" he wondered inside his head as he's slowly asleep.

17th July

Kaminari walked limply through the corridor. Finally made his way to the class. He's not as cheerfull as usual. In fact, he looks so pale and lifeless just like a zombie.

When his hand open the door, everyone's eyes are on him but he just walk straight to his chair. Ignoring someone's voice that's been calling him for a while.

After he made himself comfy, a girl comes up to him with a gentle smile. A girl that he always think about. A girl that as beautiful as a lavender hydrangea on the school's garden that he always take care of.

It's you.

"Morning Kaminari!" you greet him cheerfully. His chest is getting stuffy again and his heart beats faster.

"M-Morning (L/C).." he answered. Again, his voice is kind of hoarse you think. You flash a quick smile again to him and leave. Joining the girls.

His cough strikes again, this time two petals of lavender hydrangea is coming out from his lips. He quickly threw it off from the window and ignore it. Focusing his eyes on you. Observing every action and smile everytime you smile too.

Untill a boy with two tone hair approach you. He let his arm rest on your shoulder.

His eyes immediately widened. His chest is burning again. A sharp pain striking his chest again. This time, it's more painfull. He's new to this.He quickly ran and leave, leaving his friend's confused.

He just saw you, the girl that he like with Todoroki. Your...

Boyfriend.

He quickly flushed the toilet and went back to the class room. Pretending that nothing happened. The class is starting and he just hope that he doesn't cough in the middle of the lesson.

---

And so the 4th subject is over, now it's time for lunch.

"Oi dunce face, let's go to the Cafeteria." asked a boy with ash blonde hair and ruby eyes. But Kaminari just smiled weakly and pat that boy's shoulder. "Sorry Bakugou, just go without me. I need to do something." he refused.

Surprisingly, Bakugou just stood there and being silent. No yelling, shouting or even one swear word is coming out from his mouth.

Kaminari's legs are moving faster and faster. He make sure that none of his classmates is following him. He stopped infront of a big brown Woody door. A silver plank is attached to the door. It sayang "Library".

He's confident that this is the right place to look for the answer. He can simply search through internet though, but gadget aren't allowed in school without a strict supervision from the teachers. Kaminari is not quite a reading person, but he feel like this is the only way to know the answer.

Afterall, UA's library is filled with a lots of famous and even the most rarest and strangest book you've ever found. He move quickly, shelf by shelf. Walking pass the Disease shelf, he noticed something.

"Weird Disease All Around The World."

His hand snatch that red book. The cover is already fading. And the paper are brown. But it's still readable. He sat himself down to one of the chair near him. Flipping through the pages unpatiently. He keeps flipping page by page untill his yellowish eyes catches something.

It was a picture of a woman with a rose petal coming out from her mouth.

Bingo.

He study the article below the picture carefully.

"Hanahaki Disease;

A disease that cause victim coughs up flower petals when they suffer from one-sided love. It ends when the beloved returns their feelings (romantic love only; strong friendship is not enough), or when the victim dies. It can be cured through surgical removal, but when the infection is removed, the victim's romantic feelings for their love also disappear."

He gazed over the last sentences and froze. This is what happen to him. He got Hanahaki. He continue to read the next paragraph.

"How to cure Hanahaki disease?

There is no sign on how to cure this disease with medical ways except taking the out by force with surgical and forcing them to erasing their feelings toward their crush. The only safe and accurate cure is their crush return their feelings. And the disease will be gone completely. We can only hope for the patients, and pray that the crushes favourite flower isn’t a type of rose."

Kaminari curses under his breath. There is no way to find another cure. And now he's faced with a difficult options. He have to went on a surgery and erased his feelings for you completely or died because of hydrangea growing in his lungs.

Or, he can make you fall in love with him? But that's impossible right?

Kaminari rest his tired back and lean back then continue to read.

"The length of the disease varies with each person. But on an average, it will last up to 2 or 3 months, but sometime it’ll only last, a couple weeks."

And that hit him hard. He only 2 - 3 months or maybe even a week. Shit, he don't even know if he even make it next week. Maybe he already...

27th June

He made it. He made it through a week.

It was a sunny Thursday. A nice day to be out and feel the sunlight touch.

Kaminari on the other hand, he's busy in the school garden. He goes to the garden right after school, taking care of that lavender hydrangea that he adore so much.

His hand touches the branch and the leaves gently. Handling it with much love and care. Why? Because, this hydrangea always remind him of someone. Someone who's always in his mind.

His mind goes back to that day.

---

That day, the sky is showing off its beautiful orange color. The gentle breeze even goes along with it.

His friend already went home earlier. While he needs some extra training to improve his durability against his electricity.

He pass around the corridor that connect the school garden and the way out, he keeps walking untill his eyes catches something.

A siluet near the hydrangea.

It was a girl. Alone. She hugged her knees and her shoulders are trembling. She look down and he can't even look at her face.

She's crying.

Kaminari surprised. He work his way slowly to approach that girl. Trying not to scare her away.

"Um, hey?"

As expected, she jolts up and surprised. Her face is as red as tomato and tears start to streaming down to her cheek.

It was you. The new student that just got transferred at his class a few days ago. "..Hey? What's wrong?" he asked softly.

No response. You just wipe your cheek, trying to hiding the dry tears. Kaminari's hand out of nowhere trying to reach to you now. His fingertips slowly make his way to your face and start to wiping your tears away. Of course you can't help to blush.

"U-Um.." you sniffled.

"What's wrong? You can tell me." Kaminari squats down infront of you and start to picking some stem of hydrangea. It's lavender colored and it's stunning.

"I was just.. Having a hard time." you murmured. Both of your hand now hugging your knees. And your eyes start to burning. That's when you know that the tears are coming.

"Shit. I have to do something. Anything." Kaminari think to himself. He have to do something to make you stop crying.

Then, slowly and carefully, his hands started to wrapped around your body. Hugging you with a lot caution as if you're fragile and he's afraid that he might break you. He's trying to give warmth and comfort to you.

And no lust. He's purely moved by your tears. And the moment he saw your tears, he want to stop it. He slowly pat your back slowly while you're sniffing and sobbing.

"There there.. Everyone got a hard time. I'm here to calm you down, so if you want to talk about it, i'll shut my mouth and listen. If you want to hit me, it's fine too y'know! But don't blame me if you got zapped first!" Kaminari's calm and cheerfull tone are making you better.

After around 15 minutes of hugs and calming, you finally got off from Kaminari's hug with a relieved smile.

"Thank you Kaminari, you really helped me to calm myself.." you said softly. That pink tinge is still visible from your soft cheek.

Kaminari don't know what the hell is he thinking of, his hand move on his own again. Hydrangea that he just picked earlier is now on your ears. He slipped it on there.

You just chuckled sweetly and smiled again. Giving him your sweetest smile that makes him blush like crazy.

"Once again thank you Kaminari."

The wind is stupidly a little strong this evening and blowing your hair. Don't forget the cherry blossom's petals that got blown with the wind too. Now you both looks like you're in a scene of a movie.

"Stupid wind." he think.

You, who's now able to smile and happy again decided to leave and say goodbye to Kaminari. From that moment, he somehow have the urges to protect you. His heart have been captured by you only and he also know that you have to be his.

But then the rumour spreads.

That you and Todoroki got together. At first, he doesn't believe that. At all. But what to do? Right in front of his eyes, he saw Todoroki gave you a sweet peck at your forehead. Right in front of his eyes.

His heart is shattered to pieces. Completely destroyed.

For 3 damn days he don't leave his room. Kirishima, Sero tried to get him out of there. Even Bakugou blows his door open and eventually dragged him and force to go out.

Then he had Hanahaki.

---

Kaminari started to remember how is it feels like holding you in his hands. That warm feelings always keeping his hope up. It's always make him smile.

He cuts the branches that grew around the hydrangea then watering it. "If only i could meet her here. Once again." he whispered to himself.

He's smiling just by imagining if he meet you here again and chit chat-ing with you.

"Come on!" untill he hear a voice. A familiar voice. That just by listening to her voice, his heartbeat is beating faster. Then there you are. Looking so beautiful walking across the park. Hye prepared himself to greet you.

But then he realized that you're not alone. There is another person. A guy. Their hands are clasp together and their fingers are interwined with each

His chest started to get heavy.

"Ah! Kaminari!" your eyes noticed him the very second you step your legs on the park. You quickly approach him with Todoroki following behind you

"How pretty.. You take care of this?" you asked, full of curiousity. Kaminari only nods.

You smiled. "It sure bring back memories, huh? Remember that time you calm me down here? Thanks a lot to you, though.." you touched his hand and started to shake it. You can feel a little zap on your fingers.

The electricity suddenly hits Kaminari to the top of his head. Todoroki who's just quiet and doesn't care at all now he takes your hand back and hold it again.

"Really? Then i have to thank you too Kaminari." he said blankly while giving you a light peck at the temples.

Kaminari's eyes widened.

"Shoto! I told you not in public.." Todoroki tilt his head. "Did i do something wrong?"

Kaminari's breath hitched. His mouth is open wide, gasping for air. He's breathless. The stingy and burning sensastion are now all over his respitarory system and he start coughing again. Blood splattered and hydrangea petals are all over his lap.

The young couple watched in horror as Kaminari suffering with his cough. Unable to process what the hell happened and what to do, they both just stood there in shock.

And Kaminari is still coughing. His hand already hitting his chest so many times, but it's just numb. He doesn't feel anything but a sharp pain in his chest. He feels something stuck in the end of his throat and he forcefully try to reach it and pull it out. He did. He ended up gags and vomit a whole branch of Hydrangea with the same shape and size to the one he gave you at that time.

The last thing he remember hearing is your faint voice calling his name then everything went black.

28th June

Kaminari opens his eyes.

He's in a strange room. A room that smells like medicine and everything is in white. And he's laying in the middle of the room with oxygen mask.

He turn to his left, a boy with ash blonde hair is sleeping peacefully, Bakugou. His face looks tired. Then on his right, a girl with pink hair, Mina. And next to her there are Kirishima and Sero.

"You guys.." he said weakly. His voice won't come out from his throat. Bakugou, hearing soneone may called him immediately woke up. He's surprised looking at Kaminari who's now looking so pale.

"You awake." he said sternly.

Kaminari looks around and asked, "What.. Happened?" He's clueless. Kirishima, who just woke up shocked. He immediately hysterical, followed with Mina.

"Why don't you tell us if you had Hanahaki?!"

Kaminari turn his face away from his friend. "I don't want to be a burden for you guys. Anyway this is just nothing. It's not important-" "Not important?"

Bakugou stands up. His vein looks like almost popped out. He's clenching his fist tight.

"You've been unconscious for a whole damn day and there are 4 hydrangeas in your left lung and 5 in the right blocking oxygen and it's not important to you?" explained Bakugou angrily. His hand suddenly gripping Kaminari's hospital gown's collar.

"You better fucking listen Kaminari. I'm only saying it once. I don't want to lose my friend, so live. Do whatever you need to do. We're always here and don't think that we're just a bunch of dumb manequin that always around you. We're your friend goddamnit. Tell us!" Bakugou pushed Kaminari away and left. Cooling his head perhaps.

Kirishima nods. Letting the doctor came in and check.

"Let's do a quick check up." the doctor quickly checked Kaminari's whole body. He brought a big document and giving it to Kaminari.

"What is that..?" Kaminari asked.

"Your X-Ray results. You're lucky to be alive now kid." praise the doctor as he open the document and show it to Kaminari. "See that giant lump? That's the flower that's been gowing in your lungs kid."

Kaminari nods. While Mina and Sero shudders in fear and stick to Kirishima. "And how to get rid of it?"

"Of course with surgery. But of course you know what will happen don't you?" said that doctor while preparing to leave. He place something on the desk and a pen.

"That's the contract if you agree to do the surgery. Just sign it if you agree. Nurse will come and take it tomorrow. Think wisely kid, if the flower is not removed soon, you only have less than a week to live." explained that doctor. Then he leaves. Leaving Kaminari no choice.

Kirishima's mad. He can't accept this.

"Denki this is stupid. You need to do the surgery soon!" beg Sero while Kirishima's thinking. Kaminari got Hanahaki. It's a one-sided love. But with who?

"Who?" Kirishima asked suddenly. His voice is beyond serious this time. Kaminari who got no clue just tilt his head, "Huh?"

"You like who Kaminari? Tell us!" force Kirishima.

Kaminari frozed. This whole time he never even tell one of his close friends about his feelings. Because he think that they will never understand.

He's wrong.

Kirishima, Mina, and Sero keep forcing him to tell who's his crush is. Untill they got the point where he finally gave up. Kaminari sighed and take a deep breath.

"It's (Y/N)."

Kirishima widened his eyes while Mina froze. Sero shakes his head and sighed sadly.

"You serious? (L/N) (Y/N)?" Sero crossed his hand and stare at his friend.

"Relax. I like her even before she's ended up with Todoroki." he answered.

Sero scratch his head. "This is too hard Denki."

"I know." His hand snatch the paper that's on the table and signed it.

29th June

A guy with that blonde hair is still asleep. His chest is now wrapped with bandages neatly. He should be awake now because the anesthesia effect should be gone by now.

Kaminari stretch his body slowly. Opening his eyes and blinks it a few times, trying to get it focus. His eyes are sticky and his throat is dry.

His eyes wander around, looking for some clock untill he find one. It shows 10 o'clock. The sun shine is piercing trough the window softly.

Unexpectedly, the door's burst open. Someome familiar is now entering his room.

"Kaminari! Happy birthday! I'm so sorry yesterday i can't visit you. So i figured today will be perfect!" she smile widely. "Hey Kaminari. Get well soon." A guy with two tone hair standing beside her also talks.

"Ah Todoroki.. Thanks." he remembered that the two tone haired guy is one of his classmate.

The girl that's now standing beside Todoroki smiles. Hoping that Kaminari will talk to her too.

It was you.

Kaminari looks at you weirdly and as if you're a stranger to him. He's confused.

"I'm sorry but.. Who are you?"

"Not only erasing their feelings towards their crushes, but it can also erase some of their important memory of her/him which leads to a light insomnia about this spesific people."

---

I've been writing and perfecting this imagine for almost a month now. Also i add something in the end. I think that adding some insomnia part will turn the whole fic better so yeaah, Here's some adorable Denki to cheer up your day~

ALSO HAPPY BIRTHDAY MY SUNSHINE