#I also graded their writing and gave them a quiz

[itspileofgoodthings]

I am legitimately so proud of all I have done in teaching this week.

[ms-demeanor]

*screaming*

*continued screaming*

Okay. So. My introductory Visual C# class.

The professor for that class was Alice. Alice was the person who spoke in the introductory video and the person who we were supposed to email if we had any issues.

But all of the assignments, lectures, and quizzes were written and delivered by Bob. On the youtube channel "Bob's programming academy." The quizzes included Bob's name, like "if you do X will it return the string ProfessorBob, Professor, Bob, or Professor.Bob?"

This class was really frustrating for me because it was structured in such a way that you could easily pass the class with zero knowledge of the subject - it was totally based on quizzes that you could take an unlimited number of times and we *had* weekly programming assignments but they weren't graded so there was no incentive to do them (and look, if I wanted to teach myself programming with no incentives I could fail for several years to do that on my own, I don't need to pay fifty bucks a unit for that; the reason I am in a *class* and am not self-taught is because I need external motivation. That's why I sought out a class).

Also when there *was* a problem with an instruction that was unclear in one of the videos for the assignments, or if I thought I'd done something correctly that was very much incorrect, it wasn't Alice who had created the instructions, it was Bob - in 2017 no less - and I didn't really feel like I could ask Alice for help with an ungraded assignment that she hadn't written.

So. Now. My Python class.

Today is the first day of class. Professor is Charles.

I go to the mandatory attendance quiz and it is word-for-word the same mandatory attendance quiz as the C# class, down to the final question "what is your personal email address so I can keep in contact with you after the semester?"

I look at the syllabus.

Class grade is based on quizzes. We have assignments but none of them are graded. There's no textbook, just a series of videos from Professor Bob's Programming Academy.

So I'd been toying with staying at this school and trying to take more CS classes instead of going to another school, just to try to keep my records easier to manage, but since it seems like that *ENTIRE DEPARTMENT* is five Professor Bobs in a trenchcoat, I will probably be going somewhere else (and once again trying to force myself to do projects that I already know are *good for me to do* but *useless for the class and a massive time suck*)

I should drop this class. I should drop this class and apply for the other school so that I can start taking classes there in the spring because if I take this class and then go into the object oriented programming class in the spring and it's another professor bob sock puppet and I end up taking twelve units of programming classes where all I learn is how to google answers in a short time frame (something I already know how to do thanks) I am going to fucking lose it.

Also, again: I have a Bachelor's Degree. I spent five years at a community college when I was getting that degree. I took probably a dozen online classes starting in 2005 and going until 2011 in the process of getting that degree.

THIS bullshit, this "I'm your professor but actually I'm not and all the materials were created by someone else in the department or came directly from the textbook publisher and there is no writing and there are no assignments everything is multiple choice quizzes that are automatically graded" is *dogshit.*

This is NOT how online classes worked back in my day, not even online math classes, and as much as I know adjuncts are getting fucked over by academia in general, this isn't something that these professors should be getting paid as much as they are to do. Alice checked whether or not students turned in a hello world assignment and gave a pass/fail grades for three discussion boards that were responses to youtube videos. Nothing else in the class required her input. If this is the level of instruction that students are getting then the class is already automated and the students shouldn't have to pay for it.

This is crap. This is an incredible level of crap.

[silverryuan]

Divus Crewel with the Kid from Don't Whack Your Teacher

Strictly Platonic. Also, I just realized that hearts aren't gonna stop Tumblr from deleting some of my posts.

Warnings: Heavy Violence, Swearing, IF YOU'VE HEARD OF THIS GAME I SWEAR NO ONE'S GONNA DIE.

• Let's just say that you got enrolled here by your parents or escorted by the Ebony Carriage. Either way, you're gonna be here for the rest of the school years :)!

• You'll be 13 years old here. Everyone was surprised by how young you are and underestimated you, especially Savanaclaw students, but they backed off after you gave them the impression of not to treat you like a child. How? We'll see...

• Crewel's first impression of you was normal, at first. He sees that you're a very quiet pup and always mind your own business. However, he doesn't like how your attention is always glued to your phone... You're just like that Shroud pup. Because of that, he would always remind the class to put away their gadgets before starting the lesson.

{Alchemy Classroom}

Ace: "Pssst! Crewel's walking over here!"

Kid! Yuu: "😶!"

Deuce: "Kid! Yuu, please put your phone away!"

• One time, he saw you looking at your phone during one of his pop quizzes and and got infuriated. He walked up to you and tapped your shoulder with his pointer stick. You put your game on pause to look up.

Kid! Yuu: "...Huh?"

Crewel: "And look what we have here..."

• He snatched the phone before you could even hide it. He hold up the phone in the air and glared at you.

Crewel: "I will be confiscating this for a week."

Kid! Yuu: "😡"

Crewel: "That look won't work on me, young pup. Focus on the quiz!"

Kid! Yuu: *grumbles*

Ace: "I warned ya."

• You couldn't stand a week without your phone. After today's classes, you told Grim to go home without you and you head straight to the faculty room to recover your confiscated gadget. You knocked on the door and one of the staff ghosts answered. You ask the ghost if you could see Professor Crewel and ask him about an assignment. The ghost let you in and guided you to his office.

Staff Ghost, knocks at the door: "Mr. Crewel?"

Crewel: "Yes?"

Staff Ghost: "A student wants to see you."

Crewel: "Oh? Come in then."

Staff Ghost: "He said you can come in. I'll be off now."

Kid! Yuu: "Thanks...."

Staff Ghost: "Don't mention it, kid."

{Crewel's Office}

• You opened the door and stepped inside the office. Crewel was writing away at his desk, recording scores from the students' quiz papers. He raised his head and his brows furrowed at you.

Crewel: "Ah... Young pup. I was about to ask someone to fetch you. Sit down, we need to talk."

Kid! Yuu, sits down: "......"

• Crewel started searching his desk drawers. The room was silent, only the sound of the wall clock ticking and the flipping of papers. You analyzed the room, it's much cleaner than the average teacher's office. There are shelves containing bottles, books, and scrolls. A coat rack for holding Crewel's fur coat but the man is still wearing it. His desk has papers stacked up (most likely Crowley gave him extra paperwork), a couple of pens, a stapler, a trashcan on the side, and of course, the chairs you and him are sitting on.

Crewel: "Hmmm... Where is it?... Ah, here it is."

• Crewel pulled out a file and scanned through it. He sets the file down on the desk, pointing at the paper.

Crewel: "Pup, while I've been recording your scores, I'm disappointed that you scored lowest out of everyone. It was a 50 item test, yet you scored none."

Kid! Yuu: "...."

Crewel: "I don't understand this. Do you even value your grades? You're a prodigy, correct? You should be smarter than this... You must pay more attention to class lessons. When the master orders that you listen, you must listen. If you won't, you'll be dropped out, have I made myself clear, pup?."

Kid! Yuu: ".................."

Crewel: "Speak up."

Kid! Yuu: "..............................."

Crewel: "*sigh*, fine. If this is about your phone, I won't be returning it for a week. And looking at your score, I'll be extending the confiscation."

• Now this is one of the aspect of yours that Crewel does not like. You are too quiet. But for a quiet person your actions are very loud, considering the amount of Savanaclaw students terrified of your wrath. Crowley insisted that the faculty should turn a blind eye from your rudeness and keeping you here just because he doesn't want to deal with the Overblots. Grim's presence around you doesn't help either.

Crewel: "If you want to me to give you a second chance, I'll give you limited time to study and memorize all the magic elements and potions for this semester. Afterwards, come to my office again and I will provide a do-over sheet of the quiz, understand pup?"

Kid! Yuu: "........yes."

Crewel: "Speak up."

Kid! Yuu: "....yes."

Crewel: "It's "Yes, Professor Crewel.""

Kid! Yuu: "Ugh....Yes, Professor Crewel..."

Crewel: "... I know that you are younger than the average student, but pup, you must act like a decent adult so that everyone won't treat you like you're a bratty mutt. You're lucky that you're a child otherwise I would be far stricter. But that doesn't mean I'll turn a blind eye for you during my lectures. Now if you don't have any more questions, you are dismissed."

• You stood and take your bag, excited that you'll be leaving Crewel's boring scolding. You turn the door handle but Crewel stopped you...

Crewel: "Stay, pup!"

Kid! Yuu: "!!!"

Crewel: "What in the..."

• Crewel scanned through the file again and read another paper. It says...

"Due to Kid! Yuu's violent behavior and tendencies, they will be expelled from Elementary School. The undeniable evidence of their expulsion relating to the case of the assaulted and murdered teacher which ultimately resulted to them being the suspect as the fingerprints of the weapon matches theirs. However, the suspect escaped the arrest, including their parents. Until now, the police department still have no lead to where the suspect is hiding. If you have any contact with the suspect, please report immediately to the authorities."

Crewel: "....Pup, explain thi--"

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

• If Crewel hadn't raised his head for 5 seconds, his head would have been skewered by his own coat rack. He dodged the attack, making sure that the distance between you and him won't let you go near him, and pulled out his magical pointer at the ready. Angered by Crewel's quick reflexes, you dropped the rack and equipped the chair. You chased him around the room, trying to find an opening from his defensive attacks.

Crewel: "PUP, PUT THE CHAIR DOWN OR I'LL BE FORCED TO TAKE DRASTIC MEASURES."

Kid! Yuu: "......!"

• Despite your assault, Crewel took precaution in casting minor damage and restraining spells to not heavily injure you for you are still but a child. You got tired of chasing him around so you climbed up his desk and equipped the wall clock.

Crewel: "I WILL NOT SAY IT AGAIN. PUT. YOUR. WEAPON. DOWN!!"

Kid! Yuu: "...YAH!"

• You threw the wall clock towards Crewel like a frisbee but he summoned a shield before it could hit his right knee. You even more became more agitated and more aggressive. This time you equipped his pens and charged at the man. Crewel counterattacks your makeshift stabbing tools but he was too slow to counter the half-shattered potion bottle and you stabbed him with the pointed shards.

Crewel: "!!!"

Kid! Yuu: "...pant...pant..."

• Drops of red dripped to the floor. You looked up at his face, expecting to see his pained expression, but you stepped back after seeing the shock twisted into the angered face of a devil. His fur coat was thick so you didn't stab him that deep. The man stared at his ruined coat and back to you with almost murderous intentions.

Crewel: "...Why you little mutt..."

Kid! Yuu: "!!"

• Looks like your punching and kicking won't do anything as the man grabbed you by the collar and shouted for the Security Ghosts.

Crewel: "LOOK WHAT YOU DID TO MY COAT! My beautiful coat... RUINED! TORN BY YOUR FILTHY LITTLE PAWS! THAT'S IT!!! I'M TEACHING YOU PROPER DISCIPLINE!! GUARDS!!! CROWLEY!!!"

• The loud volume from the man made you cover your ears. You then feel Crewel moving and slamming your body onto a chair and summoned leather belts around your arms. You struggled breaking through the belts to the point of trying to bite it off. Crowley and the guards arrived, their jaws agape seeing Divus' damaged office.

Ghost Guard A: "W-what happened here, sir?"

Ghost Guard B: "Did someone attack you?"

Crowley: "Divus! What is--"

Crewel: "CROWLEY."

Crowley: "...gulp...y-yes..?"

Crewel: "I CAN NO LONGER TOLERATE YOUR IGNORANCE ANYMORE! DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA HOW YOUR SO-CALLED CHILD PRODIGY BEHAVED?! LIKE A DOG WITH RABIES!!"

Crowley: "W-well now, Crewel, I think you're overexaggerating-"

Crewel: "THEIR REPORT CARD DOES NOT CONTAIN A SINGLE DIGIT, THEIR BEHAVIOR IS IMPULSIVELY UNFORGIVABLE, THEY TURNED MY OFFICE UPSIDE DOWN, THEY RUINED MY COAT, AND NOW, THEY EVEN TRIED TO KILL ME!!!"

Crowley: "Oh Sevens! That must explain the mess. Your office does look like a tornado flew in here."

Crewel: "EXPEL THEM IMMEDIATELY."

Crowley: "What? No! I beg your pardon, Crewel. But I won't-"

Crewel, shoves the file to Crowley: "HAVE YOU SEEN THEIR FILES? THAT CHILD IS A FUCKING MURDERER! YOU'RE OUT OF YOUR MIND IF YOU INSIST ON KEEPING THEM DESPITE THEM HAVING CRIMINAL RECORD. IF YOU WON'T HAND THEM OVER TO THE POLICE, THEN I WILL."

Crowley: "WAIT! CREWEL! WHERE ARE YOU GOING?!"

Crewel: "I AM BLEEDING, YOU DUMBASS! I'M GOING TO THE INFIRMARY, OF COURSE!!"

Ghost Guards: "Looks like the file checks out. Kid's an actual killer."

Ghost Guard B: "Oh welp. Sorry kid, but you're gonna have to come with us."

Kid! Yuu: "😮‍💨..."

• After Crewel patches up his stab wound, he dragged you by the ear and ordered Crowley to call for the Ebony Carriage to send you to the police department. They also made sure to accompany you with a Ghost Guard to make sure you won't try anything and explain to the authorities about what you've done. Crewel finally exhaled a sigh of relief... He can't believe he almost got murdered! Attempted by a child no less!

Grim: "H-hey! Who the heck are you people?! Where are you taking my henchman?!"

Ghost Guard A: "We're arresting them."

Ramshackle Ghosts: "WHAT?!"

Grim: "Fnyaagh! Give them back!! Kid! Yuu!!!"

• Crewel gave Crowley an earful back at the faculty room, much for Mozus' delight since he also cannot stand your rude behavior. Vargas will miss a capable and athletic student like you but he also felt annoyed by your ignorance. Grim was in the hands of ADeuce since you're not by his side anymore, the feline tried to convince ADeuce that he doesn't miss you and failed. Sam is not that involved in your student life, so he was surprised that a student like you had the audacity to assault a faculty staff. The only times that you and Sam interacted was when you bought candies from his store. He could tell that you're constantly in a bad mood and the other NRC students are not helping that, Sam remembers trying to cheer you up a couple of times by sneaking a few more candies for free, the image of your childish smile still fresh in his mind. He felt bad when he heard from Crewel about your expulsion, but it's for the best.................. That's what they all thought.

• Turns out that the Ebony Carriage sent you back! How or why did it happen? Even the Dark Mirror doesn't know. Crewel, still pissed off, decided to call the police in front of the gates. They took you but the carriage always send you back. Every. Single. Time... Crowley insisted that you must stay since the Ebony Carriage sees potential in you. What even kind of potential is that? You're practically more hostile than Floyd, for seven sakes! After trying and failing to arrest you too many times, Crewel got exhausted and stopped. Grim was happy that you're back and kept bawling that you left him.

Grim: "Fnaa... Fnyaaah! Henchman, you're back! You better buy me tuna cans for leaving me for so long!"

Crowley: "Aha! You see, Mr. Crewel? They do have potential to do better, wouldn't you say? The Ebony Carriage escorting them back is proof of that."

Crewel: "Potential to be what? A serial killer?"

Crowley: "No! I mean- the potential to be a student here in NRC. I am certainly sure that if you give them a second chance they won't do it again. Right, Kid! Yuu?"

Kid! Yuu: *nods yes*

Crowley: "Aaand... because of how generous I am, I will overlook your criminal record in your file for as long as they behave!"

Crewel: "They act like that once more, Crowley, and I will file a lawsuit against you."

Crowley: "Why don't we make a wager? If Kid! Yuu behaves for more than 6 months, they'll stay. If they cannot do that, then you can expel them and hand them over to the police."

Sam: "Hey Vargas, why don't we make a bet of our own?"

Vargas: "Hmm...Depends. Who are you betting on?"

Sam: "I'll bet that Kid! Yuu lasts here for 7 months, you'll help me lift the crates at the shop for a week?"

Vargas: "Then I'll bet that Kid! Yuu lasts for 4 months, you'll give me a sack of protein powder for free?"

Sam: "You're on."

Trein: "sigh...Idiots."

Crewel: "... Alright, fine. Have it YOUR way, but I will not be sparing you from learning discipline from me. You will be fixing my office and clean it. Why in Twisted Wonderland did even you attack me in the first place?"

Kid! Yuu: "...cuz... I don't want any more of my stuff...to get confiscated by you..."

Crewel: "......... Seriously? All this damage for a phone?! Pup, can't you see that violence only makes things worse?"

Kid! Yuu: ".... I'm sorry...for... y'know..."

Crewel: "Hm? Speak clearly!"

Kid! Yuu: "...I'm sorry... About the damage to your office... And I'm sorry about trying to kill you... I'm sorry."

Crewel: "Good. Now pick up those cleaning materials and get to work!"

• So in the end, you atoned for the shitty things you did. Crewel made you promise that you won't fight with other students, especially Savanaclaw students. You started to use honorifics toward your elders too, Trein was pleased. Due to Crewel's training of manners and Trein's training of etiquette, you became more of a decent student, albeit, still a little murderous. Sam was happy to see you shopping in his shop again.

• However, the staff can tell that you've developed a habit of being... difficult sometimes. The training and extra lessons didn't make your sociopathic tendencies go down but it appears less now. Crewel has learned that Vargas' reflex lessons helped to avoid stationery projectiles you throw once in a while during his class. You mostly do that in an act of showing frustration from the multiple tasks he's given the class.

{Alchemy Classroom}

Crewel: "This 17th century potion was brewed by the Graystone family and was usually used to increase their children's appetite so that their intake of food will be normal and they'll become healthy in later years... So for today's assignment, I'll be grouping the students in this class into 4 and each group must have a presentation according to the steps of brewing the exact potion. The deadline is due tomorrow on 5:00pm--"

!!!!!

Ace: "W-WHAT THE-- Who threw a ruler at the professor?!"

Deuce: "Th-they almost stabbed the back of his head!"

• The class was startled by the sound of something sharp being thrown and dug into the blackboard just a few inches beside Crewel's head. The man only tilted his head a bit before the ruler could get even a strand of his hair (all thanks to Coach Vargas). Crewel calmly turned around with a stern expression and glared at your direction.

Crewel: "No, pup. I will not extend the deadline.

Kid! Yuu, raising a pencil: "......"

Crewel: "And no, your empty threats will not force me to group you with Spade and Trappola. Now go to your group!"

Kid! Yuu, drops the pencil: *grumbles*

• The students fell silent as you grumbled back into your seat. Half of the students assumed that you have gotten violent enough to no longer make Crewel panic but made him rather annoyed by it. Ace and Deuce sat beside you, the ginger-haired boy grabbed you by the shoulders and shook you while the Blue-haired boy rambled on and on about how dangerous your stunt was.

Ace: "What the hell, Kid! Yuu?! I can't tell if that was horrific or badass but don't EVER do that again! The Savanaclaw students are bad enough, seriously, does your stupidity know no bounds?!"

Deuce: "You should be ashamed of yourself. W-what if your parents will be disappointed? I know you're a little younger than us but we're still classmates. We can't meet you if you go to jail! Who will feed Grim?!"

Ace: "Yeah! We really don't wanna deal with him again!"

Grim: "HEY, I'M RIGHT HERE!"

Crewel: "SILENCE, PUPS! MINIMIZE YOUR VOICES!"

• You drowned out their voices by doodling lines on your paper since your phone was still confiscated. You just nodded to their ramblings and contemplated on not doing it again for your sake. That said, you think you'll stop by Sam's to buy Grim tuna.

• Also, Sam won the bet.

[steviebbboi]

Napoleon solo cream pie professor trope please thanks

Hello again nonnie! Hope you enjoy the second drabble for our lovely Napoleon <3 Thank you again for participating in my 200 Follower Writing Challenge it means the world! Now, on to the show 'class'!

Pairing: FakeProfessor!Napoleon Solo x Student!Reader

W/C: 1.9k

Prompt(s): Professor AU, creampie

*Napoleon is undercover! Peep the alias name 👀

*also included/TW: MINORS DNI; THIS IS 18+, p in v sex, assumed foreplay, forbidden aspect to relationship, inappropriate relationship between professor/student, reader is in her early 20's, napoleon is undercover/fake identity.

This took a different, and more romantic, turn than I thought that it would lol. Some intense/serious fluff goin' on btwn these two, and tbh, I'm kinda here for it.

One Foot Forward

A muted voice could be heard as you crept closer to Professor Walker’s office. You frowned as the voice became louder in tone, it sounded like he was scolding someone.

“Listen, Peril. It’s not long now that I’ll have what we came for. I’d appreciate a little faith if you could find that in you somewhere in that body of yours.” 

“Peril? Who could that be?” You thought with a frown. You couldn’t hear the response of the person on the other line but you figured they must be a real heap for the professor to respond in such a way.

Instantly feeling guilty, you straightened up and knocked on the door twice and called out, “Professor Walker? Are you busy?”

You heard him hastily rush a goodbye and heard a casual “come in.” Hearing the permission, you entered the room and immediately flushed at the first sight of him sitting at his desk.

Professor August Walker. He’s a real looker for a college professor. When you decided to take Linguistics 101, you definitely didn’t expect for the Professor to be such a distraction. Once news got around campus about the new hot professor who spoke different tongues of what appeals to a woman’s heart, it seemed like only female students came to take the course. 

You really tried to not embarrass yourself like the other girls were (you could hear half of them giggle and swoon in every class), but he was just so handsome. A strong chin defined his angular face, his features cunningly charming enough where a small smirk looked like his natural resting expression. The man didn’t have a fleck nor did he have a blemish on his smooth and cut jawline. A true tall, dark and handsome kinda guy. 

You never questioned his teaching methods, nor did you question his style (even if he would wink at some of the swooning girls or when he would be naturally flirty with some of them if they asked a question). Was it inappropriate? Absolutely. But instead of feeling indignant about it actually happening, you were more upset with the fact that he gave you a D- on the last quiz. 

You were just slightly bitter that his attention was on the other students. They were throwing themselves onto him, sure, but you? You never dared to cross that line, even if he went there first (whether it was a wink or a cunning smile that would make the other girls become frantic). Every flirty attempt, you flushed and brushed it off because you were trying to be a good student. 

You were majoring in linguistics to travel abroad and took him, and his class seriously – overlooked all of these immature discrepancies. So, here you were, actually trying, and he gave you a D-?! 

That’s why you decided to go to his office hours to seriously ask him what he was thinking with this grade. Looking the test over, you could see that the answers that were marked incorrectly were actually right. Unsure of his intentions surrounding the marking of his grades, you decided to find out exactly what his problem was. 

You explained your plight to the professor now as you sat across his desk. You tried to gauge the facial expressions that he was giving you, an eyebrow quirk here, a twitch of a smirk there. Confusion bloomed as a headache as you watched his reactive ‘non-reactions’.

After he lets out a lasting hum of what sounded like curiosity, you couldn’t hold back your scoff. 

Now, that, he had an actual reaction towards.

“Is there another problem, Miss…?” Professor Walker pondered with his perfectly plucked eyebrow raised again.

A pause filled the space for a brief moment as you realized that he forgot your name. You exclaimed your name at him with wide eyes filled with an outraged disbelief. You couldn’t hold back the following words, “What kind of a professor are you?! First, you marked my correct answers wrongfully. Second, you forget one of your students’ names! I understand that you may be taken aback that you have a student who finally doesn’t swoon over your every breath, but that doesn’t mean that you get to treat me this unfairly!” 

You sat back in your chair in a huff as you tried to desperately catch your breath. His silence was palpable as he just sat there with his hands crossed on the desk. As the wind in your breath came back to you, you felt yourself flush again but this time, in embarrassment and shame. 

You just yelled at your professor– you definitely were going to fail the class now. 

Your eyes gravitated towards the cracked tile on the floor as you panicked on what to say, how to apologize for your outburst. But then he said your name so softly that it made you raise your head with regret.

“You’re right. I did mark your answers incorrectly and I do notice that you don’t swoon over me like the other students in class. I have treated you unfairly, and I’m sorry.” He said, his tone casually filled with a mystery of elusiveness despite the explicitness of his words.

“But I didn’t, in fact, forget your name.” 

You squinted over at him suspiciously, any traces of shame or guilt gone from your chest. “Then, what happened just now?”

He cleared his throat as he looked down at his paper covered wooden desk before getting up from his desk chair to straighten his pristine and pressed suit. His veiny hands, that looked uncharacteristically calloused for a professor, were tucked into his trousers in a way that made him look even more charmingly intimidating. He leaned on the desk in front of you now, the proximity of his position allowed you to inhale the intoxicating scent of his cologne. 

“I attempted to cover up my ridiculous cover since I know that I’d never be able to see you again after this.” He responded derisively, almost to himself.

Your brows furrowed in confusion as you tried to dissect the meaning behind his words, only coming up empty handed. Your breath stilted suddenly and the confusion melted into a shy desire as he reached out to tuck a wayward hair behind your ear.

“Tried to make it seem like I didn’t know you, to tempt me less,” he continued as he caressed your cheek. He abruptly chuckled, “but you scolding me, losing your temper, that lovely flush on that radiant complexion drives me crazy.” 

His gaze and touch titled down your neck sensually. In an unconscious daze just at his touch, your head moved with his touch to give him access to your supple and exposed skin. It was only a hint of skin showing between the strap of your dress and your cardigan, but as he stroked it, it felt so forbidden and daring. 

Before you realized, his face was leaning into yours. Any thoughts about what was happening completely escaped you as his lips touched yours. All you could think was that his lips were so soft. You whimpered into his mouth as his tongue expertly caressed yours languidly. 

Next thing you knew, he was carrying you over to the loveseat by the window and you were moaning on top of him with him already inside you. His lips were kissing and sucking along the same spots that his fingers innocently traced earlier in a manner that was far from innocent, but still so devoting. 

Napoleon Solo was a doting lover. Your pleasure was his pleasure. Usually, he’d take his time. But with you, he was more feral. Greedy. Because he knew that if he couldn’t have you, then he’d ruin you.

Your moans started to echo in the small office space as he started grinding into you as you bounced on his cock, which prompted Napoleon to brush a rough hand over your swollen lips to reluctantly muffle your sounds of pleasure. 

“Shhh, be good for me, my little secret.” He muttered into your ear with his own strained groans escaping his lips. His eyes rolled back as he allowed you to grind down on him even deeper as he relaxed his body on the back of the couch. Taking control was his usual forte, naturally. Even sometimes, a role. But with you, in this moment, he didn’t have to be. 

He would allow himself this one luxury of authenticity as everything else in his life was a well-told lie. 

“Professor, please.” You whined against his palm and licked it in wanton desperation. You clenched tighter around his girthy cock and he grunted into your neck as the sensation. 

“Fuck, gripping me so tight. You’re my good little student, aren’t you?” He moaned against your ear once more as he nipped at your earlobe seductively. The hand that wasn’t groping at your curvaceous hips stroked along your skin and in between your tightly-pressed bodies to circle your swollen clit.

“Yes, I’ll be a good student for you, Professor! Please let me cum, please!” You gasped into his mouth as he pulled you in for another forbidden kiss. He started to thrust into you wildly at hearing the eagerness in your voice, his caresses on your bundle of nerves rubbing faster.

You cried out your ecstasy as you felt that knot in your tummy unravel so deliciously. The combination of his grunts in your ear, your clit being stimulated as he drove his fat cock into your wet pussy was just too much to comprehend at once. You couldn’t believe a man as beautiful as he would even want you, would desire you. The way that you were the one to unravel him beyond what others perceived. It was the danger of getting caught that finally drove you to the edge.

Cumming around his cock that was still driving into you deep and slow, your whole body intensely shook as your orgasm seemed to last long enough for Napoleon to loudly groan out his own release against your open lips. 

The feeling of your Professor’s cock throbbing out his spend inside of you felt oddly filling, you bit your lip at the pleasure-filled sensation. Napoleon felt your pussy clench around him one more time and he captured your bottom lip into his own nip as he licked into your panting mouth. The taste of you was too intoxicating, and he wanted this moment to last. 

You left his office with a kiss filled with longing and a promise to see him at the next class. But he didn’t show up for the next class. He was out sick, the office reported. You waited anxiously, no other way to contact him. By the following week though, they replaced him with a new professor. 

You had no idea that that would be the last of your romance with the spy. Never found out the reasons behind his words or his sudden departure. You ended up graduating with your degree and traveling the world. 

The spy never forgot about you though as he fulfilled his mission. Never forgot how captivated he was by you. He glanced over his newspaper at you as you sat at the little cafe overlooking the Seine. Seeing you so confident and flitting about Paris filled him with an unconscious delight. 

The passion filled experience in his fake office shined over his mind once more as he placed one foot forward towards you.

A/N: Hope you enjoyed reading this weird-subtle angst Napoleon. I know his character in the movie is depicted to be quite mischievous and daring, but I thought it would be a cool spin to the inner conflicts that a spy would probs feel under the mask.

Tag(s) List: @inlovewiththefictionalcharacters @mercurial-chuckles @caplanbuckybarnes

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[iguana-eyanna]

Hey I was wondering if you do requests? If you do could you do a Gil x reader where she’s Betty’s tutor in science and he swears he’s never seen her (but they go to the same school) and he is so smitten. Also some sibling antics between the Rizzo siblings like in the show haha! I also LOVE your writing!

Omg yes!!! Love this concept. Here’s a little one shot I thought of.

T🪽Birds request: Meeting… Again (Gil)

"Ma! I got the groceries!" Gil said out loud as he kicked his boots off at the doorway.

Gil's mom comes at the door, smiling at her eldest as he came to pick up groceries for their family.

"Gil, I told you i'd get them after Betty's tutor session is done." she lightly scolded him as she gave him a kiss on the cheek.

"Nah, it's not a problem. I dropped the guys off and had some time on my plate. Where is dear sister of mine?"

He asks, wanting to make fun of Betty as she failed her last science quiz at school.

"She's in the kitchen with her tutor. Don't interrupt, please." She said before making her way in their house. Once gone, Gil runs for the kitchen and starts his antics.

He was about to announce his presence till he saw you and Betty sitting at the table while you were pointing at the book.

"-and that's how you use the scientific method." You said, dropping your pencil as you pointed out the page with it.

Betty brightened up as she looks back at you.

"It's so easy to understand now! When Mr. Winslow explains it, my brain turns to mush."

"Yeah, I had Mr. Winslow when I was your grade. I thought he was from the planet Mars." You joke as both of you laugh.

"You had him too?" Gil asked out loud.

You and Betty look at him as you didn't realize he was in the room.

"Get away, Gil. I'm trying to study." Betty said sharply.

"Hey, I'm not the one failing science right now. I'm just trying to get to know this beautiful and smart lady in front of me who unfortunately had to take that old man's class." Gil said, offering his hand towards you.

You lightly scoff as you look at Gil.

"Well, we both took his class together at Betty's grade. Or have you forgotten that we've been going to the same schools since junior high?" You ask, slightly teasing him.

Gil's face falls and his sister tries to silence her giggles. One thing about you is that you're not afraid to say what's on your mind.

He thought that was so cool.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to offend." He said, trying to chuckle it off as he straightened up.

Your features become softer as you give him a sympathetic look.

"It's alright. We're not really in the same classes now. I don't usually stand out for fun people like you, Gil." You said, making him feel more at ease.

Gil pretended to ponder, a playful smirk dancing on his lips. "Hmm, maybe I just have a selective memory. But I'm definitely not forgetting you anytime soon."

You two silently stare at each other, smiling until Betty interrupted, waving her arm to grab your attention.

"Hello? I didn't realize this tutor session turned into a date." She slightly yells out loud.

You and Gil break out of your trance as you cough in embarrassment.

"Sorry. Let's focus on chapter 5." You said, staring down at the book. Gil waves a small goodbye as he leaves you both alone and heads to his room, not knowing you were looking at him leave.

He slumps on his bed and looks up at the ceiling, sighing contently as all he could do was think of your smile.

That’s when he realized you got him twirled around his finger.

And he’s more than okay with that.

[keresnotceres]

MW2 CHARACTERS: School AU

[sfw] cw(s): none !!! As a girlie who has been reading fanfiction for god knows how long, it was inevitable that I came through with a High/Secondary School AU. As a reminder, I don’t know shit abt the British school system so we’re going with my experiences with the American public school system. enjoy dovies <3

Ghost is that one upperclassman in every single one of your co-grade classes that just sits there. He doesn’t say a damn word and you don’t even see him writing down any notes, but somehow, he has the best grades in the whole fucking school. Principal’s honor roll, scholarship recognization galore.

It takes so long for you to work up the courage to talk to him and ask him for help on an assignment and when he admits he doesn’t know they had an assignment to do, you’re a bit dumbfounded. You realize that he quite literally just sits there and vibes the entire time. He proceeds to turn back to the window and stare out of it.

Eventually he warms up to you, though. It takes, like, three months of pestering him until he actively begins conversations with you and you find yourself with a very stoic cheat sheet. He has kept all of his tests and is perfectly fine with just giving you them bc what are morals???

Gaz is the local “i know him but we aren’t friends” kid. Literally everybody knows his name, he’s on the school’s soccer (football, i guess) team and is relatively well known as a nice person, but he only has a few close friends. His grades are also insanely high, you don’t understand how he manages to ace every test while also spending most of his time practicing sports.

He’s the type of person to forget a pencil, however, and usually ends up leaning over to whoever is next to him and asking for one. He usually gives it back, unless it’s someone he doesn’t particularly like. When he tries to give it back to you and you just tell him to keep it, he likes you automatically.

He’s always inviting you to watch his games after the two of you get closer. He also sits with you during shared study halls or lunches regardless of if you or he has other friends in the lunch. Gaz is also the type of person to lean over and ask if you wanna share the copy of an assignment document or swap essays to proofread.

Soap is absolutely the really loud jock kid that people either really like or really hate, and there’s just no in-between (i’m so sorry Foap 😭). Despite this, he’s actually one of those really nice sport boys that will start punching if someone disrespects his friends. He’s also in an abundance of art classes.

In class you can see him scribbling down notes until he gets bored and starts just doodling in his notebook, tuning out the lecture. However, if your science teacher decides today is not a teaching day and puts on something like Bill Nye or The Magic School Bus, he is enraptured. Is also the person to quietly chant “Bill! Bill! Bill! Bill!” during the theme song. Used to hate the Amoeba Sisters until he binged their videos before his Biology final lol.

You start being friends with him on complete accident after you help him with a question on a pop quiz. He gave you puppy eyes! How could you refuse! He proceeds to talk to you the next day like the two of you are best friends and you are now stuck with him until graduation. But hey! You basically have a bodyguard now.

Price is an Honors English and AP Literature teacher through and through. He originally wanted to be a history teacher, but the English position was open and he took it with little complaint. He’s absolutely the teacher you can launch into tangents for the entire class and will take half a point off of your essays for misusing a comma.

If you're his favorite student, he tends to grade your FRQs and other assignments much harsher than he would others, but it ends with you having well rounded essay skills afterwards and acing your assignments later in the year. Will let you hang out in his room during your study halls and is always open to helping you on assignments if you ask.

Hangs thank you notes from students on his walls, has a wild collection of them and shows them off any time another teacher asks him about them. Has cried reading some from students he liked having in his classes.

Laswell is a Geometry, Pre-Calculus, and Calculus professor. Idc what u think she is absolutely a math teacher and would absolutely have a doctorate. People who don't like math probably go into her class also not liking her, but come out at the end of the year wanting to be in her class next year.

If you're one of her favorite students, she absolutely gives you little notes on your graded tests like 'good job :)' and always says she's proud of you if your grades improve during the year. She also lets you and your friends eat lunch in her room because she understands why you'd rather be in a math room than the cafeteria.

Has never been seen without a coffee during the first four periods of the day and a random beverage during the last three. She always has a drink with her and it's become a bit of a game between a few of her students. Sometimes she'll give someone who asks a drink as well. A student she particularly liked tried to pay her to bring them coffee; she gave them their money back and brought them a coffee.

Nikolai is a history teacher that also coaches the school golf team. And yes, golf team; that man radiates golf energy and I cannot be told otherwise. He doesn't understand the kids' obsession with things like Kahoot, but makes them because it keeps kids engaged with the class and mostly keeps grades up.

Being one of Nikolai's favorite students is hard if you don't golf, but if you are a favorite, he tends to give you extensions of assignments if you're struggling to find time/motivation. Also will give you candy under the table if you win a Kahoot, or if you visit him during a study hall he will also give you candy. He gives out Smarties (the American version) because he thinks the name is funny.

If you show interest in learning Russian and ask him how to roll your Rs or how to pronounce the Cyrillic letters, he will automatically like you more than the others. As long as he feels like you're earnestly learning it out of interest and not just to make him like you, that is. If you already know Russian he'll like you anyway. Sometimes it's nice to speak his native tongue.

[happysweetstuff]

ENTRY - 10/30/2024

(tw: sh,ed)

I finally used the gauze bandage I bought and took some from my mom's cabinet. I struggled to remove a makeshift bandage from my wound, using water to help. After cleaning the wounds with soap and water, I wrapped them with gauze and bandages. I wore my PE uniform instead of the proper one since I don’t have a spare. I hid the extra gauze, hoping my mom wouldn’t find it. When she called me for tea, I said I’d be late and explained why I was in my PE uniform.

7:40 a.m

I arrived at school confused by my busy classmates and checked my phone. I saw my advisor's message about wearing the proper uniform, but it was too late for me. I hadn’t checked my phone last night and missed a quiz reminder from my teacher, which panicked me. When the teacher came in and asked if we were ready, I thought, "Hell no!" She said the quiz would be easy, then returned with the test papers.

After taking the quiz, I'm pretty sure all of my answers were wrong, and to make sure, I went to check my notes, and yup, half or maybe even all of my answers were wrong, yay (⁠´⁠ε⁠｀⁠ ⁠) Oh, and there was also another teacher who went inside talking about something I don't remember because I didn't really listen. 

Second period started, and we had to change seats, which I dislike. Our teacher didn’t show up, so I checked my phone for any updates. She mentioned we should continue our performance task, writing a critique letter. Spoiler alert: I hadn’t started because I didn’t know how. I ended up watching TikTok instead. Then we had to change seats again for math in third period.

Our math professor came in and surprised us with a pre-test, which is basically a quiz that won’t affect our grades. I didn’t understand anything, it was all about business stuff that we hadn’t covered. I answered randomly, grateful for the multiple-choice options. We had to check our own papers, which seemed odd. I scored 11/25, which isn’t great, but at least it wasn't a zero. When the professor called out scores, I noticed he missed mine, so I told him. After he recorded my score, he left.

In fourth period, we had science, and since I was absent last week, our teacher gave us a recap on life. I took pictures to take notes later. My classmates were really annoying, asking childish and perverted questions. Just because the lesson was about life doesn’t mean it’s okay to be disrespectful to the teacher. Luckily, our teacher was laid-back and joked back, but if it were a stricter teacher, they’d be in big trouble. I just wish they’d keep those comments to themselves and talk about that stuff with friends, not in class.

Class ended, and while packing my bag, some classmates invited me to get requirements from our old school. I agreed, but we learned only one person needed to go, so I headed home instead. I ate while watching "Noli Me Tangere" on Netflix. I remembered my science teacher claimed that if someone doesn’t eat for over three days, they'll die, but I’ve fasted for four days before. To prove her wrong, I’m considering a longer fast to lose weight and might document it. I’ll keep you updated! ♡⁠(⁠>⁠ ⁠ਊ⁠ ⁠<⁠)⁠♡

I told my mom we’d wear Filipiniana outfits for a school event tomorrow, and she started getting ready. While I was watching a movie, she asked how many bracelets I made, and I initially thought she meant my scars, which surprised me when she touched my bracelets (⁠─⁠.⁠─⁠|⁠|⁠）After she went to get my outfit, I checked my phone and saw the event was canceled and moved to next week. My mom came back looking upset. The rented dress was cute, but I felt big in it after eating ಥ⁠‿⁠ಥ I mentioned the cancellation, and she just said, "Okay."

My mom asked me to bake using the extra bananas we had before they rotted, so I rolled them up with Nutella in sliced bread and put them in the oven since we don’t have a microwave. I prefer the oven because it’s easier to clean. While waiting, I thought about buying tarot cards, though I don’t know much about them. I also checked out cosplays for Otakufest on January 18, 2025, which I’m excited for \⁠(⁠ϋ⁠)⁠/⁠♩ even if it’s still a while away. Once the banana Nutella rolls were done, my mom and I enjoyed them together.

At night, I went upstairs to write down my notes when my mom came in to say that only two baby hamsters were left, we started with six. Confused, I went downstairs and confirmed my mom's words. I suspected the mother hamster had eaten the other four (⁠・⁠o⁠・⁠) Using a plastic spoon, I checked to make sure they weren’t just hiding. I researched what to do and learned I should separate the mother, so I moved her to a different container. I also remembered I had taken some bandages from my mom's cabinet earlier. Thankfully, I finished my notes too.

[syoish-aot]

HOLY SHIT IT'S DONE!!

I was having some intense posting paralysis all morning (I think I reread the last scene like 15x just to make sure it was worded exactly right).

*he terrifying fear when you write something you really love and you're scared no one else will like it as much as you do*

ANYWAY -

Thank you so much to everyone that's been regularly reading slash commenting on I Found You! It was my first time posting fic to tumblr and I had a lot of fun doing it!

I always have SO MANY ideas for fics, but I get overwhelmed by the idea of seriously perusing them. A lot of this comes from the fear that no one will read them and I'll have spent all of my time writing for absolutely nothing. BUT I've been trying to humble myself lately and recognize the joy in the writing process itself and the satisfaction of getting my ideas fully fleshed out on paper aka google docs regardless of the attention they get.

Despite that, anyone who writes fic understands how shitty it feels when you work for DAYS on something and get crickets in the comments. It sucks. And that's sort of how I've been feeling with my fics on Ao3 lately- which kicks my motivation right in the ass.

In writing I Found You, I think I got some of that motivation back. Not JUST because I was getting regular commenters (again, thank you so much) but also because I was able to slip fully into my self indulgence and finally write out one of the verses that's been existing in my mind palace for MONTHS!

So, all of this rambling is to say this -

I really liked sharing this story with you guys on tumblr, and I'm for sure going to be doing more of this style in the future.

I'll be posting I Found You to Ao3 as well, but I want to edit it a bit (and possibly add a few more scenes) before doing that.

Basically the version I posted here is more of a rough draft, and then the final version will be the one on Ao3.

If you like my writing, consider checking out my Reader/Eren long fic "Ten Seconds" (100k, complete on Ao3) or the post-canon Jean/OC fic I'm working on "The Letters She Wrote"

If you read all of this, then here's your reward - a sneak peak at the VERY LONG isekai/time travel fic that I'm going to be working on next...

Chapter 1 - "You, 2000 years in the future"

Shiganshina High - 2024

You’d taken Ancient History as an elective to fill your schedule because no other class fit in the period. 

Also to piss off your dad about not taking AP calculus.

(But mostly it was the schedule thing.)

It wasn’t that you disliked Ancient History, you just found it painfully boring and mind numbing. It was the class right after lunch and every assignment was another boring paper that sounded the exact same over and over and over again.

(Although it did leave you wondering how many times you could start a paper with “the oxford dictionary defines discovery as…” before Mr. Arlert, the ancient old man who taught the class, caught on.)

Thankfully, you didn’t have to put too much effort into the class to get a good grade and because of that the class was an easy A that you could use to maintain your honor roll. Mr. Arlert was retiring at the end of the year, so he was pretty much entirely checked out. You had a feeling he didn’t actually read any of your papers and gave your grades out based on how well he assumed you did the assignment. Which, again, meant you got an A on every one. So Mr. Arlert had a habit of putting on documentaries instead of actually teaching anything. 

And you weren’t about to complain about that.

Armin was sitting next to you furiously taking notes on the documentary that Mr. Arlert, his grandpa and teacher, had put on. You understood his struggle to impress his grandpa in the class he taught on a personal level. You used to be like that when it came to math, but now you normally felt yourself doing the opposite. “The opposite”, meaning:

Not taking AP calculus.

Writing the wrong answer on a quiz, even after doing the work to prove the correct one.

Asking pointless questions in class just to see him get that constipated I-can’t-treat-you-like-my-daughter-right-now-because-you’re-my-student-but-god-do-I-wish-I-could-ground-you look.

You smiled at the memory, feeling quite pleased with yourself, until the monotone voice of the documentary playing at the front of the class pulled  you back into the present:

“The ancient people of Paradis elected large walls, presumably to protect themselves from invaders during this time.” You looked back at the projector. There was a poorly done animation of what historians suspect the three large walls may have looked like, back when they still stood almost 2000 years ago. 

The documentary, just like every documentary Mr. Arlert put on, seemed pretty pointless to show to a class of eleventh graders who were already very aware of the mysterious history of Paradis. 

You’d all grown up here and had been taught about this stuff since grade school. Paradis was a major hub for ancient history. There were dozens of museums throughout the island, all holding different ancient artifacts and pieces of your country’s history. Pieces that’s functions had been lost to time, leaving archeologists only able to guess the true history of your people and what these items were for.

“...purpose of them is still unknown, some archaeologists theorize they were used for early agriculture, although others argue they may have been used for religious reasons…”

On the screen was one of the most mysterious relics of ancient Paradis. Two metal cylinders, attached to some sort of strap. Normally, they were found with a large box of metal that was meant to hold something, along with canisters of unknown contents. The were rare, but a few dozen of them had been uncovered in the last hundred years and have only continued to add to the mystery of ancient Paradis. 

Of course, you were curious what their origins may be too, but not curious enough to look into it further than this class and the occasional trip you make to the Paradis Museum. 

“...these large man-eating monsters were an important part of Paradis folklore, some argue they were likely worshiped as go-”

The bell rang, finally saving you from your mind numbing documentary focused torture.

“Ah!” Mr. Arlert jerked awake at his desk. “Yes, well- I hope you all learned something important today!” He quickly said as he stood. “Don’t forget, your final papers are due on Monday morning. Despite it, I hope you’re able to enjoy your weekend!”

You hoped so too.

God, did you hope so...

[scarletttries]

Candy Cane Kisses (Eddie Munson One Shot)

Pairing: Eddie Munson (Stranger Things) x F! Reader

Rating: Explicit Smut

Word Count: 3.6k

Author's Note: My little Christmas offering of fluffy smut for all the Eddie fans keeping up with my series, but wishing I would write some smut for him too! <3 Thank you for all the support on all my Eddie posts, and feel free to send in new requests any time! (heart) Also I couldn't possibly write a fic about Eddie leaving the reader a note and not recommend everyone go check out the amazing and adorable notes by Eddie and Bird (@eddieandbird) this is definitely inspired by some of their great work :)

Candy Cane Kisses (part of my Christmas List)

"And I heard on the radio on the way to school this morning, it's supposed to snow on Christmas day!" Lucas practically buzzed with excitement talking through his Christmas plans, finally in the last week of school before the Christmas break.

"It never snows in Hawkins." Eddie quickly shot down, focus not shifting from the scrappy piece of paper he clutched in his lap, scratching out line after carefully worded line, unsatisfied with every letter he scrawled messily on the page.

"Who pissed in your eggnog?" Mike snapped at him, leaning across the table to try and see what had his dungeon master so fixated.

"(Y/n)" Dustin sighed, feigning infatuation to the amusement of the others.

"He wishes." Gareth added, another round of raucous laughter sweeping across the table and finally lifting Eddie's eyes from his lap,

"That doesn't even make sense." He rolled his eyes at the smug looks around the table at his attempted protests, before getting entirely distracted by the small group of students walking by the table, in the centre of which floated you. You who made Eddie's stomach feel like he'd only eaten sugar for a week, but in a way he didn't mind. You who could make him feel at home for the length of a class in a town that otherwise despised him. You who looked up and gave him a smile as your group swanned past, his heart fluttering in his chest as he returned the gesture with the smallest wave, setting off the chorus of laughter from his group again. Eddie had it bad.

"So you're sending them a candy cane right?" Dustin probed, much to Eddie's annoyance.

"I don't know, stay out of it Henderson." Eddie retorted, sighing in defeat as he scrunched up the piece of paper in his lap to a fist sized ball, "I wouldn't even know what to say."

"Dude, the first day we had Hellfire after you sat next to (y/n) you opened with 'Fellas, I'm in love.' Maybe just try that?" Lucas offered helpfully, his optimism and honestly slightly overshadowed by Mike's sarcasm,

"Only if you want to scare them off, play it cool, keep it short. How about 'you're probably the only reason I'm getting a B in Biology'." He advised confidently, making Eddie wonder how he'd ended up taking romantic advice from freshman, and how they all actually had girlfriends.

"Just be honest okay, whatever that means." Dustin concluded, leaving Eddie back where he started, pulling out a fresh piece of paper and desperately trying to find the words he'd spent months hoping to say to your face.

---

It was the end of the final period, on the last day of school before the holidays, and everyone watched the clock anxiously, desperate to run outside to see if any candy canes had been left stuck to their lockers.

"That's the reading you need to do over the next two weeks, and before you ask, yes there will be a quiz on it. Have a great break everyone, you are dismissed." Your teacher droned out in a single monotone sentence, not bothering to muster a smile as students poured out of her door with their well-wishes. You let most of the crowd rush ahead, confident your locker would be stood undecorated, focused solely on keeping up with your friends and your grades now that you were in your senior year. You almost didn't bother to check before you headed off for the break, but one small spark of hope made you walk the length of the hallway just in case. And to your surprise there a single candy cane sat, fixed to your locker handle with a curl of red ribbon, a physical token of affection from someone in your life.

You paused for a moment before you dared to read it, revelling in the moment of possibility; any number of friends might have just sent it as a festive gesture and nothing more, but that didn't stop your heart beating a little faster as you finally flicked open the little card,

"Hey sweetheart, I just wanted you to know that you're kind of my favourite person. And i'm going to miss you over Christmas break. I hope that's okay. Love, Eddie (Munson) (from Biology)"

You wanted to laugh at his detailed signature, but what caught your eye most was the little underline he'd scrawled under 'love'. Like he'd chosen to sign his card like that intentionally, more than just a throw away greeting. You let out a small chuckle to yourself as you walked away from your locker, feeling the corners of your mouth lift up into a smile, glad you didn't have anything planned for that afternoon.

---

Eddie had skipped final period in its entirety, a black hole opening up inside his stomach at the thought you reading his far-from-perfect note, sucking up any optimism he'd had for the gesture. He sat on the edge of his bed, growing more and more frustrated at his inability to play along to even a simple song on his guitar, mind entirely clouded in thick, dark fog - until two headlights pulling up outside seemed to cut right through the haze.

You'd never been to Eddie's trailer before, and on the drive over you started to wonder why. You and Eddie only really saw each other at school, occasionally seeing each other on the weekends in a wider group of friends, Eddie always taking the opportunity to find the seat next to you, willing himself to ask you to slip away, and soaking up every second he got to spend in your company. You'd never really had a moment alone together, not without a crowd of students or friends spread out around you, and that realisation gave this whole situation a atmosphere of anticipation as you knocked on the trailer door, Eddie opening it almost as soon as your knuckles made contact, unable to make himself wait a moment longer to see you.

"Hi Eddie, can I come in?" Your voice had a slight nervous shake to it as you spoke, the air in the room feeling a little thin as he opened the door with a nod, pointing down to the small corridor to his bedroom. Staring at the walls covered in dark posters, and metal covers, and occult imagery you couldn't help but smile at just how 'Eddie' his room was, wishing you had been invited in sooner and feeling like you got to know him a little better just by being here. Eddie immediately returned to the same spot on his bed, hunching over slightly in self-preservation as you took small steps, exploring the space.

"Good last day?" Eddie questioned, like small talk could keep him from having to explain himself to you, or experience whatever disappointing conclusion his infatuation with you was about to reach.

"Yeah it was. I got a candy cane." You said softly, pulling the little card from Eddie out of your pocket. Eddie didn't look up from his lap, knowing exactly why you were here in his mind, and bracing himself to spend the rest of the school year skipping biology. "Did you really mean what you wrote?"

He nodded his head softly, taking a deep breath before he dared to speak, desperate to hold himself together at least until you left, "Being your friend has made this year a lot better than the last few, and I love it, but honestly I want to be more than that. And I wanted you to know." He stared down at his hands, twisting a skull shaped ring over and over, as if not looking at you would keep him safe from whatever you were about to say. You walked around to stand just in front of him, the feel of your soft hands taking his enough to pull his focus up towards you, brown eyes glistening as they stared up at you hopelessly.

You moved slowly, first separating his interlocked hands, then bringing each of them purposefully to your waist. He didn't smile as your left his hands there, settling yours around his neck as you gradually sank down to straddle his lap, Eddie's grip tightening slightly as you settled onto his thighs. Brushing a strand of his thick hair away from his cheek bone, you smiled and whispered,

"Thanks for the candy cane." Before leaning in, slowly, carefully until the warmth of his lips melted the coldness on yours. You only held it for a second, testing the waters, Eddie's expression still unreadable as you watched the gears in his head turning. And then he was back on you, diving forward to feel your lips, encompassing you in his arms as he kissed you like the soft peppermint taste of you might be the only thing he ever wanted to experience again. You smiled as you let your fingers run through the hair at the nape of his neck, feeling him let out a blissful hum that only parted his lips further, letting him make more hungry swallows of your lips, your head swimming with the obvious devotion in the way he chased your kiss. You pulled him back slightly to get a better look at his face, finally beginning to grow a smile that his romantic gesture had paid off, and that he now knew your lips were even sweeter than he'd been picturing.

"I'm really glad we're going to just protect our friendship." You said matter-of-factly, watching Eddie's face fall back into despair before you erupted into laugh, a matching grin returning to his face as he poked you in the side for your mischief.

"Oh that was cruel! You can't mess with a guy while you're on his lap!" He bellowed through his laughter, lips planting a constellation of kisses across your face, drawn to you now they had the option to be.

"I'm sorry, I'll be sure to get off your lap before I laugh at you next time." You teased, happy the dramatic tension in the air had shifted to the kind of laid back joking you loved about Eddie.

"Don't you dare" He rebuffed, squeezing you tightly against his chest to make sure you weren't going to leave his lap for any reason. As his grip shifted you higher on his thighs you could feel yourself brush over his crotch, a growing bulge starting to strain against the denim of his jeans. You rocked your hips again, capturing the involuntary moan from Eddie with a kiss, the vibrations from it running all the way down your spine. Eddie wasn't sure whether to apologise profusely or pretend he wasn't hard between your thighs, wishing he had just an ounce of self-control when it came to you. And then you rocked your hips against him again, intentional in your movements, devilish smile on your face as he broke the kiss to hold in a moan, and Eddie knew he was a goner.

One hand trailing down to your ass to support you, Eddie shifted himself backwards on the bed until he could lay on a pillow, keeping your chest pressed against his as he moved. His breath stilled in his lungs as he felt your weight shifting on top of him, the brushes over his jeans only that much more intense at this angle, his eyes clenching shut as he forced himself to take a deep breath.

"We can stop Eddie?" You reassured, a little concerned as he struggled to reopen his eyes to respond.

"I really don't want to stop! I'm just, uh, really not used to having a pretty girl on my bed. Or on my lap. So I'm just very excited." You smiled at his honesty and the slightly pained grin on his face as he looked up at you, leaning over him with his arms wrapped around you, a best case scenario for today that he wouldn't have even dared to dream about.

"You're very sweet. And I'm very excited too." You flirted, watching Eddie's eyes almost roll back in his head with a sigh at your words, before pulling himself together enough to roll you on to your back, rising up on his knees to undo the button on your jeans.

"You're going to be the death of me sweetheart, I already know it." He laughed, almost to himself, as he eased the denim down your legs, until only your panties remained, a sight Eddie had imagined on his cold, lonely nights more than once.

"Fuck." He sighed out as let his lips began to mark a trail up your leg, kissing and sucking at the sensitive flesh of your inner thighs and drinking every twitch and giggle the action drew from you. As his fingers reached the edge of your underwear, everything he wanted now in his reach, he raised his head slightly, solemn look in his eye as he spoke,

"Are you sure you want this? With me?" Your heart practically burst with affection as you stared down at him, full of desire and want and need, for him.

"I want this, and I want you Eddie." The words almost came out in a whine as you felt yourself getting wetter waiting for his touch, the smile on his face as your confirmation the most confident he'd looked since you walked into his room.

"Good girl." Was all he said as he hooked his fingers into your waistband and removed the final bit of fabric in his way. He started slowly, just running a finger softly over your slit, watching your every reaction closely, wanting to take his time to see exactly what you liked. Even these small touches had his finger coated in slick, and you watched him experimentally bring it to his lips, sucking it clean and humming happily as he did.

"I always knew you were sweet inside and out." He praised before burying his head between your thighs, tongue licking broad flat strokes over your centre, tasting every drop of your excitement and starting to draw louder pants and moans from you with every motion. Two of his fingers slipped inside you easily, the cold metal of his rings grazing your clit between licks and making your whole body flinch at the sensation. Eddie chuckled against you at the reaction, only stimulating your sensitive bud more,

"Eddie," you whimpered, "You feel so good." He moaned against you at the praise, free hand shifting your shirt up slightly so his broad palm could rest flat over your stomach, holding you in place and feeling you tense and shake as he worked.

"You're so good to me sweetheart, letting me taste you like this. Letting me hear you say my name like this is one of my wet dreams. Now whenever I wear my rings I'm just going to be thinking about how much you like them here." As if it prove his point he brought the cold metal to brush over your clit, soft strokes in time with plunging fingers, your thighs clenching around his head involuntary at the throbbing feeling growing inside you of,

"Fuck, you're killing me (y/n)." He groaned again at the movement, feeling his own hips rock against the bed as yours started to buck against his touch, following his every movement, the pressure tightening in your stomach as his tongue returned to your clit, worshipping every inch of your pussy with his fingers and mouth, holding you against the bed as you started to squirm at all tingly sensation spreading through you.

"Eddie," You cried out again as he curved his fingers to massage a new spot inside you, steady flicks of his tongue bringing you to the edge as he savoured every drop of you he tasted, "I'm gonna-" was all you got out as the tension inside you overflowed into release, your legs shaking around Eddie as he moaned happily against you, maintaining his steady rhythm as he felt the waves of pleasure ripple through your core, even the soft brush of his untamed hair on your inner thighs making you flinch with sensitivity.

You felt your head begin to clear as your rode out your orgasm, placing a hand under Eddie's chin to bring him up for a kiss, watching the slight glee in his eyes as he held his position a little too long, watching you squirm from the overstimulation of his continuous circles on your clit, knowing you were awakening something in him you'd be on the receiving end of for a long time to come.

He wiped his glistening face with the back of his hand as you brought his lips back to yours, feeling himself twitch in excitement at the combination of two new favourite tastes. He only leant up for air as you pulled his shirt over his head, letting your hands trace along each of his tattoos, noticing the slight gasp of breath he took when the tip of your finger brushed lightly over each of his nipples. Even with his whole body pressed to yours, your entrance still sensitive from his touch, you needed to feel more of him. Clearly hoping for the same thing, the second you started to unbutton his jeans, Eddie quickly stood up, kicking them off for you, watching in awe as you pulled off your shirt, and unclasped the bra underneath letting it fall forwards, watching Eddie's hard cock twitch as you discarded it.

"You're so fucking beautiful." Eddie said the words like a prayer, awestruck as he crawled back over your form, lips drawn to your now exposed chest. One hand followed cupping and kneading at the tender curves while his lips grazed over the other nipple, planting gentle kisses and tracing soft shapes with his tongue, sure nothing had ever compared to how good he felt right now.

He had the the exact same thought as your hand snaked between your bodies, taking hold of Eddie's throbbing length and starting firm, smooth strokes, your thumb rubbing the base in a way that made Eddie let out an earth-shattering moan. He was used to the feel of his own hand, supplemented by his vivid imagination, but feeling the touch of yours as his tip dipped into the soft, sticky skin of your thighs had Eddie finding nirvana and swearing allegiance to whichever dark force put you in his life. Losing the ability to do anything but pant and groan as you worked him in your hand, you eased Eddie on to his back bringing a leg over him to straddle his thighs once again. Eddie watched you through lidded eyes, his chest heaving up and down with every touch, his whole body jolting as you ran your tongue over his leaking tip, not sure how much more of this he was going to survive.

"(y/n)" he managed to moan out breathlessly, eyes widening as he watched you line him up between your dripping folds. .

"You still want this Eddie?" You sighed out, making sure to put extra emphasis on his name as you teasingly ran him over your slit.

"Fuck, yes, please, please." He begged, hips trying to buck up beneath you, desperate to feel you wrapped around him. His cock almost ached as you slowly sank down around him, feeling yourself stretched and filled completely by his perfect size. Eddie watched your eyes flutter shut as you took a few gentle bounces, your chest jumping with the rest of you in easily the hottest sight Eddie had ever seen. Needy for more of you, to feel you react to his touch again, Eddie sat himself up, keeping you wrapped around him as he pulled you into his lap.

"Good girl." He cooed as he brought his fingers to your throbbing clit, watching as you started to bounce more eagerly in response to his touch, your sensitivity addictive to Eddie, his mind already racing with all the fun he could have with it, driving you over the edge of pleasure again and again if you'd let him.

"Eddie," you moaned again as his fingers strummed over you, tongue lapping at your nipples as you rocked up and down, every part of you alight at his vigilant touch. He focused on your every noise and tremble, trying to memorise the look on your face as your hips started to stutter again, back arching your chest against his lips as your walls started clench down around him,

"That's my girl, cum for me, that's it." He praised, coaxing the orgasm out of you with frantic thrusts of his hips, making sure you were almost crying with ecstacy before he finally spilled his seed inside you, the feeling of releasing all over your walls something he knew he'd be chasing again and again, wanting to stay deep inside you forever.

You could feel the content smile washing over your face as you collapsed onto Eddie's chest, his back landing on the bed again as his hands worked soft warm circles over your skin.

"That was amazing." You signed out absentmindedly, Eddie humming happily in agreement as he kept you held close, enjoying the perfect moment of bliss before he worked up the nerve to ask you on a real date. He let his gaze fall to your satisfied face, before a glimpse of something shimmering caught his eye out the window - turns out it did snow in Hawkins sometimes.

[my-castles-crumbling]

ok, as someone going into high school and leaving middle school, here's my advice:

-children can easily be bribed with candy and stickers

-if you can, you might want to keep an "everything" drawer with things like snacks, pencils, tampons, pads, flashcards, little bottles of water, etc. (basically anything a student has asked you for in the past). as someone with social anxiety, i do not enjoy going to the office or nurse for things like that.

-be a friend. i'm not saying you should cross boundaries or be overly 'i want to be your friend' aggressive, but let your students know they can talk to you. it was so important to me that i had one of those teachers. i know no student wants to go to the school guidance counselor (or at least not at my school) and kids need someone to talk to about stuff.

-acceptance. i don't think this will be a big problem for you, but let them know that you're accepting of everyone. that you're not going to judge based of skin color, religion, sexual orientation, or anything like that. middle schoolers are some of the most racist and homophobic people i've ever met. it's actually insane and appalling, but they had to learn it form somewhere :(

-rewards. once again, candy is a huge tool. need someone to run and errand? they get candy when they get back. someone wins a class game? candy. someone helps clean up the classroom? candy. i also had a teacher who used 'bonus tickets' as well that could be turned in for an extra 2 points on a worksheet, or an extra 1 point on a quiz or test.

-games!!!!!! if you have computers in the classroom, or have school issued laptops, kahoot, blooket, and quizlet are gonna be your best friends. if you don't have electronics, do vocab bingo, or class jeopardy, or relays, or team pictionary, or really any game. the kids are going to love you for it.

-homework. i don't know what you're school's homework policy is, but remember that your students have other classes too and that each class gives homework. i've had teachers not understand that i had other classes to study and do work for. my geometry teacher in 8th grade would give us a minimum of 1.5 hours of homework each night, and we would never have time to do our other homework or study. again, i don't know what the policy is for homework, but please try to go easy on them. they're under a lot of stress.

-find a balance in sharing. i've had teachers that overshared everything about their life, and i've had teachers who we knew nothing about all year. please try to find a balance. the oversharers were usually super condescending when kids talked to them and nobody ever felt comfortable approaching the mysterious ones.

-DO NOT ask what a slang word means. it's embarrassing for you and the kids, and most of the time, you don't want to know. if it's really eating away at you, look it up when you get home, just don't ask the kids.

-the parents are going to bully you. don't take it personally. as someone who might be a teacher in the future, one of my teachers gave me this advice "never leave because of the parents and never stay because of the kids". the parents might just be the most awful part about teaching but remember that you're not there to debate. you're there to teach.

middle school is a really great age group, and they're so fun and hilarious to be around. i really think you're going to love it :)

Hi!! <3

Thank you so much for all of this, Middle School is definitely going to be different than elementary so I appreciate all the advice, and the time you took to write it.

Good luck in high school! <3

[hyperesthesias]

The Gift of Trust

Notes: Viktor still has a Professor kink apparently. Also this is boring, I apologise. I write like a Bronte sister, that's on me. Also, also: I have an AO3.

Context: Anya is a wealthy prospective donor, who grew up with Viktor in Zaun. She is an alumnus of the Academy and a mage and a theoretical physicist; she gained her wealth by winning the lottery; she is a different, humanoid species. After a violent encounter with the head of Public Relations, Viktor has been put in charge of courting her as a donor, and seeing she is apprised of the Academy's projects that her donation will be funding. This takes place one week after The Favor of Fortune.

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Anya had not walked the halls of the Academy in several years. It still felt the same, smelled the same, and the light still shone through the stained glass in the perfect way at the perfect hours of the day. She had not realized how much she missed it. She had been fortunate enough to attend the Academy on a full scholarship, her parents could never have afforded her tuition on their own. They were poor, meager people from Zaun, who survived selling spell bags and healing tinctures, with a client base that relied solely on word of mouth. Mages were not looked well upon, and she had kept her abilities hidden in the years she had been in Piltover. Especially when she was at the Academy.

The only one who knew about her abilities was Viktor. His mother had brought him to her mother many years ago, when they were small children. Shortly after he contracted polio, Viktor’s mother beseeched her mother for any form of healing she knew – she was willing to give as much money as she had, or barter for any wares she had to offer. Anya’s mother accepted none of it. It would have been dishonorable, her mother said, to take payment to heal another woman’s child. It was a gift to give life and health to a child – regardless if she had birthed them herself. The only thing Anya’s mother asked in return was secrecy.

Anya remembered her mother using magic to help heal Viktor’s illness, she remembered her laying poultices across his back and leg. Anya helped make the paste that went across his skin. She doubted Viktor remembered it, even now. He was ill with a high fever and slept most of the time he was under her mother’s care. When he felt well, after his treatment had run its course, he learned of her presence when she brought him water to drink and food to eat. They were still young children, and yet she had such vivid memories – as if she had been an adult all her life.

She wondered if he felt similarly.

Anya entered a lecture hall as the top of the hour rang throughout the Academy. She slipped inside almost unnoticed, and took an empty seat near the door and away from the students’ attention. 

Viktor stood at the front of the lecture hall, leaning on his cane and reading from a notebook. He had bags under his eyes and his color looked washed and pale. She could tell he had not slept the night before.

“Good morning,” he began. “My name is Viktor. I am assistant to the Dean. I will be instructing this class while your regular Professor is away on maternity leave. You will be given a quiz, so that I can discern where your abilities lie in this class –”

The students made a collective fuss and groan.

He looked at them with a quiet chuckle. “It will not count towards your grade.” As he surveyed his class, his eye caught a woman sitting at the far end of the room, near the door. He took a double look and saw it to be Anya. She had threatened to ‘audit his class’ but he had not believed her to be serious.

She gave him a smile and a nod as they met eyes.

She was beautiful – no longer dressed in her culture’s formal wear, she donned a simple soft pink opaque dress, with sleeves that fell along her arms and left her shoulders bare; its skirt was a thicker fabric, but still airy and gathered at her feet; and its bodice was lined with boning. Her hair still wrapped in a sheer veil, it trailed down her side. He found himself distracted with surprise at her presence, especially when she had not called upon him to meet regarding her donation. He regretted the class was not something more advanced to keep her interest – and he hoped she did not mean to bring him bad news about rescinding her contribution.

“Your quiz will begin momentarily.” He gathered his attentions back to the present and limped to the desk, only two steps away. A large stack of papers rested on the edge of the desk, and he bolstered himself to walk and pass them out to every row in the hall.

“Professor?” Anya called, the hint of teasing under her breath.

He felt a warm thrall at the nape of his neck as she called him. He turned to see her waiting expectantly for his response. “I am not a professor,” he corrected her, hiding a simper.

“What may we call you?” she asked.

He looked at the rest of the class, noting it would be helpful to clarify. “You may simply call me Viktor.” He hoisted the stack of papers into his arm and began to pass them out, starting with Anya.

“Viktor –” she called again and looked up at him as he stood in front of her. “May I help you distribute these?”

He looked at her, relieved, and nodded. “Thank you, Miss Anya.”

“It is my pleasure,” she said and stood to take them.

Anya passed out every paper to every student, and returned to her seat at the far end of the classroom. When the students were finished, she collected them without being asked, and returned them to Viktor’s desk. She aided the student next to her as they struggled to comprehend a concept written on the blackboard; she asked questions that would expound upon what Viktor taught; and when the class was finished she erased the notations on the board so he could start fresh for the next class. 

Viktor sat slumped in his chair, with his head in his hand. 

“I can stay for your other classes,” she spoke in their shared, native language.

“No,” he promptly shook his head. “I cannot ask you to do that.”

“You are not,” she chuckled. “I offered.”

He sighed and looked at her as he propped himself up in the chair. “I am grateful.”

“You did not sleep last night, did you?” she asked.

“No, not at all. I was…” he hesitated and glanced at her, debating whether or not to confide in her. It was Jayce’s proprietary project, and he had not gotten permission to share it with anyone else. Regardless, he knew Anya to be integritous and a confidant. “I was helping a new friend with a project. We were here all night, in Heimerdinger’s lab.”

“Did it turn out well?”

“It did,” he said, uneasily – thinking of the explosion the crystal had caused, it had taken out numerous windows and sent the rest of the laboratory into disarray. Heimerdinger was still upset that his books had been blown off the shelves.

She laughed. “You don’t sound convinced.”

“It will take work. A lot more work,” he said and leaned on the desk to stretch his back. “But it is work I am willing to do. I offered my help to this acquaintance.”

“It sounds like a big project.”

“It has the potential to help people – save lives. That is all I have wanted to do.” He put his face in his palm as he turned to her. He thought of Anya and her mother, the innate magic that ran through their species’ blood. “Do you help others, as your mother did?”

Her brows raised in surprise, she had not expected him to mention their past. “I did. I took my mother’s place as a healer after my parents were killed. Before I got out of Zaun. I have not done it since. After I left Zaun, after I graduated the Academy, I worked in an energy research lab. I left magic behind. I worry about being exposed and imprisoned. I finally have freedom – I don’t want it taken away.”

He took a deep breath and nodded. “You may not have to worry for long,” he said.

She furrowed, uncertain if he meant something sinister. “Why?”

He paused a moment, still debating whether to confide in her. But then, he had a marvellous idea – he would bring her into the project altogether. “The project I am working on involves magic. It has been approved by Heimerdinger and the Council. I believe you could be an asset.”

She shook her head. “I don’t know – I don’t want others to know about me –”

“They wouldn’t have to. You could be a silent partner,” he said and sat up again, more excited at the prospect of working with her. “Your background in theoretical physics and your experience in magic could be what we need.”

She thought, looking away from him and instead to the chalk dust that gathered on the floor beneath the blackboard behind him. She had been offered a job as a Professor in theoretical physics nearly a year ago, right before her fortunes had changed and she won the lottery. Getting her finances in order took precedence and she was never able to accept the position – but she would not have been happy with it, regardless. Anya did not relish the idea of being locked away in some classroom, chained to others who did not appreciate her efforts. 

But Viktor appreciated them. He valued her intellect. He saw her potential.

His offer was enticing, but the fear of her own preservation grappled for her heart.

He saw the worry drawn deep into her features. She was so placid and smooth, to see the lines of fear carved into her was unusual and unnerving. He placed a hand on the desk, towards her – hoping to comfort her. “I will ask my acquaintance if I can consult with someone I know. No one will know. No one ever has.”

She met his eye again and breathed with relief. His mother had kept her promise – and he had inherited it. “Very well,” she agreed. 

The Academy bell chimed the top of the next hour, and Viktor ran his hands down his face as he leaned back in his seat. He was mentally preparing himself for the two other classes he had later that day, though he was grateful he still had some time to rest and grade papers.

“In the meantime,” Anya said, “I can stay the rest of the day to help. You look like you don’t feel well,” she chuckled as he rolled his head and met her with tired eyes. Her warm fingers caressed his chin and she stood to leave. “I’ll get us some coffee.”

He thanked her and watched as she left the hall. There was a canteen not far from the classroom, she would be back in only a few minutes with food and drink. 

It was one of Viktor’s earliest memories of her, of life itself: little Anya kneeling beside him as he lay on a stiff mattress inside a dimly lit room, her having brought him food and drink. The smell inside the room had been overpowering – vegetation and herbs, the stench of water and humidity. His fever had broken and he could finally see straight. Anya was the first thing he saw. She held in her hand a small, round piece of unleavened flatbread, and a glass of warm water sat on the floor beside her. It was bland and stale, but it was the sweetest thing he ever tasted.

He sat there at his desk, waiting on his friend to return, and he wondered, how he could repay her? He asked much of her, even if he did not ask it himself: aid in his classroom, aid on his project, aid for the Academy. She gave freely, and of her own volition. But, still, he felt he had nothing to give her in return.

She wanted for nothing, he had nothing he could teach her, and what small tinkering he had done in his spare time made no dent in the debt he had acquired to her in his life.

By the end of the day, Viktor was nearly slumped over his notebook in the lab, his mind still working on a way to tangibly thank her for her favor.

“You alright?” Jayce asked. 

Viktor sat up and rolled his neck, still thinking of Anya. “I have a contact who I believe has valuable insight to this technology,” he said. “I would like to show them our notes.”

Perplexed, but grateful for Viktor’s connections, Jayce agreed. “Sure. Do you trust them?”

Viktor looked at his partner, and remembered once again the night Anya had brought him food and water when he was a boy. It had been so many years ago, much had changed – and yet the two of them stayed the same. He realized, despite the years they had spent apart, he trusted her implicitly, as he did then. He realized, in the same moment, that she also trusted him. She had told no one else of her fortune, neither had she confided in anyone else of her abilities; the idea that she felt safe with him nestled itself into his heart, and he felt himself moved.

“With my life,” he said. 

Perhaps that was gratitude enough: to be trusted, and to trust. To be her truest and purest friend.

[b0mblover]

Greed makes me sick. 

By: J

Woo fucking hoo, gotta love projection! (this was 100% self indulgent, idk how well it actually works with jiro but! Oh fucking well! At least im getting smth done ig) 

Cw; Selfharm, Suicide Ideation, Jiro generally being unhealthy, awful writing

Once again; sorry for your eyes, goodluck

Jiro laid in his bed, glancing at the clock on his phone every so often, around 21:34. Mindlessly scrolling through some of his friends' accounts, he never wanted to admit it, but he does in a way enjoy ‘stalking’ his friends, “friends” being mostly of people he's never met or talked to a day in his life, but that's never really mattered to him. 

Usually it's just to catch up on everything, ‘oh they finally got married’ etc. boring stuff, but why the hell not. 

But other times like today, it made him want to throw up. He was happy for them, sure, but there was a disgusting jealousy spreading throughout his chest, traveling down his esophagus, down to his stomach, and setting there. He’s felt it before, the first few times it happened, he thought he literally had to throw up, resulting in him essentially purging to get the feeling out; it didn't ever work. He gave up on trying, it usually went away on its own, just how long would it take was the question. Minutes, hours, days, weeks, months, years. It was all a possibility. The longer he felt it, the worse it became. He’d liked to say that it started off slowly, but it never did. Usually the first thing he jumped to was ‘I'll never be like them, no matter how hard I try, so what's the point in living?’ He wished he could say it was irrational, but it just wasn't. He knew due to one reason or another, he couldn't be like them, no matter how hard he tried, no matter for how long he never gave up. He would always fail. He wished he could also say that he had no desires, that would be a lie too. Seeing people do what you've wanted to do for years of your life, that you never came close to doing, so easily, it hurt. It hurt. It hurt. It. Hurt. and he wished he could say it didn't. He wished something so very mundane didn't hurt. He hated jealousy, he hated greed, perhaps that's why it hurt so much more. Because he was a hypocrite. It's not like he wished that they weren't able to do that, he just wanted to be able to do it too.  

Jealousy, is an odd word. People always assume that if you are jealous- that you wish ill on whoever you’re jealous of. But that couldn't be further from what he felt. Sometimes, it was tiring to constantly work and work for something others have so easily, that you'll never get. Why does life deal such shitty hands to people who care? Or is it the other way? Shitty hands in life make you care? Either way, it still made him sick.  

Somedays, he got off easy, he knew it's not their fault, sometimes motivated by a ‘you'll get there someday, you just have to keep trying’. Days like this though, that wasn't the case. Trying is pointless, not that he just feels like it, but it is. No amount of trying or wishing will ever work. Shitty hand remember? So if he couldn't do what he wanted, what was the point in living? Maybe he was crazy, fucking insane even, no one talks about this sort of thing, there's probably a reason, right?  

He sat up on his mattress, took a look at his phone, then tossed it across the room. He would’ve thrown it, but he didn't see a point in breaking the phone or wall if he was angry. He wasn't even angry either, just like there was a hole in his chest where his heart should be, and that hole was filled with bile.  

He looked down and stared at his hands, disgusting. Failure. He was a failure. He had good grades, sure, but it really didn't mean anything. Grades are just numbers, and numbers that didn't matter to him. If When he gets older, he's probably not going to be sitting on his deathbed thinking about how he got a 100% on a math quiz. But this?  

He stood up and walked over to his ‘desk’, clean for 4 months at the simple request of a friend. It's not like she’d know or find out if he did it. Well, unless he couldn't keep his mouth shut as usual. Even if she did find out, would she care? Would she even remember what was said? Ha. Maybe she’d tell him how pathetic he was, unable to go past a small styro, he is really pathetic, so it’d be fitting.  

Even if she somehow did ‘care’ as much as she said, wouldn't it be tiresome? That was one of the main reasons he stopped in the first place, taking care of people, even if you love them can be tiresome. So she was bound to get tired and bored of it. She’d probably grow to not care, part of him wanted that.  

He admittedly fantasizes thinks about what would've happened if he hadn't stopped, more than he should. 

Maybe she’d grow annoyed of his break/melt downs, maybe she'd make fun of him instead, he couldn't really blame her either way. Part of him wanted her to grow bored of him, but the other selfish part, hated the idea. Even now, he considered reaching out “You don't have to suffer alone, I’m always here, you’ll never annoy me.” but..  

He appreciated it, but it probably wasn't meant for something like this. What was the point? It wasn't like he was gonna kill himself, no matter how badly he wanted to. Sure, it wasn't a necessarily ‘healthy’ coping mechanism, but. It's not like he could do much damage anyways right? This was just like scratching himself when he was pissed off, not healthy, but what could anyone do? It didn't really hurt, so what would be the point in taking it away?  

Without caring enough to think it through, he picked up the blade, and sliced through the mid of his forearm. It stung. More than usual, but who even cares. He spun his chair around, then sat down. He brought the blade to his arm again- he really was pathetic, wasn't he? Slice- even if someone for some reason cared- slice- it's not like they should, he was pathetic and needy- slice- maybe some people in this world are supposed to die? Or suffer at least- slice- but, he didn't really want anyone else to suffer. If he met someone just as himself, would he hate them too? Or would he take pity? Slice- He smiled. His arm felt weak. Hand shaky. No one was coming to save him. No one knew of what he’d done. No matter what, he’s always alone. He deserved it.  

He stared at his arm for a few minutes, the deepest he’s ever cut, after not even 5 minutes, it looks pathetic again. God he's stupid. What if she somehow does find out? She wouldn't outwardly say how pathetic he is, she wasn't that type of person. She’d probably show some sort of concern. Fuck. Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck FUCK. She’ll probably show some sort of care, attention. He didn't want that. Great. Now it looks like he did it all just for attention! Fucking wonderful.  

He glanced at his phone that had been lazily thrown on the floor, part wishing someone messaged, anyone, but dreading having to respond. No matter how much he loved them, responding right after this thing, he always seemed off, too off. 

He took a breath, trying to collect what little of himself was left. He should get something to drink. Yeah, that’ll probably make him feel at least a bit more level-headed.  

But there again, he is a waste of space, failure, etc. he’s heard most of the names by now mostly from himself but that didn't matter, does he really deserve something as simple as drinking? Even basic things do cost money, even if just a few cents. Why waste it on himself? But his throat is so dry still,,  

He walked out of his bedroom, hitting his face on the door, forgetting it was very muchly locked, precaution. He wanted to lash out, take every bit of anger out on it but then…. Nothing. Numbness. He didn't even have a good reason to feel angry. It was his fault anyways. He took a deep breath, unlocked the door, and walked out.  

Walking to the kitchen, slower than usual, he started to wonder again with how he was going to hide his awful wonderful misdeed. Makeup worked.. Well honestly for him it worked awfully. Nothing ever seemed to match in all lighting, plus that was only really an option for scars, tactile cuts didn't really improve much when paired with a powder or creme (?? sorry idk), plus it could run the risk of infection. Right? He's never seen anything warning against it so maybe not? But putting something that has chemicals like that into a cut, it didn't seem correct. Considering what minuscule things could cause infection. Not that he'd mind getting infected and slowly, painfully dying. He just didn't like the look generally.  

What could he do then? Wear a jacket like normal, sure, but she always finds out somehow. Gods know how, not him, but somehow. He could bandage it sure, but that ran the risk of even more questions, it wasn't exactly news that he didn't care about proper ‘aftercare’ like that. Sure, not properly covering it, cleaning the blade etc. could cause infection, but.. Well. He didn't have any excuses, he was just biased in some ungodly way that he never noticed right until that very moment! (Large cough. H e l p.) 

Grabbing a random cup, he decided to just tough it out like usual. Try to not show his arm in any setting but not be weird about it, try to act normaler than usual, sure it’ll suck, but it's between that and in his mind, ‘looking like an attention seeker’. He poured out what wasn't even 1/4th of a cup of water into the cup. His throat was just dry, it's not like he'd die from dehydration any time soon. Sure, he's human, doesn't that mean he just needs the absolute minimal amount of care? Hell, this couldn't even be considered minimal! He has a roof over his head, water, food, there's so much more he could go without, gods he's selfish huh? He sat down his empty glass beside the sink, very quietly laughing under his breath, pathetic, wasn’t it? He’s so selfish, he has it well, yet he acts like he has nothing! What more could he ask for in life? Stability? What a joke. He should really be more grateful. 

He stared at the glass glass beside him, staring into his distorted reflection. Well, at least there was always a way to fix it all. In the back of his mind, he was always running though, listing off methods, quickest, easiest, cheapest, messiest, etc. No matter how hard he tried, he’d never figured out the ‘perfect suicide’ in his own eyes. 

Though, recently, a method stuck his eye. Nitrogen gas. He’d heard it takes one out quickly, but makes them struggle and suffer beforehand. Perfect for himself. No time to back out because of how quickly it takes you, pain before death, he’d never wanted a peaceful one. It was near perfect. But one of the main issues was managing to get any. Or get around any in general. (little did Jiro know; he was only a few letters off from his actual suicide; that being Nitroglycerin!)  

But, he doubted it was realistic, for reasons already stated, so he was stuck with whatever other incredibly fucked method he inevitably decides on. It's not like he probably will anytime soon either, no matter how much he wants to. He walked back to his room, flopping down as soon as he was close enough for at least his face to hit the mattress. Thud totally comfortable.  

He stood up once again, actually closing his door this time. Then sitting on the bed properly, right, shit, his phone. No, no one probably texted, they're all busy. What can only be described as a mantra he mentally spoke, trying his best to not get his hopes up and what left of his heart shattered, even if he was always deep-down hoping, begging for any sort of message.  

He walked around to the far wall, and picked up his phone, quickly turning it around, anticipation and tension always left more room for disappointment. He seen the messaging app icon and- no one. A stupid update reminder. He’d rather’ve seen absolutely nothing than that. But whatever, they're busy, she's busy. He reminded himself, trying to subside the constant idea that they all fucking loath him for everything that he's ever done. But it's probably true though right? Of course it is. They all hate him. No matter how close, they all do. He’ll never change, will he? Why even bother at this point, he loved talking to them all sure, but why do they bother to talk to him? Pity? Perhaps. A disgusting feeling crept back up into his stomach and esophagus, it unknowingly had disappeared some minutes ago. Not like it mattered now. He tossed his phone to the side of his bed, on the ground, not bothering to charge it. It's not like anyone will message anyways. He's an idiot, everytime, everyday, why does he still feel such anticipation anyways? The answer didn't matter. He was tired. He didn't want to sleep, he hadn't gotten anything done, hell he was bored. But he had no energy to do anything. Just because of some stupid post. Sensitive. Weak. Pathetic. Why was he even still here? He's just dead weight to everyone he meets. What is the point. 

He laid there, he didn't know for how long, it didn't matter, he heard a door shut, they're back. He couldn't talk to them or face them like this. No. He’ll fake sleeping, maybe he’ll fall asleep in the process, that'd be nice, or if he never woke up, both seem ideal to him. 

He laid on his stomach, right arm obscuring his face, left in a weak fist. It was a default ‘I swear I'm asleep’ pose, shockingly comfortable too!  

Staring at the back of his eyelids, repeating bright colours and vague shapes started appearing, in a way it always felt a bit soothing, it was always there for him.  

Even when he wasn't there for himself. 

[187days]

Day Eighty-Three

My APGOV students came in, crushed a vocab quiz- their very last one!- and then we did some test review. I addressed some common FRQ errors I saw on their last test- specifically, on the court case question and the argument essay- and practiced some questions with them. Then, I gave them the remainder of time to study independently, or work on other things. 

My World students continued to work on their multi-genre projects, and I did some planning and grading while they worked. I also answered questions, give research tips, and offered feedback on work when asked. One of the boys in my Block 2 class, who kept switching topics, finally found something he’s really interested in researching and blasted through half an essay. He even asked to switch into my room for his flex block so he could keep going because he “had the forward momentum, Miss M!” And then he had me read what he’d written because he was so proud of it (and rightly so- it’s good writing!), so that was awesome. 

It’s fun to watch my students soaring at the end of the semester. 

Also, not that I want to jinx it, but the vibe in my Block 3 class- which was awesome, at first, then abruptly became unsettled a few weeks ago- seems to have been restored. The attention-seeking behaviors that were so disruptive have largely ceased, there’s no argumentativeness, we’re having fun, the class conversations are positive... It’s such a relief to have that back! 

So, basically, what I’m saying is things are going well for me... which led to me causing some drama during today’s faculty meeting. 

Whoops. 

See, we’re supposed to write reflections on the first semester since it’s about to end, and The Principal gave us time to do that after making a few announcements. The prompt asked us to identify highlights and challenges, and I’ve definitely had both, but overall it’s been a good year. One of my colleagues at my table has NOT been having a good year, and it’s largely because she’s a department head, and the meetings between department heads and the administration have been pretty tough. I don’t know exactly what’s gone on, but I know they’re clashing. So this colleague kept saying she had no highlights to write about, and how could they think that anyone would, and I blurted out that I had plenty. Mrs. T told me that wasn’t a helpful comment, but... it was an honest one. Like, I’m not trying to be all toxic positivity over here- there are definitely things that need to be addressed, things we could be doing better, etc, etc...- but relentless negativity isn’t helpful either. 

I guess it was a “don’t rain on my parade” moment. Anyways, the moment passed, we all moved on. I’ll work on the brain to mouth filter in the future. 

[heljar-heimur]

You could also brainstorm with other people! Or even through Google to see what other people have thought before you

Let's preface this with I dislike ChatGPT in general and I dislike using chatGPT. However due to necessity I had to try it.

I just finished my first year of teaching, thought I was going into a position where I just had to do minor adjustments to the materials or learn it to teach it. No, I started the school year with a textbook for one course and 2 fiction novels for the other course. I am the only teacher at my school teaching this subject, I had old stuff from my teacher training and what I still had from being a student myself.

My first instinct was not to run to chatGPT, no I tried talking to people, I tried asking around. I made all my own materials, I used some guides as inspiration but I had to adjust them to match my students abilities.

The reason I made a chatGPT account in the first place was that I needed to provide my admin with proof that the obviously AI text was actually AI, so I needed to figure out how to use it and how my students were abusing it. It took a month of teaching for me to give in and make an account. Despite all my misgivings about it, plagiarism, GDPR, ecological reasons... I made an account.

Once I had the account, the AI became a useful soundboard. Something that was always there, always responded and responded quickly. I tried using co-workers, friends and even discord and Google none worked as well as throwing my problem at ChatGPT. My co-workers were busy and unfamiliar with my subject, my friends similarly so, resources are paywalled or easily accessible to students.

I was a new grad ADHD teacher, overworked and constantly behind schedule. Once I was done teaching my classes and grading I was out of energy, my brain said no more.

So when I was in a time crush and needed a generic description written up or a generic rubric for me to edit sometimes ChatGPT could make that for me, I had to edit it of course but it saved me time and energy.

When I needed to make sentences for a grammar quiz and was staring at a list of words trying to come up with sentences, I could copy paste that list of words into the AI and tell it to give me example sentences using those words, it gave me ideas all at once, not me having to one by one put them in a dictionary or ask Google or pester my friends. I could even ask it to only use vocabulary that a that a B1 or B2 speaker of English should be able to understand.

I didn't always use the sentences the AI gave me, but it gave me ideas that I could edit slightly to better fit my students level. It saved me time and energy at times when I was already so mentally done that I could barely think up basic example sentences.

That's how I use it for brainstorming, that's how I use it for rubber ducking. I don't have someone available to me 24/7 that I can ask to make a list of sentences or help me come up with a prompt for an essay. Do you?

In my fight to get my students to stop copy pasting stuff from the AI I have shown them how bogus it's answers can be, doesn't work. What worked was telling them they could use AI to help them reword something or suggest a good transition word. It worked to grade them on originality and phrase that as not sounding like a generic AI spew.

AI can't write for you but it can help you refocus your thoughts when you have spent too long staring at a sentence. A research question that needs to be a statement, AI does that in seconds.

I wish I had someone on hand to discuss stuff with all the time, someone who I didn't have to explain everything to in details beforehand. I don't and that's why I resorted to AI. I don't recommend using it, I don't like using it. However it saved my sanity this past teaching year.

Okay. It's time for an AI rant.

My nephew is 13 years old. Whenever he writes a paper for school, I check it over and fix all of his mistakes for him. He said to me, "Maybe I'll proofread your paper for you in exchange," meaning one of the scholarly articles I write for work. I said, "Cool," and gave him the file. And he said, "Well, this is full of errors! See, you always say you have a lot to correct on my stuff, and look at all the stuff you got wrong!" And I said, surprised, "What? Where?" Because I'm sure there are typos in the draft I sent him, but not, like, that many.

And then he pointed to the screen and said, "Look at all the blue and red lines you have."

And I said, "Yeah, but those are wrong. Like, those are blue and red lines I'm ignoring because the computer is wrong." And then I paused and added, "You know you can't proofread a paper by just looking at the red and blue lines, right?" And he gave me the blankest look, because that clearly is EXACTLY what he thinks. And it became even clearer suddenly why, whenever I correct something on his paper, his immediate reaction is, "It didn't have a blue or red line."

There's a very good reason for that: THAT'S BECAUSE THE COMPUTER ISN'T SMART ENOUGH TO KNOW THAT IT WAS WRONG.

I am so tired of being sold the idea that computers are better than humans and so we should just outsource everything to them, which is clearly the lesson my nephew is absorbing in U.S. middle school. COMPUTERS ARE NOT BETTER THAN HUMANS. Like, maybe they are better at humans at crawling through rubble to find people trapped inside. They are also better at preserving things in a searchable format. Things like that. Very limited circumstances.

I don't want to sound alarmist but everything I hear about people using generative AI freaks me out. It's not just that I'm freaked out by people being like, "I use it to write novels!" (Although I don't see how they do, I have tried to have it write fiction for me and the output was truly terrible.) But I recognize my bias around creative writing and so no one needs to credit my views on artificial writing. But! Other things are alarming, too! "I use it to brainstorm x, y, or z." But...why? Why not just...use your own brain...to...brain...storm? The computer doesn't even have a brain to brainstorm with! And you might be like, "But it comes up with things that my brain would never think of!" So would other people! You could also brainstorm with other people! Or even through Google to see what other people have thought before you (not AI). Please don't belittle the wonder of thinking.

I just feel like the marketing around generative AI boils down to "Wouldn't it be easier not to use your own brain to think about things?" Everyone. No. It would not be. Please just trust me on this. I'm not just an old person who is out of touch with technology or something. I promise. USE YOUR BRAINS. IT WILL BE OKAY.

[keenestpeach]

complaining below

i am so so stressed. today, this week, has been so stressful at work. grades were due today which i had forgotten all about until like monday or tuesday? and i had a whole ass essay assignment i hadn't graded. and on top of NOT wanting to grade it, the ones i did grade were getting fucked up low scores because of the way the rubric was calculating so i had to keep fiddling with that.

anyway i am NOT good at my job. i say that objectively. these kids do not learn anything with me. creative writing is going so poorly. these kids don't know how to write poems. idk how to teach them how to write poems.

kids behavior is bad and when i give comments on the grading portal about it they come up to me and beg me to change it. they argue about the essay grade i gave them. they fail the reading checks and then it tanks their grade. why should i feel bad about that? they didn't read, they failed the quiz, thems the breaks. but then i start thinking IM doing stuff wrong.

I still have so much stuff to grade. My desk is a mess of papers. I have good intentions and they don't work out. I can't force them to learn anything. but am i helping them at all? if they wanted?

idk. idk. i want to quit but i have NO CLUE what else to do. what can i do with my useless degrees? i don't want to work public/human relations. that sounds worse. what else is an english degree good for? grant writing, copy writing? that stuff is going to disappear thanks to ai. i have a union job. i have a pension, health insurance. i shouldnt just ditch that. ive thought about being a librarian but that requires a specific fucking masters degree and ??? how am i supposed to pay for that? i already have 69k in student loans (I KNOW IM DUMB).

whats holding me back is so much fear. what if i change jobs and also hate that? what if i quit but shouldn't have? there is no job i'd like that would also pay the rent/give me benefits. but at least it wouldn't be like this? maybe? school is all ive ever done. a teaching prof once said 'why do you wanna teach? because you liek the craft or because youve never done anything but school and are afraid to leave?' and god damn does that haunt me. because its true. its true. i teach at the same fucking school I attended. im trapped. its arrested development. i live 5 minutes from my childhood home. its technically in a dif town but. my mom lived in that town, her father lived in that town, his mother, her mother. forever just trapped here and for what? what is here for me?

im not saying i want to leave entirely. i thought about moving states a few years ago but then i started making more local friends/going to games and i didn't want to abandon that (and good lord, have to go to bruins games?). its not necessarily the geography is what i mean. its all of it together. i have never taken a risk ever in my life and im drowning because of it.

[weekend-nathan]

Part 5: I don't like poetry

"Finally, I will really get to know you, Sam, Nathan's mom tells me. He talked a lot about you. But to start, my name is Anne, you can call me that."

Anne seems cool, and not at all like I had imagined.

"Okay, Anne."

"So we will spend a few days together and get to know each other. But did Nathan explain to you a little bit how things work here?"

"How does it work?"

"Already having an older brother."

"Oh yes, he told me a few minutes ago."

"Nathan is quite secretive about that. You'll see, Valentin is very nice, you just have to respect a few rules with him. You shouldn't be scared even though he may act in a surprising way."

"Understood."

"There are also rules concerning those who live here, whether it is on a regular or temporary basis. If you respect them, there will be no problem and we will all have a good weekend together."

"Ok... I say somewhat reassured."

Rules, I hate that. It's Thursday, so I have three days and nights to spend here, I hope it won't be too long. Well, already tomorrow is school, so that's one less day. I hope Nathan won't make us go home right after school ends anyway.

"Well, we'll talk about all this later. I'll prepare dinner. Nathan, help Sam bring his things to your room and do your homework. I'll check on you later."

Anne leaves and Nathan and I go up with my bags. I enter his room and I discover that it is very well organized, everything has a place and there is a place for everything.

"Wow, it's really tidy here. You should see mine..."

"Mom is pretty strict about that, but also about a bunch of other things."

I listen absentmindedly and continue my observations. There is a double bed but I can see that a mattress has been set up next to it, most likely for me. Nathan also has a large shelf filled with books. However, I do not see a console, computer, or television. Nathan is not any luckier than me on that.

"What were you saying? I say."

"I'm not sure if you made the best choice coming to sleep here this weekend."

"Why do you say that? I say very surprised. I thought you would be happy to spend time together. Anyway, I'm super happy."

"You know, it's not like home here. When my mom says there are rules, there really are, and it's better to follow them or else..."

"Or else what?"

"Or else there are punishments... By the way, we should start doing our homework."

Nathan sits at his desk and seems to continue what he was apparently doing before he came down to greet me.

"What do we have to do for tomorrow? I ask."

"We have a mini math quiz on how to write numbers in letters. And in French we also have a poem to recite, you know the one with lines in alexandrine."

Oh bother, I don't like math or poetry. Nathan is focused and I try to do the same. I sit on his bed with my poem on my knees. It's been a while since the teacher gave it to us but I kept thinking I had time and finally... I don't have it anymore, it's for tomorrow.

I've always had trouble with rote learning. Well, let's say I know it. As for mathematics, it's more like French so I should be able to manage without having to review.

I get up and start approaching the toys in Nathan's room. I realize there aren't that many.

"No, those are clothes there, Nathan shouts as I go to open a small closet."

"You don't have many toys, I say."

"We mostly play with Valentin's games, they are mostly in his room. Have you finished learning your poem and revising your math?"

"Yeah, more or less."

"You know mom is going to quiz us."

"I'll read my poem while you recite yours. And anyway, your mother won't grade me."

"It's up to you."

"What do you think of Clotilde by the way? I think she's really cute. I feel like she likes me. Have you noticed how she looks at me in gym class?"

"Sam, if you don't mind, we'll discuss that later, I need to finish learning the poem."

"Yes, sorry, I'm bothering you."

While Nathan learns his poem, I take out my sketchbook and draw, or rather doodle a few characters. It relaxes me and I think I'm not so bad at it, even the art teacher told me so.

A little later, Anne enters the room.

"Are you ready to recite your poem, boys?"

"I don't know it all yet, Mom, but the teacher said we only needed to learn half of it for now."

"What the teacher asks is one thing, what I ask of you is another. And yesterday, did I not ask you to learn it all for tonight?"

"Yes but..."

"What but? Anne says, cutting him off."

"Nothing, sorry mom, Nathan responds handing his notebook to his mother"

Oh my, it's not like at home here... I quickly grab my own notebook and start rereading the poem while Nathan starts reciting:

"Tonight, the sky growled like an old mastiff

The park was deserted, slide without children

And the tall basketball baskets haloed,

Thin, hunched, watched over like streetlights.

Animated by the wind, the dangerous sharks

Repainted on worn spring swings

Creaked... And lingering, from port to starboard

They danced, crazy like the pendulum of time..."

"And the rest? Anne asks."

"I haven't had time yet mom..."

"Okay. The punishment is not lifted then, in fact I think it will be extended."

"Oh no mom, please, Sam is at home!"

"Whether Sam is there or not, it won't change anything. Keep going and I'll give you another one immediately."

Nathan goes silent. I saw his face fall when his mother told him his punishment was not over. I wonder what it is.

"Your turn, Sam, recite your poem to me."

"I don't know it very well..."

"Go ahead, I'm listening. You must still know it to be drawing on your notebook instead of learning it."

"Uh... yes, well kind of..."

"Tonight, the sky growled like an old mastiff

The park was deserted..."

"And the rest? Anne asks me."

"I don't know it..."

"I can see that, Sam. It's not good to do something other than your homework when it's not finished."

"But I don't like poetry. I can't remember them, I've always had trouble."

"Let's move on, it's your problem after all. Come down to eat, it's ready."

I can see that Nathan's mom is upset, but I think it's more about him than me.