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c-cobweb · 6 hours ago

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𝓓on't stand so close to me ⋮ colin zabel

⨾ “young teacher, the subject of schoolgirl fantasy. she wants him so badly” — the police.

ᡣ𐭩 . warnings ᯓ +18 mdni!, teacher!colin, student!reader, age gap (everyone is +18), smut, oral (m receiving). a/n ᯓ thanks @xrag-dollx for the idea! (again) ps: english is not my first language.

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You had been punished again for skipping math classes during the last week and you were upset about it. It wasn't your fault that Professor Johnson's classes were so boring.

But without a doubt the classes you never missed and the ones you were always the first to arrive were those of Professor Zabel. You were always attentive to everything that handsome man said and he, of course, noticed it.

When the bell that indicated that classes were over rang your resoplast and picked up your things to leave the classroom and headed towards the detention room.

You entered and sat at the end of the class, all this looking at your cell phone screen, texting your friend. That was until you heard someone crasping.

You looked up and saw him. You saw him.

“Miss, I think you know very well that mobile phones cannot be used on the school grounds," Colin said with his unmistakeable voice and a small smile on his lips.

Your eyes lit up and your lips curled upwards in a smile. "Professor Zabel, I didn't know it was you who was going to be here supervising"

He sighed and let out a small laugh. "Yes, luckily or unfortunately it's my turn to be here this week"

“That's great! I also have to be here all week," you said with a smile tilting your head.

“Oh, wow. How lucky I am" Colin said in a sarcastic tone making you laugh.

You two had always had that kind of relationship in which the teacher and the student got along well and had enough confidence to joke. But oh, how you wished that trust was more.

“Come on, don't be like that, you know I'm your favourite student” You said as you got up from your seat and walked to the front of the class, where Colin was.

He rolled his eyes at your humourous comment and positioned himself in front of you with his arms crossed over his chest. “More would you like to be my favourite student”

The room was flooded with a deep silence while you stared at each other. Professor Zabel's eyes continued to have that playful look while yours gradually transformed into a seductive look, and he did not take long to realise, taking another step towards you in response.

“And tell me, what have you done to be here punished for a week?” Colin asked intrigued.

“I skipped several math classes” You answered as if it were nothing, sitting on the table with a jump.

“Wow, I didn't have you as a rebel girl,” he said with a small laugh. His eyes flew to your thighs that, as you sat at the table, were even more uncovered by the rolling of your skirt upwards.

You shrugged carelessly letting out a small laugh. “It's not my fault that Professor Johnson is boring. Your classes are something entertaining to watch”

“Oh, yeah? Do you really think my classes are "something interesting to watch"?” Colin asked with a lower tone, getting even closer to you until you could feel his breath and breathing in your ear. “Or do you think I'm interesting to see?” He paused a little when he saw how you frowned. “Don't think I haven't noticed how you look at me, dear, I know perfectly what you really think about me”

You froze in your place, Professor Colin had caught you, but it's not that you were not very discreet either. "I don't know what you're talking about, Professor" You lied even looking him in the eyes.

“Don't play innocent, do you think I didn't realise the times you pretended not to understand something just so I could talk only to you?" He let out a small laugh when he saw how your cheeks turned red. "And well, I think there's no need to talk about that time you sat in the front row and opened your legs excessively so I could see your panties with an unusual wet patch"

You were embarrassed, yes, you had done those things but now that your teacher was saying it out loud you were embarrassed. But you still regained your composure and returned to your usual playful tone. "Yes, but you can't say that you don't like everything I do to get your attention"

He snorted and licked his lips and then brought his face closer to yours. "And what if I like it? What are you going to do now that we are alone?" He asked in a husky tone.

It didn't take you long to put your lips together with his in a thirsty kiss. Colin's hands went to your thighs to open them and be able to position himself between them.

The kiss intensified more and more. His big hand intertached with the locks of your hair, slightly stretching them causing a small gasp to escape from your lips. Colin did not miss the opportunity to put his tongue in your mouth and deepen the kiss.

“You don’t know how much i wanted to do this,” He whispered on your lips. "All those nights thinking about you, all those nights with my cock in my fist"

You couldn't help but moan at his speech and you grabbed him by the shoulders to separate him from your lips. "Let me make you feel good, Professor Colin" You said and got off the table to kneel in front of him and start unbuttoning his pants.

“Your craving it, eh?” He chucked and gathered your hair in a ponytail.

When you got unbuttoned his pants, you caressed the outline of his penis on his boxers. "So big..." You murmured, but he still heard it. Finally you took his member out of his underwear and began to massage it with both hands.

After a few seconds you began to put the head in your oral cavity, moving your tongue around it listening to how Colin began to growl slightly. Little by little you began to put more of his cock in your mouth until it finally made a stop with your throat.

You closed your eyes tightly trying to get used to the new sensation. But little by little you began to move your head from top to bottom while your tongue accompanied the movement.

The grip that your teacher had in your hair became tighter and he began to move his hips gently so it wasn't too much for you. He threw his head back and small grunts and gasps began to come out of his lips.

“Yeah, baby, just like that. Keep sucking my cock like a good girl” He moaned as the movement of his hips accelerated, starting to fuck your mouth even faster.

Your right hand began to caress the rest of his member that did not fit in your mouth, moving faster and faster. You moaned when you felt how Professor Zabel stretched your hair again, moving you away from his member completely.

“I want to cum on your angelic face, do you want that?" He asked to make sure you were ready and you nodded quickly.

He smiled sideways when he saw how desperate you were and grabbed his cock to start pumping it himself. His hand squeezed on his member as he moved it up and down and admired the state you were in.

Your hair was totally disheveled, your lips swollen and your eyes slightly crystalised.

You were a mess.

And Colin loved that.

To help him, you unbuttoned the first buttons of your blouse, showing the beginning of your breasts. And that was enough for Colin to finish.

You closed your eyes and long, thick ropes of semen went to your face, decorating it white.

You finally opened your eyes and saw Colin trying to catch his breath while biting his lower lip before the picture that was your face.

“Fuck, baby. You don’t know how good it was” He said starting to put his member in his pants again to then help you get on your feet.

“I'm glad you liked it" You winked playfully while fixing your blouse.

Colin searched his bag until he found a handkerchief and gently cleaned your face. "That's it, you're clean now" He said giving you a sweet smile while throwing the handkerchief to the classroom trash can.

“Thank you, Professor Zabel. For everything" You said suddenly becoming shy.

“Thanks to you, little lady. And don't worry, next time I'll return the favour" He winked at you, making you blush.

“Is there going to be a 'next time'?" You asked surprised but excited.

“Of course, honey, there will be more than one next time," Colin said with a small laugh. "Now, you can leave, I won't tell anyone that you left earlier" He finished his sentence with a small spanking to your ass, making you let out a small laugh.

You didn't hesitate to come back at the end of the class to pick up your backpack and your phone and head for the door.

“Goodbye, Professor Zabel. See you tomorrow in class" You said winking at him playfully to finally leave the classroom.

Without a doubt, it had been worth skipping math classes to get this punishment.

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mlist , bots

#american horror story #evan peters #ahs #evan peters smut #evan peters x female reader #evan peters x reader #evan peters x y/n #evan peters x you #colin zabel #colin zabel smut #colin zabel x reader #colin zabel x you #colin zabel x y/n

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cainnleacghlovers · 2 years ago

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Daisy - MØ

Pairing: Martin Ødegaard x Fem!Reader

Summary: Y/N’s a teacher, and there’s nothing she loves more in the world than her students, well maybe Martin. What does he do, when he sees her with her students, and all he can see is a little him running around.

Request: “I just thought of this so i wanted to request an imagine if it's possible! Maybe where reader is a teacher and Martin sees how good she is with kids (her students) so he thinks of having a kid?”

Warnings: pure fluff!!!

Rushing around, you bumped into the coffee table.

“Sorry.” You apologised to the literal table. But after being around little humans aged 5 years old all day, it was habit you’d picked up.

You swore you’d bought seeds for your kids to plant, but where were they?

Not under the coffee table (obviously), they weren’t in the garage, and they weren’t in the drawer were you stuff everything when someone’s coming over.

As you ran to check the office at the front of the house, you heard the door open and were met with a strong body against your own. Looking up through your eyelashes, you met eyes with a pair of blue ones.

They were the kindest eyes ever, not a single bad thought behind them.

“You training for a marathon Elskling?” Martin joked, as he dropped his training bag, and wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you impossibly close into his chest as he pressed soft kisses in your forehead.

As you melted into his embrace, you sighed lightly, and felt his hands tracing your bsck softly, spelling ‘i love you.’

It’s something he did when he knew you were stressed, and it was a silent way of letting you know he was there.

You were used to little mouths shouting at you all day, so it was nice to come home and well, not have a little mouth shouting at you.

“Looking for seeds.” You mumbled, still pressed against his chest.

“You shall proceed?” Martin laughed. He assumed it was one of your ‘Lord of the Ring’ jokes.

“Looking for seeds.” You huffed, pulling away from him and looking back up at him.

“Looking for seeds? No way! I knew the Gardens of Babylon were real!” He bantered, making you laugh.

Your students found it mind blowing that no one knew whether this garden was real or not, and when you told Martin the story, he couldn’t help but smile at the way you talked about your students.

You had so much love for all of them. Even when they got paint all over the walls of your classroom.

“You need to stop hanging around Ben White. You’re picking up that sarcastic English lad humour.” You said, as you smacked his chest lightly.

“He still has a crush on you, you know.” Martin laughed.

You knew Ben didn’t actually like you, he just flirted with anything that had a pair of boobs.

“What’s the seeds for then?” He asked, as he took your hand and led you into the living room.

“I thought it would be a fun little thing for the kids to do. You know the way we always do something fun on Fridays with them.” You spoke, and Martin nodded his head in acknowledgment.

“Well it’s warm out, and I thought it would be nice to plant little flowers with them. Mothers days coming up, so I thought it would be a sweet gesture for the kids to give to their mums.” You finished.

Martins eyes turned dark as he listened to your last sentence.

It was no secret, he wanted kids. He didn’t necessarily want them now, but he wanted them. He was a family guy through and through. The thought of a little boy running about with his blonde hair, and your eyes, or a little girl with your hair and his eyes, made him absolutely weak in the knees.

He knew you’d be a good mother, he’d seen you with your students. He’s seen their faces light up when you walked in the room, you seen the love they had for you, and the love you had for them.

He hadn’t even realised, he’d been daydreaming, until you clicked your fingers in front of him.

“Martin, are you away down the yellow brick road? Click your heels three times. Oh they have to be red, let me go get you my hee-” You joked, before he he pulled you onto his lap, and was peppering kisses all over your face.

You were a giggling mess under him, and at that moment he swore he’d never heard anything better.

“Martin I have to find my seeds!” You managed to get out, as he stopped tickling the weak spot under your arms.

“Well call me Christopher Columbus because we’d got seeds to find.”

—

As you opened the front door, you were met with the smell of something.

The smell of something really good.

Carrying your bags in, you set your laptop down on the kitchen island, as you seen Martin at the oven.

Walking over to him, you wrapped your arms around his waist, as you pressed kisses on his back.

“How was your day elskling?” He asked, as he turned to face you, his arms settling around your waist.

“Really really good. We planted the flowers in little pots the kids painted earlier this week. Oh! And guess what!” You slightly shouted, covering your mouth, embarrassed at your own excitement.

Martin laughed lightly, before his hands found the back of your thighs, and he had you hoisted up on the kitchen counter.

“Hmm. I’m all out of guesses today unfortunately.” He said, as he took your heels off, and lightly messaged your feet, knowing they’d be sore from running after children all day.

He began to kiss up your legs, and his hands trailed shortly after his lips, before he reached your neck, placing light kisses there.

Nothing sexual, just the pure love he head for you.

“You know the way I was looking to get the kids involved in the local pantomime?” You grinned, as his lips found your cheek.

He mumbled a ‘yes’ against your skin, before he pulled away, satisfied with the love he’d shown you. Not that he’d ever be able to show all of it, there was far too much of that.

“Well, the board of governors agreed! Saltwood Primary are going to be up winning Oscars next year. Let’s hope there’s not slapping though.” You giggled against Martins lips as he placed a soft kiss onto them.

“I’m so excited for you elskling, I know how much you wanted this. Book me a front row seat. I’ll be right there.”

“By the way, i’m so going to make your practise lines with me to see if they’ll sound good.”

“They don’t call me Hugh Jackman for no reason.”

—

As you waited at the entrance of the local theatre, greeting the kids and their parents on the way in. You smiled brightly at every single one of them.

They’d put in so much effort, and you really hoped this night would go really really well. For their sake, and yours.

Finally, you spotted the man you’d been waiting to see all night. The sight of him, dressed in his jeans and a casual tshirt already made you feel so much better. He winked at you as he walked in.

He’d skipped training to come see this, and that made your heart beat so fast, it threatened to break your ribcage.

“I’m so glad you could make it.” You whispered.

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world.” He said, giving you one last wink, before he headed into the theatre.

—

As you headed into the theatre, you spotted Martin chatting away to a man in an Arsneal shirt, as you felt little arms around your legs.

You looked down and seen a little boy called James in your class.

He was a sweet boy, who was very quiet. He often had trouble telling people what was wrong with him, and you’d assured him that it’s okay to talk about his big feelings, and it’s more than okay to feel like that. You told him he should never be afraid to come speak to you, even if he thinks he’s done something wrong.

“Hiya cool cat.” You said, using the nickname you had for your students. You’d shown them pictures of your cat, and he had a brown spot over his eye.

To a five year old, that’s the coolest thing ever, and the nickname just stuck.

Bending down to his level, you seen he looked worried.

“What’s up with you James? Your costume looks absolutely amazing! Give us a twirl.” You said, trying to distract the little boy. You knew he was worried about getting up in front of people. You didn’t blame him.

As he span around for you, he collapsed into your arms, and you instantly picked him up and took him aside.

Not pressuring him, you allowed him to take his time, if he wanted to tell you what was wrong, he would.

“I don’t wanna mess up Miss Y/SN.” He sighed, looking at you with watery eyes.

“Aw James. Is that what’s been on your mind lovebug?” You sighed with sympathy.

“I don’t wanna let you down.” He said.

“James, look at me buddy. I am so so so proud of you okay? I’m proud of your feet that’s learnt all the dances so well!” He giggled, as your annunciated your sentence.

“I’m proud of your knees that allow you to jump around all night and not get tired!” You exclaimed, as he began to smile.

“I’m proud of your eyes, and how you’re able to give a little bit of attitude, even if mummy will tell you off for it.” You said, making him smile at his role in the play.

He was the mouse in the Gruffalo, and he did have to give a little bit of attitude, which he loved.

“And most importantly, i’m proud of this James.” You said, as your brought his arms so his hands were over his heart.

“I am so proud of the boy you’re becoming James. Everyday you work harder to reach your goal, and you’ve reached it James! And i’m so proud of you. You could get up on that stage tonight, and, come here.” You ushered him closer, so you could whisper in his ear.

“You could say a rude word, and I’d still be proud of you!” He giggled loudly at your joke, and a soft smile fell across your lips.

When your students were sad, you were. When they were happy, you were.

“But you’re not going to do that, are you?” You asked, and he shook his head.

“I’ll tell you what you are going to do, okay. You’re going to get on that stage, and you’re going to make everyone proud. Me, mummy, daddy, but most importantly, yourself. What’re you going to do James?” You asked him.

“Make myself proud.” He repeated, and you gave him a high five.

“Now let’s go show everyone how us cool cats do it.” You said, before you followed him back into the theatre, unknown to you, Martin had watched and heard your little interaction, and he knew he had to ask you.

—

As the show went on, Martin couldn’t help but notice how excited you’d get when one of your students said their like perfectly.

As the show ended, and all the children were bowing, you stood up the tallest, and you cheered the loudest for them.

James, took the microphone, and Martin noticed you were a bit taken back. This obviously wasn’t supposed to happen.

“Could Miss Y/SN please come up on stage?” The little boy said, and you blushed, not at all expecting this. You knew your classroom assistant was planning something.

As you walked up on stage, you ruffled the hair of a few of your students, and walked to centre stage, waving out to the audience.

“Can we get a round of applause for Miss Y/SN.” Maria said, another little girl in your class.

As the whole theatre cheered for you, you couldn’t help but linger at the man sitting front row, just as he promised. He sat along with your bother, who’s son happened to be in your class. He gave you a wink, and as the cheering died down, Maria passed the microphone to Paige.

“From all of us, we wanted to say thank you to Miss Y/SN for all the hard work and how nice she is to us! You’re the best teacher.” As the audience laughed at her cute joke, you couldn’t help but wipe a tear.

The fact your students appreciated you made everything worth while.

The microphone was passed to you, and you cleared your throat before continuing.

“I promise myself I wouldn’t cry but here I am.” You joked, making everyone laugh.

“I just want to thank each and every one of these cool cats up on stage with me. They’ve worked so so hard, and i’m so glad tonight went well for them. I think we’ve got some future BAFTA winners up here tonight.” You joked again, making the audience laugh.

“Group hug.” You said, turning your attention to your students as they all ran into hug you. The audience cheered, and you all waved before you went off stage.

—

Walking around the theatre, you shook hands with parents and thanked them for coming. Seeing James, you gave him and his parents a wave, before ha suddenly crashed into you. You hugged him back, seeing his mum smile at the two of you.

“He adores you.” His mum said, smiling at you.

“He’s the loveliest boy. You should be very proud of him.” You gushed, as you waved a final goodbye to them.

As Martin walked past you, he whispered, “I’ll meet you in the car.” Before heading out.

—

As you made your way to the car, making sure all of your students got home safely, you opened the door, and climbed into the seat, only to be greeted with a bunch of daisies, your favourite flowers.

“Are these for me?” You asked, love traced in your voice.

“No they’re for Gary next door.” Martin joked, referring to your slightly, what’s the word, unhinged neighbour.

He walked his rat. That’s all there is to say.

“Of course they’re for you beautiful.” He said, and you blushed, as you grabbed his cheeks and placed a loving kiss on his lips. As you pulled away, he took your jaw in his hands, and pulled you right back in.

The kiss, lasting longer than you expected, left you breathless, as you eventually pulled away and leaned your forehead against his.

“Let’s get home then. I need to run my hardworking girl a bath.”

—

As you lay in the bath, Martin behind you, his legs on either side of yours, you sighed in content.

Everything in life was perfect. Your job, your friends, and most importantly, your boy.

As you leant against his hard chest, his arms wrapped loosely around your front, one hand tracing your stomach.

He was surprisingly quiet, and he had been for the last few days. He did have a few big games coming up, but it wasn’t that.

You and Martin had been together since your last year of school, and you knew him well.

You knew he wanted to ask you something, but he just couldn’t get it out.

“You’d be the best mum.” He finally said, and your stomach flipped. You had not expected that.

Turning around to look at him, you noticed the blush on his cheeks, and a sheepish grin across his face.

“W-what?” You said, the words getting stuck in your throat.

“Shit, uhm, I didn’t mean to say that-” He rambled, and you shut him up with a kiss. As he pulled away from you, he tucked a strand of hair behind your ear.

“It’s just, seeing you with your students, I just, I can’t help think what a baby with my hair and your eyes would be like. I know you’d be such a good mum, I have no doubts about that, but I don’t know if-”

You shut him up with another light kiss.

“You’d be the best dad sweetheart.” You smiled again this lips.

“You think?” He said, as you felt him smile against yours.

“I’m never wrong.” You said, making him laugh lightly as his hands caressed your hips lightly.

“I’ve always wanted to be a dad.” He said, and although he was vulnerable, he wasn’t embarrassed. He’d never felt closer to you.

“And I know that it’s you who’s going to be the mother of my children. There’s absolutely no one else i’d rather. No one.” He punctuated the last two words, with a kiss after each word.

You two had lightly spoken about kids, but never in this much detail.

“I think i’d like a boy and a girl. But no matter what they are, i’ll love the bones of them.” You said, and Martins heart fluttered at the thought of you holding his baby. Your baby.

“Yeah. I like that. A boy and a girl. But i’d love them even if they were a Madrid fan.” He joked, pretending to gag.

The two of you sat in a comfortable silence, the only sound was the slight gushing of the water when one of you moved.

As the water began to get cold, Martin stepped out, wrapping a towel around himself, before he grabbed one for you.

As you stepped out, he couldn’t help but admire you. You were absolutely perfect to him. There’s not one thing he sees wrong with you.

From your boobs, to your heart. He loves everything about you.

As he wrapped the towel around you, he placed a light kiss on your forehead.

“I love you. So much.” He said.

“I love you too. So much.” You repeated back to him.

“How about we get practising then?” He joked, raising an eyebrow at you.

“You know what they say, practise makes perfect.” You joked, before he swept you off of your feet, and right into your bedroom.

How cute was this🥹🥹 I’m thinking of a part 2?? With some really cute sex… let me know what you think!!

#footballer imagine #footballer x you #martin odegaard #martinodegaardfluff #martin odegaard imagine #martinodegaardxyou #martinodegaardfanfic #martinodegaardxreader #martinodegaardsmut #footballer fluff

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n0sewise · 10 months ago

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Hi friendddd! Long time no chat 😂

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

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

hey! ʕ•ᴥ•ʔ

I love this and I Absolutely see the vision!

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

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

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

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

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

Thanks as always for your amazing asks 💕

#nosewise writing tag #asks

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lienwyn · 8 months ago

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15 questions, 15 people

I was tagged by @clawbehavior! Thank you so much 💜

1. Are you named after anyone?

I am not. My grandmother picked my name to somewhat match my big sister's (we both have names beginning with L) but that's about it.

2. When was the last time you cried?

I guess yesterday? Because my back pain suddenly got ten times worse and sometimes when I tried to move I'd get a stabbing sensation that made me spontaneously start crying. Which is pretty impressive considering that I have a pretty high pain tolerance.

It was also confusing because it wasn't a conscious choice of mine or anything. My body just decided it hurt too much and therefore tears were required. While I was just completely baffled by what was happening because crying from pain isn't something I do very often.

It was an interesting experience.

3. Do you have kids?

Nope.

4. Do you use sarcasm a lot?

Not anymore, no. When I was a teenager, it seemed to be the only kind of humour I could actually pull off, but I've been steering away from it more and more. Now I'm saving it for special occasions ;)

5. What's the first thing you notice about people?

I genuinely can't say. I think it depends more on the person I'm seeing/meeting than anything I have control over. Like, with some I might notice their posture, with others it's their hair colour (if it's something very noticeable), with others it's the way they speak.

I really don't have a set order or something I look for first.

6. What's your eye colour?

Greenish blue

7. Scary movie or happy ending?

Happy ending. Always.

8. Any special talents?

I'm really good with my hands and usually excel at most types of crafts or creative pursuits I attempt, from art and sculpturing to sewing, weaving, embroidery, making furniture, baking etc.

I'm also good at reading people and situations, which comes in handy when I write.

9. Where were you born?

In the north of Sweden.

10. What are your hobbies?

Honestly too many to count. But the ones I spend most time on right now are drawing, writing, reading, playing video games, and taking walks.

11. Do you have pets?

Sadly, no :C

But I grew up with dogs and love them to absolute bits. One of my favourite words in Swedish is "hundlängtan" which basically just means "dog longing" or "longing for a dog."

That's me. I am in a perpetual state of longing for a dog.

12. What sports do you/have you played?

Basketball, floorball, and badminton were the most organised, but I also did gymnastics and skiing as a kid.

13. How tall are you?

176 cm (5'9)

14. Favourite subject in high school?

History! Because I had an AMAZING teacher who made it so, so much fun, especially with the ugly little drawings he kept making on the whiteboard. Half of the time, we couldn't even see what he was drawing, but that was a part of the charm.

I also really liked English :)

15. Dream job?

I would honestly love to be an artist or a writer full-time, but I'm too scared (and comfortable with my current salary) to attempt it. But if I could choose without having to take finances into consideration? Definitely an artist or a writer.

I tag: @miss-ingno, @sjazna, @mesaimouse, @a-very-fond-farewell, @fr-wiwiw, @stl29tide, @writingfanficsfan, @k-s-morgan, and whoever else wants to do it! (I really suck at tagging x'D)

#Tags #Like #Not going to lie #Sometimes I dream about being able to just... be creative #And I don't just mean writing or drawing #I'd LOVE to be let loose inside a workshop and just make a bunch of furniture #Or actually put up my loom and make more rugs #There's something so satisfying about creating and making things

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rissas-roses · 8 months ago

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Okay so this has been a super long time coming, I've been super stressed but I managed to get this finished today so here you go - part 4! I'm planning another part but I cannot vouch for when it will happen!

Title: Keeping this a secret

Tags: LarissaxMorticia, Romatic fluff, homophobia mentioned

Link to part 1

Larissa pulls a blanket over her and Morticia as comes into the common room and sits down, putting their hot chocolates on the coffee table. She kisses the top of Morticia's head and smiles,

"You comfy?"

Morticia nods and moves closer to Larissa, picking up her hot chocolate and taking a sip, "What would you like to watch?"

"I bought a copy of Home Alone. We could watch that,"

Morticia turns on the TV and presses play on the film, reaching to get some chocolate, then kissing Larissa's cheek. Larissa looks around the room, checking to see if there are any other people, "Tish, what if someone sees?"

Morticia frowns, “Basically everyone has gone home for the Christmas holidays, who would see?”

Larissa sighs, shrugging as she looks over her shoulder again to check that nobody has walked into the room, “I don’t know, students? Teachers? You know my dad works here, right? If he found out about us he’d be livid. I- I’m just scared. Scared of what people will do if they find out.”

Morticia pulls away from Larissa, looking at her with a baffled expression,

“Scared? What’s the worst that could happen?”

Larissa looks at the floor, “My family don’t approve of women dating women. They think I should be getting into a ‘proper relationship’ with a ‘decent man’. They have no idea we’re dating, and I can’t tell anyone here because it might get back to my dad and then he’ll force me to move schools. He’s done it before; he’ll do it again,”

Morticia strokes Larissa’s cheek “Oh darling, I didn’t realise. I’m so sorry,” she pulls Larissa into a tight hug, kissing her cheek softly, “I’ll make sure he doesn’t find out. I’ll make sure nobody finds out. I don’t want to be the reason you have to move schools,”

Larissa holds back tears and nods, burying her face in Morticia’s shoulder to hide her embarrassment. They stay like that for a while, just enjoying the feeling of being close to each other, before Morticia breaks the silence,

“How about we have a Christmassy midnight feast tomorrow?”

Larissa nods, still not trusting her voice to say anything without giving away the tears she’d stopped herself from crying into Morticia’s shoulder. Morticia strokes her hair, careful not to destroy Larissa’s delicate updo in the process,

“You can get your beauty sleep, I’ll wake you up at midnight,”

At one minute to midnight, Morticia’s alarm wakes her up and she creeps over to Larissa’s bed, sitting down and wrapping her arms around Larissa. Larissa mumbles in protest, pulling her blankets around her shoulders.

Morticia giggles, “Hey, you agreed to a midnight feast. That does tend to mean giving up at least a fraction of your sleep,”

“Can we at least have a lie in?”

“Mhm I suppose, I don’t have a class until the afternoon, what about you?”

Larissa wrinkles her nose, “I’ve got English first thing,”

Morticia giggles, “Seriously Rissa, our English teacher practically sleeps through the entire lesson, she will not notice you’re gone if you have a lie in,”

Larissa’s eyes widen, “I’ve never skipped a lesson before,”

“Really? Never? You have no fun,” Morticia gets out a packet of biscuits and some mince pies, offering them to Larissa.

Larissa sighs, “It’s kind of hard to have fun when all my parents expect from me is straight As,”

Morticia smirks, “ ‘straight’ As,”

Larissa rolls her eyes, “Trust you to make the bad gay jokes,”

Morticia shrugs, pretending to be offended, “Someone’s got to, and your humour is terrible,”

Larissa gasps, putting the biscuits aside so she can jump on top of Morticia, tickling her and giggling, “Take that back!”

Morticia laughs, trying and failing to squirm out of Larissa’s reach, “Okay, okay, I’m sorry,”

Larissa nods, taking the apology and kissing Morticia, “Good,”

When all the biscuits had been eaten, Morticia put the mince pies away, kissing Larissa’s cheek as she sits down on her bed. Larissa looks at her,

“Can you sleep here?” she moves over, making room for Morticia. Morticia nods, wrapping her arms around her and pulling the covers over them both. Larissa curls up next to her, falling asleep in her arms with a soft smile.

Tags: @dopenightmaretyphoon 💚

#larissa weems #larissa weems fluff #larissa x morticia #larissa weems fanfic

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themusingsofafanficwriter · 7 months ago

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The True Meaning of Family - Chapter 1

Summary: A found family Supernatural AU. Ophelia Humphries is an English 19-year-old who is just trying to finish her online history degree when she receives a letter from two brothers she never knew she had.

A/N: Okay so this isn't the first time I have uploaded this but the account it was on got deleted AND the chapters have been edited a little. This is a multi-chapter fic. You can also read it here on AO3.

T/W - Meantion of death... I think that is all for this chapter

A street light switched on casting an orange glow over the young woman at the library table.

Her typing slowed as she came to the end of her paragraph. She looked up at the clock hanging on the far wall. Half past six. Her European history teacher had given them an assignment to write a blog about any historical subject.

"You must keep a healthy and vibrant blog, updated twice, no, three times a week. Now this will be 60 percent of your final grade, so make it good people." said Mr. Sutton.

Those words rang in her ears, history was her passion and while she couldn't get the grades to go to a physical university she loved her course and she wanted to get this project perfect. Ophelia pressed the publish button on her article about the laws around witchcraft in Britain. Taking one more glance at the clock, she closed the lid of her laptop and slipped it into her dark green tote bag.

The heavy wooden chair made a scraping sound as she stood up, cutting the silence. A girl sat a few tables from Ophelia looked up at her, the noise distracting her from her colourful notes. They held eye-contact briefly as Ophelia walked passed the girl's table heading towards the book drop off point.

"Did you find everything you were looking for my dear?" the old librarian asked slowly. His name tag said Bernie Harrington and he was dressed in a pair of brown trousers that showed the signs of repair, a cream shirt and dark blue knitted jumper. His white hair was bright against his dark skin and made him look much older than his face did.

Ophelia smiled at the kind eyed man. "I did. Thank you so much for your help Mr Harrington, this book was just what I needed."

"I'm sorry you can't take the book out, it's just too old to trust to most of the public, I hope you understand dear."

"Of course I do, Mr Harrington, I'd be upset if anything happened to it." Ophelia said in a whisper as she delicately placed the leather bound book onto the cart next to Bernie.

The book was called The Persecution of Witches and was well over 100 years old. Its pages had the smell of dust, time and smoke from when people could smoke in libraries in time gone by.

"I assume you know this book is said to be cursed dear? The legend goes that those who stare at its pages are persecuted by the supernatural" Bernie added, his eyes glimmering with humour.

The short girl let out a snort that startled her and replied "Mr Harrington, you don't believe that do you?"

"We should all be aware of the supernatural my dear, no matter how improbable it sounds." With that Bernie picked up a stack of books from the desk next to them and placed them on the cart, pushing it towards the shelves. "Have a good night Miss."

Stepping onto the pavement the autumn air caught Ophelia by surprise. The wind stang against her pale skin, turning her cheeks red almost instantly, and flung her curly black hair from where it usually hung around her chin. She brought the collar of her heavy winter coat up to try and shield her face from the harsh weather. She took a deep breath of freezing air before heading towards her car.

Reaching into the back pocket of her mom jeans she grabbed her keys. The metal was cold against her fingers as she unlocked her 1970s black ford mustang. Climbing into the front seat immediately felt like a hug.

The car had once belonged to her grandad, the man who was the only father figure Ophelia had in her life, if you didn't count the gaggle of men her mum brought into her life as potential step-father, Ophelia didn't count them.

Memories of her grandad William and the time they spent together were littered all over the car. Most notably was the photo of William holding a baby Ophelia while he lent against the car. Ophelia picked the photo off the dashboard and turned it over. Written in her grandad's handwriting it said the start of an adventure.

Her grandad passed away 6 months ago and each day it was hard to be without her best friend.

Closing her eyes for the briefest of moments, Ophelia could have sworn she could smell him. The smell of apple pulp from his homemade cider and leather from his jacket filled the car, comforting her despite knowing it was all in her mind.

Her phone interrupted her reminiscing. She had a single notification from her mum.

Sweetheart, can you come home at some point soon, we need to chat about something that has come up.

Love mum x

Ophelia hadn't been home in a few months, after her grandad died her mum's boyfriend Brad began to be too much for Ophelia to handle. It started off with him making fun of little things that she would do like wearing statement shirts or wearing fun makeup. It then became bullying and when she stood up for herself, her mum made the decision to stick with Brad over Ophelia.

Ophelia had bounced between friends from school, sleeping in her car and staying in cheap hotels and bed and breakfasts with the little money her mum gave her each week. She hates using that money, her mum only gives her it because she feels guilty about asking her to leave.

Sighing, Ophelia knew if she didn't respond that she would get a less than friendly message from Brad.

Ophelia hit the reply button and began to type.

Mum - Just got out of the library, I can come over now if that works for you.

Ophelia x

Seconds later her phone beeped again.

That would be great love, Brad is just getting ready to meet up with some friends from work so we will have the house to ourselves.

Love mum xx

Two kisses this time. Something was off. Her mum rarely sent kisses on the end of messages and when she did it was only ever one, and, come to think of it, her mum never called her a pet name.

The car's engine spluttered into life as she turned the key, glancing at the time. Quarter to seven, she should be at her mum's by quarter past seven. Putting the car into gear, Ophelia headed toward her mum's home.

Ophelia pulled up to her mum's country home. It was a dark and sinister looking building but it held many happy memories for her. Memories of family Christmases with her mum and grandad, and birthdays and new years celebrations.

Locking her car behind her, she started the walk up the sandstone slabbed path. The garden's grass was artificial looking and the flowers were placed precisely and symmetrically.

Ophelia hesitated at the perfectly painted grey door before giving three firm knocks. Her stomach was in knots waiting for someone to open it. Footsteps could be heard on the other side and so could voices. She knocked again and fidgeted while looking at her feet.

The door swung open, startling her. Brad stood in the doorway, filling it almost completely. He was tall and proud looking, Ophelia's mum said that's what first attracted her to him. Ophelia always thought he looked arrogant. He was dressed in a suit that probably cost more than a small car.

Brad came from a wealthy background and had never had to work a day in his life, a couple of years before he moved in he inherited his dad's fortune. Ophelia's mum was working in the bar when he stumbled, already drunk, through the door.

"She's here" Brad yelled into the other room, his crooked smile set Ophelia on edge, his breathing set her on edge, everything about him set her on edge.

"Brad." Was all Ophelia could say. Her voice was nowhere near as strong as she wanted it to be. He could tell this.

"Well come on in Ophelia, it's good to see you, how have you been keeping?" His hand gripped her shoulder as he ushered her into the front room. She tried to wriggle free but his grip was too tight.

"Fine Brad, just fine." She said through gritted teeth.

The front room where Brad had ushered her to was not what Ophelia had expected. Before she left the room was decorated in warm colours. Reds, browns and oranges filled the space once upon a time, but now, now it is just white. Obviously Brads doing.

There were pictures of Brad and Sandra, Ophelia's mum, where pictures of Ophelia used to be and candles were tacky ornaments her grandad bought them from his various travels.

In the middle of the room was a small coffee table, on that table was a box of tissues and a tea set. That tea set. That tea set of blue and white only came out when major talks were to be had. This tea set of blue and white had chips and cracks all over it where people had thrown it at walls and even each other. Ophelia smirked to herself when her eyes glanced at the sugar bowl that had a nasty chip taken out of it where she had thrown it at Brad and missed. It hit the wall behind him.

Ophelia's mother, Sandra, sat in the middle of the room next to the table pouring a cup of tea for herself, then, one for Ophelia. Sandra was slimmer than Ophelia remembered, her bones looked sharp and dangerous but overall Sandra looked too frail to hurt a fly. Her dyed blond hair was slicked back into a low bun that only emphasised the inch or so of natural black root.

Ophelia lowered herself slowly into the chair opposite her mum.

"Darling, it's lovely to see you." Sandra said with a smile. She tried to look happy but her face was blotchy and red from where she had obviously been crying. "You look well, I love this shirt you're wearing."

This was a lie, Ophelia wore loud printed shirts that she mainly borrowed from her grandad, since his passing she had to find new ones at charity and second hand shops. Sandra hated how Ophelia dressed. The one she was currently wearing was pale pink with an 80s geometric pattern in light blues, greens and yellows.

"What's going on mum? What do we need to chat about?" Ophelia asked softly, cautious of how fragile her mother looked.

"It's about your dad sweetie." Sandra hesitated.

"What about him? Has he come back?"

"No, 'pheila, he isn't back. You see, you got a letter and I know I shouldn't have opened it but it had an overseas post mark." Sandra reached to the table, moved some magazines and passed Ophelia a letter.

"What's this mum?" Ophelia was confused. She never got post, let alone post from overseas.

"Your dad is dead." Brad interrupted the silence.

The room fell silent again.

"What do you mean he's dead?" Ophelia said slowly, trying to come to terms with the information. She didn't even know the man yet she began to softly cry.

"Exactly that, he's been dead almost 15 years now." Brad continued with no sound of remorse or sorrow in his voice.

That was most of her life. At 19 years-old Ophelia had only spent a few months with her father John Winchester when she was a baby before he had to go back to America. Her mum says it was a summer fling that evolved into something more when she found out she was pregnant. He stayed for the entire pregnancy and roughly half of her first year before leaving. They never heard from him again.

"Love, you read the letter." Sandra's cold hand reached for Ophelia's knee in reassurance.

Her hands shaking, Ophelia removed the letter from the envelope and began to read.

#supernatural #fanfiction #fanfic #ao3 fanfic #fanfic writing #ao3 writer #ao3 #found family #sam winchester #dean winchester #sam and dean

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lovebillyhargrove · 2 years ago

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15 QUESTIONS

Thank you for the tag @prettyboy-like-you ❤️

1. ARE YOU NAMED AFTER ANYONE? Not that I know of. I like my name tho

2. WHEN WAS THE LAST TIME YOU CRIED? Maybe a week ago, was sad about billy again, or about the world in general. I don't cry often, but sometimes it just all fucks me up, the fragility of everything, the cruelty on which the world runs

3. DO YOU HAVE KIDS? Yep, two. They are amazing just like all kids are, but I'm constantly drowning in the feeling that I'm a bad mother

4. DO YOU USE SARCASM? Sometimes. More like humour, but sometimes I can bring some acidity into it

5. WHAT IS THE FIRST THING YOU NOTICE ABOUT SOMEONE? Whether we'll get along maybe. Whether they are arrogant or not. Whether they actually see beyond their own set of rules and beliefs

6. WHAT'S YOUR EYE COLOUR? Hazel-greenish-yellow

7. SCARY MOVIES OR HAPPY ENDINGS? When I was young and free I liked scary movies. After having kids cannot watch them anymore. Happy endings only. There is enough unhappiness and pain in this world as it is

8. ANY SPECIAL TALENTS? Mostly likable)

9. WHERE WERE YOU BORN? In a 2mil. city where I'm still living. Jealous of people who move away to different places, but I never could actually tear up the roots, even when the opportunity presented itself

10. WHAT ARE YOUR HOBBIES? English, watching series in the original, beads, clay, did I mention beads, I'm obsessed with them. A bit of writing, thank you billy and harringrove

11. DO YOU HAVE ANY PETS? No. My kids are dreaming about getting ANY pet, but I get so exhausted at work that I just know, I won't be enough to take care of one more living creature

12. WHAT SPORTS DO YOU PLAY/HAVE YOU PLAYED? Never liked sports. Swimming for fun. Walking a lot

13. HOW TALL ARE YOU? 1m 60cm. Short

14. FAVOURITE SUBJECT AT SCHOOL? English, Literature

15. DREAM JOB? I kinda love my job (English teacher), but I would love to work with beads maybe, or pottery, even if not creating things, but in some kind of a shop maybe? I just love touching this stuff)

Whoa it was long and it was fun!!!))) Tagging @dragonflylady77 @disdaidal @cieldepeanut @thissortofsorcery @memes-saved-me @edith-moonshadow @neonponders @harringrovest and literally anyone who sees it and would like to do it?

#tagging game

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straycatboogie · 1 year ago

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2023/06/29 English

BGM: R.E.M. - Why Not Smile

At this lunchtime, I checked Facebook and found that a Russian friend Victoria was referring to me. She was talking about the sense of humor, the power of smiling. It was really "once in a blue moon", and also really like a grateful response for me. Really thankful... And I thought "Why? Why this can happen?" and "What is this real world which offers such a grateful event like this?". 10 years ago, I could never imaging this would happen in my life, my future. I sobbed a little because of happiness. Some would say that MEN like me shouldn't show their tears in public, but please "leave me/us alone". I want to sob, so let me do so... I have survived really, truly hard periods/eras until now. Being bullied in schools, being treated as an alien/creature, being suffered from alcoholic... The days I even thought like "I wanna end this life". But I have lived through those events... Some people are really sweet for me. I can feel that my server on Discord also has really nice members. What a wonderful world/life.

Victoria asked us this question. "Looking backwards, do u feel that your sense of humour change?". I want to answer this. When I was a child, I was into a Japanese legendary comedy group Drifters. The style of Drifters was, in my opinion, "nudging/teasing strong people", not "dissing/hurting weak people". They have made various simulations as schools, companies, and any other groups. The leader of Drifters, Chousuke Ikariya, acted/pretended as a brutal leader (the teacher/boss/leader etc), and other four members tried to nudge/tease him humorously. I dislike harassment jokes/comedies. Indeed, we might be able to make smile/laugh when we see that kind of harassment which hurts someone's inferiority complex. But it also recall me of the past traumatic days. The days/period when I had to surrender by many classmates in a classroom. I was almost "pressed" by it. Therefore, I can't enjoy the current Japanese comedies because it is a little bit homosocial for me (but the quality of modern Japanese comedies are so great).

TBH during my work of today, I suddenly thought "what would I do if today were the end of my life?". Yes, if it were the end of everything... Then I felt the emotion of "I wanna live more". I want to live and do more. I have never achieved/realized the dream of becoming a bridge person. And I have more books and people to encounter... TBH once I believed that "I can end this life anytime, any moment". "If I wanna end this life, it's OK. Because my life is mine, not anyone's. I can control/manage my life my own freely". But now, I think like this. My life, my existence is not only my things, but also other people's things. They care my life, my existence. If I threw my life freely/violently, it would mean I am an egoistic person. I have been connected/supported by many people (For example, our server "World's End Pharmacy" on Discord has 100 members). I am co-working with other friends who are helping/supporting my life, my existence. I am not only mine... Yes, it would sound a little bit tautological. But this idea helps me not to hurt myself anymore.

After today's work, this evening I had a meeting on ZOOM. We talked about "what are the things for you which has changed 360 degrees by corona?". During this corona period, I started using this ZOOM. Now I can enjoy various meetings at various place on that ZOOM. It is one of the big changes for me. But also I say that I have never worked at remote during that period because I am an "essential worker". The workstyle of mine has not been changed by that... I talked about that. I also think about the struggle of vaccination. Yes, I had wondered walking/struggling within huge confusion of rumors as "vaccine lets you die soon" and "we/they can't say it must be safe". I had read a lot of pieces of conspiracy stories about vaccination. How can I manage myself as a calm, sane person? If I am normal for you, then that is because of YOU. YOU support me a lot by reading this journal and more... I want to say thank you. I slept soon because I had to work early, and also attended that meeting. I wanted to attend Victoria's meeting on ZOOM which was held AFTER that "360 degrees" meeting. SEE YOU NEXT TIME!

#diary #english #journal #online diary #tumblr diary

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doctor-peggy · 1 year ago

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Once my high school has a famous author speak to students and other people (probably parents) while he was on a book tour. I attended because my English teacher let me and I got to skip part of class (if she ever reads this: I’m sorry. I know you’re on tumblr. Please don’t be mad at me.)

Anyway I didn’t particularly like his writing to start with, so my expectations were low… but I really would have skipped the talk for my actual English class if I had known that I would come out of it with nothing useful.

Specifically, the part that drove me absolutely nuts is that when someone asked about how to get better at writing or get published or something, he said nothing of how to explore your own writing and gain useful skills that help you express yourself better. Nor did he say anything about the nature of the publishing industry. He pretty much says “if you can’t get it right on your first try, give up while you’re ahead. telling stories is not for everyone, and writing skill is innate and immutable. you either have it or you don’t.”

I really should have walked out then to prove a point.

Typically I don’t end up engaging with communities who place disproportionate value in a specific style of written expression, and who claim that other forms of writing are less important or valid. It’s not that I avoid it, but more just that I don’t end up in those kinds of spaces one way or another.

I still think studying writing is useful and important. I learned a lot about how I can use language to my advantage when trying to express what’s in my brain exactly the way I wanted it to come across. I can and have used literary techniques I learned about in my silly little fluff/humour fanfics because many of them, beyond the stuffy technical terms, are just ways to direct a reader’s attention to evoke certain feelings or ideas.

But it’s important to remember that there is a point where studying writing ends and gatekeeping writing starts. And it’s not necessarily a point that’s hard to notice. I know that I will be studying some limited amount of writing in the near future and it will be entirely the result of privilege. And when I inevitably analyse writing, I would like to not forget that the writing I am studying is not more valuable than the 100k+ word slowburn texting au fanfic that I once read. Which I am specifically referencing because I didn’t bookmark it on ao3 and now I’m looking for it. Which is somewhat unrelated. Anyway.

It sucks that we even choose to assign social value to a certain type of writing over other types of writing. And it’s incredibly frustrating to me that this has distanced people from writing. I hardly know how to work through that kind of disillusionment… but I do sincerely hope that writing doesn’t have to keep being hard and painful for you forever. A form of self-expression that imposes arbitrary rules about its usage is no longer a form self-expression.

Also to that one author who spoke at my high school… fuck you.

I've been able to neither read nor write stories in a long time. Poetry too, for the most part. I guess what I mean is that the art of the written word has become a stranger to me.

I hate what poetry classes did to my writing. Yes, the Wikipedia poems, but they are easier because they're not my own words, and I have gotten so many comments on those saying they are powerful pieces of art, but for me personally they're a way of hiding from the awfulness of trying to assemble my own words into poetry.

I hate the poems I wrote in poetry classes. I hate the version of me I showed others in those classes. I hate the way poetry classes taught me to draw from my own experiences and thoughts for poetry. I hate everything I learned about how to interpret poetry, the eye with which I learned to read poetry, and the vocabulary I learned to talk about poetry, and ultimately, I hate "literary" poetry.

"Literary," by the way, is the category of art that has more meaning, value and legitimacy than the "other" category, which is not "literary." A "literary" poem is published in special, fancy "literary" magazines and almost invariably written by a person with a MFA or PhD in poetry.

You could say that the distinguishing feature of "literary" art is its overwhelming sense of legitimacy. A "literary" poem is a poem in the same way that a nonprofit organization is charitable, that a CEO is rich, or that an SAT score demonstrates your academic prowess. It is a poem completely immune to the possibility that someone will think it sucks. It expects to be absorbed, analyzed, studied, and discoursed upon because something feels "official" about whatever designates it as Good Art.

Literary poems are not only written by and for a special subset of people that have been formally taught to read and interpret poetry, they are written exclusively for audiences that will automatically assume they are Good Art; beautiful, meaningful, and worth interpreting. Because of this, most literary poems are literal incomprehensible nonsense.

Just take this one:

Say I climb the ladder of wheat/and at the top there is a faucet dripping beads of water/but the water takes a year to turn into an eagle/and the sky's forty-three shades of gray pierce/the first inflection of my heart, the point where the signals/throw grass into the river. Say the river sags/and the horizon sucks the lance out of the ghost's hands/like the moment of being born, the point where a shadow's/tongue slides through the faultline./Grace. Sunlight, cherries.

(it continues like this)

And conceptually, I love art as collaboration between the creator and viewer, where abstract, indeterminate and murky things are forced to take shape through the participation of the viewer as they interpret and associate things that stand out to them in the work! The "aliveness" of art in the abyss between what the artist attempts to communicate and what the viewer feels is the coolest thing to me!

But this philosophy of art is incompatible with the idea that there is an elite category of art that is worthy of interpretation, analysis, and reverence. I can fuck around with this random word generator and get something that is roughly as meaningful as the above. I don't mean that as demeaning to the poem, I mean that I feel demeaned by the poem, because its linguistic play and experimentation is something that everybody can do, that everyone should try doing, but this poem has been designated as something exceptionally meaningful and worthy and its writer teaches writing at the University of Chicago. You can click through that website for hours and not find a single soul without a MFA or above in poetry or creative writing.

For me, the world of "literary" writing was like a room with a splatter of vomit across the floor that no one else would acknowledge. The ability to formally study poetry in college was a privilege, but I was constantly aware of privilege, and the thing about privilege is the more you have, the less you think about it. What of the ability to pursue a PhD in poetry? What small fraction of people could expend so much time and money on something that didn't really have a career associated with it? And of that fraction, which fraction would be seen as "good enough" to publish poetry books and to teach? With poetry this indeterminate, how were the "good" poets selected at all?

Literary writing excludes poor people, and the existence of published literary poets who are immigrants or minorities doesn't negate this. Increasingly, published writing in general excludes poor people. A LOT of popular authors graduated from very elite schools!

But literary poetry I hate especially, because it puffs itself up on unlocking the universe and human experience and pain, as if insight into those things is a seldom-appearing gift instead of something many people have, except they don't have the time and money to train themselves into expressing it in a way that appears Literary.

The "literary" vs. "non-literary" paradigm had an inescapable rottenness to it. I couldn't stop thinking about the luminous conversations I'd had with people who lacked the formal training to express ideas in a "literary" manner, but still showed me something vital about the universe.

I've been bitching about literary poetry for like two years now, and really, I just hate what studying all that shit has done to my own writing style. It's so frustrating that the joy and playfulness won't come back.

#I apologise if this isn’t coherent. I fear I may be getting drawn into long reblog replies because I just have many words in my brain #but also I have a lot of foggy veils of dissociation in my brain so saying things well becomes hard #the connection between my brain and my keyboard is metaphorically damaged. I promise if anything seems offensive I do not mean it #except the bit about the famous author. I definitely mean offense to him specifically. fuck him. also his books are bad.#I won’t say who it is. it’s probably not doxxy but I’m sometimes paranoid about oddly specific things.#I mean I didn’t ever say what year it was… but still #I wonder if it’s inappropriate to reblog with text after the poetic tumblr conclusion #but this is a post about not forcing ourselves into arbitrary literary conventions so I think it doesn’t detract from the reblog chain

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goosewriting · 2 years ago

Note

hello! i was wondering if i could request how the ROTTMNT boys would take care of or comfort their S/O after they've had a bad day emotionally (just feeling sad, tired, unmotivated, etc)? i thought you wrote them very accurately and i am curious to see what you think (if you choose to take on this idea)!

Bad day, like, the worst (rottmnt x reader)

summary: the turtles take care of their S/O after they had a really bad day.

relationship: Rise Leo, Raph, Mikey, Donnie x GN reader (separate)

warnings: distressed reader, comfort

word count: 2.2k

A/N: excuse the sudden shift in style; i’m still trying to find my sweet spot between “technically still prose but in bullet points” and “rambling about my headcanons in the group chat”. i wish i had a turtle to cuddle me on a bad day :’) hope you all have a fantastic weekend!

(english is not my first language. constructive criticism and grammar corrections are very appreciated!)

— — —

You were having one of those days where the little luck you had seemed to have abandoned you completely.

It had started that morning, when you slept through your alarm and got up late. You spilled your breakfast on the clothes you had picked out the day before, and almost everything else was in the laundry. So you had to settle for an old shirt that you didn’t consider too flattering.

Then you arrived late to class, only to realise you forgot your assignment at home. Which you had stayed up late to finish, and you were actually happy with the result. Your teacher didn’t seem too convinced about your story, and said you’d have to hand it in by that night per e-mail, or your grade would be lowered.

Once you were finally done with the classes for the day, which you hadn’t been able to focus on at all, you were just walking out the doors of the building when it started pouring. And of course you had forgotten your umbrella.

You decided to ask your boyfriend turtle to come pick you up, but your phone had run out of battery. With an exasperated sigh you placed your backpack over your head as you made a run for it.

After what seemed like an eternity, you arrived at the lair. As you entered the main room, you tripped over your own feet, and all your things from the backpack went flying. So by then you were soaked, incredibly frustrated, and had lost the last bit of dignity you had left. You were convinced that the universe was against you that day and out to get you.

Kneeling on the floor you broke down in tears.

🔵 Leo

Leo would be by your side immediately.

Even though he can seem to be all over the place, he has a very good sense for how the people around him are feeling.

Still, he appreciates it when you’re able to voice your needs.

If you have a hard time doing that, he’ll offer you some options so you can decide and not be overwhelmed.

“Do you want me to listen or give advice?”

“You wanna play a game to get your mind off things or cuddle and talk about it?”

Overall super attentive and affectionate.

Leo takes your feelings seriously of course, but if it gets too dark, he’ll try to make you laugh to lighten the mood. After all he copes with humour.

“Oh hey Y/n! I didn’t know you were coming ov-“ Leo greeted you when he heard you come into the lair, but seeing your legs give in under your weight he rushed to your side. “W-what happened? Are you okay?!”

I’ve had the WORST day ever is what you tried to say, but what came out was a series of choked back sobs and gasps.

Leo quickly picked up your things, and hooked your backpack over his shoulder, then took your hands in his to get you up to your feet, and guided you to his room. He dismissed the worried looks his brother gave him, solely focused on you. It pained him so much seeing you like this.

Sitting you down on his bed he closed the curtains at the entrance of his room. The first thing he did was give you a clean change of clothes and wrap you into a blanket burrito. Then he sat down beside you and gently stroked your cheek with his thumb, wiping away the tears.

“Do you wanna talk about it?” he asked softly. Using a corner of the blanket to wipe once across your whole face, you thought about it for a moment and silently shook your head.

“Is there anything I can do?” he tried again, seeing that your tears just kept coming. Sniffling, you just hugged his torso, bringing him down onto the bed with you as you lied down.

“Can we just stay like this for a moment” you said in the tiniest voice, Leo almost didn’t hear it.

“Of course” he said and kissed the top of your head, letting you cuddle up to his chest between his arms.

To distract you, he told you about some missions he had been on with his brothers, retelling some of them truthfully, and some of them with an obviously exaggerated flair, just to make you laugh or snort at how ridiculous the story was.

Hearing his voice lulled you to sleep, and it didn’t take long for you to doze off, not before thanking him with a tired voice.

Giving you a relieved, loving look, he lied next to you, hearing your even breathing, soaking up your warmth, and wiping away the tears from time to time. After he was convinced you were fully asleep, he carefully got up to get you some water and a snack, leaving it on the nightstand for when you woke up, and got into bed again with you.

🔴 Raph

Mama bear alert.

Raph could get a little overbearing when you’re feeling really down in the dumps.

He’d bring you your favourite plushies, food, comics, games, a giant pillow, everything at once.

Eventually he calms down when he realises that what you need is just him being there.

Will listen to your venting intently, offering several times to beat up who or whatever made you feel like this.

When you arrived at the lair looking like you did, the brothers called for Raph. After making sure that you weren’t physically hurt or wounded, he effortlessly picked you up and brought you to the bathroom to take a warm shower. You didn’t really protest because a shower did sound good. Maybe it’d wash away the cold, wet and miserable. Meanwhile he went to pick up your things and make you some hot chocolate.

You couldn’t help a couple sobs here and there while you were changing, and as Raph passed the bathroom door he clenched his jaw at the sounds; it broke his heart in half to hear you like that.

When you were done and came out of the bathroom, Raph once again picked you up and brought you to his room. He sat down on his bed with you on his lap, and handed you the steaming mug. There even were mini marshmallows floating in the drink.

“So what exactly happened? Did someone do something to you?” Raph asked, doing his best to hold back his growing anger at the thought. Shaking your head, you looked down at the drink in his hands.

“It wasn’t someone. Today just… isn’t my day. At all” you said, noticing how hoarse your voice was from the crying, and took a sip from the mug. Just the taste of how good it was, the perfect amount of sweet and chocolate-y, had tears streaming down your cheeks again.

“Is it too hot? Did you burn yourself??” Raph asked, slightly panicking. You just gave him a soft smile and shook your head again. Ah, a smile, finally, he thought to himself and relaxed again.

“It’s perfect Raph, thank you” you said, and placed your head on his plastron. He carefully hugged your body with his big arms. “And thank you for… just being here”.

“Always”, he whispered back.

After emptying the mug, you lied down next to him and retold the series of unfortunate events of that day, while he listened and drew soothing circles on your arm and back with his hand. Looking back at your day now, it didn’t seem all that bad.

🟠 Mikey

His first reaction would probably be to freak out a bit.

Materialises the first aid kit out of thin air.

Once he realises your pain isn’t external however, his demeanor changes completely and he’s much more grounded.

As… unorthodox as Mr. Delicate Touch can be, when it comes to you, he’s very gentle.

If you’re rambling about someone because you feel you were treated in an unfair way, out of the four brothers Mikey is the one to “side” with you the strongest, no matter how biased your view may be.

Hearing you arrive at the lair, Mikey made his way to you, only to find you on the floor, sobbing.

“Oh mi gosh! Y/n!” he cried out and rushed to you. “Are you okay? What happened?”

You let out a sound that was something between a whine and a high-pitched grunt.

“Are you hurt anywhere?” Mikey asked, checking your head, arms and legs. You only shook your head and leaned onto him, crying into his neck. You stayed like that for a while, both on your knees on the floor, just your sniffles filling the air, while he stroked your back up and down.

“You wanna go somewhere more comfy?” Mikey asked after you had calmed down a bit. You nodded, didn’t move however.

“Are you hungry? I made brownies” he tried luring you, and it worked. You leaned back to look at him, and with puffy eyes, a red face and part of his plastron imprint still on your cheek, you whispered a firm “Yes”.

“Brownies will make everything better, don’t worry!” he said and helped you up to your feet, taking your hands. “But first: you need to shower. You’re cold and soaked. We don’t want you getting sick!” he exclaimed in a sing-song voice and guided you to the bathroom. Leaving you with a towel and a change of clothes, he made his way to the kitchen to prepare the snacks.

When he had the brownies, a can of whipped cream and (favourite drink) ready, he placed everything on a serving tray and brought it to his room. Not long after, joined him, rolling up in his blanket.

He sat down next to you on the bed, taking out his phone.

“Do you wanna watch Youtube? I think there’s a new video of the series you like” he offered. Snuggling up to him and being careful not to get crumbs on his bedsheets, you thanked him and gave him a quick kiss on the tip of his beak, then took a bite out of the brownie. It was so good you could have started crying again.

You two spent the evening watching mostly vine compilations. When he heard your first real laugh at one of the sketches, he finally relaxed.

🟣 Donnie

Out of the four, he probably has the hardest time.

Not because he doesn’t want to “deal” with you or anything; he just doesn’t know what to do.

You’ll have to be very clear on what you want from him, and he’ll happily follow suit to the best of his abilities.

Probably has to actively hold back on commenting unsolicited advice, and he won’t succeed every time.

Donnie just wants to help you make a plan to get out of whatever situation you’re in, because he hates seeing you like this. It makes him feel so helpless.

If it was someone however that made you feel like this, he’s bringing out all of his sharpest and pointiest inventions, no matter if they’re still in beta.

When he found you on your knees, soaked, sobbing and on the floor, for a moment Donnie just stood a couple steps away, looking at you. He was trying to process what he was feeling, how to handle it without lashing out, and calculating every possible reason for why you looked the way you did.

Obviously it had rained, hard, as the forecast had said that morning, and obviously you had no umbrella on you. Biting his tongue as not to reprimand you on your carelessness, he decided to focus on getting you dry and warm first.

Hearing him, you looked up at the turtle standing in front of you. “Donnie” you called him, and a new stream of tears came running down your face. The purple turtle felt a sting in his chest.

Approaching you, he helped you get up. You went in for a hug but he stopped you by the shoulders. “Shower first” he simply said, and you followed suit.

After giving you a clean change of clothes, a glass of water and a fruit of your choice, he checked for a fever. Seeing as your temperature was normal, he let you sit on his bed next to him.

“So what happened?” he finally asked and you trembled slightly. You knew he’d probably scold you for not having an umbrella with you, and for forgetting your assignment, and you really didn’t feel like getting a scolding right now. But you also didn’t want him to think you had to walk on eggshells around him; it had never been like that. You liked how blunt and direct he was, and knew he’d never lie to you, no matter how ugly the truth was. You sighed deeply.

“I just had the worst day ever” you began. “It’s not even worth going into detail. It was literally just Murphy’s Law over and over.” Sniffling, you looked up at him. “Can we just… hang, for a bit? I really need a distraction.”

“Sure, we can hang” he said, but then a mischievous smirk took place on his face, as he took you by your hands, guiding you off the bed. “Oooor, I can show you my super-cool new invention I’ve been working on. It will not only distract you, it’ll blow your socks off!”

At that you laughed slightly, and seeing he achieved his goal, Donnie brought up your hands to his face to kiss your knuckles. A slight blush adorned your cheeks. It never gets old, he thought to himself in satisfaction.

#goose feathers #rottmnt #save rottmnt #rottmnt leo x reader #rottmnt donnie x reader #rottmnt mikey x reader #rottmnt raph x reader #tmnt 2018 #tmnt x reader #rottmnt x reader

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chaeryybomb · 4 years ago

Text

BRUTAL

pairings: female reader x best friend!jungwon

summary: they told you that these were the golden years, but to you "golden" was a rusting metal spray painted yellow. the story of a seventeen year old trying to survive high school when all you do is try your best. but your best friend jungwon makes it worth the while.

genre: high school au, friends to lovers, fluff, tiny bits of angst if you squint, attempt at humour

featuring: jang wonyoung, kim sunoo & nishimura riki

word count: 4.5k

warnings: reader having a existential crisis most of the time, strong language, mentions of insecurity

the sour series masterlist

You slumped forward the moment the bell rang, letting your head hit the table. You could care less if a bruise would form on your forehead, you had much bigger things to worry about. Your teacher left the class wordlessly as the class was busy doing their own thing. And by that, everyone was buried nose deep in studying. You lifted your head to see the different books of the same topic scattered on your desk, a yellow highlighter balancing on the edge of your table.

Reaching over to grab the highlighter, you turned your head over to the side to look at your desk mate. Wonyoung sat there looking straight out from a k-drama, with her hair flowing down her back perfectly and her slender nimble fingers moving as she continuously wrote in her notebook. She was smart too, fluent in English and Korean, great at maths and science. And on top of that she was kind and friendly, everyone loved her. You did too, you had the honour of calling her your best friend. But sometimes you felt insecure around her, everything she did looked flawless and there you were just trying your best.

"Ack!" You yelped as you sat up straight, holding your forehead. Wonyoung rolled her eyes at you with a small smile on her lips, she had flicked your forehead to get you out of your thoughts.

Without taking her eyes off the textbook, she tapped your own workbook with her pen. Silently telling you to stop procrastinating. You pouted at her and looked at the clock, 10 minutes before lunch. Maybe a walk to the girl's bathroom would do you some good.

"I'm gonna go to the bathroom," you whispered to Wonyoung. She nodded and smiled at you before you walked out.

As you strolled towards the girl's bathroom, you passed by the bulletin board outside your class. A bright blue poster stood out with the words "ENJOY YOUR YOUTH" in white. Scoffing at the message, you continued on your way.

"I'm seventeen now, where's my fucking teenage dream?" You muttered to yourself. You were tired of waiting for your life to end up like a coming of age movie. Everyone told you that these were the golden years and you should enjoy your youth, but you swear to god if you hear another one of those cheesy sayings, you might just cry on the spot.

Reaching over to open the stall door, you halt in your actions when you heard familiar voices talking.

"I'm so worried for finals, my parents are gonna kill me if I fail English again," a girl complained. You hear the sound of tap water running. "How are you so calm during this time, Mirae?'

"What's the use of studying hard anyways," the second girl, Mirae, said. "We all know the top spots are gonna be taken by Jang Wonyoung and Yang Jungwon, I just study enough to pass."

The other girl snorted at her reply. "Imagine if those two got together, the power couple of the year," she suddenly said.

"Poor Y/N then, she's gonna be over shadowed by them."

"As if she already isn't. I almost forgot they were a trio until you mentioned Y/N," the girl laughed.

"What can I say? They're out of her league," Mirae joined in with her laughter.

The two voices faded away as you heard the door closed. Finally pushing the door open, you looked at your reflection. Your eyebrows knitted in annoyance and your face was morphed in a scowl. You washed your hands aggressively and poked the inside of your cheek. What bugged you was that they were right. You were the black sheep between Wonyoung and Jungwon. Both of them were smart and amazing, and you're just…you.

You love your best friends, you truly do. But you were constantly compared to them and you hated it. Everyone wanted them, you watched as guys tripped over to confess to Wonyoung and girls squealing when Jungwon smiled at them. The two of them always reassured you that you weren't beneath them but you were sick of their sympathy. You're so caught up in the news of who likes you and who hates them. You just wished people liked you more.

Storming out of the bathroom, someone accidentally ran into you and caused you to fell onto your butt. The student immediately stood up and scurried off, not bothering to even a mutter an apology. All I did was try my best and this is the thanks I get, you thought bitterly.

They said that these were the golden years, but you wished you could just disappear. God, it's brutal out here.

"Y/N, wait up!" Jungwon called after you.

You stopped in your tracks as you watched Jungwon waved goodbye to some students before jogging towards you.

"You heading to cram school today?" He asked you as the both of you fell into the same walking rhythm.

You shook your head, clasping your hands behind. "I moved it to Thursday instead, Wonyoung said I had to many things on Tuesday," you told him. Originally, you would be heading to the library to study before heading over to the cram school. But Wonyoung took one look at your schedule and decided that you did not had enough breaks, so she managed to convince you to take the Thursday slot instead. Thursdays are one of the days where you would not go to the library.

Jungwon seemed to be disappointed to find out that you had switched slots. Maybe he should changed slots too, but does he have any empty spots open for Thursday though? He'd have to check later. Instead, he coughed and stuffed his hands into his pockets.

"Do you wanna come over later? The new Demon Slayer movie is out," he offered, hoping that you'd accept.

Unfortunately, you once again shook your head. "Sorry Jungwon, I'd want to cram even more later. Finals are really creeping in and I can't afford to waste any time," you told him with a sad smile. As much as you would like to ditch the books and watch Demon Slayer, the glaring C on your last history paper was telling you otherwise.

You stopped walking when you had reached your doorstep. "Thanks for walking me home, Jungwon. See you tomorrow!" and with that you disappeared behind the door.

Jungwon waved goodbye as he watched the door closed. The smile on his face dropped and his shoulder sagged. Jungwon you idiot, of course she would want to study, he scolded himself. With disappointment on his face, he trudged home with a heavy heart.

"Change of plans, guys," he announced as he swung the front door open, unfazed by the fact that Riki and Sunoo were lounging on his coach. He accepted the fact that Sunoo had somehow gotten the keys to his house (suspecting that his mother probably gave it to him due to favouritism or maybe Riki had sneakily made a copy).

Riki's head poked out from the couch. "She rejected you, didn't she," the younger boy said with a smirk.

Jungwon's face ears turned red as he glared at the boy. "No she did not!" He immediately told him. "She rejected the offer to watch the movie, that's different!"

"That's basically rejection, hyung," Riki laughed.

The other boy just glared at him. "Shut up!" he sputtered out before hiking up the stairs.

Sunoo gave Riki a look, to which the Japanese boy just shrugged his shoulders innocently.

Jungwon walked out from the shower, a towel around his neck with one hand running through his damp hair. Sunoo and Riki had left earlier, finally giving him some peace and quiet. His phone screen was flashing from his study table, initiating that someone was spamming him (quite aggressively) with text message. With a raised eyebrow, he picked up his phone

[7:09 pm] wonyoung: JUNGWON

[7:10 pm] wonyoung: WHY DID Y/N JUST MESSAGED ME ABOUT HOMEWORK

[7:10 pm] wonyoung: ISNT SHE WITH YOU

[7:11 pm] wonyoung: I THOUGHT YOU SAID U WERE GONNA WATCH A MOVIE

[7:11 pm] wonyoung: DEMON HUNTER OR SMTG

[7:12 pm] wonyoung: WHY IS SHE ASKING ME FOR HW

[7:12 pm] wonyoung: DID U CHICKEN OUT???

[7:13 pm] wonyoung: omg u chickened out didnt u

[7:14 pm] jungwon: jfc wonyoung

[7:15 pm] jungwon: and no i did not chicken out okay

[7:15 pm] jungwon: she declined

[7:16 pm] jungwon: she said she had to study ;-;

[7:17 pm] wonyoung: omg u suck

[7:17 pm] wonyoung: i told u the movie idea was dumb

[7:18 pm] wonyoung: but do u ever listen to me

[7:18 pm] wonyoung: no

[7:19 pm] wonyoung: and now u suffer the consequences

[7:20 pm] jungwon: yea yea i get it im dumb

[7:20 pm] jungwon: now what's ur solution the great jang wonyoung

[7:21 pm] wonyoung: i am so glad u asked :)

[7:21 pm] jungwon: oh no

[7:21 pm] wonyoung: stfu im giving u a better idea

[7:22 pm] wonyoung: a n y w a y s

[7:22 pm] wonyoung: my ynradar is going off and she's s a d

[7:23 pm] jungwon: how would u know

[7:23 pm] jungwon: she seemed fine today

[7:23 pm] wonyoung: stfu jungwon its best friend things u wont understand

[7:24 pm] jungwon: i-

[7:25 pm] wonyoung: and as her future bf u SHOULD start to train ur ynradar

[7:25 pm] wonyoung: anw its exam season stoopid

[7:26 pm] wonyoung: and its when those kids start to talk abt how the both of us are gonna get top scores

[7:26 pm] wonyoung: and they talk down on y/n while doing so

[7:26 pm] wonyoung: assholes

[7:27 pm] wonyoung: so i propose to u

[7:27 pm] wonyoung: a ✨ study date ✨

[7:28 pm] jungwon: i

[7:29 pm] jungwon: that's

[7:29 pm] jungwon: actually not a bad idea

[7:30 pm] wonyoung: obv i came up with it

[7:31 pm] jungwon: can u not

[7:31 pm] wonyoung: anw a study date

[7:32 pm] wonyoung: she's struggling in maths

[7:33 pm] wonyoung: specifically taxes because she said and i quote

[7:34 pm] wonyoung: "why do we have to do taxes when we pay people to do it for us"

[7:34 pm] wonyoung: so pls help her and try to cheer her up

[7:35 pm] wonyoung: and confess coward

[7:36 pm] jungwon: i make no promises for the last one

[7:36 pm] wonyoung: aFTER EVERYTHING I JUST SAID

[7:37 pm] jungwon: what if she rejects me wonyoung

[7:38 pm] wonyoung: WE'VE HAD THIS CONVERSATION A LOT OF TIMES JUNGWON

[7:38 pm] wonyoung: SHE LIKES U BUT SHES TOO DUMB TO REALISE

[7:39 pm] jungwon: sigh

[7:40 pm] jungwon: fine i'll try thanks wonyoung

[7:41 pm] wonyoung: np i expect y'all to be a couple by next monday <3

[7:41 pm] jungwon: i-

Sighing for the nth time of the night, Jungwon sat on his bed. He allowed the towel to slipped off his shoulders as his thumb hovered over your chat icon. Truth be told, he always thought his crush on you was unrequited love. You never showed any signs of returning of feelings so he thought he would just ignore the feeling until it was gone.

But oh boy was he wrong, because he didn't knew that he would be spending his high school years by your side. And now you occupy his mind 24/7. Wonyoung could literally tell that he was in love with you, but somehow you never caught on. He allowed Sunoo and Riki to convince him to do the whole "movie date idea", but that failed. So Wonyoung's suggestion was his only option left.

He typed out the message, ready to send it out. If only he could just press the button. Come on Yang Jungwon, you can do this. Just press the damn button Jungwon. Suddenly his phone pinged loudly, scaring the lights out of the poor boy as he yelped and his phone landed with a thud on the ground. He peered over his bed, as if his phone was a ticking bomb.

Oh, it was a message from you.

[8:01 pm] y/n: hey do u know where wonyoung is

[8:01 pm] y/n: she isn't answering my texts

Oh no. He realised that your chat was open, the two ticks indicated that he had (unintentionally) read the message. He couldn't just leave you on read. That's just evil. Scrambling to get his phone, he immediately typed a reply to cover for the other girl.

[8:02 pm] jungwon: sorry i don't :/

[8:02 pm] jungwon: what do u need her for

[8:03 pm] y/n: mf was supposed to teach me a maths question but she left me on rEAD

This was his chance! It was the perfect opportunity for him to score a date with you. Okay, breathe in breath out Jungwon. Don't mess it up and just ask her, he mentally prepared himself.

[8:04 pm] jungwon: oh i could help you if you want

[8:04 pm] jungwon: yk with finals coming up and everything, i can help you study

[8:05 pm] jungwon: if you want of course

[8:05 pm] y/n: omg srsly??

[8:06 pm] jungwon: pls help me study my braincells are literally dying

[8:07 pm] jungwon: jdsjkda okay how about this saturday at your place?

[8:08 pm] y/n: yeah sure

[8:08 pm] jungwon: cool its a date then!

You blinked at Jungwon's message. A date? Wait, did Yang Jungwon just indirectly asked you out? Nah, nah. You were overthinking it. Yes, definitely overthinking. Don't kid yourself, why would Jungwon ask you out on a date? Jungwon is just a friend, you tried to convince yourself.

Keyword: tried.

If he really was just a friend, then why did it felt like butterflies were in your stomach when he said "it was a date"? Then why did you frowned when those girls said that Wonyoung and Jungwon would make a good couple?

Oh god, do you have feelings for your best friend?

Saturday came faster than you would have liked it to. Ever since that last chat with Jungwon, it gave you the sudden realisation that you did in fact had feelings for your best friend. You tried so hard to avoid him in school because you don't want the butterflies back in your stomach. It was basically confirming the fact that you like him. Well, avoiding him also confirmed the fact but you choose to be in denial about it.

You didn't tell Wonyoung about your study date but lately she's been sending you outfit ideas on Pinterest. Specifically, date outftis. And whenever you tried to ask her a question about school, she brushed you off with a random excuse. So it left you no choice but to save those questions for Jungwon.

Speaking of Jungwon, he had texted you 10 minutes ago that he was on the way. You were standing in the middle of your room with your hands on your hips. Both of your parents were out for the day, which left you alone at home. You had taken out the low table to be used later and it was currently in front of you. Colourful workbooks were neatly stacked on top of it.

You did a 360 turn around your room. Was it messy? You cleaned it this morning when you woke up. Did you had any clothes out? No, doesn't look like it. For some reason, you were a nervous wreck. You blamed Jungwon. He just had to call this a date, didn't he.

Should you change? Maybe you should finally look through all those pins Wonyoung sent. Wait, no, why would you have to change into something nice. Jungwon was here to help you study, just that.

Yeah, a study date, your mind emphasised on the word.

The sound of the doorbell pulled you out from your thoughts. You immediately went to open the door. Yang Jungwon stood there on the other side, with his signature smile. Had he always resembled a sheep? He just looked so fluffy.

"Hey!" You greeted him with a smile, internally wincing at your way-too-enthusiastic voice.

But Jungwon didn't seem to mind it. "Hey!" he greeted back.

You moved to the side to let him in. "Thank you for having me," he said as he bowed then proceeded to remove his shoes.

"Uh, do you want anything? Water?" You asked him.

He shook his head.

"Ah, cool. Let's head to my room," you started to walk back to your room.

"Where are your parents?" He asked.

"Out," you simply replied.

That was when it dawned upon you, that your parents were not home. Leaving you and Jungwon, alone. Together. In your room. Alone. With the boy you potentially have a crush on.

"Y/N?" Jungwon tapped on your shoulder. You had stopped walking when you were suddenly washed over by your thoughts. Snapping out of it, you sent him a small smile before opening the room to your door.

The both of you shuffled into your bedroom, you sat down in front of the low table while Jungwon settled down next to you. He moved to take out his books then turned to you. "How about we do some studying and if you have any questions, you can ask me okay?" He said.

You nodded and flipped your own workbook open, immediately starting to work on the first question. Jungwon copied your action and a comfortable silence engulfed the both of you. As the time passed, you found yourself stuck on a certain maths question.

You slightly turned your head to the side to look at Jungwon. He was concentrated at doing his work, you felt a sense of deja vu while looking at him. He resembled Wonyoung when she was studying. At the thought of Wonyoung, you suddenly thought of what those girls said at the bathroom.

They would make a good couple, wouldn't they, you thought. The power couple of the year.

The butterflies in your stomach faded away into an uncomfortable feeling. Just the idea of them getting together already made you sick. You bit the inside of your cheek, you really did had feelings for him. And now it scared you because what if he doesn't feel the same. You made a mental note to consult with Wonyoung later, at least you hope that you'll allow yourself to tell her.

Jungwon must've noticed you staring and gently tapped your head with his pencil. A contrast to when Wonyoung painfully flicked your forehead.

"What's wrong? Are you stuck on a question?" He asked.

You leaned back a bit at the sudden action. You were so deep in your insecurities that you had totally forgotten about the literal problem sitting in front of you. Yet you couldn't even bother to ask him so you just shook your head. "I'm gonna get something to drink," you said instead.

Jungwon watched as you stood up, then decided to follow you as well. "I'll come along."

The boy joined you in the kitchen, perched on one of the island stools as you grabbed a can of soda from the fridge. He studied your movement as you worked around the kitchen. Your features were neutral, you weren't smiling nor frowning. But he could tell that your shoulders were tensed. Wonyoung was right, you did seem down. And he cursed himself for not noticing earlier.

"You okay?" His question made you stopped in a mid-pour stance, the can of soda was tilted but not enough for the contents to be poured out.

You brushed his question off and poured the drink into the cup. "Yeah," you hummed.

Unconvinced by your answer, he pried more. "You know you shouldn't care about what they say, right?"

You furrowed your eyebrows at him, pretending like you didn't understand where he was coming from.

"You're not below us, you know that right?"

You couldn't help but scoffed at his words. Jungwon's lips tugged downwards "I'm being serious here, Y/N," his tone was stern. "You shouldn't listen to what they say. You're more than just-"

The sound of the can being slammed down shuts him up. Your fingers tightened around the can as you looked at him. You didn't had the energy to hear him preach the same old "Don't Listen To Them" speech. You don't need his pity.

"I don't want to hear it, Yang Jungwon," you said through gritted teeth. Not sparing him another glance, you threw the empty can into the trash as you grabbed your glass.

As you walked past Jungwon, he suddenly reached out and held onto your forearm. "Y/N," he said softly. "Please tell me what's wrong."

You sighed and slowly turn around to face him, placing the glass back on the counter. You took in a deep breath before you opened your mouth. "I feel like I'm not enough," you finally said. "Everything I do just doesn't seem enough. All I'm doing is my best but it's just crushing my ego because everyone is telling me that you're better than me."

"I feel like no one wants me and I hate the way I'm perceived. It's always poor Y/N this and poor Y/N that's because everyone just sees me as your shadow and I fucking hate it. I only have two real friends," you gestured wildly. "And lately I'm a nervous wreck cause I keep comparing myself to the two of you. I'm not cool and I'm not smart, and I can't even parallel park!" You threw your hands up in frustration, the feelings you kept inside were pouring out like a waterfall.

Jungwon just stood there as he listened tentatively to every word. He didn't knew that you felt this way, bottling up all your emotions like that.

"And I'm so tired of people telling me to enjoy my youth and that these are the golden years. I might just fucking cry if I hear those words again," you finished ranting. It felt good, it felt like a weight on your heart has been lifted. Then you remembered that you just dumped all of it on Jungwon.

You opened your mouth to apologise to him but he surprised you by pulling him into his arms. At first you were standing stiffly at the sudden contact, but it took a millisecond for you to melt in his embrace. His arms were gently around your back and you returned the hug by wrapping your arms around his torso. The two of you stay in that position for awhile, relishing in each other's embrace. You definitely needed this hug.

Tightening your hold on Jungwon, you realised how important he was to you. He was your best friend and he was always there for you. It was stupid of you to compare yourself to him, when all he did was tried his best for you. The taller boy chuckled when he felt you rubbed your face into his shoulder, he involuntarily released a contented sigh. You felt one of his hands stroked your hair, it felt comforting. That action itself was enough for the butterflies to slowly settled back in you.

After a while, both of you finally (unwillingly) released each other. He pushed a strand of hair behind your ears and said, "You're wrong by the way." Which made you tilt your head in genuine confusion.

"You are cool and you are smart. You're like the coolest person I know. And no one thinks of you as our shadow, you don't hear it but I've always hear the juniors praising you for helping them and how enthusiastic you are," the way he delivered his words was filled with pure awe for you.

"And who cares if you can't parallel park. You didn't hear it from but Jay hyung failed his drivers test three times just because he couldn't parallel park," and that got a laugh out from you. Jungwon smiled proudly that he managed to make you laugh. "And you're wrong when you said no one wants you. I want you."

You blinked once, twice and thrice. He wanted you? "You're just saying that cause you're my best friend," you replied.

"No," he firmly said. "I like you, Y/N."

(Jungwon doesn't know where he got this sudden surge of confidence, but the mood was the perfect time for him to confess. It was a one time chance and he had to take it.)

You chuckled. "I like you too, Jungwon. We are friends aren't we?"

"No, Y/N. I like you. More than friends."

"Oh." Oh.

"Yeah," he scratched the back of neck awkwardly. Oh no, did you not feel the same way?

While you on the other hand, were malfunctioning on the inside. Your best friend just confessed to you and you were frozen on the spot. Why couldn't he had done it over text instead. If he had done it over text, then you could've left the message unread and you could've spammed Wonyoung for help. But the thing is that it wasn't over text and you couldn't just tell him to wait here while you panicked to Wonyoung in your bathroom.

Yang Jungwon likes you. And you like him too, right? Because if you didn't, your cheeks won't be heating up right now and your heart would have not be beating rapidly like it was going to break your rib cage any second. If you didn't like him, there would have never been butterflies in your stomach. Yeah. You like Yang Jungwon, you like him a lot.

"Me too," you whispered, it was soft but it was enough for him to pick it up. Jungwon eyes snapped to you, doe eyed filled with hope. "I like you, too," you said, this time louder. And you made sure you looked him in the eye when you confessed.

You watched as Jungwon's mouth morphed into a big grin. He let out a sigh of relief and dropped to his knees, surprising you. "Jungwon!" you squeaked, bending down to help him.

"I'm fine! I'm fine," he assured you as he stood up with your help. The grin on his face was still there. "It's just that … you like me," he breathed out. "You like me back, wow. I-I can't believe it."

Your face was definitely burning with embarrassment. You punched him lightly on the shoulder, turning away to hide your face. "Believe it, you dork. I like you, okay!" Somehow his grin was able to grew wider at your words, Gently, he took your hand in his.

"How about we stop this study date, and I'll take you out on real date?"

a/n: thank you so much for reading this <3

#enhypen #yang jungwon #jungwon #enhypen imagines #yang jungwon imagines #jungwon imagines #enhypen x reader #yang jungwon x reader #jungwon x reader #kim sunoo #nishimura riki #enhypen scenarios #yang jungwon scenarios #jungwon scenarios #jungwon fluff #enhypen fluff #yang jungwon fluff #chaeryybomb; the sour series

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leviiattacks · 4 years ago

Note

teacher!levi and teacher!reader headcanons please 🥺

author note :: i expected for this to be better but idk,,, um, you know maybe it’s just me who wishes i executed it better but i wrote this at 3am that’s my excuse. ANYWAY I HOPE U ENJOY ANON :-))) i know it’s not headcanons but here!! also my ask box is always open to feel free to drop by !!

word count :: 5.4k (after i had to severely cut the word count down because my tumblr wouldn’t let me post the longer version with more detail,,,,)

honestly you’ve never fit in well with the math teachers in particular but you’re still amicable with most

however, there’s one unbearable member of the group that happens to want to play jump rope with your patience constantly

and that person just so happens to be mr ackerman

every single staff meeting the both of you sit furthest away from each other whilst silently exchanging bitter glares

maybe it’s his stony disposition or his unrealistically harsh grading system that makes him seem so off putting to you.

or perhaps it’s your soft and gentle approach to teaching that drives him up a wall

but to make matters simple, the two of you have never got along. nearly everything he says you disagree with and nearly everything you say he has to rebuke.

every outlandish suggestion of his at meetings is met with firm disapproval from you and every time you bring up wanting to provide the children with more time for extracurricular activities he sneers in annoyance

today he’s proposing a plan to set exams as soon as possible

???

you wonder if he’s even thinking with his head attached to his neck because it’ll be impossible for the children to handle all of the content in the form of an exam paper so soon

the workload he’s been pushing onto his math class has become far too ridiculous for your liking and you want to put an end to the man’s reign of terror

it just so happens your classes are scheduled in the blocks next to each other meaning he always sees your students an hour before you do

it’s got to the point where your pupils trudge into english class completely EXHAUSTED

the other day a boy fainted because of lack of sleep and now mr ackerman has the audacity to put forward the exam dates???

“we need to instill these children with discipline. taking them by surprise will give them a much needed reality check.”

you groan at his speech and raise a hand

“may i interject?”

professor ackerman’s tongue pokes at the inside of his cheek the irritation is painted on his face but he nods although he seems reluctant

“these children do not need standardized exams to-”

“would you like for me to completely scrap exams from the curriculum?” without even allowing for you to present your argument he has to cut you off with a mocking grin

“levi, i think-”

“that's mr ackerman to you.”

his blunt correction has you rolling your eyes because YES!! you understand the two of you aren’t exactly the best of friends but he doesn’t even want to be on a first name basis with a colleague of two years??

his pettiness has your blood boiling in searing displeasure

“you have to stop going so hard on these children.”

he’s shuffling through some paperwork not even batting an eye in your direction.

“personally, we aren’t hard enough but of course the english teacher has trouble understanding that.”

the jab he makes at your job only causes the anger inside of you to bubble up again

why does teaching english have ANYTHING to do with this???

“you teach math yet you can’t calculate the reasoning behind your subpar love life. do not insult english.”

personal insults are your favourite to throw at him because he always gets so riled up

and actually for once you have the answer to a math question.

the reason why his love life is so uneventful has to be because of this :

his personality + his obnoxious humour + his looks = a good looking but undatable man

his jaw clenches and the grip he has on the stack of papers in his hands strengthens

ok,, that is kinda hot but that is not relevant at all

you’re able to make out miss ral one of the other math teachers make a move to speak and god you fight the urge to punch her every day because she’s always gushing about mr ackerman

seeing as you don’t want to punch her or anyone for that matter you turn to give her a “if you speak right now i swear to god i will lose my shit” look

she gets the memo incredibly quickly because her mouth closes shut immediately

mr ackerman takes a sip out of the cup of black tea next to him. “i would appreciate if you just sat back and let me do what’s best.”

“children fainting in my lesson is not what’s best.” your rebuttal catches him off guard and he seems more than a little surprised

“wait- fainted??”

you eyes flick over to mr zacharias, you had told him to pass the message on but the way he’s sheepishly looking at the floor avoiding your eyes clearly tells you all you have to know

“looks like someone forgot to pass the message onto you but the other day falco fainted in english.”

“is he- is he okay?? did he say why?”

eyebrows raising you’re quite surprised to see any sort of reaction from him let alone concern

“he stayed up all night completing your homework.”

lips pressing together into a fine line it almost looks as if he’s guilty

“i’ll talk to him about it later.” his voice is back to its usually plain tone and any trace of his previous worry has been masked.

an awkward silence follows. he coughs choosing to not continue the discussion about exams.

principal smith takes the hint and moves on to discuss planned school trips

HOORAH victory!!!

yet another day where you’ve saved your students

“who is fallacy and why are they pathetic?” a few snorts and giggles are heard around the class and you force yourself to laugh at falco's miserable attempt at a joke

you’ve noticed falco’s been cracking more jokes around his new seat mate gabi.

she’s small but feisty always willing to debate and she’s really a joy to teach although she can get a little bit aggressive with the others at times

honestly it’s quite obvious that falco has a fat crush on her. well, actually it’s been obvious from the moment she step foot into your class

and... you couldn’t just ignore the way falco looked at her could you?? and there was an empty space next to him too sooooo, what harm would there be in placing the two together?

it seems as if your attempt at getting the both of them to talk has worked. gabi and falco compete desperately for the top position in the class and are two of the best students you’ve had in a while

also after the day falco fainted in class gabi has been noticeably nicer. things like asking if he’s drank water or how much he’s slept

you have a small inkling that she may like him back

and the budding romance is adorable to you because you too once had childhood crushes

it feels rather nostalgic to see the two interact

but today you notice the two aren’t in

in fact, you notice half of the class isn’t?

“where are the others?” your question sends a jolt through one of your present students but he stays silent choosing to pretend to clean his glasses as a distraction

crossing your arms over your chest you walk over towards his desk

“udo, you can tell me what it is.”

“professor ackerman said not to tell.” udo looks petrified and you’re just kinda wondering what in the hell is going on

lucky for you his resolve is thin and he quickly cracks under pressure

“okay. you can’t say i told.”

nodding in agreement he looks around making sure no one else hears what exactly it is he’s about to disclose

“he’s kept some people back to talk to them about something top secret. i don’t know what but he asked for the students who like you.”

at that you feel a little bitter because if he asked for the student who liked you why on earth is half the class still here??

but oh well, you guess you can’t please them all

“oh no, no, no. you’ve got it wrong. we all wanted to stay but he didn’t let us.”

udo looks genuine so you let it slide

either way it doesn’t really matter as long as the majority prefer you over that sick and twisted math teacher you’re alright

“he does know he’s cut into my class time right?”

“falco told him that and he whispered something about how you’re bothersome.”

you???? bothersome???

WHEN HE’S THE ONE BOTHERING EVERYONE?/!:£:!/)

you don’t even look back as you walk out frankly furious at what’s happened

english is important

ACTUALLY!!!

ENGLISH > MATH

you will stand by that till the day you die

your knuckle meets with the wooden surface of your sworn enemy’s classroom door and almost automatically you’re able to hear the shuffle of chairs and padding of numerous footsteps approach

the door swings open and you step aside to allow your missing students to pass through

they look nervous but one look at your reassuring smile lets them ease up and relax

“well.” a voice behind you snaps “look who paid me a visit.”

“we’re talking about this later.”

you try your best to sound serious but you don’t know if you pull it off as well as he does because he just ends up giving you a disappointed sort of look

“y/n. stick to being the good cop it suits you better.”

“we are not on first name basis. you said it yourself.” is your narrowed comeback

finally turning to face him you’re surprised when your eyes travel to the triangle of space behind him and you’re able to get a peek of what looks to be a list of books on his whiteboard

pride and prejudice

wuthering heights

jane eyre

ville-

before you’re able to read the rest he moves in front of your line of vision

he’s got quite the selection but,, when did he of all the people on this planet start showing any interest in literature?

“the books on the board what’s that about?”

your inquiry flies over his head and he shuts the door behind him completely

his face doesn’t move and if it does it only shows the slightest hint of confusion

“what books are you talking about?” he replies and don’t know why your knees feel a little weak when he looks you straight in the eyes

snap.

out.

of.

it.

“i saw books on the board.”

“you saw wrong.” he barks back and he’s getting agitated now

maybe you did imagine it...

and you have to get back to teach your class so okay fair enough you’ll let it go because you do know you have a habit of daydreaming randomly

however that doesn’t stop you from giving him another skeptical look before you leave because there is NO WAY you imagined it, but it is you and it really could be a possibility

the click clack of your heels against the floor sound out as you remove yourself from the conversation

you assume he’s returned to his classroom

that’s why it catches you by surprise when you hear a hesitant voice behind you

“there were no books on the board.”

you don’t know why he has to tell you that again because it only makes himself look all the more suspicious

“but if they were a list of book recommendations then what would you recommend i read?”

the question is peculiar coming from him

are you in an alternate universe?

is this a dream?

are you talking to a clone?

a robot?

because this can NOT be the same man you’ve been working with for two years

maybe he’s having a change of heart?

but that sounds unlikely

maybe he’s planning to read the book and somehow with that big brain of his formulate a calculation to score it a measly two out of ten

yeah. that sounds more likely.

nevertheless, you still want to give him a recommendation, maybe he’ll find out he’s into books this way

“you should totally check out pride and prejudice :-)”

for once you’re smiling at him and he doesn’t know what to do because the change is sudden but he doesn’t say a word after that

instead he retreats into his classroom

god.

now you’re sure he’s just asked to form a stupid calculation or whatever the hell it is math teachers do.

“he likes you.” hange has a shit eating grin on their face and you can’t help but narrow your eyes and sigh in exasperation

no he does not like you but you don’t try to correct hange because you know they’re firm in their stupid belief

“would you ever date him?” hange fiddles with the last of their potato salad absentmindedly waiting on your reply

the question literally has you choking on your lunch

“i would rather fight for survival in the wilderness. thank you for asking.”

“oh come on... he’s got a thing for you. you read romance novels all the time you should be able to tell he does.”

“yeah and that thing he has for me is wanting to shove my head onto a pitchfork. you’ve got the wrong end of the stick.” shoving a piece of pasta into your mouth you sigh dreamily at the taste. it serves as a momentary distraction

you get one lunch break and you are not!!!! in the mood to talk about him whilst you’re on that break

he’s attractive

and you have to admit he looks handsome in his crisp white button up and pristine black suit AND his cologne is really...

okay, you are digressing from the point

none of what you just said means anything!!!

at surface level he seems like a catch but it’s what’s on the inside that matters and he said he finds english stupid

that’s more than enough of a reason to dislike the guy?

he thinks stuff like the pythagorean theorem and y = mx+c are entertaining

y = mx+c ??? over literature???

you read books to teach and you read books for your own enjoyment

it would be a complete travesty if you had a crush on a book hater

and levi ackerman most certainly can be classed as a book hater.

a pessimistic book hater if the specifics are needed

“OH! SORRY Y/N GOTTA BLAST MOB’S OVER THERE!!!!!”

you don’t even get the chance to say goodbye because hange makes an eager run towards moblit

hange and moblit are inseparable, both are the shared heads of the science department and since he’s been off on sick leave recently you understand why hange’s rushed off to greet him

you wish you had a teacher friend like that but the sad truth is you’re pretty much a lone wolf. the other english teachers are wrinkly old pickles and talk about antiques or quiz shows :-(

“this seat free?”

no way.

it’s not him

it can't be

what does he even want??

“um, well yeah it is free b-.”

“good.” he takes the seat without you even inviting him and now you’re stuck in an awkward situation you didn’t even expect to be in today

you're about to burst into tears because is it too much to ask for a peaceful lunch period???

mr ackerman clears his throat and places a book in the center of the table. “pride and prejudice although not my cup of tea was... mildly enjoyable.”

wait...

is this him...

admitting defeat!??

HELLLOOOOO

you are over the moon right now because you know he really had to have enjoyed it a lot and is simply choosing to withhold that information for his own reputation

“i’m happy to hear you took a liking to it.” you’re munching away at your pasta a little more upbeat now

“okay but the start of the book assuming all single men want a wife? no, all i want is a good night’s rest for once. also mrs bennet needs to calm down, elizabeth can marry who the hell she wa-”

“someone’s a little passionate aren’t they?” you giggle into your glass of water and you catch mr ackerman frowning

“i liked it okay.”

“i thought you said it was only mildly enjoyable just now?” grinning and looking at him through your lashes his cheeks become red

you guess he’s angry or something but that’s the usual with him

“yeah, whatever. i just wanted to play fair and apologise.”

“apologise?” oh wow, now your interest has really peaked because never in the past two years has he apologised to ANYONE

not even principal smith for the one time he flipped out and nearly cursed at a mouthy student at parent's evening

grimacing a little before he does it he finally speaks again.

“english is important. i’m sorry.”

your lips tug up into a bright smile

well???

this is a great interaction??

an apology coming out of levi ackerman of all people

“apology accepted! i’m glad to know you liked the book but now that we’re a tad bit friendlier with each other i wanted to ask for a favour.” your eyes gleam and he swears he can see specks of shining stars in them

“...okay, it depends.”

he’s warming up to you so he considers it

“please don’t cut into my lesson time levi.” his name slips out of your mouth but it’s so natural you don’t even care to correct yourself

“i’m sorry about that too y/n.” your name now ventures out of his mouth too as it tests the waters

wordlessly the two of you agree to first name basis

BUT more important matters are at hand such as how he’s issued you yet another apology?

this is satire surely

because why is he so willing all of a sudden...?

well, that's the power of pride and prejudice, wow you’re really thanking the heavens for blessing this world with jane austen’s existence

jane austen. a woman capable of remarkable things, she's even managed to make an unmoving book hater somehow become a lover

poking at your tuna pasta you and levi are now quiet.

“soooooo, any opinions on mr wickham?” you ask the question hoping to initiate a longer conversation than before

and luckily for you your attempt works

SUCCESS!!

levi pinches the bridge of his nose and the creases on his forehead show he clearly isn't particularly fond of wickham

“don’t get me started he’s so indescribably annoying?”

ok, ok, ok

you don’t even know how it happens but you and levi really hit it off

weeks have passed and you and him have even become lunch buddies

it was so shocking to moblit at first that he dropped his lunch on the floor when he saw you and levi enthusiastically exchanging words

then again, two mr wickham haters are bound to get along

you’re seriously wondering how the two of you ever survived as mortal enemies

yeah, you still disagree a lot but you’re getting there!!

sometimes he helps you out when your computer stops running and in exchange you’re willing to offer him book recommendations

he swears he doesn't want any recommendations from you but you know he enjoys it

yesterday he got microsoft excel out and showed you how useful it really was and you went :O because you never really understood the need for it at all

you’re a little bit of a granny when it comes to tech...

and just today at lunch you recommended he checks some plays out but his nose wrinkled at the mention of shakespeare so the both of you went through a long list of dramas and eventually you were able to interest him in j.b. priestely's an inspector calls

another victory for you!!

anyway, right now the two of you are sitting inside of the staff room seeing as it's that time of the month again.

time for the monthly staff meeting

it's the first one you've had since you and levi became friends and you're worried the both of you will be back at it butting heads

wait, are you friends?

well, you wouldn't mind if that were the case but to be honest you would like to be a little bit more than friends mayb-

no!!! no!!! no!!! stupid thought!!! you retract that statement immediately

no you do not want to be more than friends with levi ackerman, yes he's lovely to a degree but you are not going to elaborate on why it's a terrible idea to fancy him

okay wait, let's elaborate for the sake of elaborating

he's surprisingly charming and wittier than you thought he would be. the fun conversations are making your days now and to be honest it is nice to have someone to spend lunch with (hange usually skips out on lunch all together to tinker in the science labs and set up experiments)

wait... weren't you suppose to explain why you don't want to get with him?

you're an idiot and you don't notice how dumb you really are until everyone just kinda gawks at the both of you because it's so odd seeing you in the same room let alone within a three feet radius of each other.

fuck, you completely forgot you and levi sat at opposite ends of the room

principal smith enters and even he looks visibly shocked at the change in seats but he doesn't mention it and you're grateful he doesn't because you didn't purposefully sit here it just happened on accident

erwin turns in your direction and smiles

"would you like to start off with your proposition for extracurriculars?"

nodding your head you begin passionately.

"well, i'd like to say i don't think we offer the children enough. we have spare funding so why not open another club? cooking perhaps? i understand many of you may not understand the importance of teaching them how to cook but-"

"do you have an obsession for setting these children up for failure?" tensing up you notice it's levi who's spoke and he doesn't sound remotely happy

blinking once and then twice he realizes his tone isn't the best and he mutters an apology "sorry, go ahead i'll add in when you're done."

whispers travel through the room straight away

"did he just say sorry?"

"actually why are those two sitting together?"

"do you think they're you know...?"

miss ral who's sat a little further away is the next person to disagree with you

"i understand the intention but would it not be better to let them have extra math lessons?"

"oh, so you can get a pay rise?" the comeback you make is aggressive and dripping in displeasure

she sits up face burning up

"no- no- absolutely not i take pleasure in teaching all of my classes." flustered and trying to hide her nerves she takes a sip out of her water bottle

you want to pour all of the water out onto that ginger hair of hers

the reason why her interjection is getting on your nerves is due to the fact you overheard her and another one of the math teachers plan to bring this specific point up

and you are well aware that her reasoning behind it has nothing to do with the children

she couldn't care less about them

"do not make me repeat what you and mr bozado were chit chatting about earlier today."

the threat is enough to silence her and just when you think you've handled the situation levi has to give his input

"let's ignore petra's motivations and talk about how teaching these kids how to cook means nothing if they have no tradable skills to offer in the real world." levi's not looking at you. he's either too annoyed or too preoccupied with his thought process

at that moment you feel naive, you thought maybe he would try to understand your opinion seeing as he's been spending so much time with you as of recent but that looks to not be the case

murmurs of agreement fill the room at his statement and you feel pathetic

it's practically the entire room against you now

genuinely how is it these people can manage to be such spoiled sports about everything?

"recently, i asked all of my classes to write an essay about school stress. maybe you won't understand my views because you haven't read their pieces but they need a fucking break." the expletive flies out of your mouth without warning and you flush in embarrassment

that

was

not

professional.

"oh god, i'm sorry i got worked up i shouldn't hav-" fumbling over all of your words you feel even more mortified

the principal raises his hand signalling you stop and you clamp your mouth shut. you're in huge trouble that's for sure

but,,, in spite of the clear difference in opinion between you and the other teachers, soft and well spoken principal smith says the unthinkable

"i have the final say and i believe you are coming from a good place after reading your student's work. how would you feel about running the new cooking club?"

scanning his face for a second you can tell his question is legitimate and the wave of relief that washes over you has never felt better than ever

sighing contently you agree and as the topic of conversation shifts to something else entirely you sense your heart rate picking up

you feel like you're back to square one with levi.

it's yet another day where you’ve saved your students and you should be feeling overjoyed but if anything you feel a little deflated

you wish he would have come around and understood but you can't teach and old dog new tricks

again, the feeling of disappointment wears you down

two weeks have passed since then and your favourite time of year has come. it’s spring term meaning MACBETH

the english curriculum includes plays and it just so happens that today is your first lesson covering shakespeare

and you LOVE shakespeare

something about all the intricate foreshadowing always has you excited

but some children are missing

and it’s way too many to blame on sickness

so you wait for a few minutes but it's consistently radio silent

the last time this happened the culprit had been levi and he promised to never cut into your lesson time

but you could count on him to break his promise after the fiasco that was the monthly meeting

is he back to hating you and hating literature?

well, that's his loss if that's the case!! and no!! you will not upset yourself over the loss of the budding friendship

sighing you get to your feet making a beeline to the door but gabi and falco rush to stop you

awkward chuckles activated they wave their hands to get your attention “OH NO, they’ll only be five minutes!!” their sentence comes out as one big blur of words but you manage to understand them

now you’re doubtful because you know falco and gabi would usually ignore you and allow you to walk out

giving them a knowing glance the pair look between each other

their eyes are clearly communicating and asking if it’s alright to tell you

“i promise i won’t be mad.” you sigh

perhaps if you reassure them they’ll be more likely to spill the beans

“it’s not that you... i don't know. you might be upset.” gabi isn't one to care much for other's feelings so you're slightly anxious even though you shouldn't be

but you’re a tough nut to crack. so, absolutely not. you are not going to upset yourself over whatever it is

“i won’t be hurt. i’ve suffered through reading some of the most emotional classics to ever exist.” hitting your chest with your fist you wince a little because you hit yourself a little too hard

falco’s seems to be too shy to come out with it so gabi takes the lead as she normally does

“some students were talking badly about you so mr ackerman kept them behind to have a talk.”

oh.

yeah, actually you are a teeny weeny bit disheartened because you think you’re nice to all of your pupils but it’s nothing too bad, not everyone will like you

“if that’s all i’ll go get them. thank you for letting me know.” giving them two thumbs up you leave the class immediately

levi is probably scolding them to hell and back

not because he cares for you but because he hates disrespect in general

as you’re nearing the open door of his classroom you hear something you never thought would emerge from levi’s room

“final question. why does mr darcy say he doesn’t want to dance with elizabeth at first?” oh yeah, that’s levi’s voice for sure

an english question?

is he quizzing them on pride and prejudice?

you wait hoping your students don't fail you and are able to provide the correct answer.

“ummm... she’s not pretty enough!!”

levi hums “you answered all five questions right. do you all know why?”

you can’t see the children’s faces but they have to be confused if there’s no immediate response

he grunts in agitation “because your english teacher works hard to teach you every single day. have some respect because that teacher of yours is one in a million.”

taking your bottom lip in between your teeth you fight the urge to smile

“do you know how at every single staff meeting there’s only ever one teacher fighting for you all and what you want. i can assure you that teacher isn’t me, but i believe you can all guess who i'm talking about.”

your heart does a back flip in your chest and you feel jittery but in that really fuzzy good way

like that super duper fuzzy and hazy good way

he’s really very sweet for saying all of this and you're now smiling like an idiot

one pupil takes a chance to make amends “we’re sorry mr ackerman.”

but before levi can give them a response you clap your hands together and walk in unannounced

“apology accepted, now if you want to all be forgiven forever please return to class and answer the questions on the board!” directing them to the door with your hands you make sure they're conscious fo the fact you aren't mad at them

still, never have you seen them so eager to run off to analyze macbeth. you guess levi's deathly stare is the cause for it

holding back a laugh you clear your throat after the last student leaves

“thank you levi :-)”

it’s quiet for a second and you think to ask him about what has been gnawing at your mind

“you didn’t have to do that. you disagreed with me before so... why did you?”

“i say this at every meeting and you never listen but children need to be disciplined.” his unchangeable tone is unwelcoming

again it’s awkwardly silent and you sorta regret even coming over to see what was going on because now you and levi are just having an uncomfortable staring contest

then he scratches the back of his neck and heaves a heavy breath

“it may also be because i really fucking like you, but i look like an idiot saying that when we’ve been at each other's necks for two years.”

oh.

the sudden and brutally honest confession has the wind knocked out of you, you’re stunned

and then you get hit by it too. the realization hits you like rain hits umbrellas on stormy days. you like him too.

you like him for his witty sense of humour, his pure honesty and his hatred for mr wickham only serves as a bonus

yes, you have your differences. many of them. but you like him

he’s no longer a book hater and so by default you can fancy him. he goes against none of your guidelines essentially

you like him, he likes you back?’//’.;

[SCREAMS]

“well, what do you say? will you be this mr darcy's elizabeth bennet?” hearing the cheesy pickup line from him of all people has the butterflies in your stomach exploding in delight

“you sound weird, where's the grumpy math teacher from before?" now you and him are simply shamelessly flirting but HEY!! you have no complaints at all

he scoffs at your sarcastic question

"do you want the equation for a two dimensional heart on a graph beca-"

"can i just kiss you?"

wOWIE are you being bold today y/n???

thankfully you don't have to wait for his answer. levi’s right hand pulls your face in and he slams his lips against yours. he gives your waist a squeeze and you hold him tighter by the neck in response. he has a way of somehow making it all feel gentle and relaxed in the same breath

and... you know what? maybe you should have recommended pride and prejudice to him earlier

but oh well.

what matters the most right now is that you're kissing your mr darcy!!

and he’s kissing his elizabeth bennet

:-)

#levi #levi ackerman #aot #snk #attack on titan #attack on titan levi #levi x reader #levi x y/n #levi headcanons #levi drabbles #levi scenario #teacher levi #levi fanfiction #aot fanfiction #leviiattacks #attack on titan x reader #levi fluff #modern levi #modern levi ackerman

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cheelduh · 4 years ago

Text

How to tie up a cute boy

(Highschool Au)

Pairing: Childe x fem!reader

Parts: 1 2 3

Word count: 4K

Warnings: Swearing, Scaramouche abuse, no Signora slander this time, shit humour.

Synopsis: "Why are you doing homework?" Childe groans, rolling off to the side and kicking off the blanket to expose himself in nothing but a pair of boxers. "I'm literally right here, naked and defenseless. Why aren't you taking advantage of me?"

Note: Unedited yet again besties. Tysm for reading :) I got Childe after losing him to mf MONA, istg it was the most stressful moment of my life.

The clock ticks with its pendulum, ridiculing you as it holds the time. The gentle whirring of the air conditioning in the background serves as the icing on the cake to your pent up aggression.

You try not to glare at your phone too much after receiving a text from Childe that told you not to worry, that his dad picked him up and that he was in the comfort of his home, letting the flu blow over.

It took a lot of convincing from his part earlier that morning to get you to go back and actually attend the rest of your classes, making sure to check up on him every break plus the additional "bathroom breaks" you usually never take while in class.

"I can't let you get in trouble for me." He murmured with a small smile that pumped your blood a little faster than usual. "I'm fine, really. Don't worry your pretty little head."

You do exactly that.

You don't even know why you're so worried. He's sick, not dying. Not to mention, you aren't even his girlfriend let alone his friend to care so much.

Your intrusive thoughts don't waste any time. You latch onto the one thought that takes over. He's probably dead. Lying in his bed in a heap of pillows, passing peacefully while his parents are in the other room. He's dead.

Okay, he's not dead. You intrusive thoughts sure do one hell of a job. He'll be fine, and in no time he'll go back to being a reckless distraction in your life that you need to surpass. Just another obstacle to add onto the list of things life has thrown at you.

But for an obstacle, he sure is kind of cute.

You refrain from bashing your head on the desk. School isn't really a preferred environment on your list of top ten places to shrivel up and die.

Speaking of death and all that is evil, why is Childe always on your mind? He takes up every nook and cranny of your day, constantly, and truth be told it's starting to boil your piss.

Every time you close your eyes you see his smug smile, and hear his stupid laugh. He's an annoying little prick who gets a rise out of exasperating you. Yet here you are, terrified by the warmth that blossoms in your heart when you so much as hear his name.

The final bell rings at long last, conveniently before you bite your tongue to avoid screaming, and not another second is wasted once you launch yourself out the door. You dodge through the crowd of students in the hall that are buzzing in excitement from it being a Friday afternoon, and you would be too if you weren't so damn hung up over a ginger with a battlekink.

Locker in view, you make a beeline and spend the next two minutes fumbling with the lock in your hands.

"Woah there cutie," Lisa speaks up playfully. "At this rate you'll break the poor lock with your bare hands."

For a moment you're surprised at her sudden appearance, but then remember that it's normal for her to worm her way anywhere.

"It's just—this lock is being dumb okay? It has no reason being a pain in my ass but it wakes up every day and chooses violence." You hiss through your teeth, a sharp metallic ring invading your ears when you lose it and jostle the combination lock against the door of your locker.

Lisa winces, but smiles teasingly nonetheless. "Want me to give it a try?"

"Please."

Lisa has the door open at record speed.

"I love you Lisa." You confess wholeheartedly, gripping at your chest. "I love you so much—"

"Yeah yeah," She waves you off with a grin. "Now hurry up and go save your boyfriend from the common flu. Archons knows he won't make the night."

You flush at the word "boyfriend" and don't give much thought to the insinuation that lies within the rest of her sentence.

Sliding your skateboard under an arm, you spin on your heel just to bump straight into Scaramouche, who's won the scowl of the century on his face. He's the last person you want to see right now, but apparently the universe wants to have a pissing match with you.

"Give this homework to that idiot Ginger." He shoves a stack of papers into you. "Tell him that once he's done circling the drain, I'm gonna kick his ass." He then leans in, murderous glint in his eyes. "And if you ever touch me again I'll take a shit in your cereal. That's not a threat, it's a promise."

You shiver at the thought of him squatting on your Cheerios, hands becoming clammy as you try and justify yourself. "It was an accident."

Your pitiful excuse earns you nothing from the navy haired boy. "It'll be an accident when I murder your entire family, three generations over."

"Hi Mona!" You wave excitedly over his shoulder at the body of students that are totally not Mona. With elation he fails to conceal, Scaramouche turns to look at the speed of light.

You take the chance to make your escape—not before waving to Lisa, chuckling to yourself. He's down bad.

With great expertise you file your way through the flock of students chattering near the entrance. , you confidently place your skateboard down on the sidewalk, ready to—

Wait—where does he live again?

You sigh heavily, ignoring the sadness as you thank the universe internally for pulling the reigns on your disastrous plan. Checking up on Childe at his house? With his family present? Making a complete fool out of yourself? What are you thinking? The possibilities are horrendous. He probably doesn't even think of you like that, he just likes a challenge and you pose as one.

You turn away to make a run for it in the direction of your home, all the while ignoring the nagging worry in your chest for Childe. He's probably fine anyways, you don't need to check up on him, and if you did he'd likely find a way to spin it and tease you relentlessly.

Although somehow, the thought of being teased by him isn't as dreadful as you'd like it to be.

Suddenly, an idea graces you, one that guarantees your misery by sating your obligation to check up on Childe. A litany of curses escape your mouth. Genius really, the amount of ways you can think of doing something that'll end in your demise.

"Adeptus Xiao." You whisper apprehensively, already regretting your decision. "Adeptus Xiao." Glancing around your surroundings, you barely notice the shadow that looms over you at your backside.

"What do you want mortal?" Unbeknownst to you, he strikes out of nowhere, making you jump back several meters. You manage to muffle a surprised shriek.

Xiao is Venti's -6 ft boyfriend, the vicious epitome of an eboy. He has a scaled tattoo covering up the majority of an arm, a few piercing holes in his ears, all matched up with a disinterested look. Somehow, he always appears out of nowhere if you call out his name. It's sort of disturbing in a way.

His amber eyes pierce through you, forcing a shudder of fear and dread to lace your blood, almost as if he can sense you shittalking him in your head.

With shaky hands, you ask, "Can you tell me where—"

"No."

"You didn't even hear me ou—"

"No."

"Please?"

He refuses to at least pretend to think about it for a moment.

"No."

"Why?" You frown, stomping your foot on the ground childishly.

"Because." He retorts with a lack of interest, but doesn't further explain his point. English teachers must love this kid.

"Okay," You say slowly, casually inspecting his form as you come up with an idea, briefly remembering Lumine mentioning it to you. "How about I give you my share on almond tofu Tuesday."

The lack of interest on his face wavers slightly. Bingo.

"What do you want mortal?" Xiao mutters gruffly, arms crossed, face morphing into subtle annoyance.

You wrack your brain for a proper answer. You can't just outright ask him or it'll seem like you have a thing for Childe, which you unfortunately do, but you'd like to keep a semblance of integrity. Ah yes, the homework!

"I gotta deliver these to Childe." You outstretch the pile of worksheets in your hands. "Except I don't know where he lives. Can you tell me?"

Xiao's eyes glint with danger. "Did you summon me for the trivial task of giving you an address?"

You nod furiously.

"Do humans have no shame?" Its rhetorical. Expressionlessly, he closes his eyes with intent focus, doing what you assume to be locating Childe's exact location.

He blinks an eye open, reaches a hand out. "Give me your phone." Palm waiting.

You hand it over to him almost desperately.

One glance at your bubbly phone case and he doesn't even try to hide his distaste. He taps a few times, then hands it back to you almost immediately.

On the screen is maps, and Childe's home is about a fifteen minute walk away.

Your jaw drops in disbelief. "How did you do that?"

"Easy," He mutters, leaning back against the school gate as the remainder of students walk past the two of you. "Locating demons that need subjugating is but a simple task."

There's a pregnant pause. Demon.

"Childe's a demon?" You gasp, even though you've always had your suspicions. Hence the reason you invest so much in demon-cancelling charms.

"What? No." He mutters with a roll of his eyes, and you note that his irritation grows the more questions you ask. "I had a physics project with him last semester."

That's why the charms don't work.

Your mouth forms an o, in fear that if you keep this conversation going on any longer, he'll snap at you. Especially when your next line of interrogation involves how he's able to appear and disappear into thin air.

It's a magic trick you'll want to master whenever Il Dottore has another conniption fit in the middle of the hallways after Kaeya tells him he looks like he has skid marks.

"Thank you." You say instead, trying to preserve his regard, but by the time you meet his gaze he's already gone with the wind.

—

Childe's home is surprisingly humble, considering the amount of fat stacks of cash he carries around in his fanny pack so care-freely. It's a normal suburban home from what you can tell, a little bigger than normal with a double garage, neatly mowed lawn and a few forgotten decorations from the windblume festival. A series of water guns lay forgotten near the entrance, making their presence known when you stumbled upon them.

It's hard to remain unphased. Especially since such a normal looking home has bred someone as ruthless as Childe.

Maybe it not the home, you think. Maybe it's the way he was raised. You recall a few glimpses of his mother in middle school, but because of your worse for wear memory retention, you can't ballpark her personality type.

As your thoughts wander further down to his parents and early childhood, villain origin story and what not, you're pulled out of your concentration when the door opens. The possible implications of being here are most definitely not in your favor.

Childe's mother is a stunning woman in her mid-forties who sure as hell doesn't show it in that jaw-dropping sapphire dress, topped off with a brilliant smile that makes your knees weak. Like mother like son, you suppose.

With her sudden appearance, strangely enough, you can remember how good her tiramisu bites are.

You take a moment to respond, swallowing thickly, only to stare at her stupidly.

His mother doesn't waste another second before ushering you in, oblivious to your star-struck expression. "Y/N? L/N Y/N? My have you grown. I remember when you were only this tall." She lifts her hand up a little above her waist, the jewels on her fingers dazzling with every movement. "How is your mother doing?"

"She's doing alright, busy with the clinic." You're able to find your words, smiling back at her, able to get somewhat familiar with her warmth. "I hope I'm not intruding. Childe forgot some homework." You say, heaving the short stack up.

"Ajax?" She laughs, shaking her head in disbelief. "I can't believe he's going by that now. I wonder when this phase will be over. He may act tough but he's such a softie, has the biggest heart."

You, in between concealed emotions and giggles that threaten to leak, try to hide the oncoming grin but it's impossible. "Well he's got you to thank for it."

"You flatter me too much Y/N," She fixes the up do, pinning back the blonde hair that deftly frame her familiar cerulean eyes. "I can see why he can't stop talking about you."

Her words make you waver momentarily. The fondness you've refused to share, the drawn out stares in the halls, the lingering touches, you don't want to acknowledge it but it's there. Whatever it is.

"I'm so sorry for cutting this short dear," His mother sighs, grabbing her keys off the counter and placing her wallet in an elegant handbag. "My niece is getting married and we're already late. I told Ajax I'd stay if he didn't feel too well but he said he could handle a headache. That boy, I swear, always tries to power through."

You nod in understanding, but wait a minute. A headache?

Scrunching up your face, eyebrows furrowed, you ask. "Headache?"

She frowns, applying another layer of her rouge lipstick hastily in a nearby mirror. "I know dear, how unfortunate. The school nurse said it's a migraine, and I shouldn't fret much, but a mother can't help but worry. If only he weren't so stubborn, like his father."

As if on cue, a loud honk comes from outside.

"That must be him!" She exclaims, hurriedly sliding in her heels, turning back to look at your awkward figure. "Ajax is in his room, it's the second door to the right upstairs. I've made some lasagna for the kids, you ought to have some as well, I'll be upset if you don't—" Another annoying honk cuts her off, to which she scoffs, shaking a fist. "That old man, I'll strangle him in his sleep. I must be going now, goodbye dear." She reveals a twinkling smile at you one last time, waving a slim hand before picking up her heels and making a run for it.

The door closes with an unceremonious thud, gust of wind in its trail, leaving a bewildered high schooler in its wake.

Snapping out of your haze, overwhelming tides threaten to drown you whole. Being in Childe's home, alone, with him a handful of stair steps and a wall or two away, your cheeks are set ablaze.

Now that his mother's gone, you take a second to really look. There are a few toys littered in front of the TV, home covered in with soft throws and coordinated cushions, a lazy sectional plopped right in the middle. The marks on the furniture with all the stories, the light hued mismatched frames hanging on the walls and on all the table, so many pictures of those that resemble him, his brothers, his sisters, his family. You can almost hear the echoing laughter in the halls, the childish squeals and pitter patter of tiny feet slapping the hardwood floor.

This is where he grew up. This is where he retires to after a long day full of gratifying fistfights. This is where he was raised to be who he is today, ambitious and reckless, with the absurd dream to one day rule the world. This is his home.

It's...like being wrapped in blanket, safe and cozy, surrounded by all the love in the world.

Absentmindedly, your fingers trace the outlines of a younger Childe, two missing teeth and eyes full of dreams, hugging the side of his father's shoulder because his small arms can't wrap around them. Not just yet.

You make your way over to the staircase, which has even more frames littered across the wall, one that falls short of hiding the marks of a green crayon—another slice of domesticity you aren't quite accustomed to.

The reality sets in, and you come to a conclusion. This home is definitely not an environment for growing psychopaths, Childe just beats the odds like he beats up kids on the daily.

Your fist hovers over his door as you contemplate abandoning the sheets on a nearby table, but his mother was so sweet and polite, so incredibly hospitable, you wouldn't have the heart to make a run for it.

"I can see why he can't stop talking about you."

Three consecutive knocks. If he doesn't answer, you'll leave them at the door.

"Mama," Childe's muffled groans stem from the other side, and oh, you want to revel in the grave undertone of his voice because it's certainly not a common occurrence. "I told you I'm fine. You can go okay? I don't want you to be late, just need to sleep it off."

You blink, lips curling, and then knock again.

"Mama," He whines again, and it has you grinning mischievously. He's a mommy's boy, he has to be. The thought envelopes your heart with a newfound fondness. "Just come in and hurry."

You eagerly take in the room once you slip in, eyes scanning over every little detail, until they zero in on the heap of sheets smack dab on the single bed, a pair of feet dangling off the edge, topped with a comforter thrown over leisurely.

Childe's facing away from you, head dipped in between his shoulders, probably trying to find a position that's more comfortable. He's shivering, sweating at the same time. His mother must've been too preoccupied to notice. This isn't the first time he's used his exceptional bullshitting finesse.

"I can't believe you lied to your mother," You cross your arms, leaning back against the door.

With a jerk, Childe flings into a sitting up position, wide awake and aware of everything that is going on, a stark contrast from nearly seconds ago.

He blinks at you in shock, once, twice, rubs his eyes a bit, relaxes, then leans back, out of it completely. "For a sleep paralysis monster, you sure are kind of cute."

"For and idiot you sure are an idiot." You snort back.

"Wait a minute," He mutters slowly, jaw dropping. "You're actually here?!"

Ignoring his question, you opt to slap the papers on his desk to ignore your clammy palms. "Homework."

"And here I thought you came here all this way to be my personal nurse." He smirks, recovering from his momentary shock fairly swiftly. Doesn't refrain from giving you that shit stain of a bad boy grin, even with a flushed face and concavity under his eyes.

"I can be your personal mortician instead."

"I didn't know you were into role play babe, but I'll take what I can get." He winks, but is punished by a sequence of coughs that earn a wince from you.

"Headache?" You tease after he quiets down, but he remains as cavalier as always.

He sighs, sides of his lips still arched upwards. "My parents barely have any time to themselves, it's so hectic with the kids. What kind of son would I be if I couldn't even give them this?"

He must've threatened Barbara.

"You're," You inhale, briefly letting the silence hang between you two, mulling over what you wish to convey. sweet.

"Irresistible? Hot? Sexy?" He starts casual, arrogant smirk widening.

"Kind of not a complete asshole, is what I was going to say."

"Careful girlie," He narrows his eyes on you, playful lilt in his tone. The comforter is allowed to slip past his shoulders to reveal the goods that lie underneath, the complete naked chest of a post-puberty highschool boy who sprays too much axe. Full pectorals are something to pay for, stringed with smooth muscles that ripple their way over his toned shoulders. "If you keep teasing me like this, I can't promise I'll be the nice guy."

"One more time from the top," You bite back, avoiding staring at him for too long. "Without the congested nose this time."

With great expertise, he weakly throws a pillow at you, and you watch it exceptionally land at your feet, barely grazing the tips of your socks.

"Impressive," You whistle, not impressed.

He pouts, shivers, then is dunking his head back into the welcoming embrace of his plush collection of pillows.

With a sigh, you plop down on his chair, grab a pen and begin calculating derivatives.

"What're you doing?" He doesn't even turn your way, voice muffled.

"Homework," You reply nonchalantly, trying to calm your nerves. "unless you want me to get you something to eat, considering you puked out your gogurt on Barbara's shoes earlier. Congrats by the way, you're hit listed by her fan club."

"Why are you doing homework?" He groans, rolling off to the side and kicking off the blanket to expose himself in nothing but a pair of boxers. "I'm literally right here, naked and defenseless. Why aren't you taking advantage of me?"

He really has an IQ below room temperature.

Burying the formidable obligation to clock him in the face on behalf of society, you slowly get up to approach his bed, to which he grins widely in disbelief.

Apprehensively, you climb onto his bed, and he scoots over, excitement as clear as day. His hair's a wild mess from all the shifting, almost makes you want to card a hand through it. Your heart nestles it's way in your throat at the sight of his blazing blue eyes.

You pity him for what you're about to do.

"Relax Childe," You lean over him with confidence you never knew you had to begin with, face hovering inches before his. Your fists strategically grip the comforter on either side of him. "We have all day after all."

Although you attempt to pay no heed to his quivering hand that snakes up to find solace on your hip, you momentarily shiver at the tenderness.

He's eating this up and leaving no crumbs. Closing his eyes in anticipation, his lips tremble when he tries to close in the distance.

Abruptly, you cross both handfuls of sheets over his body, tying them securely in place to keep him docile. He struggles in your grip, eyes snapping open in surprise. "Wuh-What."

"Did you really think you had a chance?" You cross your arms, stepping back to get a good look at your handiwork.

"Honestly?" Childe huffs, struggles some in his restraints. "I wasn't really thinking."

"Typical," You scrunch your nose up, unscrunch, and then exhale. "You stay here and I'll go make you some soup. Well, not that you can really move but you get the idea."

"You're really going to leave me here like this?" He pouts cutely, melting you, and the sick bastard knows of his power.

"Relax," You wave a hand, "I may be evil but I'm not Scaramouche."

Meanwhile, Scaramouche sneezes as he tries to ask Mona out, falling straight on his ass from the kick back, making a complete fool out of himself. Mona doesn't mind though, finds it endearing.

Back at Childe's room, he raises a brow, expectant.

Going through the five stages of grief, you do something you've been wanting to do for a while, succumbing to the immense feeling.

Closing in the distance between you two, you suck in a breath and gently tilt Childe's head to the side. He blinks quickly, not quite expecting your sudden forwardness, about to say something that doesn't matter as soon as you place a tender peck on the side of his cheek.

Time stops, the world coming to a halt completely. A moment made in history, one you won't ever forget, fresh in both your minds from forward on.

And then you stagger away as if you've been stabbed.

"Soup!" You squeak, appalled by the sheer boldness of your actions. "I'll go make soup while you rest."

Childe, frozen, stares at you incredibly confused, and then beams.

Dear Archons, what have you done.

#genshin impact #genshin impact oneshot #childe x reader #childe #fanfic #genshin oneshot #kaeya alberich #dottore #genshin tartagalia #tartagila #lumine genshin impact #mona genshin impact #aether #barbara genshin impact #ajax x reader

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shookspearewrites · 3 years ago

Text

Freda (Ikevamp OC)

Hello my ducklings! I hope you’re all doing super duper today ^^ I’d like to introduce y’all to one of my Ikemen Vampire OC’s, Freda! I really hope you’ll like her as much as I do~

- JJ x

~~~~~~~~~

Name: Freda

Age: Early 20s

Original time: 2020s

Schooling: University education in Music and Theatre Arts

Occupation: Maid

Spoken Languages: English, Danish, German with some Dutch and French

Pronouns: She / Her

Sexuality: Bisexual

Height: 5’3” (Five feet and three inches)

Dresses time appropriately in the mansion: Sometimes- She much prefers to wear her clothes from the future though. She also wears makeup and her hair down in the mansion - An absolute Victorian no-no for a respectable lady.

Suitor they’d be interested in: Arthur Conan Doyle / Theodorus van Gogh

Positive Traits

Creative

Kind

Friendly

Romantic

Humble

Neutral Traits

Shy

Bouncy

Forgetful

Touchy

Vocal

Negative Traits

Impatient

Self-critical

Indecisive

Overly sensitive

Worrisome

Likes

Poetry

Afternoon tea

Animals

Cleanliness

Making things

Singing & dancing

Dislikes

Loud environments

Mess

Weirdly textured foods

Being scolded

Low-brow humour

Hot weather

Fears / Phobias

Conflict

Abandonment

Deep, dark water

Flying insects

Appearance

Freda has wavy, dark brown hair which reaches just beneath he shoulder blades. This combined with her pale skin, grey-blue eyes and oval shaped face make her a charmingly beautiful woman, though, she perceives herself as average looking.

She is short - at only 5′3″ tall, Freda is easily the shortest resident in le Comte’s mansion. Despite her small stature, she has long legs from dance training and perfect posture. She’s full chested with slightly broader than average shoulders and wide hips.

Fun Facts

Her life’s goal is to be a polyglot - To speak many languages. She probably asks nicely or coerces some of the suitors (Leonardo, Napoleon, Vincent & Theo) to teach her their native languages.

Freda needs glasses or contact lenses to see because he eyesight is awful. Comte often goes to the future to pick up her some prescription lenses because she is very dear to him.

She’s a soprano with a talent for singing. She, Mozart, Leonardo and le Comte would create some beautiful music together. Would harmonise beautifully with Leonardo given that he’s a bass. Freda can play the piano decently well - she’ll probably have Mozart give her some lessons.

Freda is a huge Disney fan and often sings Disney songs in lots of different languages, taking advantage of the great acoustics (le thermae, la salle, the ballroom, etc.)

She is a big fan of writing poetry and gives her pieces to Dazai, Arthur and Theo to read. Freda gets easily embarrassed so, if any of them were to outright compliment her writing, she’d begin to blush and stammer.

Freda is a talented seamstress and often makes her own dresses as well as fixing the suitors’ clothes when they get damaged. She makes everyone matching gloves and scarves for the winter.

She is very athletic and excels in figure skating and dance, mostly ballet and tap. At any given opportunity, Freda will convince Theo and Arthur to skate with her and even though he’s really scared of falling, Theo puts on a brave face just for her.

100% a dog person. Freda likes cats but, she’ll fall in love with almost any dog she sees and so desperately wants one as a pet - perhaps a chocolate Labrador. She immediately takes a shine to Vic and King and can often be found playing with them in the gardens or taking them on long walks in the cool autumn air.

Freda is a history nerd and will absolutely grill all of the suitors about their original time periods and ask them all about when they came from - Especially Shakespeare, Leonardo and Isaac.

She dreams of becoming a teacher one day and would love to help Isaac and Napoleon at their little school of they’d allow her to.

Relationship Headcanons

With Arthur Conan Doyle:

Freda is often awake before Arthur so, the first thing she does in the mornings is kiss his cheek and bring him a fresh cup of coffee to wake up to. When they see each other at breakfast, the pair can’t help themselves but call each other sweet pet names like ‘Crumpet’, ‘Poppet’, ‘Sweetie-darling’ - a fact that makes Theo cringe and hide behind his newspaper.

She is so eager to help him with his work that she is often found rushing around the library trying to find reference books that he mentioned fleetingly - Arthur will need to physically stop her at times, insisting that the books are not more important than her health.

Arthur constantly has Freda on his arm, escorting her whenever possible. Its not that he’s clingy - he’s just very protective of her as she has this ‘darling little habit’, as he puts it, of getting excited by trinkets at the market or flowers planted around the city and running off to admire them.

Freda and Arthur often accidently get their glasses mixed up in the mornings and end up wearing each others’ until they work out the reason that neither of them can see quite right is because they have the wrong glasses on.

Arthur is a tease, a naughty tease at that and enjoys flustering Freda whilst she’s working around the mansion. Most of the time, she just blushes and has to leave the room before the situation escalates though, sometimes Freda is able to get Arthur back and retort to his teasing confidently, leaving him blushing and hot under the collar as she leaves the room giggling.

If Arthur insists on working late when Freda is grumpy or tired, she’ll snuggle up in his bed with Vic, waiting for him to crack and come to bed to cuddle - it normally doesn’t take too long.

Freda is an avid gardener and Arthur is always eager to help her out even if he doesn’t really know what he’s doing. He’s so immensely proud and happy when he plants his first flower with Freda - a beautiful poppy which flourishes into a bright bush of flowers.

With Theodorus van Gogh:

They both have the love language of physical affection so, their relationship is full of loving hugs, tender kisses and gentle caresses. Freda likes to braid her hair before bed but, she often struggles to reach behind her head to plait her hair. Theo noticed this early on in their relationship and made it a habit to plait her hair for her before they both retire to bed.

Theo certainly wakes up before Freda does, circling his strong arms around her as he blinks the sleep from his eyes and mumbling sweet things into her ear in his thick, gruff Dutch accent made more prominent by sleep. Sometimes, Freda will catch his tender remarks and giggle, pressing soft kisses to his nose and cheeks when Theo blushes at being caught being so openly adoring.

The pair work really well together at Theo’s office - Freda loves to organise and categorise things so, Theo often entrusts her to help with his paperwork and with filing things away.

Freda tries so hard to improve her Dutch for Theo, learning from Vincent and from textbooks behind Theo’s back; Its not that she doesn’t want Theo to know that she’s learning, she’s just very shy and nervous of making mistakes in front of him. If Theodore does find out that Freda studies Dutch for him, he’ll confront her about it and insist that he become her tutor.

Theo knows it is a little silly but, he’s a jealous man deep down; so jealous that he gets jealous of Freda’s teddy bear, Lemon bear. It’s just a cuddly toy but, Theodore’s heart aches a little when he sees Freda cuddling with the bear, peacefully asleep on the sofa where she was no doubt waiting for him to come home. He’ll carefully lift Freda into his arms, careful not to wake her, and carry her to bed where he’ll remove the teddy from her arms and cuddle her instead. This earns him the nicknames ‘Teddy’ and ‘Theo bear’ from Freda which makes him blush like crazy.

One of the couple’s favourite activities to do together is dance - Theo is a hopeless romantic and Freda trained in dance so, it is really the perfect thing to do together. they particularly like to waltz around the ballroom late at night when everyone has gone to bed and the moonlight glimmers on the marble floor like it’s made of fairydust.

Picrew link: https://picrew.me/image_maker/227881

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