#Primary education at your home

[interteach00004]

Explore the Finnish Way of Primary Education from Home

Experience the brilliance of Finnish primary education from the comfort of your home with InterTeach! Embrace the renowned Finnish approach that nurtures creativity, encourages curiosity, and promotes a love for learning. Our expert educators are dedicated to providing your child with a world-class education that sparks joy and ignites their potential. Join us on this enlightening journey of discovery and exploration today!

[aboudalhaj]

Help My Family Escape the Devastation in Gaza

🚨Urgent Appeal 🚨

I am Abdullah Al-Hajj, 25 years old. I graduated from high school with big dreams of earning a university degree, but life took a different turn. Due to the difficult circumstances we faced, I couldn’t pursue my academic aspirations. Instead, I joined my brother in the field of chemical manufacturing, and I quickly learned the craft. It became the primary source of income for our family. Through this work, I was able to get married and start building my own life.

But everything changed when the war broke out in Gaza. The relentless bombings destroyed not just our workplace, but also every hope and dream we had built. The factory that had provided for our family was reduced to rubble. I found myself struggling to provide for even the most basic necessities—food, water, and medical care for my pregnant wife, who is expecting our first child.

As the war intensified and the destruction spread to our neighborhood, we were forced to flee to a safer area. We found shelter in a makeshift tent, which barely protected us from the scorching summer heat or the bitter winter cold. Life in the tent has been harsh, and survival has become a daily struggle.

My younger brother, Bilal Al-Hajj, always had big dreams. From a young age, he aspired to become a professional football player. Recently, Bilal graduated from high school and enrolled in university, determined to balance his education with his passion for football. His dream was to play for one of the major football clubs, a goal he had worked tirelessly toward for years.

But the war shattered Bilal’s dreams as well. The harsh realities of our situation—the struggle for food, water, and basic medical care—have made it impossible for him to chase his passion. The war has not only destroyed homes and buildings but also ambitions, hopes, and the future we once envisioned.

🎯Campaign Goal:

Your donations can make a life-changing difference for my family. We need to evacuate my family of six from Gaza, and the cost of permits and coordination to leave is about $5,000 per person. Once we reach Egypt, your support will help secure shelter and cover initial living expenses as we adjust to a new life. The ongoing siege in Gaza has made survival increasingly difficult, with skyrocketing prices and severe shortages of food and water. Your generous contributions will help us meet immediate needs and begin rebuilding our lives. Please consider donating through the link below—your help can offer us a chance for safety, stability, and hope.

Donation Link: https://gofund.me/40968e1f

Your kindness can give my family a chance to escape the devastation, protect the next generation, and reignite hope for a peaceful and dignified life. 

Thank you for standing with us in these difficult times.

Warm regards, Abdullah Al-Hajj

✅ My Campaign ✅ 🔍Vetted by @90-ghost here 🔍✅️Vetted by @gazavetters, my number verified on the list is ( #300 )✅️ here

[crookedfandomquill]

This is very situational, and sadly may not be realistic for everyone, but I need y’all to understand that a very important part of political activism is fucking talking to your conservative or moderate friends and family.

My dad voted for Trump in 2016. He’s a middle class white evangelical from Arkansas. He raised me with conservative Christian values, just like his parents raised him. When he voted Trump, he was holding his nose, but he didn’t feel too bad about it, and went on to vote red down the ticket in the 2018 midterms, as well.

But I started college in 2017. Higher education and independence changed everything for me, and I went home over holidays and summers with fire in my belly and a thousand arguments ready at the drop of a hat, to my father’s dismay.

I remember crying in my room after emotional, intense arguments with him. I told him over and over that I felt betrayed by his choice to vote for a man who admitted to sexually assaulting women, who built his platform on dehumanizing immigrants and the disabled, who spread overtly-racist rhetoric, who flouted the values of kindness and self-discipline that I’d been raised on. And my dad always had some justification about the “greater good”: fighting against abortion, bolstering the economy, getting other Christian politicians into office.

But over time, as we grew further apart and I lost my will to discuss anything with him at all, he softened. He started asking me why I thought the way I did about the things we disagreed about. He would listen to my answers without interruption, and mull them over afterward instead of expressing his own opinion. And all the while, he watched the Trump presidency become cruel and absurd and devastating.

The first time he openly expressed regret to me, I had come home for a weekend after Kavanaugh was confirmed to SCOTUS. My dad realized he had helped elect a man who preyed on women… and that man had opened the door to more predators. I can’t tell you what it felt like for him to admit that he’d made a mistake, not just in voting for Trump but in defending him for so long. We kept arguing, but it was more debating than fighting. I knew he was capable of seeing my side of things, even if it took a while, and he knew I wasn’t just a sensitive college student with shallow new ideas about the world.

And then 2020 hit. Specifically, George Floyd was murdered, and the events that followed played out on the national stage. My dad was incredibly shaken by it. He asked me if I had any books from college about racial issues. I loaned him The New Jim Crow, one of the required readings for my Race and the Law class. Then I gave him Just Mercy. Then he watched the documentary 13th. Then he joined a racial harmony group he learned about through one of the few Black families at our church and insisted our whole family come. He held up signs at a protest against Confederate monuments in our conservative southern town. In three years, he went from defending Trump’s comments about “Black-on-Black crime” to publicly advocating for racial justice and opposing the death penalty.

We went together to vote in the 2020 primaries. I couldn’t help asking who he’d voted for; I didn’t even know if he’d asked for the Republican or Democratic ticket. He admitted he’d voted for Bernie. fucking. Sanders, then made me promise not to tell my grandma he’d voted liberal. When the election rolled around in November, he voted Biden. I’m sure he held his nose to do it, just like he held his nose voting in 2016. But I know he doesn’t regret it.

I am, of course, unbelievably lucky to have a parent who loved me enough, and was empathetic enough, to choose his relationship with me over his strongly-held opinions. He kept searching for truth because, as much as he’ll deny it, he’s a very smart and curious person. No degree of intelligence or curiosity makes you immune to propaganda, especially if you were raised not to question the party line. It’s easy to dismiss our conservative, conspiracy-pilled loved ones as stupid, hypocritical, and cruel. Sometimes they are. But sometimes they aren’t. Sometimes they will bend to keep their relationships from breaking. Sometimes, if they can be made to understand that their beliefs and actions are harming someone they love, they will make concessions. And sometimes they just need one person in their life to put a foot down, to be vulnerable and assertive and argumentative, to bring the impact of their politics close to home.

As the most important election of our lifetimes approaches, do not put peace over progress. If you have someone like my dad, someone who is good-willed and smart and loves you more than their own opinions, tell them how you feel. Tell them what their choices will mean for you, for your friends, for your community. Tell them what they could lose: your trust, your affection, your respect. Don’t avoid conflict if it could be productive. Because my conflict with my dad didn’t just win him over–it won over my moderate mom and one of my conservative brothers. And it put us in community with other like-minded people and led my parents to a healthier and kinder faith.

All of this to say, there is hope in conflict. There is hope in our relationships with people who think differently from us. There is hope in exposing your fear and anger and pain to people you love. And hope is a form of activism.

[hoshigray]

Hellooo, I have a requesttt. Bully!Geto & bully!gojo x reader please!!

𝐚. 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: didn't know how to tackle this, but I think I got it >:3

⊹ 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: Geto + Gojo x afab/fem! reader - explicit content; minors DNI - modern au! college setting; satosugu + you are juniors - sex in shared space; college dorm - fingering (f! receiving) - breast fondling + nipple play - oral (m! receiving) - facials - clitoral play (pinching and swiping) - Eiffel Tower/spit-roasting position - slight degradation - pet names (baby, crybaby, cutie, good girl, plaything, pretty girl, sweetheart) - unprotected sex (doesn't shoot inside, tho) - mention of tears and drool.

⊹ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1.4k

“—Gaaahh!! N-Noo, shtop! No more, no mo—Oooh!”

“Aww, don’t go cryin’ on us yet; let’s see how much this pussy can cum!”

“Satoru, keep playing with their nipples; they keep gripping my fingers like crazy…”

Being bullied seems to be an everyday thing for a wimp like you—especially in the hands of Satoru Gojo and Suguru Geto.

What kind of person lets two of the hottest guys in the school bully them? You’re practically nearly a full-ass grown adult; you shouldn’t be letting people push you around like it’s middle school! And yet, you can’t seem to bring yourself to stand for yourself, too meek and reserved to step up the ladder of confrontation, even if it’s from people who’ve tormented you most of your life.

Gojo and Geto have been your bullies for nearly your entire academic life, starting from first grade. To say that your life was hell on Earth was just the surface, coming home in tears and wishing to disappear every single day. The emotional toil was too much to bear, so much so that you did everything in your power to make sure you didn’t end up in the same high school as the two, a task that you’re proud to act on as making friends and getting through the final four years of your primary education became easier to accomplish. 

However, this fulfillment was thrown out the window when you walked on campus grounds and discovered that after two years, your bullies had transferred to the same college as you! Not only in the same place but in the same dorm section and sharing the same class—had the world gone mad?! Just when you have accepted this new chapter in your life to start anew and fresh, these two spin back and the pool of anxiety swallows you back up and pulverizes your heart. There was no way for this situation to be envisaged.

“Ohaaa!! Shtooop, t’ooo fasst!!”  

And now, they have new methods to diminish your dignity.

Against your comfort, you and the two were assigned a spreadsheet to work on and have it done by Thursday, so you three were supposed to be working in the living room of their dorm apartment. Nevertheless, you don’t think lying on the couch with your back to Gojo and Geto between your legs has anything to do with the assignment…

You were squirming, Gojo’s slender hands cupping and fondling your chest, tips of his fingers tweaking your nipples roughly so that you whine helplessly. Legs spread open for your panties and bare cunt to be exposed when you were stripped from your leggings, and Geto toys your private part with his fingers. The sensation of his middle digit inside you was hard to believe, like the howl from curling onto the upper wall of your vagina.

“Uuuwww, ohmyGoooood…!” You throw your head back to the shoulder of the white-haired one whose forefingers circle the buds of your mounds. “W-We can’t be—hic—doing this…”

“Ehhh, c’mon, baby,” hearing Gojo talk to your ear so close has to be something out of a dream or nightmare. “Who says we can’t play with our favorite person, huh?”

You gulp at the lick of your earlobe. “Because…we have work to d—Aaahh!”

“Don’t think about that assignment when I’m busy shoving my fingers in you,” Geto reminds you, the pace of his digit increasing and the scrape of his fingertip having your toes curl. “Doesn’t the pretty girl wanna play us like old times?”

A hand grabs his wrist, yet that does little to hinder the raven-haired one’s diligence within your leaking chasm. “B-But…We can’t!” Jesus, it’s tough to think adequately the more Geto pushes and pulls his finger, brushing it up against your texture. Tears welled up in your eyes, your body sore from their constant touches.

“God, still cryin’ from being teased, huh, crybaby?” Gojo chuckles while cupping your cheeks. “Still a cutie, though…”

No way, there’s absolutely no way! You had to be dreaming because there is no way you’re awake to see the day Gojo is kissing you! Biting your bottom lip and shoving his tongue inside, your brain practically explodes as you moan in his mouth, and your slit contracts the rub of Geto’s finger. Did you just cum from a kiss?!

“Oh wow, they’re spasming like crazy,” Geto chortles at the sight of your legs trembling and your genitalia fluttering around the digit. “Cumming from a kiss, huh? Heh, so easy to mess with.”

Your response was deterred to that of imperceptible wails, crying into Gojo’s pillowy lips as he sucked on your tongues to hear you sob more. This was so unfair; this situation was not in your favor once you were dragged into their apartment.

Not even in the next phase of this meet-up.

Your clothes are discarded from your body to the living room floor, mounting on the couch on all fours, Geto to your front and Gojo to your back. The three of you are too far gone to think about the damn assignment—your frame too occupied by their cocks to evade them so.

Soapy lips suck on the dick of the dark-haired other, puffy cheeks making room for the limb burrowing inside your mouth. He fucks you orally with vigor, snapping his hips to your lips as your head pounds with every jab to the back of your throat. You’re not left with a second to breathe calmly, his girth overwhelming.

“Fuuuhhck, Jesus Christ,” he curses, grinding his pelvis and moaning at the feel of your tight throat. “Such a good girl, sucking me so well; got the mouth of a great cumslut.”

“Has the pussy of one, too!”

The words burn your ears, coming from behind as the guy with snowy hair plunges his length into your vagina. His hands are situated on your waist to keep you on him, the curve of his cock scratching your sweet spots too accurately that you’re forced to scream on the other’s shaft.

Gojo throws his head back with a sigh, “Fuckin’ shiiiit, this pussy…clamping on me so hard, you wanna milk me dry?” He bends down to your ear, “Want my load so bad like a little whore?” Squeezing on him was inevitable, making him hiss. “Fuck! Don’t do that…”

“Damn this throat, man,” you peer up to Geto. Your eyes have already released the tears stricken down your face, the lower part of your face all hot from the frequent hits. He chortles, “You look so good all messy like that, sweetheart…Holy shit, you looked so fucked out.” 

Of course you were; they’ve been toying with your body for ten minutes with no rest! Your frame was aching so bad, sobbing because of the cock busying your throat and the dick grazing your G-spot. It was too much to catch up with, especially when Gojo sneaks a hand to your clit to rub and swipe. Your eyes roll to the ceiling, and a scream is muffled, your figure submitting to the pinches on your sensitive pearl.

“Wanna cum?” Silver brows trench together at the clamp of your walls. “Do it, cum on my dick, you nasty crybaby.” 

More tweaks to your clitoris coincide with the erratic pistons of Gojo’s thighs, and you have no choice but to climax once more. Your cunt tightens around his cock with every hit of your orgasm, and he makes sure to get his raw cock out of you to ejaculate his milky fluid onto your back, painting your skin with his load.

The same goes for Geto as well, who grabs your head and roughly pulls himself off to paint your face with his essence. You whimper with every quiver and addition of his sperm, spurting to your forehead and decorating your cheeks to slide down your chin. You never felt so dirty in your life, your tongue accidentally tasting it from licking your lips. “Good girl,” he compliments with a teasing pinch to your cheek.

Gojo rubs his length on the cusp of your butt. “Man, cutie, you keep driving me crazy.” His fingers aimlessly play with your clit. “Now I really can’t leave you alone…”

Dread weighs your bones at his words, and you can only question how you can survive these upcoming semesters with these harassers. And now that they’re hooked on you, this fresh new start has become much more suffocating…

© 𝐇𝐨𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐲2024 – reblogs and comments are appreciated wholeheartedly ☆ header edit done by me + dividers by @/animatedglittergraphics-n-more.

[hamsternella]

maybe a sfw alphabet🤭 stanford!!

Stanford Pines SFW Alphabet

A= Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

Stanford is an eloquent man who always knows what to say on many subjects, as long as that doesn't mean he has to be clear about his feelings. And it's not because he doesn't feel it honestly; much less that he doesn't love you as intensely as you love him. It's just hard. It's that simple.

Ford would choose to show his affection for you with actions. Words are not going to be lacking, but showing you how he feels rather than saying it is much easier. So outside of shyness, this man is full of affection and tenderness; and always ready to let you know it. There isn't a day where you don't find his gaze full of love, with a smile painted on his face and his fingers trembling with the need to caress your cheek.

B= Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start)

Here is something to consider regarding three primary moments.

Arriving in Gravity Falls, Ford turns out to be an educated and interesting man. He is young, with a bright future and lots of fresh ideas. You meet him during a walk in the woods; it could also be outside a store, where you make conversation and help him carry his groceries. Be that as it may, you and Ford promise to meet again, and inevitably become very good friends. He enjoys a company to surprise with his discoveries, feeding his ego as a scientist and first-time researcher; and you find a place of comfort among books and secrets that fill your head with fantasies and stories. He is a trustworthy man, with a kind heart and good intentions. He is an extremely pleasant person.

During the construction and management of the portal Ford becomes paranoid and insufferable. He begins to become selfish, and even borders on narcissistic as his head fills with voices that lead him down strange and disturbing paths; his dreams destroyed as he seems to coexist with those who don't belong in his world. Needless to say, at this point your friendship with him fragments. Ford does not seem to trust you, and his words as well as his treatment of you are given with violence and bad taste.

Today, returning after so many years, Ford is a man weighed down by the miseries he had to suffer as payment for his past ambition. You find in his eyes the ghost of regret; and although it is difficult to completely forget the pain and mistreatment, it does not cost you much to reconcile to recover the bond that had been suspended in time. That Ford you missed, with his sweet eyes and sensitive heart, has returned. Your best friend.

C= Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

Ford loves to give hugs, although it's not something he recognizes as such. He does it almost unconsciously. Sometimes you are sitting on the couch or in his study, in peace, other times even outside soaking up the sun and watching the kids play; and you will find his arm hanging off the back, wrapping around your shoulders so he can find a space to rest or to feel closer to you. It is trust and affection that lead this man to feel at home with those people who are special to him. You are already family!

D= Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

The idea of settling down fits Ford like a glove. At first it's complicated, because all his attention and commitment goes to science. But if he can find someone who can fit into his lifestyle, the option certainly begins to feel possible.

Now... let's see. First you have to keep in mind that this guy has been lost in other dimensions for years. All he knows about recipes are abominations impossible to find in the human world. It's as simple as that. Despite this, Ford is quick to learn; so a recipe book, and some help, can get this guy to master the skill and make friends in the kitchen.

As for the rest, Ford is not a dirty man but a messy one. He understands himself, just the same. It's as if the mess works in patterns and guides him to everything he needs… that, or he just forgets and doesn't say anything so as not to embarrass himself. Whatever it is, someone help this man.

E= Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

It's hard for him, but he does it quickly and without spinning. Ford likes to get it over with as quickly as possible so he doesn't have to keep seeing your face. It's like taking a stab in his heart—the need to take you in his arms becomes dangerous.

F= Fiance (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

The idea of marriage doesn't enter his head until he meets someone with whom he feels he is entirely compatible. Other than that, Ford is a man who is not afraid of commitment in any form.

G= Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

Extremely gentle. Ford is a tender man, with feelings that hurt against his chest because of the intensity with which he allows himself to be affected by those he cherishes. Physically he can be clumsy, but he is gentle nonetheless.

H= Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it and what is it like?)

He likes them without a doubt. He doesn't ask for it much, though; but he accepts them without a problem. He always does it with a smile. He thinks the gesture is nice.

I= I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)

It takes him quite a while to say it without a problem. It's not that he doesn't feel it, it's that he just has a hard time with it. Chances are you'll end up saying it first, and eventually Ford will have the confidence to take the initiative and take you by surprise. As he does so his eyes twinkle, and the corners of his lips twitch with the birth of a shy smile.

J= Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they get jealous?)

Ford is not a particularly jealous man. If he does feel that way, he is likely to frown and look annoyed or uncomfortable. He would be embarrassed to admit that such an attitude was the result of a jealous rage.

K= Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

His kisses are slow and sensual. Ford loves to kiss you on the lips, forehead and neck.

For his part, he likes to receive kisses on the lips, on the back of his hands —which he considers a sweet gesture and appreciates greatly— and on the cheek.

L= Little ones (How are they around children?)

Ford tends to be a fun and sweet man around children. He's responsible, and you can easily tell he enjoys taking care of them. He tires quickly, though.

M= Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)

Despite having a lot of projects on his plate, not sleeping and, sometimes, not eating properly, Ford has an uncanny knack for waking up early. He does it with sleepy eyes; but always with a goofy smile if he happens to find you, the kids or Stan around the cabin. Always the tousled hair, the slow walk and the slightly hunched back—but that's okay! A good breakfast, a moment in the fresh air and this guy is ready to start the day! He does it quietly, though.

N= Night (How are nights spent with them?)

Although there is always something to research or do, Ford prefers to take a moment to enjoy a role-playing campaign, a movie or a walk with you if the evening is perfect to allow it. Sometimes the time is perfect to lie in bed, with a couple of hot drinks or sweet snacks, and some books. It doesn't matter what; but Ford has to spend the nights with you if you're there. There is no way to miss a moment that is special to him.

Hopefully you get to spend some family time with the others, too!

O= Open (When will they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or do they reveal little things slowly?)

Many of his secrets, or special details, are things Ford has told you long ago. After his return from the portal, it will be difficult for him to continue to share many others with you—but it's not impossible.

If you meet Ford after his return from the portal for the first time in your entire life, it's going to cost him three times as much. It is assumed that in this case you are new and that leads to distrust, fear of rejection and ridicule.

P= Patience (How easily are they angered?)

Not so easily. Ford is patient.

Q= Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every detail or forget the minor things?)

Does he remember your favorite flavor? But of course. Does he remember that day, on that date, back then, more than ten years ago...? But please, of course he does. This is Ford we're talking about; this guy does role-playing campaigns, runs his own library on alien languages, and has even gone so far as to learn the colors you don't like about the candy you two eat on movie nights. He always sets them aside for you to eat in peace. He always remembers.

R= Remember (What is their favorite moment of your relationship?)

To have met you. To run into you was to have given him the opportunity to have an amazing person like you in his life. That day surpasses any other discovery—coming to Gravity Falls, and seeing you with his own eyes. You are now a part of his life; every day is an ideal moment. In the bad, and in the good.

S= Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? how would they like to be protected?)

Ford keeps an eye on you whenever you accompany him on his quests deep in the forest. He is more than ready to fight to keep you out of danger, using his weapons or even his hands if necessary. Taking care of others is a priority.

But speaking of himself, Ford wouldn't know exactly how he would like to be protected. Maybe have his life saved if he finds himself cornered; but it would be difficult considering his experience. It's difficult if he has someone on the side to look out for, of course. If that person is also experienced, then he would like to fight side by side. It would be fun.

T= Try (How much effort do they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

A lot of effort, although it is quite clumsy and in the end requires the help of someone else to put his ideas in order. If it's about his feelings it's hard not to lose his head in the process.

U= Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

Despite being a sweet person, Ford can become quite inconsiderate when there is something he wants/desires very much, and in turn there is someone in the way to reach that goal. From hurtful or uncomfortable words, to acts that go so far as to make you feel abandoned. It's as if there's a button in his head; something that transforms him into a silent, dark and detached man from the real world.

Also, Ford can end up being very overprotective; and even have narcissistic attitudes for which it is better to walk away for a moment so as not to start a fight. It's not always.

V= Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

Not too much. The most you've seen him struggle is with his beard. Ford prefers to incinerate it for an instant tidy look... and not so safe, though.

W= Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

In the beginning, yes, definitely. It would take Ford years to get over your loss, and there would even come a point where he would have to accept living with that pain if he can't fill the void, or understand that you're not coming back.

If he were to overcome it, there would be times when homesickness would hit him hard; but he could go on with life as usual. Ford has suffered enough losses already—one more shouldn't stop him in his tracks.

X= Xtra (A random headcanon for them)

Ford can sleep anywhere, and in almost any position. It's a skill he's acquired over time. Sometimes it takes you by surprise to arrive at the cabin at night, and find him fast asleep in corners that make you feel as if you're going to wake up with an intense pain in your neck. It is enviable, especially at his age.

Y= Yuck (What are some things they wouldn't like, either in general or in a partner?)

Violent, delusional, crazy and demonic people. Especially if they happen to be creatures from some other dimension with anger issues.

Z= Zzz (What are some sleeping habits of theirs?)

If you put your shoulder near him, chances are Ford will eventually drop his head on it. Sometimes he even goes so far as to intertwine his fingers with yours.

[illdowhatiwantthanks]

can you write a fic where emily is on her period, annoyed at work, irritated, and really needy but is lowkey embarrassed to ask reader for relief? reader basically then calls her silly and tells em she loves her always and then helps her? and heavy smut takes place

(reader also works at the bau)

thank u!! - and no problem at all if u don’t feel like writing this <3

I got u, anon! ❤️ Hope you enjoy! – illdowhatiwantthanks

Touchy

Emily Prentiss x fem!reader Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI, graphic sex, fingering, afab body parts, menstruation, explicit language (let me know if I've missed anything!) Word count: 2.7k

Summary: You and Unit Chief Emily have had a secret thing going on for a while, but when she starts lashing out at you and the rest of the team, you suspect something's wrong. Turns out, it's something you are very capable of fixing. 😏

Emily sat hunched over a book that she clearly wasn’t reading, massaging her temples. She’d been touchy this whole trip. Touchy with the rest of the team, with local law enforcement. Thank god JJ was in charge of dealing with the press, or she would have been touchy with them, too. And now she was touchy on the jet.

Usually on the last night of a case, when the end was in sight or when you were headed home in the morning, or even on a night where she was frustrated that they hadn’t made progress, Emily would come to your room. She’d knock softly, in the dead of the night, slip into your room, into your bed, into your very body. And she’d be gone before your alarm went off in the morning.

You’d waited and waited last night for Emily to come to you, watching the minutes go by, then hours. You knew you hadn’t made any plans, nothing concrete. There was never anything concrete when the BAU was out on a case. But, nevertheless, you missed her. You missed the warmth of her body next to you, the way you’d talk and laugh about nothing while she sat in bed, naked, and smoked a cigarette after she’d thoroughly fucked your brains out. You missed the way she’d vent to you about the case or tell you something personal, something she wouldn’t tell anyone else, as you fell asleep together, tangled in some random hotel’s sheets.

You’d been seeing each other for months now and, outside of work, had some semblance of a typical relationship. But at work, you were just an agent and her unit chief. Friendly colleagues, at most. You and Emily were always careful to appear impartial. And you were profilers, so you were pretty good at avoiding tells that your relationship was more than it seemed on the outside. But you were worried about her today. She was angry and irritated and… not herself. You were trying to figure out a way to ask her what was wrong, but you couldn’t figure out how to move seats to be near her without arousing suspicion. Not to mention the fact that Emily would never tell another member of the team that something personal was going on. So she couldn’t tell you. Not here, not on the jet.

You tried not to look too interested when Reid sat down across from Emily, playing with the string on his sachet of green tea. “Are you okay, Emily?”

She made a noncommittal sound of affirmation, then muttered. “Just a headache.”

“You know,” he started, and you could just tell he was prepped for an educational monologue. “Headaches are simultaneously one of the easiest and one of the hardest medical maladies to solve, depending on their cause. There are over 50 reasons why one might have a headache, usually categorized into two overarching categories: primary and second–”

“Reid,” Emily snapped. “I am begging you to shut up unless you want to become one of the 50 causes of a headache.”

Reid shrank into himself, and you immediately felt sorry for him. Sure, he could come off as a know-it-all or annoying, but he was goodhearted and kind and smart and cared about the team. It wasn’t like Emily to belittle him.

When you’d all debarked from the plane and made your way to the parking lot, you waited for the other cars to peel out before approaching Emily’s. You tapped on her window and she rolled it down for you.

“What?” she growled.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” you asked, voice full of concern. “You seem off.”

“I’m fine,” she stated. “God, I wish people would just fucking leave me alone today. And stop asking all these questions.”

You were taken aback, hurt. You weren’t “people.” You were, for all intents and purposes, her girlfriend, everywhere but at work.

“Well, um…” you stuttered, unsure how to proceed or respond. “Do you still want to come over tonight?” She almost always did the night after getting back from a case.

“Y/N,” she groaned, massaging her forehead. “No offense, babe, but what part of ‘I wish people would fucking leave me alone’ did you not get?”

You felt like crying, but you’d be damned if you were going to let Emily see it. “Whatever, Em.” You shook your head. “I’ll see you on Monday.”

You watched Emily zoom out of the parking lot and, once she was gone, you let yourself cry. At least it wasn’t just you she was upset with; clearly she had it out for everyone right now. But still… Emily was usually different with you. She was softer around the edges, kind and thoughtful, a little bit silly. This wasn’t like her at all.

The more you thought about it, the angrier you got. How fucking dare she blow you off like you were no one!? She’d been rude and dismissive and snappy and weird with everyone this whole trip and, dammit, she was not going to get away with being like that to you, too. Either something was wrong with her or something was wrong with the rest of you that had pissed her off. Either way, you were determined to figure it out. So when you sped out of the parking lot, teary and determined, you headed not to your apartment, but to Emily’s.

You knocked angrily on Emily’s door until she threw it open, looking as pissed as you’d ever seen her. “Y/N,” she said, frustration evident. “I told you I didn’t want to see you.”

“Yeah, well,” you said, pushing past her and into the apartment. “Sometimes you don’t get what you want.”

You poured yourself a glass from the open bottle of wine she had on the counter and took a sip. Emily stood across from you, still massaging her temples and looking generally annoyed.

“What, Y/N?” she groaned. “What do you want?”

You set your glass down so aggressively the wine sloshed a bit. “What the fuck is wrong with you, Emily!?” you railed. “You’re being so mean and so… not yourself. Is something going on!?”

She sighed heavily and lowered herself into a chair and, for a moment, you thought she might cry. You surged toward her and tucked her hair behind her ear, holding her face, softly, delicately, in case, as she had all day, she decided to pull away again.

“Honey, what’s wrong?” you said softly, your thumbs lightly tracing the circles under her eyes.

Emily leaned into your touch and you knew she was finally there, finally at a point where she’d stop fighting and let you in.

“I’ve got fucking fibroids…” she mumbled, avoiding your eyes. “And I’m on my period and… they’re always bad, but they just make it so much worse.”

“Em,” you sighed, letting her rest her head on your chest. “Why didn’t you just say that?”

“It’s embarrassing…”

You furrowed your eyebrows. “Periods aren’t embarrassing, honey. They’re just a part of life. A shitty part.”

When she didn’t answer and kept her head buried in your chest, you started playing with her hair. “What do you need, huh? What’ll make you feel better? Do you have pain meds? You want to take a bath? Lie down for a bit?”

Emily pulled back and looked away, shrinking into herself.

“Hey, don’t start that again,” you scolded, taking her hand.

“Babe, just tell me. What do you need, hmm?”

She mumbled something under her breath, so quiet that you couldn’t catch it.

“What?”

“I need you to touch me,” she whispered, blushing furiously. “But that’s not fair of me to ask.”

You smiled, relieved. This is what Emily had been so frustrated about!? You chuckled and leaned forward to kiss her head, her cheek, then sunk your lips into hers. You felt elated by the way she grasped your shirt, the way she pulled into you.

When you broke apart, she was breathless, her pupils blown, but she still looked so deeply embarrassed, almost ashamed.

“Come on,” you said gently, leading her by the hand toward the bathroom. “And to think this whole time you were just really fucking horny.”

You turned on the shower, made sure it was the right temperature, and started stripping your clothes off.

“Wait, wait, what are you doing?!” Emily asked, leaning against the bathroom counter.

You stared at her. “What do you mean what am I doing?”

She gestured at your now nude body, as you folded your clothes into a messy pile.

“I’m getting in the shower,” you explained. “And you’re getting in the shower, and then I’m gonna make you come.”

If possible, Emily’s face reddened even more. “Uh… no,” she protested. “No, no. Did you miss the part where I said I was on my period?”

You gestured toward the steaming shower. “Did you miss the part where we’re in the shower so it doesn’t matter?”

“It does matter,” she argued. “I don’t– I’ve never… It’ll be messy, Y/N. I don’t want you to have to–”

You stared at her, mouth slightly agape. “You’ve never had sex on your period?”

She looked at the ground. “I… I mean, I guess I’ve never been with someone who… wanted to.”

Your heart broke then, just for a moment. For sweet, needy, embarrassed Emily, hugging herself in the corner of the bathroom.

“Well,” you said, approaching her and slipping your hands under her shirt. She gasped as you bent to suck on her neck. “That’s their loss.” You lifted her shirt over her head and unclasped her bra, quickly taking one of her nipples in your mouth. She moaned and sank her fingers into your hair. “I can assure you that I…” And you planted a kiss on her chest. “Very much…” You gently unzipped her pants and placed a kiss there, just below her stomach. “Want to.”

Emily pulled you back up and kissed you hungrily, desperately, as she kicked off the rest of her clothes, pushing you into the shower so she could discreetly remove her tampon. You pressed her up against the cool tile, letting the warm water rush over you both. It’s not that you were normally rough with Emily or vice versa, but you were careful to be particularly gentle with her tonight, knowing that her body was sensitive and in pain.

You kissed Emily slowly, deeply, making your way down her neck, across her chest, tracing slow, indulgent circles around her nipples as she let her head rest back against the tile. You could feel her heart beating underneath your tongue and it drove you wild.

When you crouched to move lower, holding yourself steady against her thighs, she pulled you back up, eyes pleading with you. “Just your hands. Please.”

You brushed a wet strand of hair off her forehead. “Are you sure?” You smirked. “I really don’t mind getting messy.”

“I know,” she replied, still breathing heavily as your thumbs drew circles against her hips. “But I mind.”

“Whatever you want, honey,” you breathed into her ear as you ran your fingers through her warm folds.

Emily shuddered and pressed her head into your shoulder, bucking involuntarily into your hand. You let your thumb idle around her clit, slow and rhythmic and gentle, until you had her panting and whining against you.

“More,” she begged, and you happily obliged, softly pressing two fingers into her pulsing entrance. You picked up speed as she pressed into you, her breath high and hitched, with small noises of effort and pleasure echoing around the shower.

“Wait, stop,” she gasped, even as she thrust into you. You stilled your movements, and waited for her to tell you what she wanted. “I feel like I might collapse,” she gasped.

“In a good way or a bad way?” you asked, both of you giggling.

“A good way, but…”

“Here,” you said, moving her arms so they were wrapped around your neck and inching forward so that your thigh was between her legs. You wrapped your free hand around her waist and planted a kiss on her neck. “I’ve got you, okay? I’m not gonna let you fall. Just let go, baby.”

Emily didn’t need any more encouragement, riding your fingers as if her very life depended on it. And when she finally reached her peak, when she finally let herself fall apart, nothing in the world could have made you let go of her. You held her up as she shook, her walls pulsing around your fingers, her mouth wide and warm against your shoulder.

“There you go,” you whispered, bringing her back down and planting fluttery kisses wherever you could reach as you held her steady. She shook against you, holding onto you, and when she finally found her way back to her feet, you kissed her again and again, all over.

“Feel better?” you asked her, cupping her face in your hands. She nodded and wrapped her arms around your neck in an embrace and, for a while, you just held her there, hot water pouring over you, heartbeats dwindling back to a normal rate.

“Thank you,” she said, her voice vibrating against your skin. She stood and looked at you apologetically. “Sorry I was such a bitch.”

You shook your head and kissed her again. “It’s okay. Everyone’s a bitch on their period.”

Your heart was in your throat as Emily let you wash her, let you lather shampoo into her hair and rub soap gently across her body, making sure she was clean and cared for. She was so soft under your touch, so soft and pliable, such a contrast to how she was at work with everyone else. She always acted so tough. And she was tough, but she could also be so soft. You loved that she was soft for you.

You dried her off, you kissed her shoulder, you told her to go ahead and get in bed, that’d you’d be right there. And when you returned and found her in bed with wet hair in an oversized t-shirt, you were struck by the realization that you never really wanted to go to bed with anyone else. That what you’d really like is to be in bed with Emily every night. Not just random nights on the road. Not just after the dates you spent at places you chose because it didn’t seem like any other member of your team would be there. You loved her. You were falling in love with her.

You handed her the glass of water you’d prepared in the kitchen, and thought about how not to accidentally tell her you loved her. She sipped gingerly at the edge of the bed and looked deeply at you.

“What?” you asked, shrinking under her gaze.

“Do you want to stay here?” she asked.

“Duh,” you replied, already climbing into bed next to her. “I always spend the night after. And we don’t have work tomorrow.”

“No, I mean…” She picked at her fingernails, avoiding your eyes. “Do you want to stay here… for good. Like, would you want to move in?”

You felt like the breath had been knocked out of you. “Are you serious?” you asked, gaping at her.

Emily shook her head. “Forget it. Sorry. It was a stupid question.”

“No, no!” You grabbed her hand and held it between both of hers. “I just… I didn’t know what this was for you. If you wanted to… keep it casual, I guess.”

She sighed and looked into your eyes and you knew then, you knew that whenever it slipped out, whenever you were ready to say it, she would say it back. “I haven’t been casual about you for a while now, Y/N.”

And you kissed her. You kissed her again and again, kissed her until she was giggling and squirming, until you had her wrapped in your arms under the covers.

And when she reached to turn the light out, when she curled into your body, you let your words venture out in the darkness, soft and quiet, almost imperceptible: “I love you.”

And like a light, her voice, vibrating against your skin as she fell asleep in your arms: “I love you, too.”

[deadsetobsessions]

Tim had forgotten, in his one man (and the admittedly liberal usage of hired guns) crusade at everything that had hurt his family, that he was technically a child. A time traveling 21 year old Tim Drake in his younger body, sure, but he’s still a nine year old child.

Tim was violently, unpleasantly reminded of this as he opened his front door to… Gotham Primary’s truancy officer.

Oh shit. He still had to go to school. Tim scrambled for an excuse.

“Hello, Timothy. Are your parents home?”

“Uh- no, sir. Only my nanny. I’ve been really,” think, Timothy, think! Are you Red Robin for nothing? “really sick. She went out for some medicine.”

Tim knew what the officer saw as he looked down at him, a pale, drawn little boy who looked like a sickly Victorian child. He has no idea that Tim had the beginnings of lean muscles and strong grip strength underneath his baggy clothes.

“I see. I’ll have to talk to your nanny, then. We need to be informed of when you’re ill, Timothy.”

“Oh. She-” shit, shit, shit! “Doesn’t speak English.” Was that racist? That felt racist. Gods, he probably sounds like a snobby classist elite. “I’ll let my mom know to email you, sir?”

The truancy officer sighed. By Tim’s lucky stars, he agreed. The man pulled out a singular paper from his plastic folder, clearly used to this kind of thing, especially from the elites of Gotham, and said, “Email the school. And have her sign this note, please.”

Tim nodded seriously. Like hell he would.

When the officer was gone, Tim closed the gate immediately. He had forgotten to close it after getting back home from stalking the Bats last night. Well, Bat, singular, because Jason was still benched.

Tim sighed, grabbing a pen to fluidly forge Janet Drake’s signature on his paper about truancy and proper procedures and what not. Then, he moved to the computer, easily stealing his mother’s credentials, emailing the school about his sick leave, and their decision to have him home schooled.

He’d miss Ives, but honestly, Tim needed the free time. Plus, maybe this way, he’ll graduate high school this time around. He drafted another email to the counselor, asking them what kind of curriculum and tests he needed to pass to obtain future degrees and what not.

He gets an email back, with all of the testing required and the steps “Young Timothy” should take in order to succeed in the rest of his academic career. Tim would like to point out he’s nine, and that this was pretentious. Helpful, sure, but pretentious all the same.

“That’s what people don’t mention about time traveling. It’s all fun and games until you get hit with the mundane and tedious things.” Tim muttered, setting up his appointments for testing. He’ll have to find someone to drive him to the tests…

His mind turned to his neighbors… hm. That’s a possibility.

Tim wiped all traces of his activities from his mother’s email, doing a quick and hidden bit of rerouting to get any educational emails regarding him sent to his own inbox.

Tim swigged a mouthful of coffee and continued on his merry way.

His new goal?

Find Cassandra Cain.

[natailiatulls07]

Can you do reader is Lando’s little sister and favourite but they barely see each other cause reader is at boarding school and she surprises him at the race. Also cameo of some other drivers too please.

Lando Norris x sister!reader

Summary - Request above xo

Warning - Like one swear one

-

During her last year of primary education, Cisca and Adam both sat their youngest child down and discussed the possibility of boarding school. 

Both knew it would be hard for the whole family to separate. Yet they both also knew that it would make their lives a lot easier. 

With Landos up and coming career in motorsport racing and the rest of their children's careers also slowly building up, neither parent wanted to deprive or abandon Y/n. So with her agreement, they enrolled her into a well reviewed and well known boarding school a few miles out of Bristol. 

Laurence Crawford Boarding.

The first few days, of course she was homesick. Missing Lando more than anyone else in the family. Of course. But eventually Y/n made friends and was becoming more and more independent by the day.

-

“Hey Mum!” The young girl giggled down the phone. She was in her shared dorm with a few friends when Cisca called. “Annie! No stop! Ew!” 

Cisca took note of her daughter's divided attention, taking an easy guess that she was hanging out with a few friends. “Hi sweetheart, am I calling at a bad time?” Even though neither could see each other, she had a warm and proud smile on her face just thinking about how far Y/n has come.

The innocent giggle down the phone grew quieter and quieter. Y/n was walking away from her friends. “Sorry mum, yeah I can talk. We were just having a games night in my dorm…” Ciscas heart just warmed, happy that her youngest child was growing up and maturing.

“Oh no worries, go and hang out with your friends! Have fun!” And with a couple goodbyes and a ‘I love you’ between the two, Y/n was back hanging out with her friends. 

-

Unlike her younger years of boarding, Y/n hadn’t been home from school on the weekend in a long while. She couldn’t; especially with her exams quickly approaching, she was in her dorm studying and revising most  weekends.

This meant the youngest Norris hadn’t seen her family in a few weeks. Of course she had spoken to them but hadn’t been home since the end of January, and they all understood why. It was harder for some to swallow that pill - well harder for one person particularly e.g Lando.

The Silverstone grand-prix was just around the corner and all he wanted was for his youngest sister to be there. Yeah it was selfish but he missed her, to be far the last time the two saw each other was early January. He missed her so much.

“Are you sure you can’t just take the exam early and then come and support me?” His rough voice rang through Y/n's phone whilst she was highlighting her revision. Lando wasn’t even trying to hide his annoyance.

A gentle laugh followed by a sigh was heard from Y/ns side of the call. “I’m sorry Lan…I can’t ask them to move the exam, it’s against the rules of the exam board…”

She didn’t have an exam that week actually, she was lying. Y/n was going to be in Silverstone that sunday. It’s just that Lando didn’t know, oh no it was a surprise.

What he thought was happening was that everyone else from his immediate family would be there, except Y/n. 

Everyone was in on the surprise. All excited to see the pair reunited. Surprises were always one of the things the Norris family loved to do.

-

Y/n - Good luck today! I’ll be juggling revision and watching the race, I hope to hear our national anthem pleaseee  Lando - Thank you angel, don’t wear yourself out Y/n - I should tell you the same thing

Lando thought she’d be tucked away in her dorm room whilst they were texting back and forth. A vast contrast to her current location; in the passenger seat of Oliver's car. The sun was shining through the windshield and down over her bare knees.

Y/n was wearing a white summer dress, some comfortable trainers and her signed mclaren 4 cap. Looking ready to spend the day in the British summer sun supporting one of her older brothers. 

She was smirking. He really had no clue about this. “Okay so he thinks I’m still at school, oh my god I can’t wait!” 

With her gcses, Y/n hadn’t been to a race in a long time and she missed it; watching from her dorm was not the same. In her dorm, she didn’t get that real excitement that would course through her like it would in the McLaren garage.

Looking over to Oliver, he was also smirking. Just remembering how he had to deal with Landos sulking and the clear signs that Y/n was by far his favorite. “Yeah he’s gonna be so happy when he sees you!”

-

Once they arrived, Y/n was quietly escorted through the back way to the McLaren garage. They couldn’t have the press ruining the surprise. Luckily for Y/n, her spot in the garage couldn’t be seen from anywhere Lando would be.

She stood between her parents whilst her other three siblings stood on either side Cisca and Adam. “I’m so excited!” When she was handed her headset, the girl got even more excited because she could hear her brother's voice through the radio. 

He had yet to win his first grand prix and she hoped he would get to that top step of the podium, especially at his home race. And hopefully without him knowing she is here, he will focus on that exact outcome. 

-

It was a hard race, lots of action and stress. Something Y/n liked, she hated a boring race - this sport was about racing, not riding cars in the same positions in several circles. But the most important thing to note from this race was the number four McLaren parked in front of the number one place in Parc Ferme.

The papaya garage was very much in celebrations, including the Norris family. Turning to face her mother with tears in her eyes, she noticed how Cisca also had tears in her eyes. “He did! He did!”

Adam, who is also over the moon with the win, takes her hand and starts to lead her over to the Parc Ferme to surprise the driver. Reaching the Parc Ferme they stand waiting amongst the McLaren staff and up against the barriers.

Lando pulls himself out of the car and makes his way to celebrate with his team. It’s only when he moves to give Adam a hug that he notices his little sister and he gasps. 

“Y/n?” He can’t believe his eyes, he thought she was back in her boarding school revising. 

Immediately the driver breaks from his father's embrace and races to collect Y/n in his arms. The two siblings were laughing and crying together. Finally reunited after a long time, in their opinions. 

After a few seconds, Lando moves to collect her face in his hand gently - trying to see if his eyes are deceiving him, they weren’t. “I thought you had an exam!” He shouts over the cheers around the two of them. 

Y/n just smirks cheekily and shakes her head. “Nope! Surprise!” Soon her smirk turns into a groan when Landos hand moves to mess up her hair, laughing breaking out between them once again. 

Everyone saw. The cameras around Parc Ferme all broadcasting the reuniting of two siblings who just missed each other. “You’re such a little shit!”

Shrugging her shoulders, Y/n smiled. “Everyone was in on it! Our family loves a surprise!” So when Lando turned to look at his father, Adam just nodded - Happy to reunite two of his children.

-

[mochinomnoms]

If requests are open...👉👈

I was thinking of a scenario, you know how Yuu was isekai'd pretty late into the educational track (US High School/UK College kinda late), that's a lot of years of basic education that their missing. I can imagine them getting tutoring from say, Riddle, Azul or even Jamil (though if you can think of anyone else in this scenario, go nuts) and he just...kinda makes a comment about like, "How can you not know about The Chess Wars, Yuu? This is Primary School level stuff"! Or something and Yuu just...loses it on him. Kinda in a "Do you have ANY idea how smart I am to be keeping my head above water when Grims dragging it down, I've got YEARS of schooling to catch up on AND my job working for Crowly!? Let me ask you about any part of MY worlds history and see how smart you are"

Or something. This has been an idea in my head for a while and words are hard today...💦

(I write NRC a college/university level so that's how this will be written as)

“This is basic history! Really Prefect,” Ace never failed to make fun of you, and lately he'd been focusing in on your abysmal grades. “Even Juice knows about the Chess Wars! And he's skipped like, all of middle school!”

Deuce glared at Ace kicked him out from under the table, though Riddle actually seemed to agree with him.

“I do have to admit, Ace is correct. Prefect, even students like Ruggie and Epel know the basics, this is inexcusable of a student of Night Raven College!”

Riddle had his arms cross, tapping a finger on his arm impatiently as you looked off to the side with a blank expression. Grim was, to no one's surprise, asleep in their lap.

Of course, Grim's 'responsibility' were the magic based classes. The Prefect had, literally, everything else.

“…Well? What do you even have to say for yourself?” Riddle narrowed his eyes at them, huffing.

“.....Back home I was smart, you know.” It was a soft mumble, barely audible, which made Riddle angrier.

“Speak up! You're not a child, you can enunciate—”

“—I was smart, Riddle! I was really fucking smart!” A sudden bang of your fists on the table startled the other three and awoke Grim.

“W-w-wha—wha' happ—”

“I had my school paid for with academic scholarships! I was awarded on the Dean's List for being one of the best students at my old university! I bet if you came to my world, you'd have just as much trouble, maybe even more!”

You jabbed a finger at Riddle, growing louder and louder in your self-righteousness.

“You don't know about the world wars! You don't know about our ancient history and gods! You're great at alchemy, but I bet you'd be getting yelled at by my version of Crewel for not being able to recognize the periodic table! I mean, can you even understand my position? Or do you guys just like having someone to look down on to make yourselves feel better!”

At this point, your voice was echoing in the library, the steps of the librarian growing louder as he approached you.

“You know what? I don't want your help, I don't think I want to even be around you guys! Not if you're going to belittle me for being forcibly plucked from the only world I've ever known into your shitty own! Deuce, I meet me at my dorm if you get tired from being around two condescending asses!”

Before the librarian could kick you out, you'd grabbed your things and marched out, ignoring his chastising as you marched out of the building.

Riddle was, of course, incredibly red. Though, his lips were pursed in a way that made it unclear if it was from his usual rage, or from guilty embarrassment. Ace looked baffled, clicking his tongue and pouting.

“Geez, it was just a joke…you know it was, right Deuce?”

“I mean, I kinda get what they're saying…”

Few wanted to admit that they did get a bit of satisfaction in being 'smarter' than someone else, and that you were the easiest target for that. Plus, no one wanted to admit that they forgot that you came from another world. It was a reminder that you'd have to go back eventually.

Gossip from that conversation spread like wildfire among the student body. Riddle was, of course, embarrassed and giving a gentle talking to by Trey after hearing about it from Cater. Though, he wasn't nearly as gentle to Ace, who didn't have the grades to back up his talk. Deuce did his best to support you in his own way, which was mostly sharing the notes and feedback he'd gotten from Riddle, at least until you were back on speaking terms with him.

Some of the other students started approaching you after a little while. Offering you a spot in their own study group, letting you ask the 'stupid' questions without those extra snide comments, though some of them have to remind themselves to shut their mouths. It takes awhile for you to talk to Ace and Riddle again, but once you do and resume your study sessions, Riddle is softer and Ace just a bit kinder.

[wasteddmoondust]

teacher || james potter

pairing: james potter x reader 863 words, preschool teacher au, james is a single dad (not for long...?), kindergarten teacher!reader, gender neutral reader, harry is her student so you know how it goes a/n: sorry this took months i have been in the slumpiest slump ever. hope you enjoy :,) I'm not too sure about how preschools fair in other countries but this is mostly based on my own experiences!

"Mr Potter! Lovely to see you today."

James walks into your classroom, and it's humourous to see you seated in a chair and table meant for six-year-olds.

He smiles at you and waves. Unfortunately, you're swooning on the inside.

Yes, it's unprofessional to have a crush on a parent, let alone the parent of one of your beloved students. Very unprofessional, actually. But you can't help but be enamoured by his looks. He looks exactly like his son, Harry. Messy hair and gold-rimmed glasses.

Or maybe he's just one of the only few parents who are the same age as you. And it doesn't help when you know he's a single father and always strikes a conversation with you whenever he has the chance to. In your head, maybe it wouldn't hurt to make a move.

"Of course, I'm happy to be here today, though it's the last time," he says as he sits down in an identical tiny chair.

You know you have to push these thoughts aside, because this was the last parent-teacher meeting for your kindergarteners who will be graduating in a few weeks. No matter your feelings, your job was to tell parents how their child has faired so far in their education.

You take a deep breath and fix your hair. "Okay, let's get started."

You adore Harry, a joy to have in your class. He is very friendly and communicates very well with his peers and teachers. He actively participates in class. He is developing well in the different aspects. You explain everything in layman's terms so he can understand, and he nods along, listening.

"Needless to say, Harry's definitely ready for primary school. If you'd like, it would be great if you continued his learning at home as well, before he officially starts school." you finish, nodding at James. You unconsciously bite the inside of your cheek, knowing that it won't be long until you'll never see this man again.

"That's great," he says, looking up from Harry's portfolio from over the year. "Harry really appreciates you as a teacher, you know? He always loves coming to school."

You smile at that, it warms your heart. "I'm glad to hear that. I'll definitely miss him when he graduates."

There's an awkward silence between the both of you, not particularly knowing what to say. You both nod and look down. You know it's the end.

"Well..." you start. "If you don't have any more questions, that will be it. Thank you so much for joining us on this journey, Mr Potter."

"I do have- um- a question?" he says abruptly. He suddenly seems more fidgety and nervous, gripping the binder of Harry's portfolio.

"Um..." he scratches his head. You look at him expectantly. "I appreciate you as Harry's teacher, of course. He always says that you're very nice and pretty... I also think you're very nice and pretty..."

You nod along, trying to keep your cool by controlling your facial expressions.

He continues, his shoulders slowly rising in a shrug. "So if you'd let me, we can meet outside of school for once," he spits it out quickly like he's ripping a band-aid off.

Blinking slowly, you process what just happened. "Did you just ask me out?" you ask, eyes wide.

His eyes dart to the side and then back at you. "Yes," he says.

"Mr Potter-" you start.

"Please, you can call me James-"

"Your son is my student."

"He won't be by next week."

"It will be very unprofessional of me-"

"I don't hear a no, though..."

And you're both in silence again. You sigh and bring a hand to your face, resting your chin on your palm as you look away from him. You try to think of your next move.

Aside from all of the consequences that may occur, this is a golden opportunity. Your teacher life always gets so hectic and you barely have time to go out and meet people. If you miss this chance you may never get to have one like it again.

You bite your lip and accept whatever fate may come.

You speak in a hushed voice, willing that no one hears this conversation. "Fine, yes. I'll give you a chance. But if anything goes wrong, my priority is my job and yours is Harry. Got it?"

James let out a breath that almost sounded like a laugh. He looks up at you with sparkling eyes. "Yes, okay. I will-"

He's cut off by a knock at your door. Your colleague opens it and her head pokes into your classroom. "Hi, sorry to interrupt, but the next parent is waiting outside," she says. You nod at her and she leaves. You stand up, and James does too.

"Well, this is... unofficially goodbye, Mr Potter. It really has been a pleasure teaching Harry," you say, stretching your hand out for a shake. He takes it, and his hand is warm.

You mutter quickly to him, "My contact is in the binder."

He grins at you, childlike, and you watch him leave your classroom with a wave. You wave back, smiling.

You sincerely hope you won't regret this decision.

a/n: RRRAAHHH i really hope to make this a mini series of some kind because i have the softest spot for kids and i start being a real teacher in a month! asks are open if you have any thoughts <3 thanks for reading!

[crsssie]

childhood best friend!Simon Riley bc. just bc.

cbf!simon riley who you've known as your neighbour since forever — walking home with him in primary, working through homework in secondary, watching as he tells you he's off to the military with little to remember him by outside when you choose higher education

cbf!simon riley who pinched your cheek in primary and never lost the habit, leaning back with each hug to pinch your cheek gently and smile at your huffing as you roll your eyes whenever you meet up

cbf!simon riley who has flowers sent to your place every birthday because you mentioned it once back in secondary, writing back to your letters while away in the few moments of rest he has, yellow roses with scattered white and pink, eventually leading to a more red-heavy bouquet over the years, handwriting something only you find legible when you slice open the mail

cbf!simon riley who insists on crashing your place when he's back because "closer" and "comfier" while you kick at him to tell him to at least shower before crashing the guest room that's long been his only

cbf!simon riley who cooks when he's back, up earlier than you are anyway so he might as well, right, luvie? Hope you don't mind. You're too tired for it anyway

cbf!simon riley who remembers everything you've said in passing. collecting empty bottles. liking having something to bite and chew. liking those specific brand of lollies. your favorite flavor of cough drop. anything you've ever loved, simon knows

cbf!simon riley who does a horrible job at hiding that he likes you, but it doesn't seem you mind at all, bringing back his favorite dish when you go without asking, everything that he has ever liked memorized by you because you love him too

"Brought home dinner!" You call. "I know you didn't start cooking yet."

"How'd you know?" He loosens the apron around his waist, hanging it up as you unpack the takeout.

"You start cooking around this time, and since I haven't gotten home yet, you'd probably wait to ask me what I want since you didn't text."

"'m that easy t' read?"

"No. Just noticed." You crack open the plastic as he settles down next to you on the island, and you place his preferred dish closer to him as you hand him a cap to eat from, humming as you start serving yourself.

"What's the occasion?"

"Nothing. Just wanted takeout." You grin, starting with the food. "Thank you for the flowers too, by the way."

"Mhm."

"You wanna tell me something about all the pink that was there instead of the yellow?"

"Don't know what yer talkin' 'bout." He avoids your eyes, staring to the side as you glance at the pink on his ears.

"Not gonna confess your undying love to me?"

"Ya wish."

You sigh dramatically, going back to your food with a pout.

Simon glances at you as you completely zone in on the food. He can do a better confession than just flowers.

You deserve a better one anyway.

[stormz369]

☕💖 Can I Get Your Number? ☕💖 Ch 24

Jason Todd x (f)Chubby!Reader

written with a female reader in mind, first person pov, no use of Y/N, will probably get NSFW later, let me know if there's anything else I should tag this with!

warnings/labels: little bit of trauma talk, but otherwise a light chapter! wc: 2.1k

Chapter Selection

Damian handed me a large manilla envelope as he came through my door. “Father said to give this to you.”

I frowned, opening it. The first page was an employment agreement. For ‘services to the Wayne family' I was being offered a salary of $120,000 a year for the duration of my education, and a signing bonus of an additional $10,000 up front. Under that was a paper with the name and number of a friend of Bruce's on the board at Gotham University's medical program, and a scribbled note that he was expecting my call. And under that was a pile of pamphlets and booklets on the medical program at GU, with specific details and classes highlighted.

“... Well, he's nothing if not thorough.” I shrugged, setting everything aside and pulling out the ingredients to start on dinner.

“What is all that?” Damian grabbed a snack from the fridge. 

“Just some paperwork; I’m thinking about going back to school.”

He nodded, getting set up at the table to work on his homework. “... Father also mentioned you're going to be the primary contact at my school?”

I nodded; “is that ok with you?”

Damian looked over at me. “... Yes, that’s fine. … Do I bring you the papers they send home then?”

“Yeah, I can take anything they send home.”

He nodded, pulled out a flier for spring semester PTA sign-ups. I took it, reading it over. “Looks like PTA meets on the first Monday of every month during last period. Maybe we can make a day of it!”

“... Do what?” He frowned.

“I'll come for the PTA meeting, and then Jason could pick the both of us up, and we'll get dinner before we take you home.”

“... You're joining the PTA?”

“Yes, I am.” I smiled brightly.

Damian frowned, eying me suspiciously. “... Why?”

I shrugged. “Why not?”

He watched me for a minute; “... You just … want to spend an hour a month with the parents and teachers at my school?”

“Let’s just say I’ve learned not to trust those people to treat their students right. I want to make sure they remember who they’re dealing with.”

“... Alright.” He nodded once, going back to his work.

I prepared dinner, humming softly to myself. Eventually, Jason knocked on the door, and I went to let him in. He smiled softly, kissing my forehead, and took a seat at the table. “... Babe, what's this?”

I looked over, he was looking through the paperwork Damian had brought. “Ah, I was gonna talk to you about that tonight. … I'm thinking about going back to school.”

“... Medical school? … And what's this about ‘services rendered to the Wayne family'? What services?” He frowned, looking up at me. I popped dinner in the oven and went to the table.

“... Should we go into my room to talk?” I looked over at Damian, who was staring at us.

“... Ok?...” He frowned a bit and I offered Jason my hand. He took it, following me to my room.

We sat on my bed, Jason still holding the paperwork. He looked through them, a confused frown on his face; “... What's going on?”

“... You said you were more comfortable than usual when I took the blood sample. Right?” He nodded slowly; “well, that night I was thinking about it … about your scars. … Bruce said you don't let anyone treat you unless you’re brought in unconscious?”

Jason nodded again, frowning deeply. “... I … I have a hard time trusting strangers with medical equipment … and I don’t like going to the Batcave for treatment either … they’re … they know what they’re doing, but … I don’t like the look on their faces when they have to treat me … makes me feel … ill.”

I nodded. “Well, I know some of your scars bother you, … and they wouldn't be so prominent if you were able to get proper treatment when you get wounded. So, I was thinking I could get the training to be able to do that for you, if you think you’d be comfortable enough for that?”

He blinked a bit, frowning. “... You … you want to get trained to- … why?”

I gently squeezed his hand, stroking his knuckles with my thumb. “Because you need someone you feel safe getting medical treatment from. You deserve to feel safe. And if I can help you with that, I will. … I don’t want you bleeding out in an alley somewhere, or trying to dig a bullet out of your own shoulder, or who knows what else, you know? … I love you, Jason, I want to help you.”

He frowned, squeezing my hand tightly. “... I … I don't know what to say…”

“You don't have to say anything right now. We don't have to decide this today, it's just something to think about.”

“... What about the ‘services rendered' part?”

“Well, if I get this training, I'll be able to act as an emergency clinic for the others too.”

“Oh. So, Bruce is going to pay you to be our medic?”

“Basically. That way I'll never be at the diner when you guys need care. I'm also joining the family's Thursday afternoon training sessions.”

Jason nodded slowly, pulling me into a tight hug. He sniffled softly, mumbling; “... I … I didn't want to pull you into this world…”

“If you’re in this world, I’m in this world.” I cupped his cheek gently, kissing his forehead. “I want to be able to protect myself, and I want to be able to help you, and Damian, and the others. I will not be dead weight, and I will not watch you suffer needlessly.”

“You wouldn't need to be able to defend yourself if it weren't for me…”

“It's Gotham, my love. Self-defense classes are probably the most popular type of extra-curricular activity in the entire city for every age group.” I stroked his hair, holding him close.

“... I guess … but I hate that you're in extra danger because of me…”

“I think it balances out; I'm also extra secure because of you. Who'd be stupid enough to knowingly fuck with Red Hood's girl?” I smirked a bit, running my hands through his hair.

He frowned, holding me closer. “... Only the worst of them.”

“And they'd fuck with anyone for any reason anyway. So it doesn't matter.” I cupped his cheek, rubbing the tips of our noses together. “I'm happiest and safest with you, and we'll deal with the consequences together.”

“... I wish things were different. … I wish loving me didn't come with consequences…” 

I sighed softly; “well, we could always leave Gotham. Start over somewhere else…”

“... Can't do that…”

“I know you can't. So, we'll just have to play the cards we've been dealt, right?”

He sighed softly and nodded, kissing my shoulder. “... Not gonna let anyone hurt you, baby. Promise.”

“I know you won't.” I hugged him tightly. “I know you wanna take care of me. And I wanna take care of you too.”

He nodded slowly, wrapping his arms tighter around my waist. “... Ok. … Th- thank you, baby… thank you…” I nodded, hugging him tightly. He sighed softly, kissing my jaw softly. “... Wait a minute, how much is Bruce offering you? …”

He picked up the paperwork, frowning deeply. “Oh hell no. Don't sign anything yet, I’m gonna renegotiate this for you.”

I giggled, kissing his neck. “It’s more than I make now.”

“It’s insulting. $120,000 for an on-call doctor? Is he trying to piss me off? No, if he’s gonna pay for this, he’s gonna  pay you a fair fucking wage!”

“Well, I’m probably not going to get a full doctorate; I only need to know enough to take care of your day-to-day medical care. More like … a field medic. He's also funding my education, is going to pay for any supplies I need, and has the connections to get me into the medical program with no questions asked. I think it's fair.”

Jason groaned, pulling me closer. “... I get to renegotiate after you're done with school.”

“Deal.”

Mrs. Webster frowned deeply as I took a seat in the auditorium at Damian's school. She slowly approached, holding a clipboard. “... What are you doing here?”

I smiled brightly; “this is where PTA sign ups are happening, isn't it?”

“You're not a parent.”

“Ah, no. But I am one of Damian's adults, and Bruce has made me the primary contact for school related concerns, so I thought I might as well get involved. I'm very … passionate about Damian's education, after all. As I'm sure you remember.” I smirked, watching her nose wrinkle. Eventually, she thrust the clipboard into my hands, and I signed up, providing an email address and phone number.

“... You won't be able to bully the PTA into doing things your way. I hope you know that.” She frowned.

“Fortunately I have no intentions to bully anyone. I do have a habit of calling out any bigotry I run across, but that shouldn't be a problem anymore. Right, Mrs. Webster?”

She very nearly growled as she stormed away. A few of the moms that were mulling around stared at me, but that quickly stopped when I waved to them. I thought I’d be left to my own devices, but soon enough, an older couple made their way over, sitting near me.

They introduced themselves, shaking my hand; “Which one is yours, dear?”

“Damian Wayne.” I smiled softly.

The woman blinked a bit. “You're Damian Wayne's mother? … Oh, forgive me, but I thought …”

“No, no! I'm a big sister.” I chuckled softly. “I don't even know who or where his mother is, I'm kind of a new addition to the family.”

“I see. Well, it will be nice for him to have someone getting involved. Our Sarah is in many of the same art classes as Damian, and it's always so sad to see him on his own at the after school events.”

I nodded. “That's exactly why I'm here. He was so pleased when I offered to come to the art show last semester, I want to see him happy like that more often.”

“Oh, that was quite the event! Did you hear? We didn't see it, but apparently someone threatened Mrs. Webster!” The woman cackled softly. “Such an unpleasant woman…”

“I wouldn't say I threatened her, just made her aware of certain facts. Including the fact that I am one of Damian's adults now, and she isn't going to get away with spewing passive aggressive microaggressions towards him while I'm around.”

The man chuckled; “that was you? She's been in a tizzy ever since!”

I smirked a bit; “What kind of tizzy?”

“Just insufferable. Our Sarah says she's been more harsh than ever in class.”

“I'm so sorry. I wasn't trying to make things worse for anyone…” I frowned deeply.

“Oh, you aren't responsible for her behavior, dearie. She's always been a rude one…” the woman gently patted my hand.

“Sarah has her troubles. You know, mental health stuff. All the kids seem to nowadays…”

“And Mrs. Webster, well … she doesn't ‘abide by that nonsense’.” She scoffed.

“And of course there was the instance with the lesbians.” Her husband frowned slightly.

“The lesbians?” I frowned deeply.

“This sweet little girl with lesbian parents last year. Mrs. Webster met her mothers at a parent-teacher conference and apparently started treating the girl … well, different. … They moved over the summer, I do hope they're doing better now…”

I frowned deeply, watching Mrs. Webster on the other side of the room. “Hm… so she's not just racist, she's ableist and homophobic too. Gross….”

“She's never said anything overt about anything, nothing worth bringing up with the administration. But she's a … vexing woman.” the woman sighed.

“Well, … maybe individually they're not big things worth mentioning, but together they make up a big pile of nasty. … Do you know anyone else who has ‘small’ problems with Mrs. Webster?”

“Oh, maybe a few people… it's really not worth bringing up though.” She waved her hand dismissively.

“Yes, it is. We should bring the numerous ‘little things' to the administration. Establishing the pattern of behavior will be important to getting justice if they know about anything bigger. And no matter what comes of it, it's important that the kids see that their adults will stand up for them.” I frowned.

“Well … I supposed it wouldn’t hurt to talk to the other parents at least …” The husband frowned, looking to his wife. She nodded slowly.

“We’ll talk to the other parents.”

I nodded; “here, let me give you my phone number. Feel free to share that with any parents who have a problem with Mrs. Webster; I have no problem being the squeaky wheel with the admin.”

They nodded, putting my number in their phones. Mrs. Webster and a few other teachers started the meeting a few minutes later, and I sat back to observe.

Next ->

Divider by: @saradika-graphics

Taglist (open): @jawdropforkpop @krys0210 @snowy-violet @superthoughts @wordsfromshona @mystic60 @iwannabealocalcryptid @morstuavitamea-a @frosty--giants @arisa191 @prized-jules @phoenix666stuff @dinonuggysandhuggus @anuttellaa @whore-of-many-hot-men @cottage-worm @v1ckycheesue @roastyyytoastyyy @sarakmec

[spockandawe]

Straw marquetry! Okay, full disclaimer up front, i still barely know what I'm doing here. This is a craft with limited educational resources, and a lot of the inspiration pictures are from high-end french ateliers. But those pictures are SO pretty, plus the cost of buying a bunch of straw is much gentler than the cost of buying a bunch of wood veneer, and the shiny finish activates ALL the corvid instincts in my brain

The rough idea here is that you split and flatten stalks of straw, glue them to a substrate, square up the edges while the glue is still wet, and continue onward. If you want to pursue marquetry in the wood tradition, you can escalate to cutting pictures out of this and piecing them together (fundamentally, if you can't buy your own veneer, homemade is fine), but you can also do a lot just with geometric patterns and the natural color variation of the straw right on your working surface. I have a bunch of fancy empty frames i idly want to fill, so that's what I went with! Also I decided to make my own mat for ???? reasons, ahahaha

My frame opening was about 22x28 inches, so this was a lot of surface area for a first project! But I learned a lot along the way, things like 'oh my god why would you start from the outside instead of the inside' and 'wow small motifs sure are easier than big ones,' but that was part of the goal here! It's hard to identify the things you don't know without wading in and getting your hands dirty. And I had SUCH a fabulous time with this. I ran out of my primary color five triangles from the end, and had to order more, and you know I ordered additional straw for future projects

I might be starting one as soon as I post this, honestly. Because this one is done! It doesn't have a home on my wall yet, I'm still considering locations, but it's all nice and cozy in its frame and I love it so so much. And I'm including a short video showing off its shine, because no still image is ever going to fully do it justice

[intersex-support]

Intersex Support Resources

Intersex 101: 

http://4intersex.org/#yourself

Intersex Organizations 

Intersex Organizations by Country 

Intersex Variations 

Intersex Variations Glossary by InterACT

Intersex History, Art, and Politics 

Compilation Post

Intersex Flag 

Morgan Carpenter on the Intersex Flag

Intersex Surgery 

“I Want to be Like Nature Made Me” Report from Human Rights Watch

Intersex Human Rights by Bauer et al, 2020

Legal Discrimination 

US Anti-trans bills also harm intersex Children by Human Rights Watch 

Intersex Legislative Toolkit by InterACT

Medical Records

InterACT Guide to accessing medical records

Intersex Health

Intersex affirming hospital policies from InterACT

Intersex affirming Primary Care from National LGBTQIA Health Education Center

Intersex and osteoporosis from Intersex Support Australia

Sexual Health 

Intersex Inclusive information for Sex Ed from Puberty Curriculum

Scarleteen Sex Ed

What Intersex People Want you to Know about Sex by Maddie Rose

I’m Intersex. Here’s How That Affects My Sex Life by Mark Hay

Intersex and Disability 

Liberating All Bodies: Intersex Justice and Disability Justice in Conversation

Intersex Mental Health 

Mental Health

Intersex Justice and the Care We Deserve: “I Want People to Feel at Home in Their Bodies Again” by Zena Sharman

A national study on the physical and mental health of intersex adults in the U.S. by Rosenwohl-Mack et al., 2020

Crisis lines that don’t call the cops: 

Trans Lifeline 

Thrive Lifeline

For Parents of Intersex Children 

Supporting your intersex Child by IGLYO

[glitch-fizz]

There is a global strike for Palestine that starts today and lasts until March 30th. Use your platform to spread awareness and support Palestine

Do Your daily clicks:

Here are some other donations:

[mohammedanqar]

Help my family survive the inferno of war and restore hope and a dignified life to us🚨💔🙏🕊️

My name is Mohammad Taysir a 34-year-old Palestinian from Gaza. 🇵🇸 I used to live with my family, which includes my parents, my wife, and my two children, Jude, who is 4 years old, and Yazan, who is 3 years old, in a simple home filled with love and warmth. 🏠❤️ I was striving to provide a decent life for my family despite the enormous challenges in Gaza. 🌟 We lived with the hope that the future would bring better days, but the recent war turned our lives upside down. 💔

I used to work as a mobile app developer, a field I loved and dedicated years of my life to mastering. 💻❤️ My job was our primary source of income, enabling me to provide for my family and give my children a chance for education and a stable life. 🎓👨‍👩‍👧‍👦 I used to spend long hours developing applications, dreaming of contributing to the growth of this field in Gaza. 🌟📱 However, with the war, everything suddenly came to a halt. 💔 I lost all my devices and equipment, and I no longer have even the basic environment to continue my work. 🛠️❌ Now, I am unemployed and face daily challenges in securing my family's basic needs. 🥺🍞

One harsh morning, everything changed. Our home was destroyed in an instant due to intense bombing, reduced to nothing but a pile of rubble. 💔 We lost our memories, our safety, and everything we had built over the years. That place, which was a shelter for our dreams and cherished moments, became nothing more than a painful memory. 🏠➡️🪨 The most devastating part was that my father didn’t survive; he passed away, leaving a huge void in our lives. 😢 The feeling of helplessness and shock was unbearable, especially as I suddenly found myself searching for a refuge for my family amidst this destruction. 🌪️👨‍👩‍👧‍👦

Partial Demolition Damages

After it was completely destroyed

We were displaced to the south, to one of the shelter schools, where this temporary place has become our daily reality. Life here feels like a constant struggle; we suffer from severe shortages of food and water, often going to bed hungry or sharing small bites among us. 🍞💧 Medicines are almost nonexistent, leaving us in constant fear for my children’s health, especially with the spread of diseases in this overcrowded space. 😷 The lack of privacy and the biting cold rob us of sleep. 🥶 Every day is a battle for survival, and I try to endure it all with patience, just to give my family a glimmer of hope amidst this never-ending suffering. 🌟

I write to you today in desperate need of your support—not just for us, but for everyone who has lost their home and family in this war. 💔🏠 Your donation could be the hope that helps us rebuild a better life. 🌟 Any assistance you provide, no matter how small, will make a huge difference in our lives. 🙏 In these difficult times, all I can do is humbly ask you to extend a helping hand to us, to restore some hope for the future. 🤲✨ You are the source of goodness, and every donation from you is a ray of light in our lives. 💖🌈