#and every teacher has the amount of support they need
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m0onjellies · 8 months ago
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I actually think that high schools should be set up more like colleges but with a little bit of extra help from teachers bc wtf is this
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dykesbat · 1 month ago
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help a palestinian teacher and her family of 6!
[PT: Help a Palestinian teacher and her family of 6. End PT.]
Ola's campaign is number 205 on el-shab-hussein and nabulsi'svetted fundraiser spreadsheet.
$53,726 raised of $85,000 goal as of October 4th
[PT: $53,726 raised of $85,000 goal as of October 4th End PT.]
No amount of words can describe how awful it is that a full year of genocide is coming up. Palestinians deserve to be safe in their homes not having to worry about their and their loved ones’ lives or trying to figure out how they can get people to care for their survival. Every single Palestinian I have talked with this past year has been so endlessly kind in spite of everything. Please return this kindness and stand up for Palestinians. Help them.
I’m writing this post for my dear friend, Ola. She’s a seventh grade math teacher who’s so incredibly passionate about her work and uses creative methods to better teach her students. When I first read about her using extracurriculars as a means of teaching, I was left with a large smile on my face. Seeing her connect her lessons to the students rather than making the students connect to the lessons is such a beautiful thing you could do as a teacher since it shows your active consideration towards your students.
Ola had just begun her first year of teaching when this Nakba began. She’s been on Tumblr for months, trying her best to spread her campaign which supports a total of 7 people including herself. Alongside that, she’s been using her blog to share the campaigns of her extended family. Her campaign is beginning to slow. We can not afford this. Please help Ola in any way you can, whether it be from a donation, reblog, or sharing her campaign’s link. I heavily encourage you to follow her at olagaza and spotlight her campaign if you are able to!!
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karemandohan1999 · 29 days ago
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Can you use this card for the benefit of my family, be the knight today
Yu-Gi-Oh Palestine
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Hello, I’m Kariman from Gaza🍉
I never thought I’d find myself in this position, but my family is in urgent need of help. The war has torn apart our lives. We’ve lost our home, and many of our family members are gone. Every day, we are surrounded by danger, and it feels like the walls are closing in. We desperately need to escape this war-torn area, but we don’t even have a proper tent for shelter.
Winter is coming, and the rain has already washed away our temporary tent. We’re left exposed to the cold and wind with no place to stay. My husband, Ayman, and I are trying to keep our 17-month-old son, Hamoud, safe, but without shelter, it’s nearly impossible. My mother is making bread over fire to feed us, and we’re barely getting by.
We are not just in need of food or supplies; we need safety. A tent to shelter us from the winter’s harshness, a way to escape this nightmare. Your help can give us a chance to survive and protect our son.
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The famine caused my husband to lose weight😭
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My campaign has been vetted by @90-ghost and @gaza-evacuation-funds . Any amount you can contribute brings us closer to safety.
Please donate through the link below to help us escape and find shelter
Click on the link to donate 👇
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aquasoftware · 3 months ago
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His baby. ⪩✿⪨
No warnings just Nanami being a dad (fluff) + ML.
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Girldad!Kento, who pulls the classic "Go ask your mother." When his daughter wants something but eventually gives in, shaking his head with a slight smile once she brings out the big doe eyes and pleading combo. "I'll see what I can do." He says as he acknowledges her request.
Girldad!Kento, who supports his daughter's little dreams and gives her wads of cash to start her snack business at school, then once she quickly sells out, she finds hidden colorful sticky notes at the bottom in her big tote bag telling her how proud he is.
Girldad!Kento, who teaches his daughter how to save money when he finds out she spent most of her earnings on Doordash and Roblox.
Girldad!Kento, who covers his red face in embarrassment when his daughter dolls him up for a tea party, wearing a comically large powder pink tutu paired with a plastic silver crown as she records tik-toks forcing his two left feet to dance.
Girldad!Kento, who proudly wears his daughter's homemade bracelets that she made from a gifted hobby lobby bracelet kit to work anytime he gets handed a new one, not at all caring about the idiotic snickers he gets from his co-workers. Kento's favorite bracelet that he'll forever keep safe is one that has lettered black and white charms saying "Best dad."
Girldad!Kento, who never gets tired of the crafted macaroni gifts, whether it's on a card for his birthday, a picture frame for Christmas, or a macaroni necklace for Father's Day to him, it's always the thought that counts.
Girldad!Kento, who gets spoiled by his wife and his daughter, receiving two packed lunches for work. He was intensely observant of his daughter's latest interest, which this time became those junior cooking shows eager to try out a new recipe. Yet although it wasn't the best tasting food in the world, he still scarfed down his daughter's cooking as if it were his last meal.
Girldad!Kento, who awakens to the horrified cries of his precious child, begging "Papa, there's a monster in my room; can I sleep with you and mama tonight...?" He couldn't deny that, swiftly enough you both accepted her with open arms in your shared bed.
Girldad!Kento, who encourages his child to do a sport, feeling his heart melt as his little girl picks ballet.
Girldad!Kento, who spam calls you while you're at work so you can guide him through doing makeup for her ballet recitals. "That's the last step? Okay, I promise I'll get some videos for you, honey!" He reassures you, understanding that you don't want to miss a moment.
Girldad!Kento, who humiliates his poor daughter at the recital jumping up and screaming "That's my baby!"
Girldad!Kento, who never misses a PTA meeting or a parent-teacher conference meeting.
Girldad!Kento, who knew no amount of pep talks from you could prepare him for his baby getting her first period, halfway panicking in Walgreens, snatching up every sanitary napkin possible as soon as he got the text, picking her up from school early due to how bad it got getting her favorite comfort food to cheer her up afterwards.
Girldad!Kento, whose heart absolutely shattered hearing the sentence "Papa, I'm way too old for dolls now." What did she mean she was ready to give up Monster High and Barbie's? The saddened blonde refused to let his baby grow up even though he knew he had to.
Girldad!Kento, who almost sheds a tear when he finds out other cruel kids have been picking on her, calling her ugly, so instead of a typical lecture, he gave a warm embrace reminding her how beautiful she is.
Girldad!Kento, who will sob his eyes out at every single graduation, including elementary, middle, high-school, and soon eventually college, needing at least five boxes of tissues to himself at her middle school graduation, not even being able to fathom how he'd handle her high school graduation.
Girldad!Kento, who loves his daughter unconditionally.
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8/28/24 11:59pm
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emiko-matsui · 7 months ago
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Okay, I just need to get something out of the way when it comes to the Kipperlilly conversation nobody's brought up yet, which I think is insane. Almost all of The Bad Kids would be more powerful if they didn't have their tragedy porn tragic backstories.
First of all, this doesn't apply to Fig and Gorgug because if Fig wasn't Gorthalax's child she would be a lot like Kipperlilly and not the ruler of hell. I wouldn't say Gorgug has a tragic backstory, he's got a pretty normal growing up experience with ups and downs.
Let's start with her #1 nemesis, Riz Gukgak. She's so jealous that his dad was murdered and that gives him an advantage in the adventuring life. To be crude, no, it doesn't. What would give Riz an advantage in the adventuring life would be living with someone who has a direct contact to all the government's inner workings and conspiracies. Now that would be an advantage. That gives you connections and clues that no one else can get. This is not what happened. What happened was eating cereal with water for breakfast, what happened was not getting an opportunity at college, what happened was a 9 year old who stopped sleeping, what happened was not your secret agent dad giving you an advantage in the school conspiracy because he's dead. Otherwise he fucking would've.
And now Kipperlilly's new #1 nemesis, Kristen Applebees. She was ostracised from her religion for her sexuality, she achieved sainthood, and raised a dead god back to life. None of this would've happened if she hadn't been raised in The Harvestmen. No, it wouldn't, but what would have happened if Kristen had been straight? Disgusting thought, yes, I know, but let's talk about it. A Kristen who never left Helio behind would have so many more fucking advantages than the one with Cassandra has. If she had followed her birthright she would be the only chosen one of one of the world's most powerful gods. Sol is the biggest god in Spyre and Helio is his son. Helio does not have a chosen one anymore because Kristen left. It's not a title that's just given out, it could only have been Kristen. You know what's an advantage? Being the chosen one of one of the world's most powerful gods, being a god's spoken favourite, and deified by all of that god's followers. Now that would be an unfair advantage. You know what's not an advantage? Being homeless at 14 and being at the mercy of your ex-girlfriend's uncle for housing, dying and having absolutely no one there for you so you're only option to survive is to trust your own abilities enough to raise yourself from the dead, and failing school because of biased teachers.
And what of Adaine Abernant? The Elven Oracle? Her tragedy porn tragic backstory is surviving an abusive home. Now I just have to imagine that Adaine would have it a lot easier than most students, an incredible amount of unfair advantages, if her old money parents paid for every wizard whim she wanted, kept her diplomatic immunity so she could do literally anything she wanted without consequences, and gave her a direct contact into the heart of the Fallinell government. Now that is what I would call an insane amount of unfair advantage. I would be furious at this rich kid who's never had to work for anything myself. This is not even close to the case. She's barely passing classes because she can't afford the material you're required, she goes to the guidance counsellor for panic attacks, and she's being hunted by her home government. I'd say that's about every single thing in her life working against her having it easy.
Fabian Aramais Seacaster. He's complicated since he is very privileged already. He gets 5000 gold a month just for existing. He's the captain of the Owlbears because he killed the previous one. He lives alone in a mansion. Yeah, that's pretty privileged. His parents are also so severely fucked up that if they hadn't been filthy rich they would've been absolutely horrible for him. If he had parents who unconditionally supported him and stayed with him through everything, then we could talk about perhaps the most powerful person in Elmville. In Solace possibly. The most feared pirate in history who single-handedly dismantled a monarchy and fights against armies on his own is at your beck and call, does whatever you ask him to, and loves you more than anything. The greatest swordswoman in the world, that bested the most feared pirate in the world, the daughter of one of the most influential elven families and immortal will do anything you ask her, loves you to bits, and would cheat any rules for you. To have that would just be insane. You can argue that Fabian already has unfair advantages because of his social status and inheritance. This is true, but this is also true within his own adventuring party. Now his parents aren't helping him with anything and are determined that he reach his legendary status on his own. Otherwise talk about a fucking advantage.
All this to say is that if Kipperlilly got all of The Bad Kids tragedy porn like she wanted she wouldn't have been better, but she would've made them better. There is an adventuring party out there in the multiverse that has a secret agent at their disposal, the only chosen one of a Sol religion, Bill Seacaster and Hallariel Lomenelda unprompted in their corner, and a seer with unending resources and diplomatic immunity. These would've been people you start a platform about adventuring not being fair for everyone because of. The people you went against was a homeless kid, a kid with an anxiety disorder, a trust fund kid, and someone with PTSD.
I've seen your posts about Kipperlilly being wrong for her validation, but right in the fact that The Bad Kids have been given larger plots and mysteries because of their families and circumstances and I don’t want to fucking see another one. When you make that I want you to think about the adventuring party they would've been without their backstories. The insanely powerful and privileged adventuring party that almost happened. Their life got made worse, not easier because their life could have been so fucking easy. Kipperlilly can take all the tragedy porn she wants and then maybe realise that that's not what makes the adventurer. That the reason she's mad at The Bad Kids is the only reason she can even tangentially compete with them.
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littledollll · 10 months ago
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Her favorite dancer
Ballet teacher!Larissa x ballerina!reader
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A/n: I started watching Black swan in the living room tv today and was quickly humbled by the amount of sexual scenes, quickly cut that out.
Warnings: unhealthy teacher/student relationship, sexual undertones, condescending, manipulation, slightly mean Larissa
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“Perfect.”
You lived to hear her utter those precious words. Every second of every day revolves around it. Around seeing that proud smile that would reach her eyes, her chin tilted up as she, admired you.
She, the one who should be admired.
The soft, recorded piano music played, surrounding the empty room with its beauty. An unplanned choreography, you were instructed. The music played and you were to follow, let your creativity and desires use your body as a vessel.
Larissa admired the way you moved. The fluidity of your movements. How every muscle tensed and released with each movement. And as you stepped into an arabesque, the dreadful word came out of her mouth. “Hold that.”
You sighed, your position wavering. Larissa tilted her head, stepping behind you.
“You can do better than this. Your leg goes up to your ear, there’s no reason that leg should be so low to the ground.” Her hands found your waist and thigh, fixing your position.
“I want a your leg to be at chest level, minimum. But I know you can do better.”
“Your body was built for this. Your legs are strong, your back is flexible. Use this to your advantage.” She spoke into your ear. “Have you no idea how many girls would kill to have your body?”
“Lean. Feel the weight of your body on your toes, focus the pressure on your hallux. You should know all of this by now. I haven’t been teaching you for months, only for you to still need my corrections.”
“It hurts.” You uttered in a small voice. Larissa chuckled. “Aww it hurts.. are you just a fragile little girl? Is that it? Are you weak?” Her hands tightened around your waist, fingers digging into your skin painfully.
“The stage is no place for weakness. Nor is my studio. If you think you can’t handle it, I encourage you to leave.”
“Beauty hurts. Art hurts. That is no excuse. I say you’re simply being lazy.” You went to speak, defend yourself but she was quick to shush you.
“Silence. You know better than to speak during my class. I don’t need any more words from you.”
There was no softness in her voice. None of the usual smoothness she spoke with. Larissa could be strict when she needed to, truly she often was. But not to you, for some reason.
“I believe I’ve failed you then. Is that what you’re saying? Are you showing me that my teachings have been ineffective to you, girl? Have you managed to learn nothing in all this time, nothing?”
No no no. She couldn’t think that. Not ever. You owe everything to her. Every bit of your talent has been expanded and bettered because of her.
You whimpered, taking a deep breath in and tightening up your position. She nodded approvingly.
“Good.. you wouldn’t dare make me have my very first failure of a student. You won’t tarnish my reputation like that, would you, my beautiful girl?” You shook your head as best as you could without moving too much.
“You should know I expect better from you, little girl.” She sighed.
“Stretch those lovely arms of yours, aligning with the tip of your nose and your ear.”
You shifted as told, of course. But her body against yours wasn’t helping. It was harder to balance with her pressed against your back, making your body subconsciously support itself against her. “Very well done.”
Larissa knows. She’s been teaching for decades, of course she knows that she’s only making you struggle more. Not that she cares. She’s refining you. Making your practice harder only so you can come out on top. That’s what you tell yourself anyways.
“I will not let your talents waste away simply because it ‘hurts’, my dear. The more it hurts, the better you’re doing.” She said as she stepped back, allowing you to find your balance on your own.
You quivered for a moment but didn’t let yourself fall.
“If you fall from that arabesque you will not like the consequences, my beautiful girl.”
You tightened up in a second. You didn’t want to know the consequences. And you surely didn’t want to disappoint her.
You found your center. The raised leg lifting, ankle height going past your shoulder. Your face spotted, unmoving from one of the walls of mirrors.
“Look at that line.. you’re stunning. This, this is why I work on you the most. You have so much potential yet so little dedication. You need me to guide you. One day, you’ll become my prima ballerina. But only if you put your life into this. Into me.”
Yes, you could do that. You could do it for her. You wanted to hear that word again, to hear her smooth voice call you perfect in that proud tone. You wanted her to show you off, be her model student, her star.
“Give me a nice lift, I want to see that knee in line with your head.”
She watched you through the mirror, as you lifted your torso, rib cage tight in its place and slowly lifted your leg as high as you could. “Hold that.”
Part of you wanted to turn around and slap her every time she said those damned words. But you held. Your supporting leg was cramping up already, your calf feeling that painful strain. Your back felt like needles being stabbed all over and then her hands were on you again. One placed at your knee and the other a little too close to your chest.
She supported your torso as she forced the leg up further, further, further until you winced in pain. “That, is your line.”
“Look at that beauty, look at yourself from this mirror, beautiful girl.” You did. It truly was impressive, but you couldn’t reach that without unbearable amounts of pain, and even less without her hands forcing it. You couldn’t do it on your own.
“One day, my star. Very soon, this will seem like nothing to you. You’ll be able to do it all on your own.” She murmured, dropping your leg but not moving her other hand from its position.
She watched your leg drop in the slightest, you not being able to hold it as she had it. “We’ll work more on this, don’t you worry, little girl.”
“Drop.” She commanded, and you couldn’t stop yourself from falling into the ground, smacking your supporting leg in hopes to ease the cramp. “A little more graceful than that, next time.”
“Yes ma’am.” You said with a shaky breath, looking up at her. A sliver of tears were gathering in your eyes.
She loved it when you called her that. That sweet voice of yours, a little pained and shaky. “Oh it’s alright.. stretch that leg sweetheart, I’ll help you.”
She got on her knees before you, taking off your points shoes and rolling up your tights on that leg before she began to give you a gentle massage. “The trick is to do it in the opposite way you put pressure on it. So up, instead of down. Smacking never really helped me, plus we wouldn’t want to bruise that pretty skin of yours.”
“Thank you..” you said quietly, and Larissa looked up at you with a sweet smile, bringing a hand to caress your cheek. “Of course, my beautiful girl.”
“Did- did I do good?”
“You did wonderfully today. My favorite little student, you’re always a good girl.”
You blushed, resting your head against your knee as you looked at her with a tilted head. “Thank you, ma’am.”
Larissa nodded, patting your cheek. “You may leave now, sweet girl. Don’t practice at home tonight, okay? I don’t want my favorite girl straining herself. I’ll be seeing you here tomorrow.”
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co-dependance · 2 years ago
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I’ve seen people talk about the main theme of the owl house being acceptance, and I think they’re completely right about that. But I haven’t really seen anyone look at the sub themes depicted in the show around the acceptance theme.
Specifically how the owl house is really advocating for child autonomy. Specifically in the ways of discipline, showing that communicating and talking with children ends up being a lot more beneficial and effective than punishing them.
The most obvious example comes with the collector, where instead of talking to him, King’s dad punished the kid by putting him in essentially time out, for the actions of his siblings. Which he would’ve learned if he had talked to the collector. And then following that, every interaction before talking with Luz, has the collector being used or placated in some way instead of being treated like an actual child due to the amount of power he has. The titan trappers revering him as some sort of god, Belos manipulating him, and even king attempting to appease the collector, instead of really talking to him. Though for king it’s a bit more understandable. Even so, the show showcases the collector’s change only after he’s talked to like a person, and then shown why his views were wrong.
Luz, who’s the main focus of the show, has her character arc and journey centered around being punished for her not fitting in at school. And while, yes, some of Luz’s antics that were shown seemed to be legitimately dangerous, the real solution would’ve been to talk with her and teach her about safety and why bringing wild animals and fireworks into a school building is dangerous. It should have also been that Luz should be able to talk and negotiate with her teacher about what would be acceptable for her projects with her endless creativity. The solution was not to essentially punish Luz for being creative, and what that only did was make her feel worse about herself and more isolated from the people she thought would be on her side. And then we were shown in thanks to them and for the future, Camilla’s growth into understanding that not talking to Luz about this, and essentially forcing her into normality, was not the way to go about things.
And we see this theme again, with Willow forced into the abomination track because her parent’s thought that was what was best for her, until she was able to showcase her skills and switch to what she was actually good at. Alador realizing he missed a lot of Amity’s growth by not talking to her, and then making it up to Amity by letting her set the boundaries and reestablishing their relationship. Odalia being controlling and not listening to her children which lead to actively harming their social development, until she was confronted and then shut out. Belos manipulating Hunter, isolating him, and abusing him, not even listening to what he had to say. And all of these situations were made better and more bearable when they were given the chance to take charge and be heard.
All this, in an attempt to showcase that children can be vulnerable and malleable, but they are also smart and understanding. And instead of deciding what a child needs, it’s important to communicate with the child instead, asking what they need and listening to what they’re saying. And implementing that by guiding and supporting them, not attempting to control them to what someone else thinks is right.
Children are smart and observant, they just need to be taught how to communicate, and viewed and thought of as actual human beings.
In a way, the owl house is attempting to advocate for it’s audience, and that’s beautiful.
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newtlesbian · 15 days ago
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new masterlist part one
many more people have reached out to me across my sideblogs since i made previous lists in august. i want to take the time to compile more lists to highlight every person who messaged me directly.
i received a large amount of these messages while making this list. because there are so many people in need of help. please do so.
i have checked them all for legitimacy and organized them for convenience. the people behind these blogs and their families are all suffering through a genocide and need money for daily necessities and to reach safety
please support them by sending help to their funds and reblogging their posts.
CLICK FOR PART TWO BC POST LINK LIMIT
PART THREE
PART FOUR
check back for more parts
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PREVIOUS LIST 1
PREVIOUS LIST 2
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ahmed fathi is supporting a large family of 20 with health concerns, consisting of mostly children. please help them stay safe together.
@ahmed-fathi-gaza on here, please reblog their links
nearly halfway to goal!
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2. dr. mohammed aldeeb, an al-shifa hospital doctor supporting a family of 4
@mohammedaldeeb on here, please reblog their links.
only 11k left to goal!
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3. haya nahed, a mother supporting 8 of her family members including her children and her parents
@hayanahed on here please reblog their links
CLOSE. only 5,797 left until 100! send help!
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4. israa and asmaa ayyad, young daughters supporting the rest of their family of 8
@esraayyad14 and @asmaayyad1 on here please reblog their links
26k/45k over half is the goal progress!
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5. huda reached out supporting her sister najah al-haila’s family. najah is supporting her two daughters, two sons, and her husband
@hudameqdad on here and her sister is @najahmeq on here, please reblog their links
LOW. only 4k out of 80k reached! send help
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6. ola, a graduate student and a mathematics teacher. she is supporting her family of 6 consisting of her parents and 4 siblings
@olagaza on here, please reblog their links
59k out of 85k! close to the goal!
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7. aseel is displaced in cairo and needs funds to support her family. some are still trapped in gaza including her husband and has lost contact with the parents of her young cousin
LOW. only 455 raised. please help!
@aseel140 on here, please reblog their links
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8. sama hassouneh is supporting a young children with daughter noor and a son arkan
@collageadjacent is posting here on their behalf as this family is on instagram. i cant seem to find the account but i will update if i do. please reblog their links
only 13k out of 50k raised!
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9. mahmoud jehad only 21 years old and supporting his family. help save them all so he can continue with university.
@mahmodsy1 on here, please reblog their links
only 7k out of 25k raised!
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10. ibrahim is only a 15 year old. he is only a kid in harsh conditions and is supporting his family.
@ibrahim-family on here, please reblog their links
only 4k out of 10k reached!
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screechingsandwichtriumph · 6 months ago
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Billy Loomis x reader x Stu macher
Billy loomis and stu macher? Ik they aren't on ur list but it would be fun to see a male nerd reader x billy and stu (yandere ofc)
Someone asked this and somehow I deleted it , so I'm sorry but I will write about them
Also , I am infact a girl , and this is the first time that I am writing for male reader , so if this is a bit not good sorry://
Summary: you are Billy's and Stu's obsession. How they are before you get together and after you do
Warnings: yandere , implied murder , implied stalking, that's all
You are literally so perfect and handsome and beautiful and smart , they can't even properly function around you
You had not been part of their original plan who was more about revenge , but you now definably were
People who flirt with you? Well they are instantly befriended and added to the friend group
The plan is to kill all of them , along with Sydney and her friends
You were in one of Stu's classes since forever and he always thought you were super cute when answering questions
But his obsession with you started later on when Billy talked to him about you
Billy had officially met you when he was running of from class , and bumped into you causing all your books to fall on the floor
He helped you pick them up and you smiled at him and he knew
" he has the most beautiful eyes , and his notebooks are all covered in little drawings. Also have you noticed him in class , how cute he is??"
Billy was rambling on and on about you , a thing unusual for him
And then Stu started noticing you more. In class and in the breaks.
They are stalkers
My boys will be following you home , knowing everything about you
Billy very strategically plans about how to approach you
When you all do end up getting together(how could you say no to those beauties and even if you could, they'd threaten you ) it is a mix of amazing and horrible
They cater to your every need. Stu is very rich , so you will miss nothing
They study with you
Or at least they'd try until Stu got bored and now somehow you all are in the kitchen eating
Is anyone annoying you? No , not anynore
They are willing to take it to the extremes for you, killing , stealing, vandalizing, the whole packet
You will never have one moment of peace with those boys. Not. One
They will excitedly support you to your studies and let me tell you , the praise you get every time you do good on a test , makes it all worth it
Sleepovers at Stu's
Billy is willing to give effort to school work , so maybe sometimes he will ask you to help him with something
You end up making out
Every single time
All of you watch unhealthy amounts of horrors together
Even better if you are the scared type , since they have you nestling in their arms in no time , your head buried at their chest in fear
They would be the type of yanders to kidnap you , but they wouldn't really have to , since they are more than capable at flirting
Now ,the bad stuff
Extremely jealous, I don't think you can even speak to male teachers , without them fantasizing about killing the person
Super clingy and obsessed, you will not be going out on you own or with friends
Expect being constantly checked and spied on by those bitches
Istg they have no idea what personal space means
Diaries , assignments and all are not hidden from them
You will be desperately trying to pay attention to school and they will be right there , talking , laughing or touching you
Their presence is so addictive , you find yourself unable to concentrate when reading if none of them is there , and there is no way in hell you are sleeping without their touch/ voice
You're cooked. I'm sorry
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danikamariewrites · 1 year ago
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Also I thought of a Liam or Xaden idea but maybe one of them falling for a Healer?
Always Injured
Liam Mairi x reader
A/n: since we don’t fully know a lot of the medical stuff in FW I just kinda made some stuff up lol
Warnings: mentions of injuries, fluff
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For the third time this week Xaden was escorting Liam to the infirmary. He rolled his eyes at the blondes wide grin. “You’ve never been so…reckless before. What’s going one?”
Liam shook his head, keeping his eyes on the swinging double doors as they got closer and closer. “Nothing. Challenges have been so tough, right?” Xaden gives him a quizzical look, not believing Liam is having a hard time getting through obstacle courses.
He shoulders open the door while supporting Liam, walking him over to the closest bed. Liam lays back looking around the room for you. His eyes find you listening to your teacher intently as he tends to a ill-looking scribe.
“Ok brother, you are free to go.” Xaden follows Liam’s line of sight. Xaden let’s out a long oh and sends Liam a shut eating grin. He knew there would be teasing later but he didn’t care.
“Get better soon.” Xaden says in a light teasing tone as he exits the infirmary.
-
You saw Xaden bring Liam in. You wanted to go right over to him but you knew your professor would chastise you for leaving a working-lesson. So you stayed with the sick scribe. She just needed cold medicine but learning all kind of symptoms is important.
Once you professor dismissed you to check on other patients you headed straight to Liam’s bed. You gave him a small smile as he held his left wrist out for you to take his pulse.
By now he knew the routine. Liam had been in here practically every other day. “Should you really be a rider? The amount of injuries you get I might as well tie pillows around you.” You joke with him.
Liam let’s out a small laugh as your hands kept checking different parts of his body. When you pressed on his side he winced.
Pulling up his shirt revealed a nasty bruise on his ribs. Grabbing a salve from a nearby cart you scoop out some paste, warming it between your fingers before spreading it on his skin.
“That should help with the pain.” You say quietly. Over Liam’s many trips/stays in the infirmary you grew to deeply care for him. He’s a sweet guy and was always interested in whatever you had to say.
“Thank you,” he groaned out pulling his shirt back down. “That one looks bad Liam. You need to be more careful. I’d hate to see you truly injured.” You say gravely, crossing your arms.
Liam reaches out to pull your hand into his. He gives it a light squeeze and give you a boyish grin. “Don’t worry about me sweets. I’ll be just fine.” You roll your eyes at him. “Yeah, well your visits say something different.”
You give his hand one last squeeze before turning to walk away. Liam holds on tighter, slightly pulling you back to the edge of the bed. “Wait, please don’t go yet?”
Plopping yourself on the edge of his bed you narrow your eyes at him. Giving him a knowing smirk like you just figured out his secret. “Not all your injuries have been real.” You say matter of factly.
Liam’s face turns crimson and he looks down avoiding your gaze. “Well, uhh not all of them. Maybe like a headache or two.” He mumbles.
“Any reason?” You tease, poking at his thigh. You desperately wanted to say he has a crush on you too. If he does you would much rather spend time with him outside of this room.
He looks up at you, suddenly shy like he’s speaking to you about a very awkward medical matter. “I keep coming back for you. You’re amazing and I didn’t know how to talk to you, but now I do and I want to get to know you more outside of here.”
You grasp Liam’s hand in yours, taking him by surprise. “I do too Li.” His eyes go wide with joy. “Meet me tonight? At the Bell Tower?” You nod enthusiastically.
He lets out a sigh of relief as you stand. “I have to check in other patients.” You say quietly. Liam nods giving you that boyish grin again. “I’ll see you tonight.”
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callsign-rogueone · 7 months ago
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study season
fourth wing characters (Aaric, Bodhi, Brennan, Dain, Garrick, Imogen, Liam, Mira, Rhiannon, Ridoc, Sawyer, Sloane, Violet, and Xaden) x reader the ways our faves help you study for exams. words: ~900 🏷: no book spoilers, no triggers. gender neutral. and I included the girls this time!! some of these can be read as platonic and others mention kisses / cuddles, implying you’re a couple. idk, I just work here. I’m really liking this format lately, and it’s (fairly) quick and easy so you can expect more of these in the future while I procrastinate all the girlfriendverse chapters and smut I have to write lol
First, the more studious of the bunch:
Brennan is all-in, no hesitation, pulling up a chair next to you and learning this with you for moral support, but also for fun (can you believe this guy?) though you suppose it’s easier to enjoy this if it doesn’t count for a grade. Either way, he’s a very nice study partner, and he encourages you to take breaks every hour / chapter / etc. Brings snacks, too.
Violet somehow already knows all of the material, and explains it better than the textbook or the professor. Walks things back if you don’t get it and gets into the why and how, which so many teachers skip over, even though it helps explain the what (pet peeve of mine showing here lol). 
Aaric’s study skills are unmatched -- years of the best private tutors money can buy really paid off. Teaches you new strategies that you’ve never heard of in your life, and when you ask, he admits a bit shyly that he came up with it himself, but it works, and you get it done in half the time you would have before. (work smarter, not harder, baby)
Rhiannon gives you the pep talk of your life (we all need a Rhiannon in our lives) and convinces you that you’ve got this. Packs you a little snack for the day of your exam with a little note reminding you that you know this, just breathe and think. 
Xaden sees you struggling and forces you to take a break. During said break, he’s reading the book himself and figuring out what exactly has you so stressed and exhausted. Breaks down the tasks into smaller, more manageable steps and guides you through it -- “find three reasons why XYZ happened.” done with that? “Now make them into paragraphs.” etc etc, and an hour later, you have a passable essay. 
Dain is taking this more seriously than you are, and his discipline is like no other; you’re not stopping until the work is done, or until midnight, whichever comes first (because sleep is important for the brain, or whatever. Definitely not just because he misses you and wants to cuddle). 
Garrick may have no idea what you’re talking about, but he suffers through it with you, offering to let you explain things to him, because teaching is a good way to test if you understand something. Though you get what you pay for -- he’s a total smartass about it, asking questions about the littlest details even if they’re common knowledge -- he’s gotta be thorough, right? 
Ridoc may be the class clown type, but he’s smarter than a lot of people think. He comes up with a bunch of jokes that actually help you remember things. Somehow manages to relate the most complex topic in your book to a sandwich, and it actually works. He’s incredibly smug about this for the rest of the week, especially when you get the highest score in the class (he’ll take payment in kisses, thank you.)
Bodhi makes flashcards with you, quizzing you and giving you a kiss if you get it right (this definitely is not a distraction, and things definitely don’t escalate from here, nope.) He’s also really good at proofreading essays, and gives excellent feedback regarding the structure and the order of the information.
Liam sits there with you all the while, completely silent, working on one of his wood carvings at the other end of the table, but you know he’s there and he’s watching -- and that provides a healthy amount of peer pressure and keeps you on task. He’s an incredibly observant person, and he can see the stress building; he knows when to intervene and suggest that you take a break.
Sloane is the best person to commiserate with. She doesn’t want to be doing this either, but she’s also incredibly stubborn, and she doesn’t give up; after a healthy amount of complaining, she’s forcing you both to keep trying until it works / until it’s done, and then you’re treating yourselves to something for getting it over with, because you deserve it.
Sawyer is gentle and supportive, having a heart-to-heart conversation with you and reminding you that yes, this is important, but the world will not stop turning if you fail one exam. He knows how it feels to be compared to his peers, especially in how long it takes you to accomplish something (poor bb) and doesn’t want you stressing yourself out about that, either. 
Imogen is the opposite, all tough love, giving you gentle but firm reminders: “you didn’t make it this far just to give up,”, “I know you can do this, so do it,” but she balances it out with tender affirmation when you’re done. She’ll even let you skip out on training for the day since you’ve been studying so hard (and she takes training seriously, so this is more of a reward than it seems). 
Mira’s default approach is similar to Imogen’s, but she can see that you’re reaching your limit and dials it back, being more gentle with you and doing whatever you need -- encouragement? someone to just sit there? help / explanation / etc? she’s got you covered. herds you into bed at a reasonable hour so you’ll be well rested for the classes and exams.
And all of them are incredibly proud of you for working so hard and getting good grades 🤍
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xhoneygirlxx · 1 year ago
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Fool For You
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Dad!Steve Harrington x Fem!Reader
summary: Life as a single dad but life is about to get way harder when Steve falls for his son's teacher.
warnings: fluff. slight angst: mentions of steve's childhood. steve is sad over his son's first day of school. No pronouns are used for reader but they're described to wearing fem clothing. Steve compares reader to Miss Honey from Matilda. Readers skin tone/ethnicity is not mentioned. fic is set in 91 (let's pretend Matilda had already come out by then). meet cute. mentions of being a single parent. Steve's son is named Danny. ending is rushed lmao lets pretend it's not. bad writing/grammar errors. Not proofread!! 18+ plus only, MDNI
*If I missed anything lmk!
a/n: Awe my beautiful lovies!!! we are halfway done with my wonderful birthday week :( I just want to thank each and every one of you for supporting me and showing me nonstop love. I love each and everyone of you so dearly!!!! I also wanna apologize for the late upload! I hope you guys can forgive me!
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Maybe I’m crazy, but it’s hard to ignore you
And I can’t wrap my head around it, but it feels
Oh, like I loved you before.
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Being back in the hallways of Hawkins Elementary felt odd. Everything has stayed the same since the last time Steve went there, the paint of the walls, the decorations, even the smell was all the same. It smelled like a chilly autumn morning and books, innocence and childhood - a smell he didn't even realize he missed so much until he entered the building.
The cinder block lined walls hold memories, locking them in place until the end of time. Now his son's will be there along with them, a new generation of the Harrington family ready to leave their mark.
Walking hand and hand with Danny, Steve feels every single emotion any parent would on their child's first day. It's bittersweet, stinging him right through the heart with sadness and patching itself up with a sense of excitement. Danny on the other hand is a ball of energy, bouncing with every step he takes, like he always does.
The small boy is nothing but big smiles, eyes darting everywhere as he takes in the new environment. His Ninja Turtle backpack is comically bigger than him, flopping off of the backs of his knees with every step he takes.
As he looks down at his son, who looks just like him at that age, a big rush of adoration falls onto the older man. Over the short five years that Steve became a dad, he's learned that you can fall in love with your baby all over again just like the first time you held them. Steve is always amazed by Danny and the amount of love that runs through his veins for the small boy, but sometimes you need a little refresher like right now.
"You excited to meet your new teacher, Danny?" Steve swings the small boys arm causing him to giggle.
Nodding his chestnut hair, he looks up at his father with wide eyes. "M'cited dad."
"You gonna make lots of friends?" Steve isn't sure if this question is appropriate but a part of him worries about his son's ability to make new friends, since Steve is the only one out of his friends that has a child.
"I fink so but they hav' to like tourtles." Danny isn't really bothered by the question too much, not when he's too focused on the bright decorations that stick all over the walls.
"Turtles, Dan." It comes out in a chuckle. Even though Steve always corrects his son on the word, he's still a sucker for the way he says it.
Making it to the end of the hall, they stop at the wooden door with the numbers 206 written over them. The memory of Steve's kindergarten years creep into his mind as they stand there, flashbacks of him holding his mom's hand as wet tears streamed down his face. He wonders if his mother remembers that or if she buried that in the back of her mind like everything else in his life.
Pulling himself out of his head, Steve knocks on the closed door and scoots back just a little to leave room for it to open. Crouching down to his son's level, he runs a nervous hand through his hair, fixing whatever pieces didn't stay down.
"Daddy, you're gonna mess it up." Danny pouts, lightly stomping his converse clad foot on the vinyl flooring.
Pulling his hand back, Steve realizes he's using his son for his anxious habits. "You're right, m'sorry. You gonna be okay?"
Danny rolls his eyes in a sassy way, the way that always makes Steve laugh. "Yesss dad."
Wow, his son is really his carbon copy.
The sound of the heavy door opening pulls both of their attention, Steve immediately springing up from his position wiping his clammy hands down his shirt.
Steve steels himself for who he's about to meet, releasing a shaky breath he didn't realize he was holding. Now, Steve expected to see a middle aged woman, maybe even older. He pictured someone with a grandma type energy, sweet and welcoming. What he didn't expect was you.
Standing there in the doorway with the bright light of your classroom falling around you in a halo. A pretty floral dress hangs from your body, cinching your body just right without being too inappropriate. Your cheeks are puffed up as you smile brightly, eyes crinkled at the sides as you do.
You seem about the same age as Steve, no older than twenty five. Glasses sit on the top of your head, pushing back the front of your hair. In a way you remind him of Miss Honey, not looks wise but your aura. You're so fucking pretty and he doesn't think he'll be able to formulate a sentence.
"Let me guess," You stand with a hand on your hip, pretending to think hard, "You must be Mr. Daniel Harrington."
The little boy in question beams up at you, bouncing on his toes as he clutches his excited hands around the straps of his backpack.
"My dad calls me Danny." The lisp that he has is very noticeable when he says it. Steve can tell you want to coo so badly over the small boy, the flexing of your fingers not going unnoticed.
Crouching down to his level, you reach out a hand to Danny for a handshake. "What a pleasure to meet you Danny."
Placing his hand into yours, he shakes it in a jerky manner. His missing bottom tooth shows off with the way he smiles at you. Pulling your hand away, you stand up straight still looking at the small child.
"Danny whenever you're ready you can head right inside and find the cubby with your name on it!" Your voice is like the sun, bright and chipper.
Craning his next up to his dad, he waits for his dad's permission even though his body trembles with anticipation. Steve on the other hand doesn't want to let him go, not ready to detach himself from his baby he spent five years with.
Kneeling down, Steve wraps his son in one last hug. The sting of unshed tears hits his nose first, the lump that sits in the back of his throat waits patiently for the dam to break.
"Okay dad, I have to go!" The small boy giggles, not understanding the gravity of the situation. To him he thinks his dad is just being silly, not realizing that his dad's heart is breaking.
Reluctantly Steve pulls away, trying to remember the look on his son's face. His own flesh and blood, the boy he's worked so hard to raise by himself, and God is his heart full.
"Alright little man, go head inside." Tapping a heavy hand to the boy's head, he watches him duck into the classroom.
Popping back to his standing position, Steve tries his hardest to blink the tears away. You still stand there, observing the classroom behind your shoulder.
"Oh, Mr. Harrington," You call out before he can leave and he's quick to interrupt you.
"Please, call me Steve. I feel like I'm too young to be Mr. Harrington." He half chuckles, ignoring the skip of his heart when he makes eye contact with you.
"Steve," You correct, a bashful smile on your face, "I wanted to ask if you would be the only person to pick him up or if your wife would also be included in pick ups and drop offs."
"Oh, no I'm not- his mom isn't." Lifting a hand to scratch at the back of his neck, he thinks of the best way to say it.
"Danny's mom isn't around, so it'll be just me on pick up and drop off duties. Possibly his aunt Robin but I'd let you know beforehand." A tight smile forms on his face.
"Oh I am so sorry, I shouldn't have assumed." You rush to apologize but you're quickly interrupted with the shake of his head.
"It's okay, you didn't know." He reassures and you visibly relax.
You're just as nervous as he is and he wonders if it's because you feel the same spark he does. Or maybe he's thinking too much into it. Either way, he'd like to think it's the latter.
"Well I'm very excited to teach Danny this year, he seems like a great kid." Although liking kids is part of your job, it sounds sincere coming out of your mouth and not rehearsed.
A coy smile breaks out on the older man's face, rose tint pours onto the rounded apples of his cheeks. "Y-yeah, he's a good kid. He can be shy sometimes but he loves to be around people."
Nodding your head, you sneak another peak behind you to check on the boy. "That's okay, I'm shy too."
When you turn to face Steve again, your lip is tucking behind your teeth. You're so fucking cute it makes him forget just how sad he was to drop off his own son and he doesn't know if that's a good or bad thing.
A long pause settles between the two of you, eyes becoming too bashful to meet. Steve kicks his foot at the hard floor, hands tucked into the pocket of his jeans.
"Well Steve, it was so nice to meet you but I have to get back in there." You sigh hiking a thumb over your shoulder.
Steve feels like someone just popped him like a balloon, the small amount of joy he's felt just by talking to you has now been taken away. Meeting you with a tight lipped smile, he nods understandingly.
After bidding your farewells, Steve thinks about you. He wishes he wasn't so awkward, that he had acted way cooler than he did, and how breathtaking your smile was when you spoke to him and his son.
On his drive home all he could think about was you and his son, ping ponging back and forth between the two. Steve wishes that he met you before today, maybe in the coffee shop on Main or in line at the grocery store. He wishes that he would be able to ask for your number and take you out without any consequences brought on by the school.
He doesn't know how he's going to last a full year with Danny in school and he's really not sure how he can manage to keep a professional conversation with you every morning without falling in love.
The low hum of Rod Stewart's "Rhythm of My Heart" plays through the car, the soundtrack to Steve's drive home.
Ah, the rhythm of my heart
Is beatin' like a drum
With the word's I love you
Rollin' off my tongue
"Fuuuuuuck," His voice drags out in the safety of his car, "I'm screwed."
Yeah, he was definitely screwed.
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The ending feels rushed and it's not good but I hope you still enjoy! love you all :)
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darkpetal16 · 3 months ago
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Sorry, I saw you already have a post with siren gaster headcanons! Could we get some siren!Sans headcanons instead? :)
Mhmm!
Clingy.
He can give you space if you need it, but if you allow it he will always be touching you. holding hands, nuzzling you, licking you, sitting in your lap, tracing your skin, etc. This man is touch starved to such a severe degree that no amount of contact is enough to fulfill him. He constantly craves your physical validation.
When he sleeps with you, he 1.) always positions himself between you and the door 2.) is on you 3.) is in short bursts. What I mean by short bursts is that he’ll sleep for two hours, guard for one hour, then sleep another two hours. Orcas are used to constantly moving, and while his moth side has helped him “lay” for sleep, it’s an unnatural state to him. That, and he’s anxious to leave you vulnerable.
Nests.
You do not have a bedroom; you have a nest. You’ve had to move all your clothes to a separate room because the nest has engulfed the entire room. It wouldn’t be so bad, but he wrapped everything in white silk too so you can’t undo it or clean it up.
You sleep in a nest and that’s that.
It is a very good thing that it is the single comfiest place you have ever slept in your entire life. Everything has been positioned to support you in the best way, and it’s completely pitch black inside, and you know—you know—you are the safest human in the entire city when he lays beside you. You are safe, warm, and cozy. Every sleep in the nest is impeccable.
Fidgets. As mentioned above, orcas are constantly moving. After he lost his pod, he never stayed in one location for long so this only exasperated the issue. Unless being held by you, he is squirming. He’s tapping his foot, drumming his fingers, shifting his weight side to side, or outright pacing. If the weather is nice enough he’ll fly.
He hunts. If you know about his hunts and support it, great. If not and he thinks you’ll oppose it, he’ll hide it. Wings will help with this.
The EXP deeply warped his SOUL. He has a constant craving for more. Thankfully his self control is strong enough to prevent him from going feral. He can’t quit even if he wants to by this point.
So jealous. So, so jealous.
If someone makes you laugh he is beside himself with jealousy. He will immediately grab your hand, then proceed to stare at the other person to the point that they will inevitably feel uncomfortable and have to leave. He doesn’t glare, he doesn’t need to. His eye rings are already intimidating enough so all he has to do is stare blankly at them.
And if anyone touches you without your permission, you can count on them disappearing from your life by the next morning. 
Can be petty. If there is someone in your life that you like, even if he doesn’t like them, he won’t hurt them. But he will absolutely be a petty little shit. Examples include lightly sprinkling them with his moth dust to give them sneezing fits, whoopee cushions on their chair, reading ahead of a book they like and spoilering it with a deadpan expression, etc.
Likes to learn. Specifically astrology and physics. Once he obtains his citizenship, he’ll start to take college classes. He’s really good at it. He’ll either end up working in a lab with Wingding, or he’ll (surprisingly) take up a position as a university professor teaching astrophysics. It’ll depend on your own schedule and if you have kids (for example, if you have kids he’ll go the teacher route so he’ll have a more lax schedule to spend time with the children).
Avid debater in the science community. Some of his theories are award winning. Some of them are trolling. He will defend and die on the hills of his theories, and he can be so damn persuasive that people will even fall for his trolly theories. It has divided communities, while also bringing new ones together to explore different avenues because people can’t tell which is which. Only you and he know the truth.
Side note: Wings will spend an exorbitant amount of time and money to disprove Sans’ theories. Sans retaliates by disproving Wings’ theories. It is a never ending cycle.
Dates are dependent on you. He doesn’t know human courtship so it’ll be up to you to show him what you want and expect in the relationship.
Fresh fish. He catches it himself. If you’re allergic to fish then he’ll hunt birds. If you’re vegan then he’ll learn to garden. Providing food for you is important to him.
Short. So short. His monster form is hilariously tiny compared to his moth or orca form. It makes it easy to carry him around which he’s very fond of. But he expects you to let him carry you around in turn.
Happy to take you swimming or flying.
After a year of being together he’ll start to absently hum while doing menial tasks.
If you point it out to him, you’ll see a rare moment of him being shy.
PLAY HIS ROUTE IN SIREN CALL HERE
MASTERLIST
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saphronethaleph · 4 months ago
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So a sort of look at a structure one could do for the Sequel Trilogy, admittedly with hindsight.
Opening sequence? Basically the same, except that Poe is meeting with a Resistance spy - the data he's got is the evidence that means the First Order is more than just a rando Remnant faction but is a serious threat. Then the stolen TIE crashes but Finn and Poe link up together. They meet BB- and Rey, and the four of them escape on a ship - possibly the Falcon, but it could be another of the same type, they're supposed to be common. Alternatively make up a new ship type they steal and have that be the Iconic Ship of the trilogy.
Team dynamic is Poe Flies, Finn Shoots, Rey Fixes.
They're heading straight to the Resistance, or that's the plan - they may need to briefly detour somewhere if their ship got damaged in the escape (if so, this is where they visit Maz).
The Resistance is explicitly described as a deniable New Republic operation which is fighting this specific Remmant faction - at the moment. They've fought others before, they're kind of like knights errant, and they have at least one Jedi (let's say Qu Rahm) who gives both Finn and Rey some training.
The Jedi Order as a whole is not involved with the First Order fight because it's utterly routine, there's dozens of Remnant factions... at least until BB-8's information reveals that the First Order has Kylo Ren associated with it, and also the existence of Starkiller Base.
The knowledge of BOTH of those things means that the Jedi Order is able to evacuate their current temple (Naboo or Yavin? Either way it should be a known planet) just in time before it gets blown the fuck up by Starkiller base. Then there's tension involving the need to swat SK base quickly, which mostly goes as per the original film.
In the second film:
The Resistance is still tiny, and the First Order's actions have promoted them from "just another Remnant faction" to "holy fuck" and they're starting to weld the Remnant back together. It is actually not widely known that Starkiller base got destroyed and the First Order is using intimidation tactics to pretend they're unbeatably strong - not helped by how the Resistance genuinely is pretty weak, nobody on the Republic side wants to be the first to jump, and Leia is trying to talk everyone into giving more support (it does slowly tick up)
The general structure here does need more changes than TFA did, simply to fit into the trilogy as a whole, but here I think a good Driving Question could be finding out who Snoke is and where the Knights of Ren came from. Our Heroes are juggling between getting Jedi training (for Finn and Rey), launching raids on the First Order, and trying to find out Snoke's origin - the latter of which fails, but he does get killed instead by Kylo Ren, who takes control of the First Order.
The main ending note at the end of the film would be the loss of Leia; she tried to turn her son back to the light side with full sincerity, but also went to kill him if he didn't. Neither worked, but he's been badly wounded and about half of the Knights of Ren got taken out. (n.b. if this is cheating to get around Carrie Fisher's death, and it probably is, that could be Luke's demise instead - or both.) Our Heroes might well be involved with a hot-extraction of R2 and C-3P0, who have important details of what happened.
Third film:
The death of Leia/Luke/both has become a rallying point and the New Republic is gearing up for war, which gains momentum with every day that the First Order doesn't blow up a planet; it's made clear in scenes showing Kylo that he's under a huge amount of pressure, because Starkiller Base made promises that the First Order cannot fulfil. In lieu of that they're having to turn instead to more standard means of brutally enforcing their claim to authority, and it's not working out well.
Our Heroes meanwhile are involved in hit-and-fade strikes, one of which sees the death of Qu Rahm. The loss of their teacher causes Rey and Finn some problems, but Poe is the one who pulls them out of it - it doesn't matter if they have a teacher or not, what matters is who they are, and that didn't change because they had a teacher. All he did was open their eyes to who they really were.
That's the realization that drives the stormtrooper-rebellion side of things from the Resistance/Republic side, while on the Imperial side we see Phasma having more and more trouble keeping a lid on things. Finn is The Traitor and basically blamed for everything that goes wrong ever as far as the First Order is concerned.
Running out of options, Supreme Leader Kylo Ren orders a decapitation strike by the entire F.O. fleet on the capital world of the Republic. This is a serious threat, because normal strategic calculus assumes that you just don't DO this, and this is what leads to the big final battle over said capital world - the Republic is outnumbered on a tactical scale, and the available members of the Jedi Order help launch an assault on the First Order flagship to try and disrupt the F.O. fleet.
This is where the Stormtrooper Rebellion is really kicked off, as Finn brings the existing tension in the First Order fleet to a boil (key moment: a Stormtrooper panics at the sight of Jedi, one of their officers tries to gun them down, Finn kills the officer before it can happen; this is the moment that disproves the propoganda and it spreads). Rey gets the big final duel, but it's against Kylo, and on at least two occasions she manages to call in strike support from Poe flying outside in his starfighter. This means the final battle is the Jedi Order versus the Knights of Ren on a super star destroyer being torn apart by Imperial infighting, and the resolution is liberation - for the stormtroopers, for example - and the surrender of the remaining First Order fleet.
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emo-batboy · 2 years ago
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bruce finding out the gotham public school system is underfunded and donating large amounts of money to it. Not just elementary level to support Dick, but all levels.
Or alternatively, Bruce buying every teacher in the school district a stupid amount of classroom supplies when finding out dick's teacher is running low on classroom supplies and teacher has to buy supplies on their own budget
I think I actually mentioned how he pays for school supplies in Part 12 but that is very correct! Bruce will jus randomly go into classrooms (to hang out with the kids avoid work check up on where the money’s going) and the teachers will be overjoyed every time because Bruce is always asking, “Is there anything you’re running low on? Anything you need? Even if it’s not a necessity. Really, it’s fine.”
He always loved public schools because he never got to attend one and it just seemed so fun. (Rich people things.) He gets a grocery list of school supplies to order every time, and ofc he orders the fanciest stuff because he has standards :/
But the funniest outcome is when the students see Bruce pay for stuff and immediately decide that he is their personal piggy bank. So they walk up and ask for stuff too, and what’s he going to do? Say no?
Some elementary schoolers are like “We want more bean bags! Mr, Bruce, can you get us more bean bags, please? 🥺” and he is SOLD!! Middle schoolers ask for board games and a new playground and a slide in the goddamn library. The high schoolers get creative and ask for free vending machines, and Bruce is like “okay 👍🏻” because he too is an enjoyer of games and snackie snacks.
If you can steal an ounce of Bruce’s attention while he’s visiting, you have a world of opportunity right in your palms. The golden ticket. Some schools have a group chat or a shared Google doc with all of the things they want so no good idea is left unasked. Bruce limits his visits to once every month or so, but it is easily some of the best days of the year.
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chigirisprincess · 7 months ago
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Good Luck, Babe ! - Chapter 1: You'll Need It.
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— Aizawa Shōta
⊹ Details. 18+ minors dni, fem!reader, sfw, reader has hair that can be run through, reader is a teacher, reader is a slight author self insert, first meetings and a not so cute meet cute. ⊹ Run time. 4.2k ⊹ Note. This has been marinating in my brain for a while! So I decided to bite the bullet and write it, enjoy :3
❝It's your first day on the job, teaching at the overly prestigious hero school, U.A Academy, what could go wrong? Apparently a lot.❞
masterlist || next part
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September's early morning chill was a bitter reminder that summer would soon come to an end. An unwelcome reminder that with summer gone so too would the precious tendrils of young adulthood. It was a frightening truth. Though you’d been one of the lucky ones. Employed only six months after graduating from university, with a fairly cushy gig that most could only dream of. The pay was good, you had an ample amount of sick days and vacation days. It was far more than you’d been expecting for a glorified student teaching position.
Still, the prospect of embarking on a new journey without the support of family and friends felt like too much for you to bear. Your stomach twisted itself into knots that refused to be undone no matter how many little reassurances you chanted to yourself. On the brink of thinking yourself sick, you forced your gaze upwards to the campus ahead. It was the stuff of legends, only something you could have dreamed of as a teenager.
The U.A High gates were an imposing sight to behold, far more akin to that of a fortress wall than your run of the mill boarding school. A twinge of pain shoots through your neck when you crane your head to drink in every last bit before you brave the next big adventure– actually going inside the building. Sweat gathers within the palm of your hands, you reflexively drag them down the length of your shirt, hardly flinching under the scrutinous stares of the passing students who need no invitation to head back onto campus after a weekend away. Your nerves fail to scatter the longer you peer upward but your eyes begin to burn as the sun shifts from behind the building.
“No big deal, this is no big deal,” you mutter beneath your breath, “This is just the start of your career, it’s not like failure is going to make or break it.”
You blanch for a moment, your mouth running dry.
Failure could ruin your career, it wasn’t everyday that the ministry of education hand selected educators to work with a school as prestigious as U.A. Rarely, had they taken interest in newly graduates with too many opinions like yourself. This was a once in a lifetime opportunity to prove that all your hours spent researching pedagogy, writing papers on the merits of student-led learning, and focusing your dissertation on why hero courses were intrinsically detrimental to their social and emotional development, weren’t wasted because you couldn’t hack it in the classroom. Smoothing out the rumpled fabric of your dress shirt, you fought the urge to nervously swipe your sweaty hands against cotton once more. 
“There’s nothing to worry about, today is going to be a great day!”
Your voice carries farther than you intend for it too, it catches the attention of two students who loiter nearby. They cast you a perturbed glance before shuffling toward the school. You offer them a toothy grin in response, hoping it’d disguise your nerves and give those kids the impression that you belonged here. It was laughable. You belonged at U.A even less than the countless number of journalists who milled about in search of an exclusive story. That lot hardly gives you a once over, as if they could smell the mediocrity wafting off of you. Your quirk wasn’t very interesting and you hoped you looked too old to be a student. So, there was no need for anyone to chase after your coat tails when you finally pried your feet from the cement, and walked past the school gates.
The sidewalk feels as though it’s fused to the soles of your oxfords, your legs like lead as you attempt to shuffle forward. You're rendered still by the nerves that eat away at your belly even as the clock tick closer and closer to eight. Sucking in a deep breath, you force yourself to step forward though the pace is still painstakingly slow. You regret not shaking out your nerves before you arrived at the school. Tension gathered in your joints and painfully fused your limbs together. You couldn’t rid yourself of the stress that clung to you not matter how many deep breaths you sucked down.
The main building possessed the same grandeur as the gate. Its front doors are ornate, with gold lettering detailing which door was designated for each year. You quickly yank open the door with the large letter one atop it, hoping you’d made the right choice. The email you received for this position stated you would be working with a first year class so, this seemed like the most logical choice by far. 
If it wasn’t, you’d fake it ‘til you made it.
You remember a professor of yours telling you that confidence was key. Nothing could go wrong if you looked like you knew what you were doing, others would trust that you did. If you looked like you belonged, no one would question why you had a seat at the table. Holding your head up high, you walked towards the administration office, thanking whatever cosmic force that despite all its quirks, the ground floor layout was the same as most high schools in the area. The principal, a small marsupial looking man, Nezu pops his head out from the office before you’ve finished rounding the corner. The scar that cuts into his short white fur and left eye was slightly disconcerting, somehow more so than a talking animal.
Based on your googling during your commute, he’d once been an ordinary animal that developed a quirk– truly one of a kind, sentience and an IQ that surely surpassed your own was just the surface level of what Nezu had been blessed with. Though, there was little information detailing how and why he was given the position of principal. That struck a chord of concern. You wondered how much empathy he possessed, if he related to his students, and how he went about human affairs, even when they were personal in nature.
“There you are!”
Nezu waves you over with a paw.
“I was starting to worry you weren’t going to show!” He exclaims with a laugh, “Didn’t happen to get lost, didja?”
With as much confidence as you could muster, you shake your head, “No! No, of course not,” you mutter with a wave of your hand, “I was just taking a quick tour and didn’t realise how much time had passed!”
Nezu nods sagely as if there was some unspoken wisdom to what you said, “Oh, good! So I take it you’ve unloaded your things at the dormitory then, how proactive!”
“I’m sorry, I’m not sure I follow?”
“As of this year, U.A High is a boarding school as I’m sure you may know,” Nezu explains with a flourish, “As such, all educators must reside on campus, including temporary staff such as yourself.”
“Oh, right, yes, I was actually planning to do that after classes today!”
You chuckle unconvincingly, offering an awkward smile. Well, that solved your problem of where you’d go after your lease was up in two weeks. Still, the pressure of throwing yourself completely into this job weighed heavily upon your shoulders. You were still unconvinced that this was truly happening. Even if you did everything perfectly, there was still a chance the teachers here wouldn’t take too kindly to you bulldozing years of lesson planning all because parents, and the ministry of education were starting to listen to people like you. You didn’t want to believe that all heroes were as egoist as the media painted them out to be, but the thought still made your hands shake with anxiety every time you imagined what this new job would entail.
The smile Nezu offers only unsettles you further, something about seeing an animal's face contort like a humans, “Very well, come along now classes are starting shortly.”
He presses an ID card into your hands, a black lanyard dangles from it. Your smiling face peers up at you. The photo’s been swiped from your university's website, along with the other information– including your new job title– since you don’t recall submitting your picture to them. Slipping it into the front pocket of your pants, you follow Nezu through the halls. Your shoes click against the blue tile flooring. You’d been expecting scuffed linoleum but the tiles were smooth and recently buffed if your reflection was any indicator. The sound soothed your frayed nerves, and almost allowed you to forget how out of your depth you were. Almost.
The grandiose scale of the environment you found yourself surrounded by was intimidating. Everything at this school was large, given how massive Cementoss and Ectoplasm seemed on your tiny phone screen during the sports festival, the building must have been made to accommodate those of all sizes. Even the door to class 1-A made you feel dwarfish in comparison. It stood a good two feet over the top of your head, made of fine maple wood that had been painted brown and red. 1-A was printed in the negative space, denoting which class this room belonged to. You’d never have to worry about entering the wrong classroom, that soothed the butterflies in your belly.
Dragging your hands down the front of your shirt, you smoothed out the invisible wrinkles you swore were pressed into the fabric, “Deep breath in,” you whispered to yourself, your cheeks hot with embarrassment, “Deep breath out, you got this!”
Using the window pane of the door, you raked your fingers through your hair. Cursing to yourself when they got caught and tangled on a few strands. Pushing your hair behind your shoulders, you mechanically cranked your lips upward until a cheery smile replaced the anxious expression you wore like a second skin. Your shoulder blades slid backwards as if on cue, your spine straightening.
“Now then, go on, don't be shy,” Nezu says, nodding his head toward the classroom, “Introduce yourself to the class, tell them why you’re here, their homeroom teacher should be waiting for you inside.”
The doors hinges squeal as you struggle to open it all the way. Still, you force on a smile the way your teachers had instructed you to. Apparently, students could sniff out fear and anxiety like a bloodhound. You tried not to appear too miffed by how strenuous opening the door was, quickly stepping towards the front of the classroom. All twenty sets of eyes were glued to your frame, their conversations running to a harsh stop as you clapped your hands together. 
“Good morning, class!” Your voice is chipper and perfect even just like you rehearsed in the mirror this morning, “It’s so nice to meet you all!”
The classroom was plain, devoid of any personality or signs that students had occupied the space for the better part of six months. The desk sat in four rows of five, their table tops practically sparkled beneath the sickly yellow fluorescent lighting. From here, the lack of student graffiti was evident. You supposed you could take it as a good sign. Though, following the rules and not defacing school property seemed like an entry level requirement for prospective heroes.
Principal Nezu offers your leg a pat before swiftly scuttling back out the door. There was no sign of the class’ home room teacher, even in the form of a yellow lump on the ground. Wringing your hands together, you flash the class a grin. The students stare blankly back at you in confusion. Some exchange a worried glance with one another before returning to eyeing you up.
“Are you going to be our new teacher?” A boy with unruly green hair asks. He raises his hand after he finishes speaking, a sheepish expression when he realises he spoke out of turn.
Midoriya Izuku.
You remember him from the set of student profiles you were emailed last week and the intermittent news stories he appeared in. He was a relatively good student, with only a few minor infractions here and there on his permanent record detailing unsanctioned usage of his quirk. That was out of your jurisdiction. Aside from his penchant for working himself to the point of exhaustion and his habit of breaking his bones, Izuku wouldn’t cause you much trouble within the classroom. His records from middle school told you that much.
“Ah no, actually-”
“Don’t get all excited,” a gruff voice rumbles behind you, you don’t have to turn to know it’s Aizawa, their homeroom teacher, “You lot are still stuck with me.”
A mass of loose black clothing and messy black hair begin to fill your periphery as the man steps closer to you. You hardly have a chance to greet him before he’s placed himself between you and the first row of desks. Dark circles line a pair of ebony irises that are nearly hidden by his heavily lidded eyes. The pale skin of his jaw disappears into a thin, wispy beard that Aizawa compulsively scratches at as he eyes you up. Pinned beneath his scrutinising gaze, you suddenly feel silly, like you were five years old again, caught playing dress up in your parents closet. The corduroy pants and nice dress shirt you took several hours picking out last night seemed over the top and childish.
“What are you doing in my classroom?”
“Oh!” You quickly offer your name with an apologetic smile and a bow, “I’m here on behalf of the ministry of education to audit your classroom and work alongside you for the foreseeable future.”
Aizawa looks unimpressed, but when you offer him your hand, he takes it. His skin is calloused and rough, yours, comparatively, are soft to the touch. The callouses that formed from writing seemed so insignificant to the history that marred his skin. Clearing your throat, you steel your gaze on him, smiling in hopes of covering yourself in an air of indifference.
“Did Principal Nezu not inform you that I’d be here today?” You nervously question, pulling out your brand new ID card, “He told me that you’d be expecting me.”
“Why don’t we go chat outside?” He suggests, taking your ID card to inspect. You suspect you don’t really have a choice in the matter.
You nod, ducking your head down to avoid his intense gaze.
“Start preparing for your next class,” Aizawa addresses his students, his tone even and unwavering, “Yamada sensei will be here soon for your English lessons.”
There's a mumble of agreeance that breaks out amongst the throngs of desks. You’re certain that if the walls were thinner, you’d hear far more from them once you stood outside the classroom door. Kids were nosey, you wouldn’t be surprised if a few of them pressed against the door and strained their ears to catch even the smallest morsel of information. You’d almost prefer to be chewed out in front of twenty teenagers than be left alone with the ire of a pro-hero.
“Look, I don’t know what Nezu told you but I don’t need help managing my classroom,” Aizawa says as soon as the door has clicked shut behind you, “And I certainly don’t need help from a child.”
His arms are crossed over his broad chest. Your skin prickles with insecurity as he regards you. With his hair hanging over his face, you’re unable to discern what it is that lays in the depths of his eyes. If there’s an ounce of pity or just annoyance, you’re unsure. Whatever it is, its intensity makes you squirm beneath his gaze.
“I’m not a child,” you pause, attempting to counter but you stumble a bit over your words “I have two degrees and was hand selected by the ministry of education to be here, to work alongside you.”
Straightening your shoulders, you puff out your chest. With the way Aizawa tiredly slouched, he wasn’t as intimidating as he could be. If anything, if you could imagine him to be a petulant student. It wasn’t so hard. You’d dealt with worse during your days of being a TA. Hungover frat boys were far worse than a grouchy new colleague who didn’t appreciate having their authority tested. Not that you wanted to do that. You were looking forward to working with him, even if he was resistant to change.
Aizawa hardly stifles an eye roll before he narrows his gaze, “You were just about to call me sir, see child.”
“You’re not that much older than I am,” you retorted, frowning. Of all the things you’d heard of the elusive Eraserheard, you didn’t expect him to criticise you so harshly because of your age. Your lack of experience in the classroom? Sure, fair game. But, your age meant nothing in the grand scope of things, “Even if you were, I’m still qualified for this position.”
Your face grows hot with embarrassment. Six months. That’s how long you’d been a real adult, no longer a student. Calling anyone with even an inch of authority sir or ma’am had become second nature. How quickly Aizawa had caught on, made you wonder if he was right, if you were too far out of your depth. You feel it again, the nasty little pang of self-doubt that made the new lipstick you wore feel like you’d rummaged through your mothers things rather than the understated elegance you thought it gave you.
“Still, I have far more experience than someone who's never stepped foot in a classroom,” he mutters, pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration, “Nezu made a mistake, and I’ll be sure to tell him myself.”
“So you don’t take naps during lessons and allow your students to do as they please?” 
It’s a dirty, underhanded comment. But, you’re struggling to find any solid ground in this conversation, anything that would prove to him that you belonged in this school. Your throat feels like it might collapse in on itself as you suck in a nervous breath.
“That’s not-” Aizawa starts with a mild look of distaste.
Shaking your head, you continue on,“True? Well, Nezu listed it amongst some of your other questionable teaching practices such as threatening expulsion?”
Your hands tremble with remorse. U.A prided itself for its unique delivery of course content. They allowed teachers to do as they pleased within their classroom, even mid-semester expulsion if they saw it fit. Which Aizawa had, on multiple occasions. Apparently, he’d even expelled all twenty of his students on the first day of school a few years ago. Most of your peers dreamed of having that kind of authority in the classroom, they became starry eyed at the mere thought of being able to employ whatever pedagogical methodology they wished without having to adhere to curriculum expectation. You weren’t sure how they’d feel knowing you were expressly against such power.
“Are you trying to suggest that I’m a bad teacher?” The hurt in his voice is evident, the sincerity of it further fills the bucket of guilt that hangs off your neck.
“Not at all, just that you trained to be a hero not an educator.”
Tomorrow, or even twenty minutes from now, you’d regret reaching forward to place a hand on Aizawa’s crossed arms, “I don’t doubt that you care for those kids” the muscles in his throat tighten as he swallows and you’re keenly aware of his capture weapon sitting mere inches away from your arm, “And I’m not here to doubt you abilities, I’m just here because the ministry of education is concerned about the wellbeings of the students in the hero course.”
“They’re concerned?”
“It’s kind of hard not to be, they’re constantly in the news,” you say, sympathetic to the near constant villain attacks they had endured, “And the optics of a kidnapped student never look good no matter how it's spun, even if they’re a hero student.”
Aizawa rubs his chin with a sigh, “There’s no making this go away, is there?”
“Afraid not.”
You’re sure he feels your body shaking as you press closer. Your breath hitches.
“Besides, you’re really in no position to get rid of me,” you cringe when the words come out of your mouth but you can’t stop yourself from speaking, “Principal Nezu agreed, and if you really send me packing, it wouldn’t look too great on your end, it’d be all the more reason to question what goes on here.”
You’re right, he knows you’re right. You can tell by the way he sighs and tries to disguise it with a cough. You’re sure the way you invade his personal space doesn’t help your case or sweeten his opinion of you but it keeps you standing straight and prevents your knees from buckling beneath you.
He looks past you and down the hall, almost wistfully, “Would it really be so bad?” You ask, bouncing all on the balls of your feet, “Having me around would be a smaller workload for you to take home each night.”
The expression he wears tells you yes, it would be so bad, “You’re a civilian,” is all he says, a puff of air passing his chapped lips as he turns his gaze toward you, “If something were to happen, if there was another attack, you’d be in danger. You know that, right?”
“There are plenty of civilian students in the building, are you worried about them too?” You stupidly ask, crossing your arms over your chest. You’re sure you appear petulant, you feel petulant. You have to stop your bottom lip from jutting out in annoyance. Professionalism was still a bit of a struggle.
Your quirk wasn’t particularly flashy, but you had learned to use it for self defence as a teenager. Turns out, most didn’t enjoy being struck by lightning. They liked it even less when it came in the form of a spear— being a human sized taser had its perks. In any case, you were a nobody. No villain would take particular interest in you if their recent attacks were any indicator of their motives. They seemed to get their kicks terrorising teenagers.
“I’m worried about you,” Aizawa says with such conviction, that you’re not so surprised that he pursued hero work, “Working here, working with my class means having a target on your back. You realise this, don’t you?”
“I do.”
He clicks his tongue,“I don’t think you do,” deeply sighing, “You aren’t authorised to use your quirk even in self defence.”
“If I taught at a regular high school, I’d be expected to put myself in between my students and anyone who posed a threat without using my quirk,” you shrug your shoulders, “I’m prepared to do the same here.”
“This is different, this is serious. If you get caught up in an attack they could kill you or worse.”
Your skin crawls with an unpleasant feeling of dread. Goosebumps made your hair stand uncomfortably. What could be worse than death? You didn’t want to know. Aizawa clearly did. That’s why he didn’t find your blind acceptance endearing or brave. Just stupid.
Shaking away the nerves, you forced yourself to look him in the eyes,“The train I took this morning could have caught fire and killed me,” you say, like the thought of spontaneous combustion didn’t terrify you, as if you didn’t triple check your curling iron was unplugged each morning, “So could the raw flour in the cookie dough I ate last night.”
“You’re being far too flippant for me to take you seriously,” Aizawa doesn’t hide the roll of his eyes this time.
“Villains are dangerous, I get that,” you hope your voice didn’t sound as pathetic to him as it did to you, “I know what teaching here entails, I didn’t take this position on a whim.”
Aizawa’s dark, red rimmed eyes rake over you. He’s studying you, perhaps searching for a crack in your demeanour, for something to give reason for his refusal. A dissatisfied “hmph” passed his lips, they dip into a deepened frown. Whatever he’s going to say dies on his tongue as Yamada Hizashi– the pro hero, Present Mic– comes bounding down the hall, a tune humming under his breath, his head in the clouds. He sported his hero costume, seemingly more comfortable while dressed up than you did. His hair stands nearly straight up, a shock of bright yellow amid the calming pale blues and whites of the U.A hallways. Confidence oozes off of him, painting his aura in an alluring shade of something magnanimous. 
Yamada wore the hat of hero well, sending you a toothy grin when he caught your stare.
You suddenly get the state of being star struck. His presence was startling.
“You should go unpack your things,” Aizawa suggests when he takes notice of your gaping– though, this was not a suggestion. The thin press of his lips and finite tone that edged into his voice told you that, “We can talk further, later, after the school day has ended.”
You nod numbly, slightly shocked that you hadn’t been fired before you’d even had the chance to start. This was happening. Perhaps not in the way you’d envisioned but still. You hadn’t failed, not completely, not yet. The megawatt smile you throw at him makes your cheeks ache but you can’t stop it from forming.
“See you later, Aizawa-san.”
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