#classroom New Year décor

[noideabutsims]

It's heeereeeeee.....

🎉 Introducing Donut Co.'s Pre-School Play Set for The Sims! 🎉

Get ready to unleash a world of fun and learning with Donut Co.'s Pre-School Play Set! This isn't just a collection of toys, Simmers – it's a full-blown imagination explosion for your game! We're talking a whopping 26 new items, each more colorful and captivating than the last, ready to transform your Sims' world into a playground of endless possibilities.

Buckle up, because this is a wild ride of playfulness:

🏰 Dreamy Playhouses: These aren't your average forts – they're pint-sized palaces built from imagination-sparking blocks, just begging for tiny adventurers to explore their every nook and cranny. Watch as your Sim kids' creativity soars while they navigate secret hideaways, cozy corners, and magical rooms filled with endless storytelling potential.

🏠 Adorable Dollhouses: Every doll deserves a home as sweet as they are! These block-built dollhouses are bursting with charm and detail, perfect for inspiring hours of imaginative storytelling. Your Sims' children will delight in arranging furniture, hosting tea parties, and crafting elaborate tales within these enchanting little homes.

🌈 Decorative Block Towers: Sprinkle a touch of whimsy throughout your Sims' homes with these fun and funky block towers! From towering to toppling, these colorful creations are sure to add a playful touch to any room. Whether it's a centerpiece for a playroom or a quirky addition to a living space, these towers bring joy and vibrancy to every corner.

📚 Little Ones Reading Time Rugs: Make story time a snuggle-fest with our comfy rugs, now available in both "classroom clean" and "playtime messy" designs. We've got your back (and your floors!) covered. Your Sims will love gathering around for bedtime stories, building forts with these cozy rugs, and creating treasured memories with their little ones.

🚗 Build-Your-World Rugs: All aboard the nostalgia train! These detailed town rugs will transport your little ones to a world of imaginative play. Watch as they zoom toy cars down winding roads and create their own bustling communities. These rugs are perfect for playdates, family time, and solo adventures, making every moment magical.

🎨 A Rainbow of Fun: We're celebrating the joy of diversity with a burst of rainbow-bright colors! These playful hues aren't just a feast for the eyes – they're a reminder that every child is unique and special. Each blocky item comes in 2 rainbow-tastic versions! Rambunctious bright rainbow, and pretty pastel rainbow! Your Sims' homes will be vibrant, lively, and full of love with these beautiful additions. 🛡️ Safe and Sturdy: All of our blocks are made from soft, durable materials that are gentle on little hands and feet. Parents can relax knowing their Sim children are playing with toys that prioritize safety without compromising on fun. These blocks are built to withstand even the most enthusiastic play sessions, ensuring they remain a beloved part of your Sims' collection for years to come.

🎁 Ready to Play?: Donut Co.'s Pre-School Play Set is the ultimate gift for toddlers, preschoolers, and anyone who loves to let their imagination run wild. It's time to ditch the dull and embrace the extraordinary – the Pre-School Play Set is here to make playtime unforgettable!

Imagine the joy on your Sims' faces as they discover new ways to play, learn, and grow with this amazing collection. Transform your game and let the fun begin – Order Now and Let the Playtime Begin! 🌟

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ There are 8 functional playhouses (Dream home decorator required), 8 functional dollhouses, 8 décor items, and 2 rugs. All ages can play with the dollhouses, toddlers and up can play with the playhouses. If you want a functional version of the decor, check out the add-on nesting block set! <3 

Dream home decorator is REQUIRED to use the playhouses, the merged file includes them automatically so if you do not have it - please use the unmerged files More image examples can be found on the patreon and curseforge!! (Links with download!) HUGE thank you goes out to @TaurusDesigns because they truly saved the day on this set. They worked with me alot to help me fix countless meshing errors, shadow problems, in game errors, ect. Taurus went out of their way to help me make sure this could be published, and it would mean alot if you could go check out their stuff because they definitely deserve it! @NicAtNite88 also helped me out with testing some items in game so i wanna give them a shoutout as well, you can find some of the photos they got for me in game in the add on set! <3 (All of our CC can be found by typing " Donut " into the search bar! All 24 items are New meshes, and have all shadows and LODs. There is a slight glitch in the shadows on a few objects, but it only occurs BEFORE placing them down in game. Once they are placed, they are perfectly fine! you can find examples in images! <3

Infants that can sit up can play with all dollhouse block items, toddlers and kids can play too! Most of my images have my reshade on - it changes the color minimally, so white may look a little off in photos, but in game it will look white/normal!! In images you can find the non-reshade example! <3 You can size them up and down using the bracket keys. [ ] <- these ones.  I personally, use the tool mod to size my items up and down, and specifically with these if you are wanting them to be "perfectly sized" i would recommend you grab the tool mod by twistedmexi! If you would like to use it in build-buy mode, you'll need BBB!) Re-colors, and using this item as a mesh/base is fully allowed! you can include the mesh, and do what you please with the item, as long as you link back to the original. There are posts for all of our cc on our main 3 platforms (Tumblr, curseforge, patreon. ), So there is no reason not to link back!

Will be releasing more content soon! stay tuned! ❤️ (NOT affiliated with EA or Maxis in any way! We just make CC! ) ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ DOWNLOAD: Curseforge: https://legacy.curseforge.com/sims4/build-buy/donut-co-pre-school-play-set Patreon: https://www.patreon.com/posts/106701233?pr=true Google Drive: https://drive.google.com/file/d/1Ob5Fu3GC1NCu_jMBLSTyXH5ppi1wBZT_/view?usp=drive_link @alwaysfreecc @mmfinds @taurusdesign

[humanitys-strongest-bamf]

"get me a damned matcha" | Chapter 21: February II

{{ Chapter 20: January II | Chapter 22: March II }} Chapter Directory

they're so stupid, even after they've gotten together 🙄

if you wanna get tagged for updates, fill out this form here!

✧ pairing ➼ levi ackerman x fem!reader, college x coffee shop x roommates!au ✧ summary ➼ After you find yourself plagued with misfortune due to struggles in your personal and family life, you find yourself needing to move last minute. As a junior in undergrad with little money and little social support, you considered yourself lucky when you found a sublease that was close to campus and was relatively cheap. Unfortunately, it seemed that your roommate did not seem to be so excited regarding your presence. ✧ content/warnings ➼ fluff, fem!reader, both reader and levi being anxious over silly things ✧ word count ➼ ~5.1k

“Happy Valentine’s Day?”

You blinked at and raised your eyebrow at your vice president and his drastic change of behavior compared to the year before.

“What happened to you barging in here and shouting at the top of your lungs?”

“I have matured!” Oluo announced, with an authentic look of pride on his face.

“Sure you have,” you responded dismissively, maintaining your skeptical expression. You remembered Oluo essentially kicking down the door to the classroom last year, having decided that the entire building needed to know that it was Valentine’s Day. A part of you knew that your memory of it was only sour because your general mood around the holiday was horrible last year. Anything would have pissed you off.

You turned away from Oluo, who was desperately trying to save face after your comment, and looked up towards the new officers that you had picked out a few weeks ago. You didn’t have particularly high expectations for the first session that they would be running on their own. It wasn’t because you didn’t believe in Armin or Jean’s capabilities, but it would have been unfair for you to expect them to prepare something extravagant given the fact that they had literally just been promoted. You likely would have been fine with whatever activity they decided to settle on for today, but they made it blatantly obvious that it was a mistake on your end to underestimate them. 

They had picked up your trick of getting pastries from Nicolo, who had extended the discount to the newer officers. Given the fact that he was now fully in a relationship with Sasha, you were fairly certain that the discount would last for a while, which would be a solid source of support. The room was littered with red, pink, and white décor, primarily through the tablecloth on the pastry tables and little gift bags that Sasha and Connie had prepared together.

The most impressive part for you was that they were able to make the room and club activities seem thematic without putting that much of an emphasis on the romance insinuation that Valentine’s Day usually involved. You were fairly certain that if it was like this last year, your mood might have been saved no matter how bad your relationship situation was at the time. You knew that your relationship drama is likely why you wanted to stay as far away as possible from anything Valentine’s Day-related last year. 

However, things were different this year. Not only did you have all avenues of contact with your borderline abusive ex-boyfriend cut off, you also couldn’t live up to the standard of “being miserably single” like you could last year, even if that was just a humorous effort for you to defuse the tension that resulted from Levi insulting you after refusing to admit to himself that he had gotten jealous. 

Plus, being single last year meant that you really couldn’t care any less about planning anything official for Valentine’s Day. You didn’t have an obligation to anyone, other than the social pressure you had constantly felt about needing to participate in every social event you were invited to. Although that social pressure had somewhat subsided, the fact that you were now in a relationship meant that you now had an obligation to someone on this day—whether that was actually true or not was lost on you in the moment. The thoughts of whether you should have planned to do something with Levi or not were already creeping in.

“Any plans?” Petra asked as she leaned against the wall next to you.

“Hmm?” you mumbled, although it was more than audible with how surprised you were by Petra’s sudden question, as if she was reading the exact thoughts that were rushing through your mind.

“For Valentine’s Day!” she clarified, even when it clearly wasn’t needed.

You frowned and looked towards the ground, trying to think of what you had to do in the past. Unfortunately for you, the only experience you had was with Zack and he didn’t exactly set realistic or fair expectations. It had to be special or it wasn’t enough. It couldn’t be too over the top or else you’d seem desperate. It was a delicate balance that you were forced to navigate every year and even thinking about it now was giving you some residual anxiety regarding it.

“I’m going on a nice dinner and a late night drive,” Petra suggested.

“Wasn’t aware you were dating,” you grumbled.

“It’s a hit or miss,” Petra said with a shrug, “but I figured I should put in effort for Valentine’s Day.”

You frowned at her commentary. You knew that she wasn’t trying to imply anything or be passive aggressive, but it still made you feel like you were being negligent about the whole thing.

She glanced over at you with a genuinely curious look.

“So? Any plans?”

You did not, in fact, have any plans. However, now that the topic has been brought up, you couldn’t help but ruminate over whether you should have planned something for Levi. Despite having known him for around a year and a half at this point, you were currently drawing a blank when trying to come up with ideas as to what he would like. Even if you did figure out what he would have liked as a Valentine’s Day date—given the fact that you were thinking about it on the day of—everything would likely be booked out. It was too late to get dinner at a nice place and any daytime attractions would be closed by the time you got home. 

It was irrational, but you couldn’t help but imagine Levi’s disappointed look if he was expecting something and you didn’t provide. Part of you knew that he wouldn’t expect that of you and he likely wouldn’t even care for the supposed holiday, but you couldn’t shut your anxiety up. You didn't want to disappoint him, and this was for no other reason than the fact that you deeply cared about him. 

You immediately turned to Oluo, trying your best to conceal your panic.

“You can clean up, right? Or get one of the new officers to do it?” 

Your vice president looked over at you, not expecting the sudden question.

“Yeah? Great! Thanks!” you exclaimed before giving him a chance to respond or even orient himself as to what you were asking, before immediately grabbing your bag and walking out of the classroom at a hurried pace.

~~~~~

Even after you were well on your way home, your pace never slowed down. You weren’t able to even really process the walk home and found yourself on autopilot mode the entire time. You were entirely trapped in your head, internally freaking out because you did not know what to do.

When you were with Zack, planning something for Valentine’s Day was a must. You were always diligent about planning something out over a month ahead of time so that you could reserve the most ideal locations without having to worry about a rush. In return, Zack would pay or plan some small activity afterwards. It was the only part of your relationship that was anywhere even close to reciprocal. Although he contributed, it was still you that did most of the work.

You threw that lifestyle out the window after you broke up. You remembered stressing and putting your entire life on hold to make sure that you were planning out the perfect day. You weren’t interested in doing that again anytime soon. 

Given how volatile your relationship was with Zack, you really didn’t plan on dating again anytime soon, but Levi snuck up on you in a way that you never would have predicted. Although you’d never trade your relationship with him for anything else, dating again this soon meant you were completely unprepared for the concept of Valentine’s Day.

What do I do?! 

Your thoughts were chaotically running rampant through your mind for your entire walk home. You couldn’t think about anything else, but you couldn’t form a plan to move forward either. No ideas were coming to mind. You didn’t even know how to propose an idea to Levi at the last minute. The only thing you could imagine of him was that unamused and disappointed look on his face that you convinced yourself would show as soon as he realized that you didn’t have anything planned.

Panicked, you pulled out your phone to check the time. It was a few hours before Levi would get off his shift at the cafe and come home. It wasn’t really enough time to get anything solid planned, but it might be just enough time for you to put something small together to at least show that you put in the effort.

By the time that you got home, you still hadn’t really thought of anything that you could put together for him. There wasn’t a single suitable idea that came to your mind. You ran a play-by-play of your life with him through your head, but everything that came up was either too simple or too complicated, too effortful or not effortful enough—it was clear that nothing you could generate in your mind would be satisfactory. 

Not even bothering to turn on the lights, you immediately went into your room and shut the door behind you, pulling out your computer and pulling up the search engine. Your eyes were intensely gazing at your computer screen as your hands hovered over your keyboard without moving. You had begun typing some term related to ‘Valentine’s Day events for college students’ but immediately froze up because you already knew that most search results would involve something that would have required more time than you currently had to put something together. You were paralyzed without a single idea over what to do.

You knew it was silly to be this fixated on planning something for Valentine’s Day for your boyfriend that probably didn’t even care, but the only thing running through your mind was how Zack had reacted in the past whenever you failed to put something together. He’d get angry, act disappointed, and generally made you feel like shit over it. You knew that Levi wouldn’t do that, but you couldn’t shake off that paranoid part of you that kept on asking you what you would do if he did.

“Get your shit together,” you whispered to yourself, shaking your head in an attempt to get yourself out of your head.

You took a deep breath and forced yourself to type into the search engine. You had little hope that anything productive would show up, but you figured that even the smallest thing would be better than Levi coming home to nothing.

~~~~~

Valentine’s Day was as annoying as ever for Levi. The café had the obnoxious decorations, the undergrads cared for nothing other than the hot chocolates that carried an obnoxiously cheesy name for the sake of the holiday, and Levi was forced to witness more than a disturbing amount of people entering and exiting relationships left and right. Since it was technically a busier holiday, he got paid extra, but other than that, he really couldn’t care any less for the holiday, if it could even be considered one.

His only saving grace was that he was slightly less annoyed about the couples this year compared to previous years. This was only because of his newfound relationship with you, although neither of you really had that “honeymoon phase” since you had already known each other well before entering a relationship. Thus, he could sort of understand the sentiment about couples prioritizing this day for each other, but he still found it obnoxious that most couples decided to do so for public eyes to see.

“Hey Levi, got any plans?”

“Ah?”

Levi looked over and saw Nicolo approaching him, having finished restocking the pastries at his station.

“For Valentine’s Day! We’re closing at 7 today,” Nicolo reminded him. 

It was still around 4, so the café was still open for a few more hours and it was clear that he was itching to leave.

“I’m probably going to cook Sasha a nice dinner or something.”

“Didn’t you do that last year?” Levi asked with a bored expression, not particularly interested in the details of his coworker’s love life. 

“Yep!” Nicolo said with a nod, clearly not sharing the same concern with Levi over the repeated activity, although cooking a nice dinner could hardly count as a boring, repetitive way to spend the holiday. “You planning anything with _____?” 

Levi’s facial expression didn’t change, but he was suddenly at a loss for words. It wasn’t that he was particularly uncomfortable with talking about his personal life, but it just wasn’t something that he usually did. 

“Not that,” he said after remaining silent for a few seconds. “_____’s an absolute pain in the ass to cook with.”

“Well, there’s gotta be something, right?”

Levi knew that Nicolo was coming from a good place, but he just didn’t function in the same way. The concept of planning some extravagant event wasn’t something that he usually did, but that was when he was on his own. If a fancy and special plan was something that you were expecting, then he was woefully unprepared, and knew how much of a pain in the ass it would be if he went home and found you disappointed and upset. His bored expression quickly turned into that of a frown.

“What does she like?”

Levi at least knew the answer to that.

“She loves her damn Matchas,” he said with a scoff.

“That doesn’t count. You already make her a Matcha every day,” Nicolo responded dismissively. “C’mon, what’s out of the ordinary that she’d love?”

It was easier for Levi to come up with things that you’d hate than it was to point out even one thing that you’d love other than showing up with your favorite comfort drink. You weren’t that into gift-giving and had stated that the tradition of it on birthdays and around Christmas caused you active distress. You mentioned that public displays of affection generally embarrassed you. Levi knew that the two of you had a habit of going on scenic and romantic walks outside, but you already did that quite frequently, so it would be too ordinary to be considered ‘special’. 

He found himself getting increasingly annoyed, not thinking that something as silly as this would’ve popped up on his radar. He had emotionally prepared himself for an annoying day at work due to the heightened presence of undergrads, but didn’t consider the fact that he was in a relationship, and that today was the day meant to celebrate relationships. It just wasn’t something that came together in his head until now. It added stress that he hadn’t anticipated.

Still, a part of him felt like he should do something, or at least put in the effort to do something. He cared enough about you that he wanted you to be happy, or at least not upset—his opinion of you being a pain in the ass when upset had not changed. He didn’t want to come home and see you be disappointed.

Levi tutted to himself in irritation. He knew the remaining few hours of his shift were going to be nothing but annoying because he was now fixated on what to bring you home or if there was something extra he should have done to celebrate. The fact that he was even stressed about this bothered him. It hadn’t even crossed his mind when he woke up in the morning, but now, it was the only thing that he could think about.

~~~~~

This is stupid.

Levi repeated that thought to himself in his head as he glanced at the flowers sitting in the passenger’s seat of his car. He didn’t even know if you would like these, but he felt obligated to get you something. He had swiped one of the Matcha cupcakes from the café, but Nicolo’s earlier comment about Matcha's not counting—even if he was talking about the drink and not this flavored pastry—was stuck in his head. He had just started the drive home, barely making it a block down the road, before his intrusive thoughts got the better of him and he turned around to the nearest convenience store to pick up the bundle of flowers.

He had spent more time than he was willing to admit trying to decide what flowers to get you. What did you like? What didn’t you like? Was there some symbolic meaning that depended on which flower he chose for you? Would you even care?

The convenience store was about to close and he noticed that he was grabbing the attention of some of the other customers due to how long he had been standing there, so he eventually grabbed a bouquet of a random assortment of flowers that were so colorful that it hurt his brain to process it. The thought of the differently colored petals being littered throughout the house for the next few weeks irked him, although he wasn’t sure if it was truly due to the prospect of a messy apartment, or if it was simply because he was feeling anxious and overstimulated as a result.

He felt out of place. Not only did the act of him getting flowers for you throw him off, he was weirded out by the fact that he was anxious over whether you would like this or if you would make fun of him for it. On top of that, Levi knew about your history with relationships and how over the top you were forced to be for them, and it ended up giving him subtle feelings of insecurity of whether he’d be able to live up to those standards, which weirded him out further. He was grossly overthinking the whole situation, which was already unheard of for Levi Ackerman. 

Once he finally got home, he ended up sitting in the parking lot with his car in park, staring at the entrance to the apartment complex. He knew he was wasting gas by just sitting in the parking lot, not wanting to turn his car off yet given how cold it was outside. He had been sitting there in an attempt to calm his nerves for the past 10 minutes or so. 

He really was questioning why he was so anxious about it. It was you. While he couldn’t say that he didn’t give a shit anymore, he had never gotten worried about your perception of him. Throughout the many fights that the two of you had throughout your first year living together and especially throughout that summer, he had never once cared about if you were judging him or thinking less of him. It just didn’t cross his mind, and even if it did, it certainly wouldn’t bother him to the extent that it was bothering him now.

He couldn’t stop ruminating over how you would react to his last minute gift. You could either mock him for getting you an overly simple and basic gift, or you could get weirded out that he even got you a gift in the first place. He could see both occurring and they were equally uncomfortable to think about.

“Get your shit together, dammit,” he whispered to himself, finally gritting his teeth to force himself to switch off the engine and beginning to make his way into the building.

The walk seemed much more effortful than usual. It was similar to the phenomenon where the more you walked towards a certain destination, the further away it seemed to get. Part of him even wished that you weren’t home just so he can procrastinate on actually dealing with your response on the off-chance that it was a negative one. However, given the fact that it was already past 7pm, you were likely home already. 

Once he finally got to the front door, he found himself standing there, hesitant to go inside. How would he even give it to you? He wasn’t the type to give gifts and he couldn’t imagine anything other than awkwardly handing you the flowers and hoping that you didn’t notice how anxious he actually was. 

After a few minutes, Levi sighed to himself and unlocked the door, stepping inside. 

He froze once he immediately saw you pacing around the living room. 

You didn’t react that much more elegantly, letting out a startled yelp once you heard the front door open and saw Levi step inside. You looked like a mess. It was clear that you didn’t bother to change once you got home. Your jacket was still on and Levi could see that you haphazardly kicked your shoes off at the front door without bothering to put them up onto the shoe rack, which was unlike you, although that was a habit you had picked up once you realized how much it bothered Levi to have shoes lying around the floor. The lights weren’t on and you looked overly tense.

“...did you just yelp?” Levi asked, raising an eyebrow.

“N-No!” you immediately denied. “You just caught me off-guard!”

“I see,” Levi mumbled, clearly not believing you, as he stepped inside and began to take off his shoes, placing them upside down onto the shoe rack, switching on the lights afterwards.

As you watched him, you began to awkwardly shuffle, trying to shake off some of the anxiety that you had been feeling for the entire day.

“Uhm,” you finally spoke up, getting his attention. “So, I was dumb and forgot it was Valentine’s Day until roughly a few hours ago.”

You spoke slowly, gauging his reaction to see if he was getting upset or disappointed.

“So I couldn’t get us anything thing special,” you continued, “and I’ve been panicking trying to set something up, but everything’s closed or booked and I wasn’t sure-”

You cut off your rambling as you noticed something off about Levi.

“Wait, what do you have in your hand?” you asked as you noticed him holding something. He was slightly holding them out of view, but you vaguely saw the obnoxiously colorful petals of the flowers he had picked up for you. 

Levi awkwardly looked away, glad that the lights near the door were dim as the tips of his ears began turning pink as soon as you noticed what he was holding in his hand.

Your gaze on him quickly turned unbearable and he grit his teeth, shoving both the bouquet and the cake in your direction. 

You blinked at him with a surprised expression that was quickly replaced with a blush as you realized that he had gone out of the way to get you a gift for Valentine’s Day. It was simple, but actually really sweet, and you found a bashful smile quickly growing on your face.

“...Levi…” you said quietly, trying to hide your smile.

“Listen,” Levi started speaking with a subtle, defensive tone, immediately assuming that you were going to mock him for it, “Nicolo was giving me shit for not planning anything.” 

He was avoiding eye contact and was awkwardly scratching at the back of his head. You rarely saw him this flustered, if ever. It was refreshing and oddly endearing. 

“Sorry if it’s basic,” he grumbled. 

He barely got to finish his sentence before you went in and wrapped your arms around his neck, making him quietly grunt from the force of your hug. You immediately planted your lips on his, pulling him in a tight hug, setting the gift down on the table behind you.

It took Levi a few seconds to react, having been caught off-guard by your sudden act of affection, with his hands eventually falling on your hips as he returned your kiss, now flustered for an entirely different reason. 

“I love it,” you whispered after finally pulling away, “even if it’s basic. Why are you apologizing?” 

You were too close to notice the backs of his ears gradually growing more red, especially now that he realized that any anxiety he was having throughout the day was silly and uncalled for.

“...Just don’t usually do this sort of thing.” 

You tapped your finger against the back of his neck, his comment reminding you of your own dilemma that was occurring just a few minutes ago.

“I was panicking a bit because I couldn’t think of what to do for you for Valentine’s Day…I’m sorry to say I don’t really have anything,” you said meekly, giving him a genuinely worried look. “Are you mad?”

Levi blinked at you in confusion, scrunching his eyebrows together.

“Why the fuck would I be mad?”

You felt your cheeks heat up as he questioned you.

“Oh,” you began, finding yourself stumbling over your own words, “I…I-I don’t know…I just wasn’t sure if you’d be expecting something, and I wasn’t really able to prepare anything, so I thought you’d be upset or disappointed or-”

“You’re so stupid,” Levi muttered before pulling you back in and gently pressing his lips against yours again.

You smiled into the kiss, feeling a sense of relief. You were embarrassed now that you knew you were overthinking it, but still incredibly relieved that it wasn’t anything to actually be worried about.

“I can make it up to you?” 

Levi sighed, giving you an exasperated look.

“If you must,” he mumbled before quickly giving you another kiss. “With what?”

“Hmm,” you thought as you slightly pursed your lips in an attempt to come up with something that the two of you would actually enjoy. “Maybe we can split that cake and finish that show we started the other week?”

The corner of Levi’s lips tugged up into a slight smile.

“Thank fuck, I thought you were going to recommend going out or something.”

You looked away, his response further reminding you of the fact that you had wasted the first half of the afternoon freaking out over nothing. The bashful look on your face was more than noticeable at this point.

Levi grabbed your chin and made you look at him again.

“Sounds good,” he whispered, planting another quick kiss on your lips. “Let me change into home clothes?”

You nodded, slightly backing away so that he could get to his room to change. You watched him as he disappeared into his room. Once he shut his door, you glanced over to the flowers that he had gotten you, reaching for the pastry bag behind it. You were able to see that it was a small cupcake, but didn’t know what it was other than that. Upon peeking inside, you saw that it was a Matcha cupcake and a small smile appeared on your face, with you finding it incredibly endearing that he went out of his way to get you something Matcha-related that wasn’t the drink, purely because he knew about your small obsession with Matcha's and likely wanted to get you something different.

Grabbing the bag, you flipped the light on in the kitchen and grabbed a small plate out of the cabinet, carefully maneuvering the small cake onto the tempered glass. You grabbed two small forks and a napkin and took the cake over to the coffee table in your living room. You set down the plate and laid out the napkin in front of it to catch any crumbs so that it didn’t land on the table itself.

You turned on the TV and scrolled down through your list of saved shows until you landed on the drama you had recently started watching with Levi. The two of you had started it a few weeks ago, and Levi claimed that he was only watching it for your sake, but got oddly into it, constantly providing commentary on the plotline that clearly disproved his supposed lack of interest in it. 

After a few minutes, Levi walked back out of his bedroom, having changed into a t-shirt and sweatpants. You scooted over to the side and he sat down next to you, his arm propped up on the top of the couch as he leaned back.

“What episode were we on?”

You placed a finger on your bottom lip as you tried to remember what had happened in the most recent episode that you had watched.

“The one where he was trying to propose, but couldn’t get ahold of her, I think.”

“Tch,” Levi immediately tutted, discontent with the flow of the story. “Everything that comes up is bullshit. They’re just trying to drag the plot along.”

“Thought you weren’t interested.”

“I’m not,” Levi quickly responded with a frown.

The defensive tone in his response was not missed by you, and you immediately raised an eyebrow at him, clearly indicating that you didn’t believe him.

“I’m not,” Levi repeated with a scowl. “You wanna watch this fucking show or not?”

You shot him a skeptical look that non-verbally communicated ‘if you say so’ before turning to press play to start the episode. You heard him grumble something under his breath about how you have to make even cozy nights in difficult and you slightly shoved at him in retaliation.

You reached over to the other side of the couch to grab the throwover blanket, wrapping it around yourself as you scooted right up against him, resting your head on his shoulder, as his arm wrapped around you. 

Although you were quite embarrassed about overreacting, you were very grateful that he didn’t give a shit about Valentine’s Day, and found it quite endearing that he was just as stressed about meeting expectations for the holiday.

Every time that you felt that urge to prove yourself in your relationship with him, like you had to do for so many others before him—both platonic and romantic—you were reminded quickly after that he didn’t care about those small, superficial details. Your relationship with Levi was different, and it was different for the better. It was the only reason why he was able to make you feel how you felt around him. You were satisfied and happy, and didn’t feel like you had to keep up a ruse to satisfy a status quo.

You, as you currently are, with all the little nuances that made your life what it was, and all your little quirks that he had grown to love about you, were enough.

#: @levisbrat25 @gothgril69 @sckerman @berrijam @notgoodforlife @meowjaa @averysmolbear @roseofdarknessblog @bejewelledd @hhighkey @ayame236 @sad-darksoul @velouria17 @kamyru @l1zk4 @layenacreates @lamees004 @whoami-72 @highgoon69 @chaotic-on-main @levishotgf @nube55 @chosos-mascara @heichoucleanfreak @svftackerman @v4mp-wife @moonchild-angel @astri-ackerman @auriuswolve @noctemys @you-always-made-me-blush @raginginferno267 @sillygooseklaudia @jennamelinda12

[eddysocs]

Pit Of Vipers — Chapter Two (Quills And Potions, Knowledge In Motion)

Summary: Lisette buckles down for her first day of classes, excited for the opportunity to showcase her skills in Snape's Advanced Potions class while she embraces every moment of her last year as a Hogwarts student.

Word Count: 1,312

Warnings: None

Lissette inhaled deeply, taking in the comfortingly musty scent of Hogwarts Castle, feeling a familiar sense of awe and anticipation. The castle welcomed her with open arms, its stone walls exuding centuries of magical history, history she was aiming to be a part of. She had arrived early, as always, eager to settle into her dormitory and begin the new term.

As she made her way to the Slytherin common room, Lissette still marveled at seeing the familiar emerald and silver décor, the serpentine motifs that adorned the walls, and the low murmurs of conversation among her fellow housemates. It felt like a second home to her. She was going to miss it after graduation.

Finding her assigned bed, Lissette entered the room, greeted by the sight of four neatly made beds and a cozy common area. Her roommates were already there, engrossed in their own activities. Brynn, a tall and assertive girl with a knack for charms, was engrossed in a book, while Markus, a reserved boy with a penchant for transfiguration, was meticulously organizing his study materials. Jaxon, an outgoing and charismatic wizard known for his dueling skills, was leisurely flipping through a magazine.

Lissette wasted no time settling in, meticulously arranging her belongings and books on her designated shelf. Her eyes fell upon her favorite potion-making set, a gift from her parents. It was a reminder of the path she had chosen, and the advanced potions class she would be attending with Professor Snape.

As evening descended, the Slytherin first years gathered in the common room, eagerly discussing their first day of classes. Lissette smiled at their naïveté while perusing over her textbook, thinking back to her own first year and how she had been much the same. With a yawn, she let them continue their excited ramblings. She needed a good night's rest to prepare herself to be the best she could be starting tomorrow morning.

Lissette woke up feeling refreshed as she almost always did at the start of the term. She dressed in her neatly pressed Slytherin robes and made her way to the Great Hall for breakfast. The buzz of excitement filled the room as students from all houses chatted animatedly, their conversations blending into a symphony of voices eager —and perhaps also nervous— for the year to come.

Taking her spot at the Slytherin table at a seat in between Draco and her dorm mate Brynn, Lissette engaged in light conversation with her several of fellow housemates. They discussed their upcoming classes and shared snippets of gossip. Among them was an unconfirmed rumor that Professor Snape had assigned a particularly difficult potion as their first task of the term.

After breakfast, Lissette headed towards the dungeons, making her way to the Advanced Potions classroom. As she approached the heavy wooden door, she could hear the muffled sounds of students conversing inside.

Upon entering the room, she found herself facing Professor Snape, his intense gaze fixed upon the students as they filed into the class. His sharp features and billowing black robes commanded respect and demanded attention. Lissette took a seat that was directly in front of him, her heart pounding with anticipation.

Class began, and Professor Snape wasted no time delving into the intricacies of a potion called Elixir of Enigma. And the rumor she had heard earlier was true, as Snape had given only a mild background on the potion in question and they were meant to brew it from memory. A test on the first day. Lissette was ready.

Her focus was unwavering as she meticulously followed the instructions as she remembered them from her text, first organizing her ingredients; two unicorn tail hairs, 3 dragonfly wings, 4 dried mistletoe berries, 1 essence of moonlight (procured on a full moon, of course), 5 drops of phoenix tears, 1 cup of powdered moonstone, six sprigs of lavender and 2 cups of clear spring water. She’d spent the summer studying the potions in her textbook from front to back, brewing this one with extra care and attention.

She began by crushing the dried berries with a mortar and pestle, until they became a fine powder. Then, in her cauldron, she poured the clear spring water and the powdered moonstone, stirring it until it simmered over a low flame. Next she added the mistletoe berry powder, dragonfly wings and and unicorn tail hairs. It was supposed to brew for twenty minutes, stirring clockwise at five minute intervals.

As she kept her eye on the clock to know when to stir, she occasionally observed her fellow classmates as they tried their own hands at the Elixir of Enigma. It was a complicated potion, of that there was no doubt, but this was an advanced class for only the most promising seventh years, so come challenge was to be expected.

When her time was up, she proceeded to the next step, dropping the lavender sprigs in, very mindfully so as not to crush them and then let the concoction seep for the next ten minutes. As she waited this time, Snape made his way around the room, perusing each student's progress, frowning at some and merely grunting at others. She assumed the grunt was at least a sign of a modicum of approval, but she couldn’t be sure.

Her next move was to remove the cauldron from the heat and strain the mixture through a fine sieve, separating the liquid into a clean container. Into the liquid, she added the essence of moonlight and phoenix tears, stirring the mixture three times. After, she let it cool, which took most of the remaining class period, and she put the finished product into small vials for storage.

Being a potion meant to enhance one's cognitive abilities and unlock secrets of the mind, Lissette sampled one of the vials herself, showing her dedication to detail and her deep understanding of the subject matter by having no fear of any adverse effects. This impressed Snape, who regarded her with a rare nod of approval. She had passed her first test with flying colors.

Throughout the rest of her day, Lissette attended her other classes, including Charms, Transfiguration, and Ancient Runes. Her thirst for knowledge propelled her forward, absorbing every ounce of information imparted by the professors. She excelled in each subject, answering questions with confidence and displaying a keen intellect that set her apart from her peers.

As the day drew to a close, Lissette returned to the Slytherin common room, her mind buzzing with newfound knowledge. She found solace in the company of her fellow Slytherins, who chatted enthusiastically about their own experiences in the day's classes. Lissette listened intently, engaging in conversations about complex spells, magical theories, and the latest gossip circulating through the castle. This was shaping up to be a promising year indeed.

Amidst the lively discussions, the topic of the upcoming Quidditch match arose. Several Slytherins, including Draco, were excitedly planning their strategies for the match against Gryffindor. Lissette couldn't help but be intrigued by their enthusiasm, her competitive spirit yearning for a taste of the exhilarating sport.

While she did not consider herself an athlete, she joined in the conversation, offering her insights on the game and suggesting tactics that could potentially give Slytherin an advantage. With the sharing of ideas reverberating around the space, the atmosphere in the common room shifted, and Lissette felt a sense of camaraderie and acceptance among her housemates, even if she wasn’t a Quidditch player herself.

Eventually, Lissette's energy from the excitement filled day had waned and she excused herself from the animated discussions to retire to her dormitory. Settling at her desk, she opened her textbook for Advanced Potions, reviewing the day's lesson. She was certain she’d mastered the potion. The results would be in tomorrow and she needed to be well rested to keep up her momentum.

💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚

Chapter One <- 💚 -> Chapter Three

Forever Tag: @arrthurpendragon, @baubeautyandthegeek, @foxesandmagic, @carmens-garden, @fawera, @themaradaniels, @that-demigirl, @iloveocs, @bossyladies, @b1rvt4, @getawaycardotmp3

Lissette Serpens: @dancingwith-sunflowers, @zalera8310, @psychchesters, @bowiesdaughter, @ofbadcharacters, @luucypevensie, @madebyleftovermuses, @freshmoneyalmondathlete, @adrianas-ocs-and-such, @dollvi3e, @intelligence-strength-heart-soul

[vividwrites]

[ catch ]

While Penny loved every part of being a teacher, she had to admit one of her favourites was decorating her classroom. She had always had a crafty side to her, and exploring the décor aisle at the teaching supplies store always pushed her over budget, but getting to see the looks on her students’ faces when they walked into class, in awe of a new theme of dancing pencils or rainbow-coloured book pages plastered across their classroom always made it worth it. 

So the day before the first day of spring, Penny stayed late after school, making the switch from icy alphabet letters and sparkly snowflakes to tissue paper flowers, pipe cleaner bees, and construction paper grass. It was a long process, and she knew most teachers kept the same decorations year-round, which she assumed was the reason why when her co-worker, Finn, had walked by her classroom on his way out of the school, he offered to help. She had originally turned him down, thanking him for the offer but not wanting him to have to stay late after work when he surely had better things he could be doing instead of handing her tape loops and letting her know if her paper plate butterflies were hanging straight. He insisted though, especially after pointing out the ladder she had propped by her desk, and she agreed to let him stay. 

Finn had joined her when she was only halfway through taking down the winter decorations, and when she had caught a glimpse of the clock when her bin of spring decorations was nearly empty, she was surprised to see that Finn’s help had her classroom finished in much less time than she’d expected. She felt a small wave of sadness wash over her, though she knew it was misplaced. She should be happy that her classroom was redecorated so quickly, that she could call it an earlier evening than originally planned, but that also meant the time she was spending with Finn was ending early too, and the disappointment in that was unexpected.

She always knew she liked Finn; he was probably her favourite coworker. He was incredibly kind to not only her, but everyone around him, and he was especially good with the students. She was sure it took an unbelievable amount of skill, patience, and passion to introduce six-year-olds to music for the first time, teaching them to clap along to beats or sing along to melodies, and Penny found that extremely admirable. She’d even come early one day to escort her students from Finn’s classroom and got to see him play the drums for them, watching their faces light up as they oohed and aahed, asking him if he was a rockstar. It was just recently that when they greeted each other as they passed in the hallway or made small talk as they filled their coffee cups in the teacher’s lounge during recess, that she started to get a little flutter in her stomach that would only pass when they parted ways. But feeling that way was unprofessional of her, and besides, he hadn’t shown any signs of reciprocation, so she tried her best to push that feeling away and bury it as deeply as possible. It didn’t mean she was doing a good job at it, but she was trying, at least.

Finn was finishing with his pile of decorations, attaching a flower to the grass Penny had placed earlier, and then a bee to the flower, a scene of his own design. When he had stepped aside to show it to Penny, she gave him a glowing smile. “That’s perfect! The kids are going to love it,” she bubbled. She turned towards the decoration bin, pulling out the only piece left, a string of green and pink streamers. “Last one, then we’re all finished.”

Penny placed the streamers onto the table before grabbing the ladder, which she conveniently hadn’t had to use yet. Finn was much taller than her and was able to reach the places where she’d earlier planned to put the tops of trees and birds nests that she would’ve never been able to reach on her own without a ladder. She opened the ladder and placed it firmly on the ground near the wall, rocking it back and forth to ensure its sturdiness. Finn followed her over, suggesting that he could put the streamers up for her so she wouldn’t have to use the ladder, but Penny explained her vision to him, how she wanted them strung close to the ceiling, and twisted together in an extravagant way. She could tell he was unsure about her using the ladder, noting that it seemed like it had been stored in the school’s janitor closet since the 80s, and Penny acknowledged that was a good point. While she found it extremely gentlemanly of him to offer to do it instead, they decided on a compromise, that Penny would do the first few feet to show Finn the way she wanted it to look, and he would finish the rest. 

While Finn stood at the base of the ladder, Penny climbed to the top, taking the streamers and tape he handed her. She explained how she was making the twist and Finn nodded along in understanding, so Penny ripped off a piece of tape to secure the strand to the wall. When she reached out to place the tape, the ladder creaked, jerking forward, causing Penny to lose her balance as she perched at the top. She reached out to grab onto something in a panic, causing the ladder to rock and Penny to lose her footing, her heart skipping a beat as she fell from the ladder with a yelp. She was only in the air for a second, and the next she was in Finn’s arms, breathing heavily as she instinctively wrapped her arms around his neck to secure herself. 

“Oh my God,” she let out, turning to meet eyes with her hero. Her heart skipped another beat, for a very different reason this time. “Oh my God.” She tried to regulate her breathing while simultaneously trying to tear her eyes away from Finn’s perfect brown ones, but was only able to break her gaze away when he gently let her down from his arms and onto her feet. 

“Thank you so much. I’m so lucky you were standing there. Oh my God, thank you,” she repeated, smoothing out her dress from the fall. She tried to avoid looking directly at him, at least for the moment, not only out of embarrassment, but also because she worried that if she caught sight of his eyes again she’d get lost in them forever. “Maybe I just don’t do streamers this year. Or ever.”

[fashionitforward]

Check out this listing I just added to my Poshmark closet: New Crayola Teachers 4 Lot with Storage Basket: Certificates Decor Kits (Quebec).

[giftzworld-blog]

Back to School Items for Teachers: Essential Ideas to Start the Year Right

As summer winds down and the new school year approaches, teachers across the country are preparing to welcome their students back to the classroom. Whether you’re a seasoned educator or a new teacher, having the right tools and supplies can make a significant difference in your teaching experience. Here are some essential back-to-school items for teachers to help you start the year on the right foot.

1. Organizational Tools

Staying organized is key to managing a classroom effectively. Consider these organizational tools to keep everything in order:

Planners and Calendars: A good planner or calendar is indispensable for keeping track of lesson plans, meetings, and deadlines. Look for ones with plenty of space for notes and a layout that suits your planning style.

File Folders and Binders: Keep student work, lesson plans, and important documents neatly organized with file folders and binders. Color-coded options can help you quickly find what you need.

Desk Organizers: Desk organizers can help keep your workspace tidy and efficient. Consider using trays, pen holders, and drawer organizers to keep everything in its place.

2. Classroom Supplies

Stocking up on essential classroom supplies ensures you’re prepared for any situation. Here are some must-haves:

Writing Utensils: Pencils, pens, markers, and highlighters are fundamental tools for any classroom. Keep a good supply on hand to avoid running out mid-lesson.

Paper and Notebooks: Ensure you have plenty of paper for handouts, worksheets, and notes. Notebooks can also be helpful for your personal planning and record-keeping.

Art Supplies: Basic art supplies like crayons, colored pencils, and glue sticks are useful for various classroom activities and projects.

3. Tech Tools

Integrating technology into your teaching can enhance learning experiences and streamline your workflow. Here are some tech tools to consider:

Laptop or Tablet: A reliable laptop or tablet is essential for planning lessons, creating presentations, and communicating with students and parents.

Projector or Interactive Whiteboard: These tools can make your lessons more engaging and interactive, helping students to better understand the material.

Educational Apps and Software: Explore educational apps and software that can aid in lesson planning, student assessment, and classroom management.

4. Classroom Décor

Creating a welcoming and inspiring classroom environment can set the tone for the school year. Consider these décor ideas:

Bulletin Boards: Use bulletin boards to display important information, student work, and inspirational messages. Change them regularly to keep things fresh and engaging.

Wall Posters and Banners: Educational posters and banners can reinforce key concepts and create a visually stimulating learning environment.

Comfortable Seating: Ensure you have comfortable seating options for both you and your students. Bean bags, cushions, and ergonomic chairs can create a cozy reading nook or a flexible seating area.

5. Personal Care Items

Teaching can be demanding, so it’s important to take care of yourself, too. Here are some personal care items to keep you at your best:

Water Bottle: Staying hydrated is crucial for maintaining energy levels throughout the day. Invest in a good water bottle that you can refill as needed.

Healthy Snacks: Keep a stash of healthy snacks like nuts, fruit, or granola bars in your desk to keep you fueled during busy days.

Hand Sanitizer and Tissues: Keep hand sanitizer and tissues readily available to maintain a healthy classroom environment.

6. Professional Development Resources

Continuing your professional development is essential for staying current in your field. Consider these resources:

Books and Journals: Invest in books and journals related to education, teaching strategies, and classroom management.

Online Courses and Webinars: Explore online courses and webinars that can help you develop new skills and stay updated on the latest educational trends.

Conclusion

Starting the school year prepared with the right tools and supplies can make a significant difference in your teaching experience. By focusing on organization, classroom supplies, tech tools, décor, personal care, and professional development, you’ll be well-equipped to create a positive and productive learning environment for your students. Happy teaching!

[giftz-for-your-loved-ones]

🖼📚 Welcome Back To School D#2 Indoor Wall Tapestries – Transform your classroom or study space with vibrant and inspiring décor. Perfect for creating a positive learning environment!

[writingandimagining]

High Up in the Astronomy Tower (Part 10)

Part 1 | Prev | Next | Masterlist

Summary: You and Draco discuss Frankenstein after some stressful news.

Word Count: 2.5k

Rating: Teen (other parts M), 💗, 💔

A/N: There's a deleted scene in which Draco actually throws Harry a wand and rejects his parents trying to bring him back to Voldemort's side. I'm living in a world where that is canon. Scene here it's low quality and kind of chopped up, but I wish it was real (Draco redemption > Snape redemption don't @ me).

Add yourself to the taglist for updates here

You woke before Harry. You shifted and Harry’s arm momentarily tightened around your waist. You froze, but he quickly relaxed, and you slipped out of his grasp.

You glanced back at Harry, relief and anxiety twisted in your stomach when you saw his peaceful face.

You shook your head and pushed any thoughts or feelings you had about Harry to the back of your head. You had a lot to do today to prepare for the classes for the week.

You spent Sunday in your classroom duplicating the muggle books you had purchased and arranging them by year along the shelves you had conjured.

On one of the blackboards, you spent several hours making a very general timeline marking dates that were important in the muggle and wizarding worlds.

You then set to write a reading and assignment schedule to hand out. You had serious gripes with the air of mystery many professors at Hogwarts seemed to prefer regarding what would be taught so your goal was to be as transparent as possible in your classes.

The sun had long since set by the time you felt prepared for Monday.

The schedules for students were neatly organized at the desk upfront.

You had rearranged the desks into small groups. Then you had managed to find some furniture in the recently repaired Room of Requirement and décor to make the room feel more welcoming.

The two sofas you had brought to the room made an L shape by the bookshelves with a carpet underneath. The few lamps you had scattered around the room and the tapestries you had taken from the Room of Requirement were reminiscent of the dorm rooms.

You gave the room one last once over before extinguishing the lights and leaving.

The Great Hall held a few students as they finished eating, and you slid onto the bench at the Ravenclaw table to quickly get some sustenance in you before going up to bed and collapsing.

The Eighth Year common room was half full when you arrived, but you paid little attention and headed up to your room to shower and sleep.

Harry was absent, but you gave that little thought. You assumed he was with Hermione and Ron.

Your shower was quicker than normal because you wanted to be out and dressed before Harry got back. You didn’t think you could handle another incident like the other night right now, the memory of sleeping in his bed with his arm around you back with a vengeance now that you weren’t distracted by work.

You slipped into bed and thankfully sleep came easily.

Monday mornings were always the hardest, but your combination of excitement and nerves had you rising before your alarm even went off.

A quick glance at Harry’s bed and you saw him sleeping. You were glad he hadn’t had another nightmare, or at least one that woke you up, not that you would have minded helping him again.

You set your alarm a little bit later, trying to give Harry a reprieve from your supposedly unreasonable wake-up time.

You got ready quickly, grabbing your bag on your way out.

The common room was mostly empty, and you didn’t spot anyone you wished to talk to. Pansy and Theo were sat by the fire and they both gave you a sneer when you passed. You resisted the urge to roll your eyes, at least long enough so they didn’t see it.

Your anxiety about teaching today had you taking a detour to check on your classroom again.

The additions you had made looked even homier in the soft morning light.

You decided to distribute the books onto the individual desks because there was still time before breakfast even started.

Because you had the Fourth Years placed Lord of the Flies, Hamlet, Band of Brothers, a muggle history textbook, a textbook on muggles and magic, and the reading schedule on each desk.

Much to your surprise, the wizarding bookstore had actually had a decent muggle history textbook which had been written by a muggle-born wizard about ten years ago. The advances in technology since the textbook had been written made some sections out of date, but you figured you could supplement that easily with your own knowledge.

The muggles and magic book had caught your attention in the store. You hadn’t even been looking for it but once you saw it you knew you wanted it in the class. You hoped that grounding the new information in familiar knowledge would allow students to stay interested in the long stretches of the class that would involve very little mention or practice of magic.

You checked your watch and cursed. You had left you with only thirty minutes to eat by taking the time to organize and distribute the books.

You darted down to the Great Hall, slowing to a brisk walk when you noticed the odd looks from students as you passed. It probably wasn’t a great look as a professor to be sprinting through the halls.

You quickly made your way to the table and saw Harry, but no Draco.

You all but threw yourself into the seat in your rush.

“Morning Harry,” you greeted, shoveling some food onto your plate.

“Did you see the paper?” Harry asked, holding out a copy to you.

“I haven’t checked the news in a long time,” you replied, taking the paper from him. The Daily Prophet seemed to want to relive the Wizarding Wars every day and you had decided reading their less than legitimate accounts of the first and second war wasn’t doing your mental health any good.

Antonin Dolohov Escaped Azkabam Again? Is the Ministry Capable of Holding Death Eaters? Or Will More Go Free?

Your eyes widened.

You scanned the article. There was very little substantial information as most of the article was spent deriding the ministry for the sheer number of escapes that had occurred from Azkaban in recent years.

This was Antonin’s third escape and while the article had a point, it was more fear-mongering than anything else.

“What’s going to happen?”

Harry’s silence made your heartbeat pick up.

“He’s coming here,” Harry finally said.

“What? How do you know?”

The Prophet had speculated on Antonin’s goals, claiming he would try to escape the country, but there was nowhere a Death Eater with that level of recognition could go without being recognized. You weren’t sure Antonin’s movements could be predicted. He was incredibly unstable and violent, even for a Death Eater.

“Some prisoners they questioned had heard him muttering about his dedication to Voldemort and completing his vision.”

“And that’s reliable?”

Most of the prisoners had been there for years. Antonin himself had spent a total of fifteen years in Azkaban. It was a shock that he was even functioning enough to escape, but making plans to try to infiltrate Hogwarts alone? That seemed impossible.

“Lucius Malfoy heard him. He’s only been there a few months so it's reliable in that he’s not yet crazy.”

You blinked. “Why would he say anything against a fellow Death Eater?”

“Normally I’d say to save his own skin, but he claims Dolohov is not only after me but also Malfoy.”

“What? Why?”

“The only thing I can think of is when Draco threw me that wand.”

“There’s plenty of other Death Eaters outside of Azkaban that testified against Dolohov and the rest. How does Draco’s one action at the end of the war, an action that didn’t even prevent him from almost going to Azkaban, warrant that kind of attention?”

Harry shrugged.

“So, what do we do?”

“The ministry is sending a few Aurors to be stationed at the school and Hogsmeade. To keep the Prophet from finding out and causing a mass panic McGonagall has decided to keep this among the professors.”

You sighed. You didn’t want to underestimate the harm a Death Eater could cause, but you really doubted a single, barely hanging on to his insanity, Death Eater was going to get anywhere near Harry or Draco, much less break through the wards around Hogwarts.

“How’s Draco doing?” you asked after a moment’s silence.

Harry shrugged again. He seemed to not want to talk about it anymore and you pushed your curiosity down, wanting to respect the stress that this news was undoubtedly causing him.

You finished your food and made your way back to the classroom.

You let the few students already outside in and made your way over to the desk at the front. Murmurs and points at the decorations had your stomach turning over, but you didn’t see any particularly negative reactions.

“Please sit at one of the desks and we will get started in a few minutes.”

Students filtered in, sitting mostly within their house and set friend circles. You contemplated assigning them seats in the future to mix up the houses more. You would have to see how the next few weeks went before making another change.

“Okay! Good morning, everyone. As you can see, I have provided you with several books you will be reading throughout the semester. There is a reading and assignment schedule on your desk. Take some time to look over that and let me know if you have any questions.”

After a few minutes and no questions, you brought everyone’s attention back.

“As you can see, we have a few yearlong textbooks we will read alongside some novels, plays, short stories, and poems. I am going to do my best not to lecture much, so instead, you will have weekly textbook readings that you will have to do to be prepared for class. The times when we are reading the novels we will come to class and discuss them.”

You paused, looking over the students. A mix of interested and wary faces prompted you to continue.

“Great! First things first: muggle history.”

You moved to a blank chalkboard and began your lecture.

The Fourth Year class passed by easily as you went over some general information. You found yourself having to answer a lot fewer questions than you expected, but you assumed that was probably because you had started with the beginning of settled humans which was something wizards had a decent bit of education on.

Potions class went by quickly with Draco giving a lecture on Veritaserum and its ingredients. At the end of class, he handed out your graded papers.

You lingered behind the other students waiting until the last one had left.

“How are you doing?” you asked Draco, his back turned to you as he shuffled through some things on his desk.

“Could be better,” he replied tersely.

“I’m sorry. I don’t mean to pry.”

Draco sighed and turned around to face you.

“Honestly I’m just surprised that this is the first legitimate threat to my life and it’s coming from a Death Eater.”

“Are you at all worried about it?”

Draco looked away with a far-off look in his eyes.

“Antonin was one of the cruelest. He didn’t hold a candle to my aunt, but…” Draco trailed off.

A movement out of the corner of your eye and you saw Draco’s fingers dig violently into his left arm.

“Draco,” you murmured.

Draco jumped and released his arm. You said nothing, just watching him recollect himself.

“I doubt it’s possible for Antonin to even use magic without being detected. There’s no reason to worry.”

You nodded and Draco ran his hand through his hair in a movement that betrayed his denial of nerves.

You opened your mouth, but you had nothing reassuring to say.

“Have you finished Frankenstein?” you asked instead.

Draco raised his eyebrows at your sudden subject change.

“I did.”

“Well, I have to know what you think. Tonight?”

A ghost of a smile flitted across Draco’s face, and he nodded.

“Great! I’ll see you later, Draco.”

The rest of your classes went about the same as your first, but a few derisive comments arose. You quashed them quickly, but the threat of detention only seemed to quiet them. You could see it on their face that their attitudes didn’t change at your statements, but you didn’t expect that to happen overnight.

Dinner rolled around and the conversation centered around your classes for the day.

Harry left to join the Gryffindors when you got back to the common room, and you dragged Draco over to the loveseat.

You kicked off your shoes and removed your robe, tie, and sweater. Draco gave you an odd look but did the same.

You curled up in the arm facing Draco who sat much more composed on the cushion next to you.

“So?” you prompted.

Draco snorted and you resisted the urge to shake the thoughts out of him.

“It’s sad,” he said.

“No shit, Sherlock,” you quipped.

“Sherlock?”

“Muggle detective. Doesn’t matter. Just means you’re stating the obvious.”

“But it is. Nobody wins.”

“Should there be a winner?” you challenged.

Draco frowned. “Well, not wins. But nobody is happy. I mean they’re all dead at the end.”

“Well, the monster isn’t.”

“He wants to be.”

The look on Draco’s face caught your attention, but you can’t decode it.

“I do think it is sadder for the monster than Viktor.”

Draco gives you an odd look. Fair. Viktor’s whole family dies throughout the novel, his wife being murdered by the Creature. Meanwhile, the Creature doesn’t lose anyone and does terrible things to Viktor and his family. But you always think about how he didn’t have anyone in the first place.

“He didn’t ask to be made and then immediately cast out by what is essentially his father.”

A pained look on Draco’s face and it clicks. Draco sees himself as the Creature.

Your breath caught at the realization.

“Viktor is cruel and selfish to the monster and so the monster becomes cruel and selfish too. I’m not sure I can blame him for being so fucked up considering how he was treated.”

“He killed Viktor’s wife,” Draco replied with a look of defiance on his face. It’s like he wants you to admit a hatred for the monster, for Draco.

You nodded. There’s no excusing that and you won’t pretend there is a way to justify that.

“That’s when I stop feeling bad for him. He doesn’t try hard enough to change… But he’s also not given the space or tools to do it. There’s no clear good or evil here.”

Draco looks away and you wait patiently.

“Do you think we can blame our “creators” for who we are?”

“Blame? Not after a certain age. But it explains who we are, or who we were. An explanation isn’t an excuse.”

“And when do we start holding people accountable as individuals?”

“When they’re not children. When they’re not trapped.” Your reply was firm and pointed.

“What they did before doesn’t matter?”

“It does. But people grow, they change, they become someone deserving of forgiveness.”

Draco looks away and you resist the urge to reach out.

“Draco, you’re not a monster,” you murmured.

Draco’s eyes close as if he’s in pain.

“You’re not a monster.”

Draco doesn’t respond and you stand, gathering your clothes.

“If you’re a monster what does that make him?”

[princessozera]

Devious Licks pt 2; MC's devious lick

((Long post ahead))

MC paced their room, alternating between tapping a pen against their fingers to staring at the makeshift bulletin board on their wall. They were never one to back out a of a challenge, and now just about every student in RAD had stolen something. Most had only stolen smaller items; textbooks and classroom desk/chairs, one of MC's friends had even stolen a pair of gargoyles from the library ("THEY'RE A COUPLE MC, IF I ONLY TAKE ONE THE OTHER WILL HAUNT OR KILL ME." MC's friend has always been a little eccentric, but considering they were in the Devildom, MC didn't know if they were joking about the sentient gargoyle statues.)

It was 2 am, but MC couldn't sleep as they planned their own elaborate devious lick. While they knew their magic wasn't strong enough to do something like Mammon's double staircase or even Lucifer's library statue, they HAD to be better than Belphie's couch and Asmo's bathroom lamps. But the question was; what is something cooler than a couch and lamps that HADN'T already been stolen or pre-hexed by Lucifer? MC paced around their room for another 5 minutes before a picture on their desk caught their eye. It was a group photo in RAD's entrance foyer, MC and Satan had just hosted the first ever R.A.D science fair and all the winners and student council got together for a celebratory photo. They stared at the photo for a while, trying to find exactly why they were so drawn to it, when a lightbulb went off.

That could work. My room needs some new décor anyways.

The plan was easy enough to form since it mirrored what Luke had done, but MC made sure to pack a second backpack and a plastic tarp to maximize their chance of success.

Everything was straightforward and MC was actually kind of disappointed in how easily they pulled off their plan. No one had questioned the large item in their arms and no one noticed it was missing all throughout the school day. Maybe it wasn't as important as they originally thought. They were trying to figure out where to stash their loot in their room when Asmo burst in, dragging Belphegor with him. Whatever request he had started to make gave way to curiosity, asking about the tarp.

"Oh, I wanted to do the devious lick trend too so I stole the Demon King's old horn. You know, the one that was next to the award display case?" MC unwraps the horn and lets them see, surprised when they both stagger a few steps back.

"MC! That's not a horn, that's one of the Demon King's claws!" Asmo looked paler than normal and even Belphegor couldn't seem to find a snarky comment to make, clutching his pillow just a bit tighter. MC balks and looks back at the 'horn', immediately sticking out their hand.

"IT'S BIGGER THAN MY ENTIRE ARM. I- it-!!!" MC can't take their eyes off the claw, mystified at the revelation. The demon king had always seemed large in portraits with Lord Diavolo but he'd been a baby so of course his dad had been huge, but not THAT huge. What kind of eldritch horror size-

"MC I know you think this trend is fun and all, but you should put that back-"

"Yeah... Yeah, I'll do it tomorrow mor-"

"No way!" Asmo shoves the discard tarp back into MC's arms and waves them away. "If Lucifer catches you with that or Barbatos realizes it's gone we're ALL getting suspended for a year, we'll cover for you but go put that back NOW!" MC wants to complain, but it's probably for the best. If this had been more fun to steal maybe they'd be putting up more of a fight but for now they'll return it.

"Time for a new lick," MC mutters to themselves as they strap the claw onto their back, using the round trip from RAD to come up with their next brilliant stunt.

Why steal from a school when you can steal from a castle?

------

MC had gone alone over to Diavolo's castle a few times before, and on days like today knew that Diavolo and Barbatos would be too busy to entertain them so MC could go anywhere in the castle. Considering that there is a gala that's going to be held in a week, maybe even the Little D's would be too busy for Barbatos to order one of them to watch over MC.

MC's target this time was even larger than the claw, and they had to sneak a few tools from RAD's workshop just in case, so if anything this was a double steal. Diavolo had so many beautiful paintings in his castle, he could spare one or two. And with no laser technology or video cameras, MC didn't have to pull any tricks from the countless spy/heist movies they'd seen with the brothers.

Their prize was left of the entrance hall, 4 corridors down and past 5 doors. MC passed gilded vases and artifacts older than the castle itself until they came into view of their favorite painting. It wasn't the largest or most extravagant in the castle, but MC had found this when wandering the halls- avoiding yet another party of elites that Lord Diavolo had insisted they attend. It was a full body painting of Lord Diavolo's father, the demon king. Even in shadows, the dark colors of the painting radiated power and commanded respect. There was something comforting about the painting, and Diavolo often found MC staring at it, telling them a new story of his father's triumphs and accomplishments as king. MC always came to see it whenever they visited the castle.

Thankfully, MC didn't need any of the tools they stole to take the portrait off the wall, but it was larger than they originally thought, so all plans of sneaking it out in an art portfolio bag were out the window. Now their only hope was to waddle out of the castle before Barbatos or Diavolo came looking for them. They made it as far as the entrance of the grand hall when a voice called out.

"MC, you know it's not stealing if I can see you and I'm letting you walk out the door with it right?" Barbatos appears from around a column near the stairs, and for a second MC wonders how long he's been waiting there to catch them leaving.

"YOU SEE NOTHING, I AM SIMPLY WALKING WITH A LIMP BECAUSE I SPRAINED MY ANKLE DOING A BACKFLIP," MC yells back, not stopping out of fear that they would lose their grip and drop the portrait, but they did try to keep it perpendicular to their body so if Barbatos calls for them to turn around they could keep it hidden behind them.

"You don't know how to do a backflip."

"You cant prove that!"

"Bring the painting back by tomorrow or I'll make Solomon cook you a buffet."

"THAT'S COUNTS AS A DEATH THREAT-" MC yells back to cover up how much they were straining to keep a straight face- this portrait weighed A TON. They manage to shake the door shut behind them before finally dropping the picture for a minute, groaning in sweet relief as they let their arms rest. The 15 minute walk home turned an hour long, having to stop frequently to rest amd MC considered rolling the portrait at one point, but they decided that they liked living.

"Great. 2nd failure," MC groans as they prop the portrait against their desk, making sure to lock the door before flopping down on the bed. MC couldn't help but admire how handsome the Demon King looked. This must have been painted eons ago but MC was willing to bet he still looked f-i-n-e. Since they had to return the painting soon and the brothers were all gone, MC spent the rest of the day talking to the painting as they did their chores and homework. Inconsequential things, school work, the devildom's best features, their favorite food. But as MC went on, they couldn't help but think back to Diavolo's stories and wondered how the actual demon king would respond to a human in the devildom. As much as they tried to see it, the eyes in the portrait just never seemed cruel to MC.

"I'd love to get to talk to you before I leave. You might kill me, but it'd be interesting none the less," MC gave a wistful sigh as they continued staring at the painting. "But you'd have to be alive for that. Or at the very least back in the Devildom- Diavolo never told me what happened to you." When MC took a second to step back, they suddenly recognized exactly where this portrait had been painted. The elevated walkway, and 4 stairs cases cascading down to the next floor- that was where MC and the brothers had been sucked into the painting the first time they ended up in the snake-Labyrinth! MC remembers that there were another 3 floors to go down from there, but they'd never had the chance.

What were the odds the Demon King being closer than anyone expected?

----------

"Ah Barbatos, I thought I'd find you here," Diavolo smiles as he steps into the palace kitchen. "What are you baking today?"

"Midnight velvet cupcakes and lemon-blueberry scones with an herbal tea," Barbatos said as he closed the oven and set a timer for the cupcakes to cool. "MC should be here soon to study, so I decided to make some human desserts as well."

"I can't belive MC's been over twice a week for a month now just to study," Diavolo let Barbatos turn around before snagging an unfrosted cupcake, which Barbatos courteously pretended to not notice was missing from the cooling rack. " I considered if we should lower their work load, but since they only really need the palace library and not our help, I guess they're fine. MC is so quiet when they study that I even forget they're in the castle."

"Well MC has always been serious about their studies, but it would be good for you to check on them between tasks- as their host. Try as I may I can't seem to find the time so I usually send the Little D's to check on MC." Lord Diavolo nods as he continues to nibble on his cupcake, lost in thought. These less formal moments with Barbatos were special to him, but the heavy air he's been feeling all day has ruined the moment. He wanted to ask Barbatos if he's also felt a change in the air, but maybe he was just being paranoid- Barbatos would have mention if anything was wrong. Lord Diavolo and Barbatos continued to make small talk, and Diavolo even tried his hand at decorating a few cupcakes.

Before Lord Diavolo could make his way back to his study, the ground in the kitchen began to shake and both he and Barbatos grabbed the counter to keep upright. He flashes back to the "earthquakes" that MC told him about once, but nothing like that has ever happened in the Devildom. Once the shaking stops, little D number 2 runs into the kitchen, in such a panic he slams straight into Barbatos's legs and doesn't even think to apologize. He's breathless, rambling something about MC and the brothers and tugging on Barbatos's leg, so Lord Diavolo and Barbatos follow him out. They expect to head to the foyer, thinking the brothers may be in the courtyard or the entrance hall, but say nothing as the little D drags them to the throne room.

There, in the throne that was so massive it managed to dwarf Diavolo's demon form, sat the Demon King in his full 25 foot, ""human"" form, clearly visible over everyone's heads. Diavolo didn't pay attention to the brothers as he made his way forward, eyes glued to the borderline arrogant smile that Diavolo had only ever seen a handful of times outside of a portrait . As his father's dark amber eyes finally met his own, Diavolo reached to the front of the throne steps and caught sight of MC- sitting happily to the King's left, a ruby betrothal necklace nestled against their chest.

Bonus/the actual request/:

Diavolo reacting to MC's devious lick of stealing his dad ((I put some of my own HCs in to fill in Barbatos/Simeon's backgrounds))

Diavolo

Absolutely dumbfounded

There was no graceful, crown-prince appropriate way to handle this, and in his utter shock he resorts to smiling and nodding along to whatever his father was saying.

He had to be hallucinating right? How many times had he dreamt of this? Coming back from a stressful say at RAD, or taking a break from his paperwork to find his father back like he'd never left. Although his father's words were falling on deaf ears, his voice still resonated in Diavolo, a heavy vibration in his chest that was the only indication right now of the King's true power. It was like the weighted blanket MC had once brought over; it was welcome and so comforting that Diavolo felt tears prick the edges of his eyes.

But he couldn't understand the image in front of him. He'd spent a few good sleepless nights early on- worried about the program. Diavolo imagined his father would think unfavorably of it, of seeing humans on equal footing as humans. Of course he'd always hoped that it wouldn't be the case, be he'd never talked about such things with his father before he left. But here he was now, the Demon King lounging around with an easy smile, one arm thrown around the chair MC sat in to bring it closer, with warm and adoring eyes.

He couldn't keep his eyes off of MC or that necklace either. Did MC know exactly what they were wearing? Did they understand the implications? They had to, MC never did anything haphazardly in the Devildon, and they were far too relaxed in the face of the brothers' anger to not know.

When Diavolo said he wanted to use the exchange program to unite the realms and hoped his father would approve whenever he returned, this was probably the farthest possibility from his mind. He'd come to terms with his father's disappearance years ago, and had believed that the program would be 10 to 20 years in before the Demon King caught wind- far too involved for him to put a stop to it.

"When did they even-" Diavolo couldn't even finish the question in his head when the answer hit him square in the face. The biweekly visits. MC had been using their work as a ruse to come visit and hang out with father. Diavolo felt a little hurt, not even that MC had knowingly lied and kept this a secret from him, but a lie that could have been so easily discovered- like they didn't think Diavolo was smart enough to catch on. But in the end, he really wasn't since he and Barbatos had no idea this was happening right underneath their noses.

The clashing stress of a millennia ruling alone, elation at seeing his father, MC's seeming betrayal, along with darker emotions he didn't want to acknowledge were jarring, and Diavolo started feeling sick to his stomach- it was too much to process at once.

So for now, Diavolo accepted his father's hug graciously, feeling no shame in how strongly he hugged him back. Diavolo returned power over the Devildom back to his father with no resistance, and when Barbatos was sent to cook up a feast for the Demon King, he took the chance to escape the suffocating throne room.

Back in the quiet of his own room, Diavolo couldn't help but try to see only the positive in this. But for every time he tried to conjure up the imagined pride and happiness from his father, he could only remember his favorite moments with MC. He tried to tell himself it was going to be okay, now he could enjoy more time with Lucifer and Barbatos! He would still have full control over the student council and exchange program, but anything above that could be handled by his father again. He'd get to hang out with everyone and perhaps make more friends- but MC couldn't be one of them anymore.

As he focuses more on MC and their time together, he starts remembering how alone he'd felt before the program. Yes, Lucifer had been his friend before all of this, but he'd always been a bit detached, keeping Diavolo at arms length all these years. After MC came along and Lucifer's relationship with his brothers had improved, Diavolo had also become closer with all of them. MC's influence over all of them was not lost on him. But now MC had to stay with the Demon King. At any moment the King could order MC to stay in the castle, and if they wanted to learn, he'd get a private tutor for them- extend the library to an entire wing, fund research and all the little experiments MC wanted to do- as long as they stayed by his side.

Diavolo ignores the anger, the resentment, pushing it down as he's done so many times before. It use to be easy, anytime he started to get mad at his father leaving him, Diavolo could reason it away and go back to being excited at the prospect of seeing him again.

By morning, Diavolo is himself again, cheery and congratulating MC and the King on their relationship, much more receptive to his father's comments and praise. Diavolo fills him in on anything MC hasn't told him already, and tries his best to take it all in stride.

Everyone knows Lord Diavolo is happy for his father's return, but those who saw the newest family portrait couldn't help but wonder why it seemed that he was painted just a bit too far away, in colors just a bit too muted to match the loving couple next to him.

Barbatos

Rebellious

Of all the path's he'd seen for this program and MC's life, this was one he hadn't seen before.

He'd come to care for MC; he's prevented a handful of incidents for them and likes spending time with them. He did come to terms that they probably couldn't be together and that the brothers and even Lord Diavolo had a better chance with them, but this was uncalled for.

Barbatos couldn't help but feel a bit offended, but it was mostly because he was caught off guard- the Demon King coming back wasn't the sort of thing that would just "slip through the cracks", and for the King to have not annihilated MC on sight was nothing short of a miracle.

Since Barbatos had previously served under the Demon King, he caught himself right as he was about to take a step to be at the King's side. Always to his right and 6 steps behind, the omnipotent butler cloaked in shadows.

But if he was being honest with himself, his loyalties lay with Lord Diavolo now, so he stayed by the prince's side and hope the King wouldn't call for him.

Once Barbatos gets over his own disbelief, he keeps glancing back to Lord Diavolo, trying to figure out how he's taking it. The prince had come to master that easy smile, and even Barbatos was struggling to understand how deeply Diavolo was taking this to heart. He saw the way Diavolo looked, confused and a bit hurt between MC and the King, and if Diavolo challenged his father to the throne in that very moment, Barbatos knew whose side he would take.

Angels + Solomon

Luke is at risk of getting a heart attack right then and there. He wants to be mad at MC, to yell at them and shake some sense into them, but he can't even bring himself to stop shaking. The Demon King wasn't even trying to be intimidating, but Luke couldn't make himself look up to see where MC was. How could MC sound so bright and unbothered in this moment??

Simeon couldn't help but admit he was impressed; he'd always said MC was amazing and so charming in their own unique way, but getting the Demon King around their finger was something else entirely. However, he does think this is all some weird nightmare dream that he got from trying out Solomon's recent kitchen monstrosity. It takes a week and formal wedding announcements to let the shock subside into mild panic. He wasn't worried about the Devildom citizens, but Simeon couldn't help but wonder how the Celestial Realm would take the news. MC was a human and had no hold in the Celestial Realm, but human-demon marriages and subsequent hybrids could start a precedent that he thinks they would fight over. Hopefully, it wouldn't come to that again.

Solomon: "I'm not jealous, I'm not jealous, I'm not jealous, I'm not-" And if he was being honest with himself, he didn't know if it was because he'd rather be in the King's place or MC's.

Brothers:

going through the 5 stages of grief except most of them are stuck on denial or bargaining

Lilith, watching from the ghost realm: "HELL YEAH, GET IT MC!!! YOU'RE KILLING IT! "

[lady-assnali]

Before the school year starts, Denali has to set up her classroom. While thinking about her life choices, she gets to meet her neighbor. 

           The air outside is thick and soupy with the end of-summer heat, and not much is different inside of the school building. Denali has been here all day picking up supplies, getting a shiny staff ID, and walking the hallways to familiarize herself with the building,. There is an excitement within it all; she hasn’t felt the newness that September can bring since college, and although it hasn’t been long since then she finds herself relishing the idea of starting over.

           The change had been difficult to come to terms with, and when she looks at herself in the mirror or at her apartment full of unpacked boxes stacked along the walls of a tight-squeezed space, she still isn’t 100% certain that this move is the decision that’ll change her entire life. It’s a start, however, and there’s a silver lining to it all. Organizing her art supplies distracts her from the fact that she could have been competing right now, could have been winning. Instead, she’s organizing a table full of pastels, markers, and crayons by rainbow order along a wall-length countertop hugged by cabinets.

           So no, teaching hadn’t been her first plan. Or her second, really. But the idea of sharing this space with students with drive and passion for art has Denali feeling hopeful.

           Tying her hair back in a high ponytail, she assesses her new life path with scrutinizing eyes. The room feels welcoming enough, a slightly minimalistic approach to the décor kissed by little personal details; an oil painting of the lake she’d learned to skate on as a child, a photograph of herself and  parents holding her first place championship medal the year prior, a Picasso-esque rendering of a K-POP album cover (which she’d either swear was just good art or give a lecture on the album, depending on the person who asked). She’s blasting music from the desktop computer she’d finally beaten into submission, tucked into a corner of the room because how much do I actually need this as an art teacher? (Turns out, she’d been reminded that entering grades and attendance into their system would be more than necessary, as well as answering emails. Sigh.) It’s not as much of a bother, though, not when she’s hung a baby pothos in the corner and strung a set of fairy lights along the front of her desk. It’s the little personal touches that have Denali’s heart tilted more toward excitement-anticipation. I can do this. .

The music she’s listening to changes and she gives a little start upon hearing the opening notes of a classic Britney song, perfect to pull her from her pause and motivate her further. The room is now littered with discarded boxes, which she begins to gather and pile near her door.

           From the outside of the room, it sounds like utter chaos.

           Rosé had come a bit later than usual, walking down the hallway to the arts’ secluded little corner of the school with a grin. It’s her fifth year of teaching and she’s feeling fully confident in her abilities, excited to start the year having known all of her students for their whole high school careers, the seniors had started out with her as their teacher as freshman. They know her as the choir director, they trust her as their theatre director. In her fifth year the ginger finally feels as though she’s come into her own, and it shows as her footsteps fall confidently rhythmic through the halls.

           Coming to the door of her classroom, she stops. Music leaks through the doorway next to hers, bass and a beat and the faint sounds of a voice singing along.her curiosity is immediately piqued. Her neighbor for the past few years had been the haggard old Mrs. Sasse, grey-haired and tired and always slamming her door whenever Rosé let her class get above a whisper. She’d spent the first four years of her teaching career talking to the principal about why her choir obviously wouldn’t be spending their rehearsals at a lower volume, fielding hundreds of conversations beginning with “So a teacher near your classroom raised some concerns.”

She’d been sour upon hearing Rosé talk about her girl group outside of work, asking her to keep her “raunchy activities” to herself. It was a bit homophobic if you asked her, and she’d had half a mind to report her for harassment when June had come and Rosé caught wind of Mrs. Sasse announcing her retirement. Finally. Goodbye, Mrs. Ass. Any neighbor will be better than you were.

Unlocking the door to her own classroom, Rosé drops the box of supplies she’d been carrying in the doorway, flicking on the lights before abandoning her task. She follows the voice instead, the nine or so steps from her choir classroom to the art room filling her with curiosity. The music shifts from Britney to some catchy K-POP tune Rosé has heard at clubs and a voice from the room gives a delighted squeak, turning the music up even louder. The ginger can’t help but smile, which only doubles as she pokes her head in the doorway.

           The room already looks better than it had in the years before, brighter and more simplistic without all of the old, worn out decorations that had been there since the 80s. Inspecting the room, it seems as though Mrs. Sasse left everything for the new occupant to sort through. Within a pile of broken down boxes and full black trash bags, Rosé catches a glimpse of blonde hair and biker shorts. The new teacher has her back facing the door and wiggles her hips along to the beat as she carefully runs the blade of a pair of scissors down the tape of another box. Once it’s suitably scored the new teacher tosses it to the floor, maneuvering a little stomp on the cardboard into her improvisational choreography before kicking it over to the pile she’d started by the door. It lands right beside Rosé’s feet. Picking up the dismantled box, she grins cheekily at the offender.

           “Oh shit, I’m sorry, I didn’t-mm, I probably shouldn’t be swearing, right? Hold on, let me turn this down, I’m so sorry.”

           Rosé watches her scramble for a moment, rushing over to her computer and pressing hard on the keyboard until the bass is only a whisper of sound. She brushes a few loose strands of hair from her face, looks back at Rosé with flustered surprise lighting up her big, dark eyes.

           “Oh no, baby it’s fine. Trust me, you throwing boxes at me? Not the worst thing a teacher in this room has done to me. You’re the new art teacher?” Her company nods, brushing her hands over her old, long t-shirt before extending a hand.

           “Denali-uh, Miss Foxx, I guess.”

           “Rosé. I just barely skate by letting my kids call me by my first name. My class gets  loud, and I’m pretty much always in some kind of minor trouble for something, but I think I’m a pretty good neighbor considering.”

           “Clearly I don’t mind loud.” Denali laughs at herself and Rosé laughs along, a gentle warmth rolling through her body at the sight of the dimples framing the blonde’s lips. Both shuffle on their feet for a bit, the music changing once more.

           “Hey Rosé! Did you get the email I forwarded you from Aria Harris’s mom? I ran into her at the store the other day-buzz kill-and I told her you’d be able to answer the question. I think it was about honors auditions?”

           Rosé rolls her eyes at this, leans back out of the door to answer the passerby with more than a touch of sarcasm dripping from her voice.

           “Moms. Moms of kids who are perfectly capable of handling themselves. Now that never gets old.” She knocks her fists twice on the door frame, looks over the room and her new neighbor before nodding. “I should probably go answer that though because if I’m being honest, I do think that particular mother is perfectly capable of murder and I’d really like to keep my job, especially since it seems like this change means my neighbor isn’t a complete asshole anymore.”

           “‘Not a complete asshole…’ Glad I’m getting such rave reviews on my first day.”

           “Oh honey, just wait. You haven’t met high school yet, have you?” Denali shakes her head and Rosé shrugs, taking a handful of the broken-down boxes discarded on the floor. For a moment, she disappears from sight. Then, she pokes her head back in.

“Y’know, actually, I think high school will treat you very well.” She winks, taking the trash with her. Her voice floats down the hall and back through her door. “See you soon, neighbor.”

Denali watches listens to the sound of a door clicking open, a playlist coming to life, furniture scuffing along the floor. She adjusts her shorts over her thighs and turns her own music up again, humming to herself.

“See you later.”

[kward-the-local-cryptid]

Slytherin Stands

Self insert reader fic, about a Slytherin that manages to smuggle some students out of Hogwarts during the war.  Also, trans rights are human rights.  _______________________________________________________ Torturing someone was nothing new to you, but they didn’t know that. Alecto Carrow, the ugly twin, stood with an evil grin at the front of the classroom watching with a glee that made your stomach twist. Though once again, you were familiar with this. That awful guilt that tares at your soul as you clutch your wand, readying the curse. Familiar with the tense pain making your fingers spasm as your knuckles go white. Familiar with the only sound in the room being your roaring heartbeat in your ears. Your magic hated doing this. You hated doing this. 

Another whimper comes and breaks through the rushing of blood in your head. A first year Hufflepuff is kneeling at your feet, looking up at you. Those impossibly big eyes remind you of your first time. That fear, absolute yet still a slight edge of hope glimmering in the wetness of tears. By all the old gods, they look just like the muggle you tortured all those years ago.   No one is breathing in the room, no one dares. The curitartious curse is one even purebloods fear, your mother taught you that after she had taken you from your muggle father. Your halfblood status had made you a second-class citizen in Slytherin since your first year. This is your third year. You had been thrilled to learn that enough people had signed up for alchemy as an elective, that the growing rumors of war and increasing death eater attacks fell into the background. Yet now you were staring right in the face of war, and it was an elven year-old crying in front of you. Waiting to be tortured.   The spell begins in your chest, just like last time. All dark magic grips you in a way that tenses your body in an icey chokehold throughout your body. Your eyebrows furrow as the spell begins to form. There is an intake of breath in the half a second it takes for you to start casting. The other third year Slytherins and Hufflepuffs watch with wide eyes. Carrow had decided to make the older years watch as one of their young badgers was tortured, fucking bitch. That small hatred that moment of fury towards Carrow seals the spell, you have the right amount of magic. “CRUCIO!” it bellows from your chest, the magic power exploding out of you, as your wand is pointed at the Carrow twin. She falls onto the desk, twitching and screaming violently thrashing about the bits and bobbles she had decorated with. Power in your casting arm surges with an intense pain as the ice like grip tries to get you to stop. But the bitch is still conscious, still thrashing though not screaming anymore. With your left you steady your hand and keep the curse going. Not until your own body starts to shake are you able to convince yourself to stop. Warm relief floods your entire body. Maybe that’s why people get so addicted to the dark arts. That release of pain and icey grip fills you with an elated warmth that almost brings a smile to your face. But looking at the crumpled from of Carrow laying among her broken décor keeps your stance rigid and unyielding to the pleasure washing over you. You turn to the class, uncaring about the tears streaming down your face. From the Hufflepuffs there are looks of confusion, gratitude, and joy. You try not to think too much about the joy. With heart in your throat you look at your fellow Slytherins. Expecting to see hatred or malice, for them to judge you for torturing Carrow instead of the first year. Yet you find none. Relief and awe swirls on the faces of those who have not perfected the art of hiding emotions. Two years of taunts from your fellow classmates and from the other houses had made you bitter towards their opinions. You had taught that all the children of Hogwarts believed everything their parents did. Hating you for being a half-blood, hating you for being a Slytherin. But looking at their faces, you suddenly remember. All of you are children. Children who were barely through a fraction of their whole lives. Children who were forced to do and see terrible things this past year. Children, who had no way to fight against those that were bringing them harm every single day. Helpless. You were meant to be making friends and studying magic, trying to figure out what the hell to do with you lives. Instead you were being forced to torture and maim other children because of a war you had no part in. All the young faces staring at you, none of them wanted what their parents wanted. None of them wanted to live like this anymore. And now you understood, you had to help them. You are familiar with this, giving everything you had for your ambitions. Torturing to earn your mothers’ approval. Torturing to save one little Hufflepuff. Staring at those faces filled with relief and some now filled with tears, you had a new goal. You were getting them all out of here. “We are leaving Hogwarts.” Your voice cracks as breath finally comes back to you, tears still flowing freely but no one points that out. “I have access to a safe house, gather whoever you can and your essentials. We have 20 minutes before the next class. Move quickly and discreetly. If you can manage, leave everything behind.” Your proclamation is met with nods and a hardening of eyes. No thirteen year old should look that old. “Y/N.” One Slytherin steps forward. Derrik Blowstrotter, pureblood, steps forward, “How do we sneak out to get what we need?” Blowstrotter had always been brilliant. Top of the class, clever in a way that even the older Slytherins took note of. To ask you was to put blame on you if anything went wrong. Or at least that is what you think at first. Yet there is a gleam in her eyes that tell you to follow her lead. This won’t put blame on you, it establishes you as a leader. “Only six of us can leave all together, if the others see a whole class roaming, they’ll send alerts. Pick three for each house to go and gather other people and collect essential valuables. Only essentials.” You carefully send a warning eye to all the group, “Two at a time can leave but stagger when you come back as well. Bring who you trust.” Hufflepuffs pick their chosen quickly and send their first two out. The Slytherins only pick one person to go and check for others. Like you, they carry all their most valuable things on them, just in case. As the groups keep working, you turn back to Carrow, still lying in a heap on the table. With two attempts, you manage to summon rope and tie her up. Before you still kneels the Hufflepuff tears and snot pouring from their face. Before you can make any remark, the tiny Hufflepuff launches themselves around your midsection. Burying their face deep in your waist. They were ruining your uniform, but you still hold them. Rubbing small circles into their shoulder blade. “I know it was scary,” you say soothingly to them, “but I need to set up transportation to the safe house.” The first year grips you tightly but then lets go, stepping back and nodding up to you. With a small smile you nod down to them, then make your way up to the Dark Arts office. Umbridge had set up an untraceable floo two years and you knew it had not been taken down yet. That information cost you a full month of extra essay writing, but it was worth it now that the fireplace was ready to escape into. True to your instructions all of your classmates were back. Hufflepuffs were handing out their requested items. From a cursory glance it looked like many asked for a trinket or a picture. The puffs had managed to get ten other kids without too much fuss. Three were younger siblings who were joined at the hip with their brothers and sisters. Seven were wounded. Bad bruises barley healed; most were Gryffindors that had disappeared over the weeks. The Syltherin chosen returned with twelve students, making a comment about Carrow asking for more test subjects to get some of the group. Some where siblings, a few more of the injured Gryffindor’s, and some taken directly from the hospital wing.   “The floo is ready, we need to move quickly. It could be monitored without our knowing. I’ve set it up for mass transport. Keep your wands out until you pass through, just in case.” As you are ushering the others up the stairs a small hand takes your own. You don’t need to look to know the first year Hufflepuff is not holding onto your hand with a death grip. For good measure, you keep your wand pointing at Carrow as the others ascend the stairs. One by one, each student goes through. Gryffindor’s are hesitant but still follow their eager Puff friends. Eventually you manage to get the first year and yourself through the portal, landing the old manors living room. It is wide enough to hold all of you comfortably, but this is the largest room in the house, taking up most of the first floor. For a moment, the gravity of your situation hits you. You just smuggled 42 students out of Hogwarts and tortured a Carrow to do so. Before your mind can spiral and take note of this, a tiny hand squeezes yours. You look down into those impossibly big eyes again and see an expectation that fuels you into action. Waving your wand you seal the floo fireplace and lock it from being opened until you give express permission. Turning you address the group, all of whom are looking towards you for guidance. “There is a potion room through the second door to the right of the kitchen, anyone good with brewing get started on remedies for injuries. Bruise balms, skelegrow, calming drafts, whatever you can make with confidence. Do not try anything you are unsure about. Those injured are to remain in this room and wait for the rest of us to find or conjure beds and sleeping bags for you.” You keep an even glare at some of the older Gryfindors, who eventually either shuffle from your gaze, huff while crossing their arms, or given you a thankful nod in return. “Uninjured and those not good at brewing or cooking, take all the pillows, blankets and mattresses, bring them into this room. The kitchen was stocked and sealed, so if you know how to cook make a simple meal. Soup and bread I think will be the only thing most of us can keep down right now. Anyone who is familiar with warding come to me.” Injured kids sat or were helped to the floor or available chairs as the others began their assigned tasks. Thankfully it looked like a large number of the Slytherins went to brew, though a few decided to help find pillows and blankets. An older Ravenclaw and battered Gryffindor come over you to.   “Is the house already warded?” The Gryffindor asks. A sarcastic jib dies on our lips. You recognize them, three years your elder, and made your life hell. Part of you wants to mock them for wanting to help the “slimy Slytherin” but you hold your tongue. That look in their eyes, those bruises and poorly healing cuts tell you all you need to know. They have been through hell just like the rest of scared children in your old family manor. Suddenly it hits you, it doesn’t matter what the color of your tie is now, part of you wonders why it ever did. Now you are both much older than you should be and understand that petty squabbles over house points are through. There are much more important things to deal with now. “It has blood wards keyed to me alone but I don’t know how strong they are. The last time they were erected we used the traditional jar method. Nine throughout the property, extending three miles on each side of the house.” The Ravenclaw is taking notes and drawing something while the Gryffindor nods. “Those should hold fine, but we ought to add some extra wards and warning systems to the interior and just outside of the original wards. Perhaps even a warning system just outside of the original barrier as well?” The Ravenclaw shows the sketch of their proposed layout. Lay lines activating the new and old wards. It’s magic you have dabbled in but are willing to take their lead in this. With a nod the three of you discuss who is casting which part and how to check the original wards. You are the only one who knows how to pass through the barrier and you all decide it should stay that way. You leave the wards to cast the new warning system and disillusionment charms.   Walking in the early afternoon air makes the world around you sort of hum. Casting the spells and recasting the protections and double checking the old wards takes the better part of three hours. The entire time, a small and deathly quiet Hufflepuff is still clinging to your hand. It is the only thing grounding you and keeping you in the moment. They had covered their ears when you cast the magic to leave the wards. Chances were the firstie didn’t know how to block mind magic attacks. It’s not until you triple check the last protection point that you pause in your work. Just at the East edge of the property, sits a private beach. Its white sand and crashing waves remind you of peace but you can find none. The world is crashing down on you, like the waves upon the sand. Any moment you’ll be swept away. More tears come. Harsh but silent as you stare out across the open waters. You are a child, stuck in a war you never wanted. And now you were here. Leading a band of smuggled children to the house that was meant to be yours when you came of age. That was supposed to be when you were seventeen not now. Seventeen seemed so far away for so long, promise of freedom from your mother and from the taunting words of your peers. Now that hope of a peaceful future died and you wept for the loss of something you could barley name. You fall to your knees, listening to the crashing waves. Small arms wrap themselves around your neck and hold you. No words are said, nothing can be said in this moment.   You are no longer a child and you weep for all that used to mean to you.

[officialsporkintheroad]

“How long have you been standing there?” “Longer then you’d like” -Tomione

(A/N: it's only been, you know, over a whole ass year since I received this ask, but THANK YOU Kyoki again for such wonderful inspiration <3 hope you enjoy)

please feel free to send me prompts

She didn’t have long. Most of the students and professors were still in the Great Hall for lunch, but there was always a chance Riddle would leave early. It was risky, breaking into his office—the defense professor’s office, no less—and in the middle of the day, too, but it was the only real hole in the man’s schedule.

He was a notoriously early riser: among the first to arrive at breakfast and among the first to leave. Then he’d spend the rest of the morning either in his office or in his classroom. In the afternoons, he had back-to-back classes half the week and office hours the rest of the time. Weekends were spent catching up on grading, research, and paperwork, and he rotated between the library, his office, and the courtyard with enough spontaneity that Hermione couldn’t reliably tell where he’d be and when.

Except for during lunch.

It had been easy enough to fake a mild stomachache to get away from Harry and Ron. They wouldn’t understand—they liked Riddle. He’d wooed the majority of the Hogwarts population with flashy spells and displays of power, with his classic good looks and cool, mysterious demeanor. And true, there was no denying the man was brilliant.

But he made her skin crawl.

It wasn’t the sort of thing that had been apparent at first. Like the rest of the school, she’d been awed by him. The sheer breadth of knowledge he possessed was incredible enough, but to be able to utilize it so efficiently in a duel…to be able to flow from one spell to the next without so much as blinking, without a single uttered word. It was mesmerizing, like nothing she’d ever seen before. And on top of that, he’d been a good teacher: thorough and invested, tough but fair. Respectable.

It was just…there was something off about him. The more Hermione watched, the more certain she was. Maybe this suspicion had started when he had dispassionately demonstrated the unforgivables, face blank except for a raised brow as he cursed the beetle with the cruciatus. Or maybe it was before that, when he’d nearly smiled at a particularly brutal hex Malfoy had thrown at Hannah Abbot during a duel. Or maybe it was the emptiness in his eyes as he assessed them.

“You’re just pissed he gave you an Exceeds Expectations on last week’s essay rather than an Outstanding,” Ron had accused, and when she’d turned to Harry to see if he thought the same, he’d only shrugged.

She hadn’t argued it further with them. It was, after all, just a hunch. That’s why she needed proof. Which led her here.

Riddle’s office was unextraordinary. The walls were lined with bookshelves, packed with his own personal collection of academic texts. A large, flat stone sat off to the side—a resting place for his snake familiar—while the majority of the room was occupied by a hefty desk. On the whole, the room was simple, largely unadorned, and yet it still spoke to his character.

Intelligent with an unquenchable thirst for knowledge. She quickly glanced through his bookshelves. They were organized by subject and then by author, and the topics spanned everything from runic warding to dark creatures to blood curses. Nothing particularly out of place for a man of his profession, though she noted there seemed to be an obvious preference for books of a darker nature.

Which is his job, a voice in her head that sounded annoyingly like Harry pointed out.

The presence of the warming stone seemed to indicate some care for the comfort of others, though Hermione had a hard time fitting that with the image of Riddle she had in her head. In fact, based on her observations, he seemed far more likely to revel in someone’s discomfort. She frowned. Perhaps his familiar is an exception. Still, he didn’t seem particularly…doting on the snake.

Not a matter of kindness or consideration, but of practicality. Yes, that fit better. The entire office was designed for efficiency. There was nothing extraneous: no texts that did not assist in academic research, no unnecessary wall décor or portraiture, no furniture aside from the desk and the two chairs—one for him, and one for visitors.

Even the chair is designed to be uncomfortable, she thought, almost a little amused. It looked new and to be in good condition, but it was narrow and thinly padded. Not the kind of seat you’d want to linger in. Encourages quick meetings.

And then the desk itself. A small calendar sat upon it—color coordinated, organized—alongside an inkwell and several freshly sharpened quills. A stack of graded essays was tucked off in the upper left corner. The rest of the desktop was cleared. Neat. Possibly intolerant of messes?

Hermione waved her wand over the desk, murmuring a slew of spells designed to reveal wards, barriers, and alarms. There were a few minor protections but nothing insidious. Of course not. He’s clever, too, and cautious. Nothing dangerous or truly secret is going to be kept in his office.

She wasn’t stupid. She’d known that this was a long shot, but she’d been hoping for…something. Something she could take back to the boys and use as leverage to launch a more in-depth investigation on Professor Riddle. Though she supposed it was difficult to find incriminating evidence when she wasn’t entirely sure what she was looking for.

Quickly, she undid the easiest of the locking charms on the first desk drawer and peered inside. Ungraded classwork. Next. The second drawer contained sheet after sheet of handwritten notes. That’s better. Except that they were…complex, difficult to follow. One looked like half a potions recipe—some sort of…sleep potion, perhaps?—while another was filled with dozens of questions about the function of wand movements and what they added to spells, and yet another was a highly detailed theory on human transfiguration.

Hermione mentally revised her assessment of Riddle from brilliantto genius. It was one thing to acknowledge that Riddle was an expert—a prodigy, even—in defense against the dark arts and combative magic, but this…this suggested he was just as knowledgeable in a wide range of subjects. She flipped to the next page of notes and her brows raised even higher. Adding runic elements to potion-making to help negate the contradictory herbal effects…is that even possible?

Hermione swallowed a lump in her throat. If she was right about him—if her gut instinct was true—then Riddle was a phenomenally dangerous person. Detached, efficient, insanely smart, and strong, too. Combined with potentially questionable morals…She didn’t even really want to think about it.

A throat cleared, and Hermione’s head snapped up. She knew, even before she saw him, that it would be Riddle standing there, and her stomach churned.

“Granger.”

“Professor,” she returned, proud that her voice didn’t shake even if her hands did. He arched a single dark brow, the rest of his stupidly handsome face terrifyingly impassive, a silent demand for an explanation. “I was just—” She trailed off, realizing his notes were still in her hand. She wet her lips nervously. “How long have you been standing there?”

Stupid question. Stupid question. Stupid question.

He hummed. “Longer than you’d like, I’m sure.”

Slowly, gracefully, he stepped further into the room. And then, with little more than the flick of his hand, the door clicked shut, lock sliding into place.

fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck

His eyes—dark, emotionless, bottomless—locked onto hers, and a jagged smile so unlike the practiced ones he wore around the castle cracked his mouth.

“Oh Hermione,” he tutted, voice mocking. “What am I going to do with you?”

[poppinisperfection]

Cool. || Peter Maximoff x Reader pt. 1 ||

Peter Maximoff x fem!human!Reader

(Y/n) is history teacher.

Requested.

Word Count: 3543

Notes: Peter acts a little strange in this, he's not being cold on purpose - so keep that in mind. Let's all presume (Y/n) is an independent woman who doesn't let an aloof guy ruin her day 💫 it's more of an introduction, so sorry if that dissapoints y'all. I hope you enjoy this extremely long piece of writing, let me know what you think. Requests are open 🙌

Taglist: @amourtentiaa @scorpionchild81

Masterlist

I flicked the indicator, as it clicked rhythmically and signaled my next turn. Grasping the steering wheel tightly, I wondered whether the direction I was heading in was the right one. My eyes drifted down to the small business card that was beginning to wrinkle from the amount of times it had been read and re-read.

‘Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters.

407 Graymalkin Lane, Salem Center, Westchester County, New York’

With a deep breath, I pushed my foot gently on the accelerator and turned the wheel - solidifying my decision. I drove down the graveled driveway as the evening sun pierced through the acres of fields and forests that dotted the landscape. This place was unlike any school I had ever seen. I had taught at various institutions of all kinds during my training, but something about this place was like something out of a fairytale or Jane Austen novel.

The old academic building grew closer as I prepared to slow down my vehicle and stop at the entrance. I peered around, trying to see if there was any places dedicated for me to park; but as far as I could tell, this was the only appropriate place for me to stop. 

I pulled out my key and felt the car’s engine fade to silence. I didn’t notice how comforting the gentle grumbles of the vehicle had been until they were gone. Now, all that was left was my mind and the thousand worries that crashed around inside it. I'm not a mutant, but I often wonder if being anxious about everything is some sort of weird useless mutation that I unfortunately had. 

Before I could become consumed by my menial fears, the vintage wooden doors opened up as if on cue. A man in a chair wheeled out as his familiar face smiled at me, and I was honestly quite awe-struck by his sudden appearance. I had spoken to Professor Charles Xavier on the phone before (for the job interview), and I had watched him on television a few times, but something about actually being near him was so incredible. This man changed the lives of so many people, possibly even the world.

I took a deep breath in and returned the kind smile, opening my car door and placing my feet onto the ground - the gravel crunching underfoot.

"Professor Xavier, it's so good to meet you." I spoke nervously, unsure of what I should do with my posture. Should I shake his hand? Should I high-five him? Should I bow? Okay maybe those last two were a bit far-fetched...

"The pleasure is all mine, (Y/n)." A voice rang through my head, as if it were my own thoughts speaking to me. But I recognized the voice, a smooth English accent that belonged to the world's most famous telepath.

"Incredible..." I breathed. Some might find it intrusive or freaky, but I was quite honored and honestly dazzled by his abilities. A figure appeared behind the wheelchair-bound man, distracting me from my child-like awe.

"Don't be a such a show-off, Charles." my attention turned to a tall man wearing a pair of glasses and a smart checkered shirt. "Good Evening, I'm Hank McCoy." he piped up cheerily, holding out his hand for me to shake. I absentmindedly took it, a bit starstruck by the world-renowned engineer, scientist, blue-furry man, and genius.

"(Y/n) (L/n)." I eventually spoke up, causing Hank to raise an eyebrow at my words.

“’(L/n)’? You're the new history teacher?" I nodded at his question, "Oh wow, you came so highly recommend that I presumed you'd be a bit more... experienced?" he chose his words carefully as to not offend. I know that most people picture an old greying woman who wears outdated fashion when they think of a history teacher...

"Oh, I'm young, I know." I explained with a bashful chuckle. 

“Hank, you of all people should know greatness is not defined by age.” Charles turned to his colleague. 

“I read that you graduated Harvard at 16.” I blurted out. 

“15, actually.” McCoy mumbled humbly. Xavier gave a satisfied smile as his point was proven. 

“(Y/n) here was top of her class, and I have no doubt that she’ll be a wonderful addition to the school.” the wise mutant stated, assuring Hank and giving me a boost of confidence. “Come inside, Hank can carry your bags for you, won’t you?” the professor inquired cheekily as McCoy threw him a look of slight distain. 

“Somedays I wish I wasn’t born with super-strength...” the academic man shook his head - the comment laced with light-hearted sarcasm - before heading to my car and pulling out my two bags, not even giving me a chance to politely object to the offer. 

“Ignore him, he’s just grumpy because he’s not on the mission.” Professor Xavier chuckled, turning his wheelchair around and beckoning for me to follow him inside. 

“I only trust myself to pilot that beauty.” Hank mentioned wistfully, probably referring to his famous aeronautical creation.

“’The mission’?” I questioned with intrigue, trailing behind him and entering the grand entrance.

“The X-Men are on a routine escort mission for the President at the moment,” my attention turned away from the antique décor as I choked on my breath slightly at his words. Of course I had heard of the famous troop of mutant heroes, but it just suddenly became so real. I was living where the X-Men lived. You know, the same X-Men that saved the world from complete destruction. “I was hoping they’d be here to show you around - but duty calls.” Charles finished. 

“Oh of... of course, duty...” I managed to mutter out eventually, earning a slight laugh from the Professor. He didn’t need to be a telepath to read my mind right now. I was so obviously astonished at the whole situation. I couldn’t believe that I was finally here, after months of thinking, considering, and second-guessing. I knew it was a risk, and I couldn’t even return to my parents if it failed.

Let’s just say that my folks weren’t very supportive of my decision to teach at a 'mutant mansion', as they would call it. Maybe it was stubbornness, maybe it was bravery; but I ignored their advice and became determined to come to Xavier’s School for Gifted Youngers. Now it was my only chance, since my family won't be welcoming me back anytime soon.

I followed Charles around, as he showed me all the rooms and explained some of the history as Hank make the odd comment or interjection. Most notably that the house was actually only a few years old, owing to the fact that the school had been blown up and rebuild a year ago. That was a fact that I could’ve gone without knowing. All I could do was hope that it didn’t blow up again, or at least not when I was around anyway. 

"Your classroom will be right next to the library," Xavier motioned towards a pair of wooden doors that lay open for students to walk freely into, "and feel free to check out any of the books as well - I have a few secret shelves for teachers, with some unregulated research papers on pre-20th century mutations, if that sounds interesting to you?" he added with a playful smile, as I nodded my head in admiration. This place sounded like an absolute dream, and I've only been here for less than an hour.

-------

As we strolled (and wheeled) down the wooden hallways, I noticed the students disappear one by one. By the looks of it, the early night had truly set in, and the majority of children were either in their rooms studying or hanging out in a common area.

"I suppose there's nothing more we can show you until the class starts tomorrow morning, I was really hoping that the team would be back by now..." Xavier gave a short sigh and furrowed his brows slightly, "But I suppose I've prolonged your tour as long as I could. Perhaps Hank, you could show (Y/n) to her room and she can rest in preparation for tomorrow." his smile returned as he asked his colleague for another favor. McCoy nodded his head and gave me a polite smile, still carrying around my bags from earlier. Maybe he didn't anticipate the Professor giving such an expansive and detailed tour of the mansion, so the bags must've been getting burdensome at this stage.

The spectacle-wearing teacher walked ahead of me and strolled towards the grand staircase that lead to the upstairs area (which we had previously travelled to earlier, but it's mainly bedrooms that we couldn't intrude into). I trailed my fingers along the carved bannister of the staircase, admiring the craftsmanship. Considering the school had been blown apart; this place looked as though it was straight out of a historical drama. The Professor could've went for a more modern update, like the ones you see in magazines and government buildings - but something about the simplicity of 1980s architecture just seemed cold and clinical. I'm glad they kept the historical charm alive.

"So you're really not, well, you know..." Hank broke me out of my daydreaming as he turned his head slightly and paused at the top of the steps. It took me a second to register what he was asking, but then it hit me.

"A mutant? Oh," I gave a meek smile before answering, "No I'm just a regular 'homosapien', completely boring." my sentence ended with a light chuckle at my own expense.

"Then you'll be the first non-mutant teacher here, you're making history." McCoy replied with zest as he began to walk down the hallway again.

"I thought I was supposed to teach history, not make it." I chirped from behind him, earning a snort and chuckle from the nerdy fellow (I know, I know - I'm a superb comedian).

As we passed by the student rooms, I could hear the various sounds emerging from behind their doors. One was gossiping loudly to their friends, another was blasting ABBA and singing along, and I could've swore that I heard some quiet sobs escaping through the keyhole of one door. My face fell into a frown as we passed by, and Hank paused slightly, before turning to me.

"That's Sophie Smith's room, she's homesick a lot." he whispered to me, his features showing concern. "You might have her for a class, so maybe keep an eye out if she's struggling." Hank suggested, as my heart went out for this student. I gave him a nod before we continued on our neverending journey towards my room.

Eventually, we stopped at the end of a corridor and my guide dropped my bags carefully on the wooden flooring. He twisted the door knob with one hand, and I watched as the door opened and revealed my bedroom.

"’Home sweet home’, as the saying goes." Hank uttered with a light tone. I stepped into the room and took my bags from the floor, carrying them in with me.

"It's so..." I breathed, observing the room.

"I know, we were supposed to get the curtains changed last month, but there was a mix-up and it's been dela-" he tried to explain, but I cut him off.

"Oh no! I was going to say, 'It's so perfect'." I clarified, brushing off his embarrassment at the state of the curtains (which were beautiful anyway). I stepped forward and placed my bags at the end of the bed while gazing at the beautiful room. This place was growing on me more and more with each minute that passed. 

“I’ll let you get settled in for the night then, there’s a copy of your timetable on your desk - it has all the information you’ll need for classes and etcetera.” Hank gestured to the neat pile of paper sheets on the wooden desk, “There’s always food in the kitchen, feel free to eat whenever and whatever you want.” he added, as my attention turned to my empty stomach. I will definitely be visiting the kitchen after I get settled in. 

“Thank you, for everything.” I beamed, unable to truly express my gratitude. He returned the smile and nodded, before shutting the door and returning to his business. As soon as his footsteps disappeared, I fell flat on the quilted bedsheets and sprawled out, giving out a pent up sigh. It was the kind of sigh that released anxiety and replaced it with assurance. From the looks of it, things were going to be alright - and there was nothing more satisfying that knowing you made the right decision. 

My brief escape into my feelings was cut short, as my stomach audibly warned me that it was running low on fuel. I turned my head and looked over to the beside alarm clock, reading the time; ‘8:24p.m.’

“Hmm,” I mused as I considered my options, “I should probably read you first...” my eyes drifted to the timetable that sat untouched on the desk. My belly did not agree with this decision, as it grumbled once more. “Okay, alright... yeesh.” I placed a hand against my abdomen, trying to settle the noise. “Food first, read later.” I threw my legs over the side of the bed and resolved to make my way towards the school’s kitchen. 

-------

Finding the kitchen was no problem, as the Professor showed it to me at least three times earlier. I guess he really was trying to stretch that tour out as much as possible. A few of the older students who were hanging around glanced at me as I entered the room. I couldn’t tell if they knew I was a teacher, or if they just thought I was a new student; either way, they didn’t stick around to find out. The group of teenagers grabbed their snacks and left the room once their privacy was interrupted. Honestly, I just think they were gossiping about some pop music band and didn’t want a stranger listening - so I didn’t mind their swift exit. It left me with some privacy as well, which was nice. 

I noticed a small radio sitting in the window sill, and decided to switch it on to break the silence. A static noise rang out as I extended the antenna and turned the knob carefully. Soon a voice grew clearer, and I had reached a station playing something. I just let the song play out, since I didn’t want to bother with searching the airwaves for something else. 

I stepped over to the pantry and surveyed the contents carefully. I was starving, but I couldn’t figure out what for. I picked up a loaf of bread and placed it on the counter, deciding it would have to be a PB & Jelly sandwich. Grabbing a plate, I began to craft my makeshift dinner. Absentmindedly, my head began to sway gently to the tune that played through the tinny radio speaker. It was one of those cheesy love songs that are always playing these days. There was something so catchy about those songs, and instinctively I began to mouth the words and drift into an MTV daydream. 

My brief escape from reality faded away as I noticed a clinking noise coming from the glass and cutlery. It was almost like an earthquake, but I knew that New York was unlikely to experience that kind of disaster (well I hoped so, at least).

A bright light shone outside the window, and I stepped closer to peer out. The basketball court had opened up and revealed a massive basement beneath it. A few seconds later, a black jet descended gracefully from the dark sky and lowered itself underground while the whole mansion trembled with the power it created. I swiftly grabbed the jam jar as it almost slipped off the edge of the counter, and stared in awe. 

“So that’s where they keep it...” I breathed out as the basketball court returned to its normal state, as if nothing had happened. I stood in wonder for a few seconds, still holding the jar tightly in my hands. That was probably the most of the X-Men I’d be seeing tonight. I’m no expert on presidential mission debriefing, but I presumed the team of elite heroes wouldn’t be mingling with the common folk upstairs for at least an hou-

“Ugh, this song’s a real bummer.” 

I nearly jumped out of my skin as a voice suddenly quipped from beside me. My attention hastily turned to a combat uniformed young man - quickly flicking through the radio stations. I stared at him, half confused and half terrified of his sudden appearance. Slowly I began to recognize his features; silvery hair, aloof attitude, and of course, the recognisable X-Men uniform. 

“Hey - you’re that guy...” I tilted my head slightly as I spoke without thinking. In a split second, he appeared at the fridge wearing an entirely new outfit, this time more casual. The music had changed to something more rock-y and alternative, matching his aesthetic. I was almost certain of it. I couldn’t remember his name, but I’ve definitely seen him with the X-Men on the news. I was almost certain of it.

“Nah, you’re thinking of a different guy.” he responded without second thought, while lifting out a can of some kind of soda. I felt my mouth contort in confusion, bemused by his comment. 

“I...” my thoughts paused to phrase my words correctly, “You were just wearing an X-Men uniform, you’ve got to be him.” I managed to retort, causing the confident fellow to raise an eyebrow. With the blink of an eye, he had disappeared from my sight again. 

“So, you don’t even know his name - and you’re convinced he’s me?” the silver-haired guy stated nonchalantly from behind me as he sipped on his drink. I gasped and grabbed my chest in surprise, not expecting him to sneak up behind me like that. I gave a sigh and prepared to answer the question. 

“I know, I’m sorry.” I closed my eyes and wracked my brain for a moment, “Peter, right?” I sighed, finally recalling the speedy mutant’s name. I looked up at him and expected some sort of witty remark. Instead, he just stared at me for a few seconds. I avoided his gaze awkwardly and looked down at the jam jar that still sat in my hands. Clearing my throat, I placed it carefully onto the counter beside me - trying to distract from his sudden silence. 

“Oh.” I mumbled at the change of topic, “I am. Only arrived here a few hours ago. The Professor showed me around earlier, with Hank, I saw all the classrooms and it was really quite-” I harped on, “I'm sorry, I'm rambling..." my voice lowered, as I watched the casual fellow open up a bag of pretzels and munch on them absentmindedly. He gave a soft chuckle at my apology.

“So, you’re new here?” for the third time, he appeared in a different location, leaving me to turn around one more time. He faced away from me, opening a drawer and surveying its content silently. 

"Cool." he replied simply, placing a few more pretzels into his mouth.

"Cool." I repeated gently, trying to decipher his aloofness. This 'Peter' was blunt, distant, and almost cold. It was as if I had offended him somehow. I stared at my surroundings for a brief moment, before deciding to get off of the wrong foot.

"I'm sorry if I was rude earlier; or was it that I couldn't remember your name?" I tried to find the reason for his indifference, wringing my hands with nerves. Peter raised an eyebrow and scowled slightly at my question.

"Rude?" he asked with a shocked tone.

"Yeah, I thought I offended you?" I explained.

"Nah, nah, we're good." he shrugged my theory off and zoomed over to the bin, throwing the crumpled wrapper in it. "I gotta go now, X-Men stuff." Peter turned to me and excused himself. I gave a soft 'oh' in surprise, and held out my hand for him to shake (just a teacher habit, I guess).

"Nice to meet you anyway, Peter." I smiled at him. The silvery guy just stared at my hand and then looked back up to me - but for some reason, avoided my eyes.

"Cool." he said again, before disappearing from sight; leaving me standing there, alone, holding my hand out for no one. Slowly I lowered my wrist and cleared my throat.

"Cool..." I said to myself, still entirely confused by the interaction. My attention quickly turned to the change in music. The radio suddenly shifted from the grungy tunes, back to the end of love ballad that I was listening to earlier. He must've changed it back. I tilted my head and stared at the little radio in the window, listening and thinking.

Maybe he wasn't as cold as I thought. Maybe I'll try and get a better conversation from that silver-haired boy tomorrow. Maybe I'll get that handshake from him. Maybe.

Still, the only thing that matters right now is that I eat that PB&J sandwich.

-------

[lets-redesign-yansim]

Let’s Redesign Akademi High School

First off the name. Let’s just change the name to a last name, cause that’s easiest, let’s go with Hoshino Academy.

The main setting of the game is the school, so it’s important to flesh it out. Personally I don’t have a major issue with the layout of the school. I think the central courtyard is a good idea, the school is fairly easy to navigate, there are a lot of diverse areas to the school, the layout is not a major issue.

As a whole I think the major issue with the location itself is cohesion. Take for example these three rooms.

They feel like they’re all from very different locations, not three rooms in a high school. I think that this could be improved by having a neutral color scheme for the walls/floors and then have most of rooms with wall décor and furniture that changes. For instance the drama club room might be more like a dressing room connected to the theater, or be a dance rehearsal room. The martial arts club during the day has the mats rolled up in the corner of the room. 

In addition some of the clubs probably wouldn’t be approved by a prestigious school, so I think it would be more interesting if some of the clubs were more unofficial. For instance the Occult club operates in one of the storage closets, or the gaming club is instead a more informal group of friends in the computer lab. I think that this would make the social dynamics more apparent, for instance you might lose some reputation points for joining the occult club. 

Next, the uniform. 

The current uniform used by the game, as many have pointed out is the “sailor uniform” which in japan is essentially a middle school uniform. A lot of people have pointed this out before. Although the uniform is iconic in anime, it carries some pretty uncomfortable undertones. These characters are wearing a uniform for very young students (japanese middle school students are ages 12-15) while the characters in the game are implied to be sleeping with older men for money or being seduced by their teachers or taking photos of girl’s underwear. All of these elements are pretty gross at any age but the idea that they’re dressed up as middle schoolers makes it even more uncomfortable. So my solution is to use a high school uniform.

This is a common high school uniform style in Japan. The summer uniform style in silhouette looks very similar to the sailor uniform style. Make the bow red and the skirt blue and the girl’s uniform is very similar to the previously established sailor uniform.

Plus with this version you can add more on top of it. For instance giving the student council blazers while everyone else wears the summer style, different characters can have different sleeve lengths or skirt lengths or add sweaters or different kinds of bows/ties. Characters can look vastly different while still adhering to a uniform beyond just excessive hair accessories or stockings. 

In addition with the summer uniform male characters can also have variety in their uniforms. With the male uniform currently employed by yandere simulator there is little variation for male students. With the summer-style uniform you can have various sleeve lengths, ties, or add jackets onto the uniform to vary male students.

Next is the staff. 

The staff is too sexualized. The two teacher rivals will get their own posts but I think it’s kind of gross how sexualized the female faculty is compared to the headmaster, I know he’s supposed to be older but we all know why the female staff is designed the way they are to be sexy for the dev. 

The teachers all look alike, which I don’t think is a huge problem, maybe just changing some of their hair colors if they are intended to be distinct individual characters but keeping them similar makes them quickly recognizable. The guidance counselor I think looks fine but should have a different outfit, the hyper-sexualized outfit is too much. Conversely I think that there should be some male teachers or something, it just feels strange that all of the teachers are just sexy women. 

I also think it would be interesting to have the staff be more fleshed out. Some of them have favorite students or are supervisors of certain clubs. This would give more obstacles in the social dynamics of the school. Killing one person affects a web of others, insulting one person affects a web of others, befriending one person affects a web of others. And I think that should include the staff. 

Finally the mechanics of the classroom. 

Currently on each day the player can attend two classes of their choice. The options available are biology, chemistry, language, physical education, and psychology. These classes are intended to improve certain skills utilized in the game. Language in the final product will likely improve speech checks, and chemistry will likely allow you to use more poisons, etc. However I think that since school is such a major part of the game, it should have more utility.

Obviously it would be boring to attend a full class, but I have three ideas of random events that could occur during a class.

Let’s say a player picks a class. While in the class at random a short dialogue option appears where a student asks to cheat off of your work. You could report the student for cheating, hand over your work, tell the student you’ll help tutor them, or say no. These options would either improve or decrease the player’s social status, or even get the teacher’s trust. Small social events like this would be interesting and make the environment feel more like a school with classes and assignments going on instead of a sandbox. 

My second idea is to give the player a chance to learn some information at random. Kind of like helpful hints, maybe during the class two girls are talking about how they were going to hang out with Rival X, but she was going to be at the pool tomorrow. Or the player hears the teacher talking to a repairman about how the vents have such cheap screws and should be replaced next year. Or the player learns that certain types of cleaning fluids used by the chemistry room, and the school’s cleaning supplies are flammable, and should be handled with care. Small pieces of information that the player could use to their advantage, making the classes more useful.

My final idea is having a random event for the player to ingratiate themselves to the teachers. Maybe the teacher asks for a volunteer and the player does a simple minigame. Or the teacher asks the class a question and the player has to choose the correct answer (or choose not to answer at all). If the player succeeds these minigames, the teacher likes and trusts them a bit more. Keep this up, and the you’ll become a “teacher’s pet” where the faculty isn’t as suspicious or defensive of you as you’ve proved yourself a good student. 

These events would make the class time not feel like a waste or glossed over. They would be useful in multiple ways to gain information or social status or new skills. They would also give the player options for what kind of character they want to be. If they want to be a quiet wallflower they can simply observe. Or they could be a delinquent who gets questions wrong and cheats off other students. Or they can be a studious over achiever who’s respected by the teachers. 

These changes and additions I think would improve the setting to make it feel more like a school. Considering how a majority of the game takes place here and that a large part of the mechanics are dependent on understanding the school, these simple changes I feel would help flesh it out from a gimmicky, unrealistic location to a complete academy.  

Beyond the school I think there should be a small town or street, but that will be a separate post. 

Tldr; make the academy more complex and interesting by adding a few random events and aesthetic changes. 

[fashionitforward]

Check out this listing I just added to my Poshmark closet: New Crayola Teachers 5 Lot with Storage Basket: Certificates Decor Kits (Quebec).