#everything I say they take it as a suggestion anyway

[cybersunnie]

the look of love | collection

RAFE CAMERON accidentally runs into Miss Sugar.

includes ib request / fem!teacher!reader / uncle!rafe / reader goes by "miss sugar" / fluff / dialogue heavy / mildly suggestive / wc 1.9k

Rafe rarely had good days. They were tolerable. Average, but never good. 

Today wasn’t any different. 

The moment he woke up, he had received the worst news he could receive: an investor pulled out of his latest project. Why? Because it was taking too long. Rafe couldn’t exactly argue with him there. Delays had occurred and put them behind schedule. But still, that son of a bitch was a millionaire. He had money to spare.

Whatever. He didn’t need him. That was what he thought until he saw the looks of his remaining investors’ faces when he reassured them to stay confident in his project. It was safe to say they weren’t very convinced. 

Everything was going just as planned. Clearly. 

And now, he loitered in the Kildare Retreat’s parking lot, staring at the beige three-story building before him. It was an apartment complex located just outside The Cut. One of his first projects. The one when people finally started to believe he had what it took to run his dad’s business. He earned their respect. Every smartass that had something to say before became mute in his presence. 

He supposed that was why he always found himself at Kildare Retreat. If he had done it then, he could have done it now, and he desperately needed that reminder.

But it was hard to reflect on anything when someone had music blasting on the third floor. Rafe didn’t know what was playing. An old song, he knew that much. It must be a new tenant. Some inconsiderate, low-life—

The music got louder as a door swung open, and a woman emerged, holding a paint can in each hand. 

Who was this bitch?

Rafe raised a hand to shield his eyes from the sun. Once he squinted, the woman’s face cleared. Holy shit. He stepped away from his car and dropped his hand. You were the woman, his niece and nephew’s art teacher, Miss Sugar. The last time he saw you was when he picked up the kids, and since then, you have been a fleeting but persistent presence in his mind. 

Whatever insult he had ready to go vanished. 

You could play your music as loud as you wanted to. That was a problem for your neighbors to deal with, anyway. 

You descended the stairs and stopped in front of what he assumed was your car—a sedan he was sure had seen better days. It looked like it was on its last leg. When you popped your trunk open, you glanced in his direction and finally saw him.

Your eyes widened. He waved.

“Hey!” you greeted, your voice higher than usual. You cleared your throat and lugged the paint cans into your car. “You’re Jackson and Josie’s uncle, right? Rafe Cameron?”

Before he could stop himself, he smiled. You remembered.

“That’s me.” Rafe approached you, stopping just a foot away. “Miss Sugar?” 

You grinned, the corners of your eyes wrinkling. “So formal,” you teased. That alone had his cheeks feeling warm. “I’m outside work. Please, just call me Sugar.”

He wondered if that was your real name. It could be a nickname. Either way, it suited you—sweet and addictive. 

“If you insist, Sugar.” 

Your eyes narrowed, and you asked, “So, what are you doing here?” You crossed your arms over your chest. “Are you stalking me?”

His blood ran cold. “What? No—”

You held up a hand to stop his ramblings, laughing, “Calm down, I’m joking.”

He scoffed. You were going to give him a heart attack one day. 

Rafe scratched his brow and then eyed the green and blue paint cans. “You gonna do some painting?” he assumed, nodding toward them.

“Yeah. A mural for the school,” you clarified, turning around to shut your trunk, steel hitting steel. “Also, you never answered my question.”

He licked the inside of his cheek. “Right, I’m just visiting,” he answered plainly. When nothing else was said, you gestured for him to elaborate further. You were nosy like Josie. “I designed Kildare Retreats.”

Your brows raised, and your lips parted in surprise. But that all muddled into a look of confusion the longer you stared at him. He watched the frown on your face deepen until your eyes flickered with recognition, a lightbulb appearing over your head.

“Cameron Development,” you said, snapping your fingers. “It’s literally on the entrance sign—I don’t know how I didn’t put that together.”

Amused, he chuckled. “Don’t worry about it.”

“Well, it’s really nice,” you praised, craning your neck to stare at the apartment building behind you. Rafe wondered if you genuinely liked it or were just being polite. He wouldn’t be surprised if it were the latter. “You guys did a great job.”

“Thank you,” he replied, stuffing his hands into his pockets. 

And for a moment, there was silence. 

The song that blasted from your apartment carried through the parking lot. You were beautiful in the sunlight, your hair fluttering in the wind. Nothing captured his attention like you did. Rafe knew he was staring, but you were staring at him, too. Your gaze roamed his face like a gentle caress, and he swore you could see right through him.

“Do you have time?”

Your voice brought him back to reality. “What?”

“I just, uh, I’d like some help transferring the rest of my things into my car,” you explained, your hands smoothing down your jeans. “If you’re up for it, of course.”

Rafe glanced at his watch. He still had time. “Yeah, yeah. Sure.”

“Great!” you beamed as you motioned him to follow you. “It’ll be quick, I promise.”

After many flights of stairs later, you led him to your apartment. Through the booming music, Rafe heard bed creaks followed by an over-the-top pornographic moan from next door. His lips curled in distaste. No wonder your speaker was on full blast. 

Once you opened your door, sunlight bleeding into the space, he was greeted with a mess. It's not a gross, rotting mess. Just disorganized. Your brain probably looked like this, too. The coffee table in the living room was cluttered with stacks of paper with yellow sticky notes that said ‘STUDENT WORK :)’ slapped on top. Boxes hugged the walls, newspapers were beneath a freshly painted canvas, and paintbrushes were stuffed in a cup near the kitchen sink. 

It was a sight, for sure.

“Sorry ‘bout the mess,” you said over the music, stepping aside to let him in. “I’ve been doing more painting than cleaning.” 

Rafe tried to appear indifferent, but Sarah always told him he was never good at hiding his feelings. He shrugged, “Nah, you’re good.”

Your chin dipped hollowly to your chest, and you kicked a small box out of your way. You must have caught his bluff. Oh, well. At least, he tried. 

He looked around your apartment, his gaze lingering on the framed pictures of what he assumed to be your parents. A heavy feeling weighed on his chest. He forgot what it was like to have parents. But the sound of your grunts caught his attention, and he saw you hunched over and dragging a storage bin toward him.

“Can you carry this, please?” With a huff, you dropped the bin next to his feet. “Just be careful. It’s pretty heavy, so—”

Rafe picked it up with ease. You clamped your mouth shut.

“Never mind,” you said, your eyes falling to his arms, chest rising as you sucked in a breath. “You’re, uh, very strong.”

His lips twitched at your unabashed stare. Though, your gaze was more innocent than anything. A look of admiration as opposed to lust. You eventually turned on your heel and walked into a closet.

“You got any new projects you’re working on?”

Rafe adjusted his hold on the bin. “Yeah,” he answered, “a couple of studios in Figure Eight.”

As he approached the closet, you suddenly poked your head out the doorway and asked, “Figure Eight’s Northside, right?” When he nodded, you disappeared behind the wall again. “I’m still trying to get used to your guys’ lingo.”

Your words replayed in his head. So, you hadn’t lived in Kildare for that long. That explained why you were so friendly with him. You didn’t know his history.

You came out with a rolled-up tarp in your arms, your lips pursed in thought. “What kind of studios?” 

“It’ll be up to the tenant what they wanna do with the space.” Rafe looked you up and down, his head tilting. “Why?”

The smile on your face faded into something less genuine. “I’ve always wanted an art studio,” you said, the music almost drowning out your voice, “but I don’t have the money for it.”

“We can work something out,” he offered, his mouth working faster than his brain. 

You stared at him, doe-eyed. “Really?”

Rafe chuckled, “Of course.”

He saw your gentle eyes harden, analyzing him, searching for a speck of insincerity. You looked at him like everyone else had his whole life—like he was just some fuck up you couldn’t trust. It made him nervous, worried that you were starting to see that, too. But soon enough, you returned to your sweet and unknowing self, smiling. 

“Alright, well, c’mon,” you ushered, striding past him to disconnect your phone from the speaker. 

The music cut off abruptly, and your neighbors were louder than ever. You didn’t seem fazed by it, though. He wondered if this was a daily occurrence for you. 

You stepped outside. “I don’t wanna waste more of your time.”

Once he followed you out, Rafe waited while you locked up your place. His eyes trailed to your neighbor’s door, their moans having turned into screams of ecstasy. Intense and raw and unnecessarily loud. He might as well be in the room with them. 

“I should've put better soundproofing for these apartments,” he mused, his brows pinching together.

When you looked at him, you frowned and tilted your head, “What makes you say that?”

He huffed, a smile creeping on his face at your feigned ignorance. You bumped your shoulder into him as you walked past him, and the brief interaction made him forget about the ache beginning to settle in his arms. 

It didn’t take long for you both to descend the stairs and return to your car. You opened the rear door and plopped the tarp onto the floorboard. He did as he was told and set the storage bin on the backseat, and you buckled it into place.

You clasped your hands, grinning, “Thank you so much for your help.”

“No problem.” 

Rafe could hear the birds, the rustling leaves, the vehicles that drove by, and how the asphalt crunched beneath your shoes when you stepped toward your car to close the door. His mind was quiet around you.

“Oh, about that art studio—” He took out his wallet, retrieved his business card, and handed it to you, “—I’m just a call away.”

You glanced at the card, reading the information before taking it. “Okay, CEO, I see you,” you mumbled teasingly. “Thanks again.”

He smirked, stashing his wallet away in his pocket. “Don’t be a stranger, Sugar,” he said, echoing the words you had exchanged when you first crossed paths. 

Your smile widened, the apples of your cheeks lifting. “I won’t,” you promised, genuine sincerity dancing in your eyes as they dropped to the card for a split second. “Have a nice day, Rafe."

He nodded. “You too.”

And as he walked back to his car, he couldn’t help but get one last look at you. When he glanced over his shoulder, he saw that you were already in the driver’s seat, and your gaze met his through the rearview mirror. He immediately looked forward, rubbing the back of his neck.

Rafe had a terrifying realization: he would do anything to keep you around longer.

sunnie speaks! IT'S FINALLY HERE!!! i'm sorry it took so long; i've been busy w school </3 but i love my babies sm so i hoped you guys enjoyed reading!!! let's chat about rafe cameron / teacher!reader

if you like my work, consider following my library blog (@sunniefics) to be notified of all my future fics!

TAGLIST:  @rluvsr @sublimepenguinpeach-blog @larvalerius @rafesheaven

[hhughes]

https://www.tumblr.com/bedsyandco/765140858987331584/more-atreader-content-pretty-please

Yes yes yes to Jack getting injured and having to see her

I feel like he would try to play it off as not that bad when it is really bad

note: forgot how much I adored writing these two. thank you for sending in for them nonnie <33

jack winces as he adjusts his position on the bench for the sixth time since he sat down. as if he could simply shuffle away the sharp pain shooting up his shoulder.

“jack” he hears his coach’s voice behind him and he glances that way just in time to see keefe gesturing behind him. telling jack to go down the tunnel and let one of the trainers check him out.

“i’m good coach. just winded. but i’ll be good in a few minutes” jack argues, trying to keep himself from wincing as he stretches his shoulder in a weird way to keep eye contact with the older man.

keefe doesn’t buy it. not for a second. “go down the tunnel, hughes. it’s an order not a suggestion”

jack sighs, rubbing his face, but he knows better than to keep arguing. he hobbles down the bench, unclips his helmet, and makes his way down the tunnel. his shoulder is killing him, but the last thing he wants is to get pulled from the game.

the second he gets close to the end of the tunnel, he sees you waiting, arms crossed, a knowing expression already on your face.

“you were winded, huh?” you ask, tilting your head.

jack groans. “don’t start.” he doesn’t bother asking how you knew he said that, since you weren’t on the bench when he uttered the lie. he knows by now that you have eyes and ears everywhere.

“oh, I will start.” you motion for him to sit and he starts taking off his jersey “because I saw that hit. and I saw you favoring your left side for the last five shifts.”

jack mutters something under his breath but doesn’t fight you when you move closer, fingers already prodding at his shoulder. the second you press against the joint, he tenses, sucking in a sharp breath.

you nod, unimpressed. “yeah, totally just winded.”

jack gives you a weak smile. “mind reader, huh?”

you roll your eyes but soften a little, carefully rotating his arm to test his mobility. his jaw clenches when you lift it above shoulder height.

“jack,” you say, gentler this time. “you have to be honest with me. you can’t just push through everything.”

he exhales through his nose, tilting his head up to look at the ceiling. after a moment, he mutters, “it’s not that bad. just sore.”

you level him with a look. “sore or shooting pain?”

jack hesitates. too long.

“jack.”

he sighs, finally meeting your eyes. “…both.”

you bite the inside of your cheek, trying not to let your frustration show. not at him—well, okay, maybe a little at him—but mostly at the situation. you know he just wants to play.

but you also know if he keeps pushing, he’ll only make it worse.

“you’re sitting for the rest of the game,” you tell him firmly, already reaching for the ice pack.

jack groans, dragging a hand down his face. “come on—”

“non-negotiable,” you cut in, pressing the ice to his shoulder. “you need to rest. i’ll re-evaluate after the game, but I swear, jack, if you argue with me one more time—”

jack huffs, shaking his head, but there’s a tiny smirk on his lips. “you threatening me, doc?”

you glare at him. “not a doctor.”

he grins, but after a moment, his expression softens. he reaches up—his good arm this time—and taps your wrist lightly.

“c’mon i’m fine. i can finish the game. there’s only like six minutes left anyway” he pleads

you exhale slowly, pressing your lips together. “yeah, and I’m sure your team is more than capable of playing without you for six minutes.”

jack scoffs, shaking his head. “look, I can’t just—”

“I don’t remember when you decided my professional opinion was optional, hughes,” you cut in, tone sharp. “I wasn’t asking.”

jack gives you a look, jaw clenching like he wants to keep arguing. you can practically see the stubborn thoughts running through his head—how six minutes isn’t a big deal, how he’s played through worse, how he thinks he knows his body better than you do.

you lean forward slightly, lowering your voice. “if you want, I can take this to your coaches and have them be the ones to pull you. would that make you feel better?”

his nostrils flare. “you wouldn’t.”

you hold his gaze, completely unphased. “try me.”

jack groans dramatically, throwing his head back. “God, you’re impossible.”

“you’re impossible,” you counter, pressing the ice pack more firmly against his shoulder. he hisses, shooting you a glare, but you don’t budge.

a moment passes before he exhales, finally relenting. “fine.”

you nod, satisfied. “good. that’s all you had to say in the first place.”

jack mutters something under his breath that you definitely don’t catch, but he doesn’t move to get up again. you take that as a victory.

still, as you start writing up his injury report, he nudges your knee with his own. “y’know,” he mumbles, his voice a little quieter, “you could just say you care about me.”

you pause, glancing at him. his eyes are teasing, but there’s something softer underneath.

you shake your head, suppressing a smile. “don’t push it, hughes. and put your shirt back on,” you order

“why is it distracting you” he smirks and lets out a laugh as you throw his jersey over his head before making your way out the little room

[slight-gaming-addict]

Hello!! May i request for the headcannons twisted wonderland characters?

Where reader is very affecionate person and kinda clumsy whenever they are dating with them (nrc characters), YET they are very smart that every class lesson, they will write the note until it's full, since reader when they are at their world back then was always get the 2nd or 1st rank academic especially that relate to sciences.

(The characters in twisted wonderland is up to you, can be only housewarden, or vice housewarden or the first years)

Sorry if my grammar is bad, love your writting and hope you have a great day! ^^

sweetest devotion

masterlist | ko-fi

characters with a smart & affectionate reader

characters: leona kingscholar, azul ashengrotto, vil schoenheit

warnings: fluff, i accidentally made vil's slightly suggestive, not proofread

𝑳𝒆𝒐𝒏𝒂 𝑲𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔𝒄𝒉𝒐𝒍𝒂𝒓

he isn't really aware of how smart you are, mostly because he never shows up to class to begin with

gets annoyed when you initiate a cuddle session, only to pull back a couple hours later when you insist on having to go to class

he'll grip onto you so tight that you struggle to push out of his grasp, practically falling off the bed in your attempts to free yourself

you just smile at him when he looks at you with that grumpy look on his face, but will always say no when you ask him if he's going to class that day

you come to terms with him never wanting to go to class early on, just settling on giving him the notes after it's done

it doesn't really click in his brain whenever you give him the notes that you actually enjoy the class and do well in it, just grumbly skims through whatever stuff he already knows and doesn't care about

it's when ruggie threatens him for the nth time that week about going to at least one class that he gets annoyed at him and eventually just agrees

but that doesn't mean he's going to be diligent about getting to said class

he gets to the class twenty minutes in, ignoring the rest of the students and just slumping in vacant chair next to you

you smile when you see him in class for once, even if he is just slouching in the chair staring off into space

you instinctively grab his hand under the desk as the lesson continues

the warmth of your hand is the only thing really keeping him there

is genuinely surprised when he hears how much you actually know about the information in the class

watches in awe as you jot down almost everything the professor is saying without a pause

he's learning something new about you every day

𝑨𝒛𝒖𝒍 𝑨𝒔𝒉𝒆𝒏𝒈𝒓𝒐𝒕𝒕𝒐

gets so flustered every time you compliment him or hold his hand

tries to play it off but he's really bad at it

he's immediately captivated by you when he finds out how smart you are in the classroom

you'll find him just staring at you when you lift your head up from your paper

he'll turn away from you in embarrassment when he's caught

but he'll just go back to admiring you a couple minutes later

practically swoons if you offer to help him with any business related things

he'll be so excited to tell you everything about it, and let you help him out with things

it's all slightly new to you, so you'll feel bad if you make any mistakes

azul ensures you that mistakes are a given in the line of work and that it's a good learning opportunity

he prefers to work with you than the unpredictability he gets with floyd anyway

it helps when he's constantly getting complimented by you from the work that he does

he's ready to just permanently keep you apart of the team

𝑽𝒊𝒍 𝑺𝒄𝒉𝒐𝒆𝒏𝒉𝒆𝒊𝒕

he isn't one for much pda, he has a reputation to uphold after all

knows how affectionate you are and won't outright reject you, but the most he'll do in public is hold your hand

however, the first time he found out about how well you were in potions, he was taken off guard

he knew you were smart, but didn't know how much you actually knew

had to do a double take when he heard you answer the question in class effortlessly, hardly even glancing at your notes

had to stop himself from pulling you to him and putting his mouth on yours right then and there

instead, he scoots his chair closer to yours and grabs your hand under the desk

you're taken off guard by the motion, but you don't pull away

he stays close to you for the rest of the class, practically dragging you through the hallway after it ended

finally gets you alone and does what he's wanted to since the start of class

[nkogneatho]

high school was boring as it was when you were the class nerd. you never got bullied but a part of you wish you did so you had friends to defend you. yeah. friends. you were also all alone. i mean who wants to be friends with a girl who is the class topper. basically everyone else's competition. so when everyone mass bunked the class for a party, it was just you sitting by the window. your professor suggested you leave to since he cannot just teach an entire syllabus to one student, but you insisted to stay.

you popped your earphones, playing mazzy star's fade into you as you revised your notes. your eyes wandered to look at sky through the window. the trees swaying. it was early spring so the air was still a bit chilly. but the sun shone on everything, tall trees casting shadows on the ground. just then, you spotted this boy outside. dark haired, tall and muscly. you couldn't make out his expression. or the color of his eyes. suddenly, he looked up making eye contact with you. you quickly looked away, heat rushing to your cheeks, heart beating faster.

shit. he must think i am a weirdo for staring at him.

but you couldn't resist. curiosity is one son of a bitch. so you look back and you found his eyes still on you. it was awkward. what the hell was this situation anyway. so to ease it, you gave him a small warm smile. he didn't reciprocate it.

great. i am definitely a weirdo now.

but then after a few seconds, his lips stretched into a thin line before he walked away. you have no idea what happened but for the first time your heart felt warm.

when you got home, you found yourself replaying those few seconds like a tiktok edit.

he was cute. wait what? fuck. i should get back to studying.

the next day, the professor was babbling on about a chapter that you already studied in advance. so you once again found yourself looking outside the window with a hope of spotting the same guy. but he wasn't there. maybe that's the most of interaction with him you'll get in life.

when the bell rang for break, you decided to have your lunch somewhere quieter. like on the school terrace. you plopped yourself on the ground, back pressed against the wall. before you could take the first bite off your taiyaki, you heard a familiar faint melody. your legs were drawn to it, following the soft hum, to meet the same guy you saw yesterday. a part of your heart blossomed. he looked peaceful under the shadow of the wall, his phone playing the same song you were listening to yesterday. fade into you. you still couldn't see his eyes. but he did have a scar on the corner of his lips. you don't know what ad gotten into you but you got closer to his face to inspect it further. and in a second, you felt a strong grip on your arm, pulling you closer and making you lose balance as you fell on him.

"it's rude to stare a stranger, you know?" his voice wasn't too rugged but wasn't sweet either.

"i—i wasn't staring. just...curious."

"yeah? haven't you heard of that saying? curiosity killed the cat." he purred. you took a deep breath. and that's when you noticed he wasn't wearing the school uniform.

"where's your uniform?"

"there we go. curious again?" he waited for an answer but he knew he wasn't getting that until he gives you one. "i don't study here. jus'like hanging out cuz it's quite." the sentence surely held a lot of context but you noticed he didn't seem like he wanted to go there. "how long are you planning on lyin' on top of me?" oh shit right. the school bell rang once again. break's over.

"sorry. i didn't—anyways i should go." you apologized as you got up, fixing your skirt.

"in case you get curious again, the name's toji." he smiled, hands in his pocket as he watched you walk towards the door. you turn around.

green. his eyes are emerald green.

"see you around, toji."

[frudoo]

Ahh finished reaidng and the end of the baker Simon update I feel like, idk if reader works in like some marketing agency maybe in an office but like she suggests taking them to the people she works with and they all love Simon after that because who doesn’t love being fed baked goods?? And they encourage her to date him (def not so they get more treats in the future 🤭)

Or even they take them to somewhere like a first station to give to fire fighters or a day care or even a shelter. Just to let people enjoy some treats.

Either way I feel like there’s some sweet act of charity going to happen eee

Right you are, anon ;)

Warnings: Simon is a lil pent up (suggestive thoughts, none in detail) and only briefly thinks about murder LMAO.

As you drive, all Simon can think about is how he should have known. Of course such a sweet, thoughtful thing like you would have a weekly volunteering schedule at the local nursing home. He shouldn’t be surprised that you know each of the staff by name, or what specific allergies and intolerances the residents have, but still his heart pounds in his chest, honeyed eyes transfixed on the angel leading him past the lobby. He feels out of place with his broad shoulders slumped, arms full with the trays of his own baked goods. 

     As you turn the corner, you slow your pace to walk level with Simon, a cheeky grin pulling at your lips. 

     “Technically, none of them are supposed to have desserts with added sugar because of health regulations or whatever, but I sweet-talked Ryan—the director—and got us a pass. He’s always had a thing for me, I think. And anyway, I believe that if you make it past 80 years old, you deserve to eat whatever the hell you want.”

     “Agreed,” Simon huffs quietly, trying to shake the urge to go back and rip Ryan’s head off. 

     His military days are over, he reminds himself, no more violent impulses should be acted on. Besides, there’s no reason to feel this way about a stupid little crush some guy has on you. You’re not his, although he’d rather not consider that you might have a thing for Ryan, as well. 

     “We’ll stop here, first,” you nudge his arm lightly, smiling up at him sweetly. “They’re… um, well, the group without dementia. They’ll be a little kinder.” 

     Bloody fucking hell. He’s blushing like a damn schoolboy, completely oblivious to everything you said after your arm brushed against his. All he knows is that he wants to keep you close, feel your hands on his stomach again, brush his fingers up and down your arms until you beg him to take that pretty little blouse of yours off- fuck. Snap out of it, Riley, you’re in a nursing home, for fuck’s sake. It isn’t until you grab a cupcake off of one of his trays that he realizes he’s followed you into a different room.

     He watches intently as you pull up a chair across from one elderly lady, gently patting her hand in greeting. She grins at you—a true, beaming smile, and it makes Simon smile. Maybe he’s not so far off; maybe you are a little slice of heaven on Earth. Maybe it’s not such a bad thing that other people get to see that. 

     “I didnae kno’ ye ‘ave a husband,” the woman says with furrowed brows, frosting smeared across her mouth.

     You giggle and help her wipe it away with a napkin before gently correcting her.

     “He’s not my husband, Ms. Orla. Simon’s a good friend,” you explain, turning back to look at him with a fond glance. 

     You miss the way his smile falters at your words. He misses the glumness in your tone at the implication. Ms. Orla is not so easily fooled.

     “Mhm. Said the same abou’ me late husband when we first met. He pu’ a ring on me finger within t’ree months,” she purses her lips and tilts her head with a bit of attitude before taking another bite of her cupcake. “And if he bakes like tha’, ah can only imagine wha’ he’s like in the-”

     “Okay!” You interrupt with wide eyes and a flustered smile, scrambling to stand from your seat. 

     But you trip over the chair leg and stumble backwards, right into Simon. He catches you with no hesitation, not even dropping so much as one macaron on the floor. You stare up at him, shocked and clinging onto his biceps for dear life. You’ve always hated those God-awful romance movies, the cheesy Hallmark kind of feel-good films that make you want to claw your eyes out—but the feeling of his arm around your waist makes your heart clench in your chest, and although the thought makes disgust bubble in your gut, in this moment, it’s just you and the big, handsome brute who just stopped you from busting your ass on the carpeted floor. 

     That is, until a chuckle erupts from Ms. Orla’s throat, and Simon lifts you back onto your feet, clearing the dreamlike haze that surrounded the both of you seconds before.

     “Be sure tae bring me a slice o’yer weddin’ cake in a few months, aye?”

     You and Simon leave the building with fewer trays than you arrived with, but at least one of his hands is still full with the weight of yours.

     He’ll take this small win, for now.

[ask-principal-grace]

"Hello."

"I do believe my dear wife Miss Emily told me about this app, and it looks... Interesting, to say the least."

"Well then... My name is Miss Grace. It's a pleasure to meet you."

★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★

★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★

[Mod here. Just thought I'd change one of my old blogs into a Miss Grace roleplay account for fun :>]

[All the old posts you see on here have nothing to do with fpe- please don't reblog them or interact with them-]

Anyways...

Headcanons for Miss Grace ★

★ Very strict and serious, though she'll soften up around those she's close to.

★ She's a ✨lesbian✨

★ Mother of Edward and Riley.

★ She's married to Miss Emily.

★ Coffee addict-

★ Extremely protective over her loved ones.

★ Doesn't like having her time wasted.

★ She can be a bit cold-hearted at times, but she refuses to admit that. The only people she isn't cold-hearted towards is her wife and children.

★ Ticklish, her hips are her worst spot-

★ Takes her job very seriously.

★ Does everything in her power to keep ∆lice in her room.

Rules ★

★ No nsfw asks, that includes suggestive asks. I'm aware that Miss Grace is an adult, but nsfw still isn't allowed here.

★ Harassing me for my headcanons = blocked.

★ Don't harass me or the people I roleplay with.

★ Donation asks will be deleted.

★ Tk asks and Magic anons are allowed, just don't be weird.

"Miss Grace will talk like this"

[Mod will talk like this]

Dearest students..

@askclairefpe @claire-the-silly @engels-ask-blog @ask-lesbian-bubble @lana-and-her-sockpuppets @abbie-appleboy

@oliversoapeater-official @zip-the-chaos-child @3dward-th3-s1lly @ask-edward-fpe

@sk3ll-em0-k1tty @ruby-the-pansexual-robot @riley-crazy-kid @rabies-infested-riley

@ask-silly-rabbit @ask-lizzy-fpe

Fellow colleagues

@math-teacher-who-loves-oreos @miss-bloomies-science-class @wendigo-language-teacher @lesbian-history-teacher @best-art-teacher-miss-sasha @pansexual-music-teacher @kitkatlovingalgebrateacher @mrbasils-cookies @best-social-studies-teacher

...Her...

@alice-monstrous-princess

Others

@danger-abbie @danger-engel @danger-ruby @danger-zipster @danger-oliverrr @danger-bloomie

@ask-miller @askskary @official-crazie @viviansmagicshop @agethath3silly @askofficialfern @chip-the-silly-fish @sillylilchipster

@science-au-oliver006

[Sorry if you aren't mentioned-]

[storiesbyjes2g]

3.219 Less strikes again

At some point, I tore myself away from my parents and left the cemetery feeling renewed and happy. On my way back home, I made a detour to the florist. I couldn't leave their graves looking empty and neglected like we didn't care. Quite the contrary. I even bought nice headstones and put portraits on their plots. Too bad I didn't have a big enough picture for grandpa Winston. I'd really love to meet him one day, but I think he may have crossed over already. At least I have tiny pictures at home to look at and see where some of my features come from.

Alessia called, saying she wanted to talk. That meant she needed to get out of the house, so I sent Sophia a text saying I would be back later that night. At first, I thought we'd grab dinner, but Less and I hadn't gone out together in ages. We needed to make it count, so I suggested we go to a bar for old time's sake. We met at The Solar Flare in Oasis Springs, and she began telling me about this man she'd been talking to.

His name is Brent Peters, and he rents a trailer in Oasis Springs. He likes horses, is obsessed with vampires, loves a good argument, and hates smart asses. He also hates comedy, idealists, troublemakers, knitting, and rock climbing. So far, he sounded like a very interesting character, and I wanted to know more. She said in his younger days he had a bit of trouble of his own, often getting caught stealing. He got help, but every day is a struggle to resist that urge. They bonded over their love for athleticism. She thought it was a silly to appreciate, but she loved he didn't mind her being a homebody. Whatever she wanted to do, he was into it, and she loved that. I couldn't imagine Alessia ever changing herself to please someone, but I knew exactly how it felt to be loved and accepted by someone despite your flaws and shortcomings, and I was glad she had that. She said he's loyal to her, and they are taking things slow. As much as I loved to hear that, I still had concerns.

"He sounds wonderful for you, but... Like, how do you know he's not after your money?"

"Luca... I know you're concerned because of what happened last time, but this isn't that. Me and Jase bonded over stupid, meaningless stuff. Brent and I talk about real things. And I'm older and wiser now. But you, of all people, should understand how putting yourself out there involves risks. You moved in with Sophia after one date, and you didn't even want to be in a relationship. But you took the risk. The point here is I'm ready to take risks again. I don't know if Brent is after my money, or if he will kill me in my sleep, or if he'll run off with another woman. I'm still getting to know him, but I don't think he will. But I'll never know unless I try."

I say this every time I'm around her, but she has grown so much, and I love to see it. I still had concerns, but there was nothing left to say.

"Also, I'm moving out tomorrow."

"What?? Why?"

"I appreciate everything you've done for me. And I love how fiercely you protect me. But I need to handle things on my own now. All my life, I've had a safety net. Even when I moved out, I was living with that family. Someone has always taken care of me, and I feel like I owe it to myself, and my children, to be truly independent. I can't teach them what I've never done, so I need to go. I don't want you to make a big deal and throw a party or something. Just let us go quietly, please."

This is just like Mt. Komorebi all over again. She arrives at conclusions super fast and is compelled to action them even faster.

"But... What about the kids? Desi loves playing with them. And I love hanging out with them, too."

"That can still happen! It'll just require more effort now."

"Where are you going, anyway?"

"San Myshuno, for now."

That was the last place I pictured her living. Seems like the hustle and bustle would send her paranoia up the roof. But, renting an apartment is a good situation for her. Even though she wants to be independent, homeownership is a whole 'nother beast, not for the faint of heart.

"I'm gonna miss you, sis. I've really enjoyed getting to know this adult version of you. Can we make sure to do better at keeping in touch?"

"You better, big head."

[georgcfan]

*

[sonknuxadow]

it just hit me that the movie is coming out next month imgonna throw upppppppp

[robotpanties]

uuuuuhhh no reason just wanna see the robot get preggers because nobody is really taking advantage of the narrative consequences of the robots of ULTRAKILL having fleshy bits inside them (in my humble opinion hahahaha...hahaha....hah....). Anywhosen also a sucker for general Bad End especially when it involves a psycho-sexual (breeding) binding to a greater entity but also I wanna see the murder-robot get knocked up. And the galaxy brain bit of this is instead of calming down they just get Worse.

YEAH NO ONE REALLY TAKES ADVANTAGE OF THAT. and well i mostly assumed a very small percentage of people actually want to breed the robots like that which is why.

also i don't think this as a bad end, but a bad path that can lead to some other.. inch resting things (my stupid ass is trying to craft a plot with horror and drama from this path and how it'd change the story slightly despite knowing I will never get around to writing it in fic form except tiny excerpt ideas and art)

also i have so much to say abt the 'it doesn't calm down it just gets worse' bc its So true

[dazais-guardian-angel]

flashback to the time Dazai's english voice actor made an armed detective agency joke about Kunikida's missing hands and accidentally prophesied the s5 finale........ Kaiji is simply too powerful

[gobstoppr]

mami tomoe i miss you....

i ordered a physical copy of The Different Story manga and i have to wait like a week till it comes in... i wanna reread it Nowwww tho

[marsixm]

i kind of understand sometimes why older people have a hard time adapting to new technology and ways of doing things like im only 28 and constantly having to remind myself googling fucking sucks now lmao

[essektheylyss]

So often I consider writing a post on various different ways of using point of view and tense and why you would use any of them and how it might affect what you're trying to say, but honestly there is no way to write that post that would not be only a minute sample of uses and rationales and circumstances, and in the end the meaning would simply boil down to, "Literally everything a writer puts down on a page is a choice that has meaning and effects so you might as well make the choices intentionally before you inadvertently step on your own story."

[wickedhawtwexler]

i am Definitely Not A Doctor but if you have adhd and aren't able to access adequate medication, rhodiola rosea supplements have been saving my ass these last few months

[leetolgoblin]

hoo boy i am not doing a good job at taking care of myself. almost out of clean clothes, dont think ive eaten today, super dehydrated, wildly overstimulated, and i *still* havent written this essay, one of the three that i need to have done this week.