#so now she’s making me email my teacher to ask for personal one on one sessions to help me bc i’m so dumb

[l0rd-0f-c0ws]

I frequently feel completely isolated no matter how much I talk to people. So that's fun

[bestfluteninja]

i am so loved. i am so so loved.

[marshymallo]

only hot girls break down all the time when the slightest inconveniences come their way

[hotdaemondtargaryen]

EWAN MITCHELL PHOTOGRAPHED AND INTERVIEWED FOR THE NEW YORK TIMES MAGAZINE.

ABOUT BEING RECOGNIZED

Like most people, Ewan Mitchell is accustomed to anonymity.

So during a recent trip to Manhattan, he was surprised by what a hotel doorman asked when he arrived: “You haven’t packed your eye patch?”

The actor is still getting used to strangers making the connection in public.

“I wouldn’t think people would recognize me, but they do.”

“I think it’s because of my strong chin.”

“When I’m dressed up as Aemond and catch myself in the mirror, he scares even me a little bit.”

When he’s not in character, Mitchell is soft-spoken and occasionally flashes a boyish grin, though he retains much of Aemond’s seriousness and quiet intensity.

He is also very private: He stays off social media and in the past has shied away from sharing much with the public.

“Once you lose the mystery, you can’t really get it back.”

HE KNOWS THAT AEMOND'S KEY ROLE IN S2 MEANS HE MUST ALSO EMBRACE THE SPOTLIGHT:

“There is a point where you have to go, now’s the time to pull back the curtain.”

Like Aemond, Mitchell is a second son.

He grew up in Derby, an industrial town in the middle of England, and his parents expected him to follow his older brother’s footsteps and work at Rolls-Royce (the aerospace and industrial technology company, not the carmaker).

HIS INSPIRATIONS AND BECOME AN ACTOR

Inspired by films like “Citizen Kane” and “Taxi Driver,” Mitchell knew early on he wanted to become an actor.

When he was 13, his teacher asked each student in his class what they wanted to do when they grew up.

“Then it came to me, and I said, ‘I’m going to be an actor,’ and everyone laughed at me.”

His family could not afford tuition for drama school, so Mitchell attended a two-year vocational school, where he studied design and technology while working part-time at a restaurant and in customer service at a local soccer club.

Midway through the program, at 17, he was accepted into the Nottingham Television Workshop, a drama group that trains young people in acting.

Through the Workshop, Mitchell landed a leading role in a 2015 short film called “Fire,” about a young man who leaks fire from his hands.

Once the short was released, Mitchell downloaded it onto a dozen CDs, took the train to London and stopped by the offices of every agent he could find, handing them each a copy.

The one person who called back continues to represent Mitchell.

“By hook or by crook, I wanted to make sure that I was going to be in this business.”

ABOUT BEING CASTED AS AEMOND TARGARYEN

Aemond’s growing prominence in the show requires Mitchell to embrace the spotlight as well.

“There is a point where you have to go, now’s the time to pull back the curtain.”

But being cast as Aemond in “House of the Dragon” has been his biggest professional turning point by far.

“Since landing him, I feel like I’m able to now steer the course of my career.”

Mitchell had been rewatching the classic Hollywood adventure film “The Vikings” (1958) and musing about how he wanted to play a morally dark character similar to the one played by Kirk Douglas when he received an email inviting him to submit a taped audition for Aemond.

When he eventually auditioned in person, he left a lasting impression on Ryan Condal, the showrunner for “House of the Dragon.”

“When Ewan came into the room, he just had this presence to him that I can best describe as unsettling,” Condal said.

“It was kind of quietly terrifying the way he performed it, and it was totally different than everybody else. And then he thanked us very politely and left the room.”

Condal recalls asking Kate Rhodes James, the casting director, “Is he always like that?”

She replied, “Oh no, he’s just a very intense northern boy.”

To prepare for his role, Mitchell did not watch “Game of Thrones.” Instead, he read portions of “Fire & Blood,” the book by George R.R.

Martin that inspired the show, and studied the performances of Michael Fassbender in “Prometheus” and Peter O’Toole in “Lawrence of Arabia,” each playing a figure who wields power for his own ends.

ABOUT MATT SMITH AND DAEMON TARGARYEN

On his first day on set, Mitchell consulted with Condal and decided that he would avoid interacting with Matt Smith, who plays Aemond’s similarly menacing uncle and rival, Daemon, in order to heighten the tension between the two characters.

Mitchell had grown up admiring Smith’s performance in “Doctor Who.”

But on set Mitchell avoided any eye contact with him, keeping his distance until the climactic scene near the end of the first season when Aemond and Daemon finally face off.

“There’s this addictive kind of quality when you’re in the shoes of a character.”

“When you lose yourself for a moment, it’s almost like a dream.”

ABOUT HIS HOME AND HIS DOGS

When he isn’t acting, Mitchell still lives at his family home in Derby and spends time with his dogs, three whippets named Eva, Bella and Bonnie.

“Now that I’m on it.”

“I’ve just got to stay on the dragon.”

[talaok]

This is a Spencer Reid request. Can you make something out of the scene where Spencer was telling Derek about his story about being tied to a pole by the football team in high school, and the only one there for him is reader? Like they grew up geniuses together or something

Y’all have so many great ideas, I'm jealous.

Geniuses

"Garcia restored those emails," Derek said, entering the room.

"yeah, I'm sorting through them right now" Spencer was sat in front of the computer, quickly scanning through them,

He hadn't found anything yet, and the tension was quickly rising in his chest.

Derek sat on the bed behind him, the mattress creaking underneath his weight

"Reid" he called for him, making him turn "you know, you're not the only one who identifies with him," he said, "you said I was a high school jock," he shrugged " I was, but not at first. my freshman year I was 5' 3" he chuckled " I weighed a buck 20 soaking wet, so trust me when I tell you I got my ass kicked every day," he explained " so the following summer I hit the weights, and I got lucky, I grew six inches, but it was never about vanity Reid, it was about survival"

spencer cleared his throat, maybe he had judged him too quickly.

"I was in the library and, uh-" Spencer started recalling " harper Hillman comes up to me and she tells me that Alexa Lisbon wants to meet me behind the fieldhouse," he told "Alexa Lisbon's like, easily the prettiest girl in school"

"so what happened, Alexa wasn't there?"

Spencer's eyes saddened.

For how much he had tried to forget all of this, all the wrongs and painful things people had done to him, it was impossible.

he still felt like that kid at times, that scared defenseless kid who couldn't do anything but accept what was done to him,

He often thought that maybe that's all he was ever going to be, a tall child, his height diffrent, but him the same.

"no she was there," his lips thinned into a bitter smile " so was the entire football team. They stripped me naked and tied me to a goal post" he had to stop a moment "so many kids were there, you know, just watching"

He could still see them,

he could still hear their manic laughs,

and he could still remember that feeling, that feeling of being completely impotent, pathetic, of being nothing.

"Nobody tried to stop them?"

A spark ignited in his eyes, y/n's face blessing his mind.

"There was one person"

"Who?"

"y/n," he smiled "Y/n Y/ln" his smile only got wider as he remembered you on that day, your sweet voice cracking as you yelled at them, begging them to stop, trying to let them understand what they were doing, that it was a human being they were humiliating "she tried" his smile got sad "She always did"

"but nobody listened"

Derek shook his head, a deep sigh fleeing his mouth

"We were the youngest people there you know?" he explained "she had skipped three years, like me" he chuckled "We made a pact the moment we met, we told each other that no matter what, we weren't gonna give up, we weren't gonna let them win" he laughed softly "she always used to say- no matter what happens, you keep your head high, only that way you'll see the finish line-"

Derek smiled too now

"she's the only reason I survived" he confessed "she's the reason I'm here"

"she seems great"

"she is"

"Where is she now?" he asked "we could use another genius on the team"

Spencer laughed "She's a teacher," he said "she's helping people like us"

"she's changing things from within"

"Well I'm glad she was there Reid" Derek patted his shoulder

"So am I"

he beamed

So am I.

[apomaro-mellow]

Hot for Teacher(s) 2

Part 1 / AO3 Link

@babydollbaron I need you to know your tags basically changed the trajectory of this fic

In the mornings, Steve dropped Shawn off at the before care offered by the school and then went to work. Afterwards, Shawn took the school bus home and went over to a neighbor's house, Miss Robin, until his dad got home from work.

Because of this, Steve knew he would hardly have a reason to see Eddie outside school functions and conferences. Which was fine. It was totally fine. He absolutely was not spending nights thinking about those curls under his fingers. Whenever Shawn had a story from school to tell, he hung on every word. And it was only because these were the formative years of Shawn's life.

"Oh yeah, Mr. Munson asked about our practice and I got to tell him all about it", Shawn said.

Steve paused in his current task, which was the dishes while Shawn did his homework at the kitchen table. He knew exactly what his son was talking about.

"Oh? How'd that come up?"

"I told him about it before but I didn't get to tell him about it before Yasmin started crying. He asked me and I told him."

Steve currently taught middle school, but he'd had a little experience with the younger ones. When it got close to Shawn starting school, he did his best to make sure he was prepared. And to make things a little easier on whoever was teaching him. Steve tried to be subtle with his next words.

"Tell me more about Mr. Munson."

And then the floodgates opened. Mostly because it seemed Mr. Munson was very open about his personal life. Apparently, anytime the students had a question, he answered it. Just in this five minutes between drying the dishes and plating up dinner, Steve learned that Mr. Munson played guitar, loved the color red, played a game about dragons, and was single.

"Wait, how do you know he's not married?", Steve asked.

"Because Briana asked him and he said he's not married", Shawn answered easily.

---------------------

Steve tried not to think too hard about it. Mr. Munson being single didn't change anything. Not a single thing. But a really hot alpha who was unattached and also happened to be really good with kids who his kid loved was kind of the ultimate wet dream.

For Halloween, the students were allowed to come in costume and before the day was over, Steve's email was blessed with a collection of pictures of the class, including one where several superheroes, princesses, and even a kid dressed as Chucky defeated the mighty Munson dragon.

It was so cute that Steve had half a mind to send a reply that said so but second guessed it. He didn't need to tell Shawn's teacher it was a cute picture that was the whole reason he sent it. He had to keep all correspondence professional. But it was a picture of Shawn so he was well within his rights to save all of them to his phone.

"You ha~ve a cru~ush~", Robin sang on the phone. She was pulling some dino nuggets from the oven in preparation for Shawn coming over.

"Shut up, I don't!", Steve hissed on the other end. School had just ended but there would be a staff meeting in about five minutes. "I didn't tell you so you could make fun of me-"

"Come on, you knew it was coming-"

"I told you because I just had to tell someone." Steve sighed and took of his glasses to pinch the bridge of his nose. "It's not creepy if he's Shawn's former teacher, right?"

"Steve, I'm gonna be honest, I don't think it's creepy now." Robin picked up one of the nuggets and chomped on it. "It's kind of crazy how we have dino nuggets and animal crackers but not the other way around."

"Please save that for Shawn when he gets there. What do you mean? Wouldn't it be weird?"

"You're both two grown adults. I don't see the harm in asking him out", Robin said.

Steve slouched in his chair behind his desk. "That's not the only fact here. There's the fact that he's teaching my son. If any of the other parents find out, they'll think I'm sleeping my son's way to the top."

"....In first grade? That would be pathetic."

"Most suburban gossip is, but you already know this. It's not me I'm worried about really, it's Shawn. Kids talk too and what if they make fun of him?"

"Oh no! My awesome dad is dating my awesome teacher! Whatever will I do?!", Robin wailed.

"He thinks we're awesome separately. There's no telling what he'll think of us together. And I...I don't want to give him false hope."

"Steve...when was the last time you went on a date?"

Steve let out a puff of air. "Does that one guy who ogled me a few years ago count?"

"Gross! Steve! No! Do you mean the guy who was just staring at you breast feeding?"

"Serves me right for doing it in public. And in shorts."

"Hey, no, there will be no slut-shaming in this household." Robin paused when she heard the door open and the bounding of feet. "Your gremlin is here."

"I think you mean my precious miracle from above. And you will treat him as such. My only gremlins are my sixth graders."

"Whatever. Just get your shipwreck together and decide what you want to do."

Turns out, Steve didn't have to wait long for an opportunity. Shawn had come home that day with a flyer for a Thanksgiving performance and was asking for parent volunteers.

---------------------

Eddie wasn't like, actively hoping that he would see Shawn's dad again. But when the fliers went home asking for volunteers, as well as an email, there was something going up. But it wasn't hope. It definitely wasn't hope. It couldn't possibly be hope. That way nothing could be dashed when nothing came of it.

So when he came into the auditorium after school, he was simply pleasantly surprised to see Mr. Harrington there. Not elated. Not ecstatic. Just appropriately pleased.

He greeted all the parents of his students, of which he only saw two others before coming to Mr. Harrington.

"Nice to see you again", he said with a handshake.

"And you as well", Mr. Harrington replied.

Eddie was sure he was imagining the electricity passing through their touch.

"Well, welcome to elementary theatre. Where we're gonna nurture any and all blossoming passions in the arts."

"Can't wait to see it. Um, so what exactly will they be doing?", Steve asked.

"The first grade class as the honor of doing a little song on what they're thankful for. Mrs. Clifford usually accompanies them by piano, but this year I'm hoping to get some more instrumentation for it."

"Oh, Shawn told me you play guitar."

Eddie's first instinct was to twirl his hair to hide his smile but it was still up in a bun, so he tried to fix his face to not be too obvious but he was sure it came out as a weird grimace.

"Yeah, yeah I do. Been playing for years. What about you, any instrumental skills?"

"None", Mr. Harrington shook his head. "My parents tried piano lessons, but I never took them for long. Just long enough to learn 'Mary Had a Little Lamb'."

"Everybody's got their talents. And no better place to showcase them", Eddie thrust his arms out around them.

"Well for now, I'm volunteering my time being a watchful eye and working on backgrounds and costumes. Plus snacks."

"Wait, did you bring the chips and sliders?", Eddie jutted a thumb toward the table near the stage.

Mr. Harrington shrugged. "It's just turkey and ham. And I know how ravenous kids can get."

"Are you guys talking about me?", Shawn asked, coming up to them.

Eddie watched the odd look on Mr. Harrington's face and was sure his must've looked similar. This was probably the longest he'd been talking to a parent without talking about their kid.

"I was just about to bow to your dad's culinary prowess", Eddie said. "Apparently, he made the snacks for this evening."

"I asked him to make his stuffing because, you know, Thanksgiving, but he said it was too early", Shawn said.

"I'm sure his stuffing is delicious", Eddie smiled down at him.

"You should come to our house and try it", Shawn beamed, leaning his head against his dad's hip.

Eddie looked back up at Mr. Harrington. "I'd love it if I could do that."

----------------------------

What the fuck what the fuck what the fuck

Steve was thankfully saved from replying to that by rehearsal starting and so Mr. Munson's attention was drawn away but seriously. What the fuck was that? Was that man inviting himself over to his house? Was it simple small talk? What was it all supposed to mean?

He was put on costume duty while the children practiced which kept his hands busy but not his brain, so he spent the next hour over thinking about that one line, which led to him overanalyzing the entire conversation. When practice ended, the teachers stood by the front entrance to wait for any parents that weren't already there or hadn't shown up toward the end to get their kids.

Mr. Munson waved off the last of his students just as Shawn finished in the bathroom and Steve helped him get his coat on. He looked hesitant before speaking up.

"Looks like you're my last one. I can walk you to your car if you want. It's pretty dark out."

Pretty dark was an understatement. It was near pitch black and the parking lot had bare minimum lighting. Steve definitely would've felt better about it if he had someone on the other side of Shawn.

"Yeah, that'd be great, thanks."

And without being told so, Mr. Munson put Shawn between them as they left the school and walked out into the parking lot. He gave a whistle once they got to Steve's BMW.

"Nice car."

"Thanks. She's been pretty faithful to me all these years." Steve unlocked the car and let Shawn into the backseat first. When he closed the door, he smiled at the alpha before him. "Thanks for walking us out.

"Consider it a routine then. At least until this place can afford to fully light up the lot."

"Thank you. I really appreciate it." There must have been the tiniest bit of a lull in the conversation because suddenly Shawn piped up from inside the car.

"Dad, can we get tacos for dinner?"

Steve snapped out of whatever staring contest he was having with Mr. Munson and looked down affectionately at his son. "What? My casserole not good enough all of a sudden?" He opened the driver side door and got in, turning the ignition on.

With them safely in the car, Eddie went over to his van and got in, waiting until he saw Mr. Harrington pull out before going his own way.

Later that night, after putting Shawn to bed, Steve was left alone with his thoughts again as he graded papers using an answer key at the kitchen table. It was easy to let his mind drift into just how...how wonderful Mr. Munson seemed.

He bit his lip and squeezed his legs together. Mr. Munson was handsome, and charismatic, and so safe, so much the perfect alpha that he'd been led to believe didn't exist. He could protect him and his pup... and Steve could give him more pups...

Steve's hand drifted down between his legs and he let it stroke a few times before freezing and closing his grade book. Time for something more mentally stimulating.

"Guess I'm lesson planning tonight."

Part 3

Tag Team

@anne-bennett-cosplayer @aol19 @lololol-1234 @hippieg1rl420

[nastyaromatherapy]

"I don't get it"

Y/n's been through so many tutors for econ, and all of them have bailed on her. Today was her first day with Ethan Landry.

pairing - Non-ghostface!Ethan Landry x fem!reader

short, 567 word blurb

Y/n strutted her way down campus to a fountain to meet up with her new econ tutor, Ethan Landry. She's always noticed the boy, focused in class while she goofed off with her friends.

She wasn't popular per se, she just had a lot of friends to distract her. So, she's always needed a tutor. She'd show so much promise during sessions, but always failed to pass classes. The tutors always left her, and the only one willing to give her a chance was Ethan.

She sat at the fountain, shrugging her bag off of her shoulder to start unpacking. She was a little worried, worried someone would give up on her again. But she had the slightest bit of hope. Once, she and Ethan actually swapped each other's papers to grade. He was flabbergasted to see that she barely even got half of the quiz right and offered to tutor her. However she turned it down.

"Finally decided to take up my offer, huh?" Ethan said, joining her at the fountain. "Whatever," she sighed. "You're literally my last hope, please, don't leave me." He nodded at her. "So, what are you struggling with?"

"Inflation," she responded. "Just don't inflate it, it's that simple." Ethan chuckled to himself at her unawareness. "Well it's a lot more complicated then that," he said, taking out a pen to write with. "I think I slept through that lecture," she said as she scratched her neck.

"Economies change and prices have to go up or down to meet demands. The economy is like dominoes, one thing changes then another, and another. Do you have your textbook?" She huffs in response and takes the heavy brick out of the bag.

--

"I don't get it!" She exclaims, getting frustrated. The sun was getting close to setting and the session proved to be a waste, she learned nothing. She couldn't blame Ethan, he was a good teacher and good at explaining. Economics was just something she couldn't wrap her head around.

Ethan was patient and was not getting frustrated with her, which was different than all of her other tutors. "And that's okay for now. This wasn't completely a waste, we've learned that this way isn't beneficial for you. I'll try something else next time, okay?"

She nodded at him, and when she looked up at him she caught on to what he said. "Next time?" she asked, confused. "Yeah, if you want that is." He responds. "You're not gonna like, abandon me?" He laughs, "Why would you I do that?" She shrugs. "I don't know, that's just what everyone's ever done." He shakes his head. "Economics' just aren't your strong suit, but you'll learn. I believe in you." He assures, smiling at her.

She smiles back, surprised that he didn't want to quit. "Thank you, you're the first person to ever do that."

"Of course. Anytime you need help, just email me." She shakes her head. "Why not text you? I'll give you my number." She takes his already opened phone and adds herself as a contact. "Thanks, Ethan," she says again. "I'll text you, okay? Make it home safely for me." She waves Ethan goodbye before walking back towards her room, his words making her more confident for next session.

Ethan let's out a blush when she leaves, staining his cheeks fuchsia. He's never been more eager to tutor someone again.

[milfjuulpod]

Guidance, Ch III

A/N: hiii sorry this took so long, all the chapters are posted on my AO3, same username. hopefully the next update will be better, i’m not too proud of this one :,(

previous chapters are on AO3 and my master list, here

You and Melissa had agreed on meeting after school for coffee on Thursday, giving you each time to prepare some work. One of her students was showing signs of dyslexia, and after a one-on-one meeting with the student, the redhead decided to take action. Via email, she gave you some information to get started and make an IEP for her. It was quite early in the year, and with it being your first year doing this job, you were quite nervous. Nonetheless, you put your best foot forward and got to work nearly immediately. 

Of course, your habit of drowning yourself in work caught the attention of others. A knock at your door pulled you away from the research in front of you. “Hey you! I feel like you’ve been here for weeks and we’ve barely bonded,” Janine announced herself, entering the room. The younger teacher was sweet, and even though her overzealous personality could be a bit much, you knew it was coming from a good heart. 

“Sorry, Janine. I get wrapped up in work pretty easily. How’s your Tuesday going? Kids treating you right?” You asked, minimizing the tabs on your computer. 

“Oh my students are great, right now we’re working on fractions and it’s actually going good!” She said enthusiastically. “I’m glad to hear, can I help you with anything?” You continued. 

“Uh, yeah! Jacob and I are going out for trivia on Thursday, you should totally join us! I heard you went to a great university and we would love to spend some time together after school. Have you met Jacob? He’s so sweet you’ll love him, you know actually-” You cut off Janine before she could start one of her infamous rants, which you heard lots about and we’re lucky to avoid until this point. 

“Actually, I can’t Thursday. Don’t get me wrong, I would love to get to know you guys but, I’m actually meeting with Ms. Schemmenti to help one of her students out.”

Janine’s face dropped, and just as quick as it did, she returned to her peppy demeanor. It reminded you of what she previously said about Melissa, and you silently wondered if there was any truth to it. “Oh, no worries. I’m sure we’ll figure something out soon,” Seemingly wanting to avoid more rejection, Janine gathered her things. “Wait, Friday is our half day, right? Maybe we could go grab lunch or something after school? Make up for me missing trivia?” You offered, not wanting to make her feel bad. 

It seemed like you made the right choice, as Janine immediately bounced back. “That would be awesome! I’ll tell Jacob right now, see you around!” 

-

The rest of the week passed by rather quickly, filled with new paperwork and projects that you continued to work on. Thursday came before you knew it, and with the final bell, the plans you had put most of your attention to were gathered, on their way with you to meet Melissa for coffee. 

Opus was gorgeous inside, filled with neutral colors and artwork from the team and local artists. Plants covered the walls and even decorated some tables. It was nice, you were happy to meet the redhead in a place like this. Upon seeing her, you felt your breath catch and couldn’t take your eyes away. Sure, it was right after school so she was wearing the same pink sweater and tight jeans, but something about seeing her more relaxed, outside of the school walls, it made your heart beat a little bit faster. 

“Hey hon, thanks for meeting with me after school. I brought some stuff to brainstorm with…” She trailed off, picking a table for the two of you and immediately covering it with papers and binders. Janine’s voice rang in your head again, and you began to feel insecure about where you stood with Melissa. Maybe even stupid, for thinking she would find a friend in you. 

“That’s fine, I’m gonna grab our coffees, macchiato?” You asked, but Melissa was quick to turn down the offer. “Absolutely not, you buy me coffee all the time. It’s my turn,” she walked past you, gently pushing you to the side with a hand on your back. Just as quickly as you remembered the infamous words about the older teacher, you forgot them. 

The rest of the afternoon was that way. One moment, completely entranced by the woman across the table from you, unable to pull your attention away. The next, avoiding eye contact and feeling uncomfortable and used. Something told you Melissa noticed your switch in behaviors almost every time, the way she would mimic your actions. It was impossible to read her. Maybe she wanted it that way, maybe you just couldn’t read her. 

After a couple of hours of this back and forth, the two of you decided to call it. “Thank you, again, for helping me. It means a lot,” Melissa said outside of the cafe, wind blowing her hair ever so slightly. “Oh…It’s no problem, I’ll see you tomorrow,” You smiled and turned to take your leave, anxiety bubbling at the surface, until a hand grabbed your wrist to face its owner yet again. “Hey, what’s goin’ on with you today? Usually you’re more…I don’t know…upbeat and engaged. Is everything okay?” 

“Yeah, I’m fine, sorry. I just…I mentioned to Janine the lunch you shared with me earlier and she said something that made me a little nervous,” You answered. As much as you didn’t want to tell the truth, you figured lying would be even worse. Instead of replying, Melissa motioned for you to continue. “She said she hoped you weren’t buttering me up for something and why else would you be nice to me?�� 

Wrong choice. Melissa’s eyes widened and you could see all the rage she had in her expression. “Oh, so I can’t be nice to the newbie for one day? I gotta get somethin’ out of it? And you believed her…This whole time? Whole time you’ve been buying me coffee and offering to help, what are you trying to get out of it?” She yelled, and didn’t give you any time to retaliate as she got in her car and left you on the steps. 

Defeated, you stood alone for a moment, trying to collect your thoughts. You felt like an idiot, again. For believing what Janine said, and for treating Melissa poorly. You threw your work into the passenger seat of the car and drove to trivia. 

-

“Oh my god! I thought you weren’t coming? Weren’t you going to meet Melissa today?” Janine nearly yelled as she ran from her booth of friends up to you. “Yeah…I did. It didn’t go too well actually so I wanted to come here and at least have a good night. I hope that’s okay?” 

“Of course it is, here come sit with all of us.” Janine led you back to the booth with Jacob and Gregory, happy to be in the company of new friends. “Alright, trivia doesn’t start for another thirty minutes, what happened?” Janine asked, which was followed by Jacob interrogating you as well, and Gregory listening attentively. You explained the entire afternoon to the three of them, hoping to at least get it out of your system. All three of them had something different to say, but you took Gregory’s advice to heart. 

“Listen, Melissa’s a bit tough on the outside, but she always means well. Just apologize to her for reacting that way and, with time, I’m sure things will be fine.”

Thankfully, trivia started shortly after the advice dump you received, and you were happy to be done talking about it. Hopefully tomorrow morning, with a macchiato and an apology, you could make it up to Melissa. 

[mayasaurusss]

being brought into lottie’s intentional community as a dance teacher to give her acolytes expressive arts therapy but noticing she never participates in the classes…so you get her alone and try to convince her to let go and dance with you

"Why do you never attend my dance classes?"

A gasp leaves Lottie and she puts a hand on her heart after you almost give her a heart attack. Lottie feels her blod run cold at your words, the shame of begin found out running through her veins, "I...uhm".

Months passed since you've been hired at Lottie's wellness centre. She had emailed you late at night, having seen your announcment online for your dance course. "Everyone needs to loose up a bit here" she wrote, "and I am sure this would be a great opportuinty for you too". Lottie had offered a great deal to you, paying you more than the course ever could and gave you a roof to sleep under. The lessons had started with the coming of spring and many had attended them. The first time the room in which you taught was overcrowded with people and you had to ask Lottie permission to teach outside. The dances ranged from quick to slow, from energetic to calm.

Many had loved your approach to teaching and came to attend your lessons regularly, hoping to blow off some steam or aimed to occupy their minds with joy. But not Lottie.

You adore Lottie. She's nice, calm, lovley and funny and you always love to spend time with her. But as the months grew colder so did her affection towards you. No matter how many times you asked, Lottie never came to your lessons. "It will be fun!" you say, but she quickly denies with the most unreasonables of excuses, "N-No I need to go buy heliotrope paint. For uhm, painting the crates...".

It's obvious that Lottie is avoiding you. You don't know why, you don't know how, but you sure as hell will find out.

You approached her at the end of the day. She had just ended one of her seminars and you had finished teaching hours ago. The room is dark except for a single light that shines down on where Lottie is gathering her things before heading out.

"So, why don't you?" Lottie gets increasly more uncomfortable as you repeat yourself, a thin tear of sweat falling from her temple. "Uh, I, you know I have been so busy recently...".

"Bullshit!" you shout at her, making her ears hurt and reel back, "I know you aren't! 'I need to go buy heliotrope paint for painting the crates' my ass! Those things have been left to rot for months now and just as I ask you to join my classess, you've suddenly got interested in them?!".

What you don't know is that for the last months, Lottie's been falling in love with you. It wasn't like that at first. She simply saw you as an employer, as a coworker, as a person and now as someone she falled deeply in love with. Her feelings were small at first, as they usually are. A little nod here, a small smile there and a little ache in her heart, as if it was pierced by a spine.

Then that wound got bigger: as the smiles and looks grew so did that warm feeling in her heart, so much that it pained her. When Lottie understood where her feelings came from, she got scared. She hadn't allowed herself to truly feel anything ever since she got back and to do so now would be childish. So she hides it.

She doesn't look at you, she doesn't talk to you, both in fear that wound of hers gets bigger and to see the hurt in your eyes. That is until you personally confront her.

"So, Lottie? Has the cat eaten your tongue?" that accusatory tone of yours only serves to make her blood run colder and colder. "Or do you simply not like me?" she can feel how hurt you are and an instinct inside her screams to confort you, to held you in her arms, to kis-.

"No, no! I swear it's not what it looks like" she begs for you to listen to her, for you to just let her-. "Then what is the problem, Lottie?" she can't find the right words, can't find the stenght to be thrutful to herself and you. So she lies, "I..." "I can't dance" she knows that the words come out wrong, a hint in her voice suggests that she's lying.

"What?" both you and her know that the conversation you're about to have is fake, built on her lie, but you let her speak. "I can't dance and I am embarassed to do so" she looks away from you so she can't see the doubt in your eyes. Lottie is about to walk away when you give your hand to hers.

"Take my hand" she looks at your palm for a moment, before asking, "W-What?" it's like her brain can't understand what's happening.

You try to send the message by moving your hand in front of her eyes, then sigh and taking it yourself. "Just...just shut up and take it" Lottie moves and now you grip at both her hands. Despite her towering over you, she's putty in your hands.

"So just follow my example, alright?" it takes Lottie a moment to understand what you mean, but once she feels you move she copies you, unsure of how to.

"One foot in front of the other" she is clumsy, hands shivering and feet twitching, the emotion of begin so close to you getting to her heart. "Alright, you're doing good" you try to reassure her but Lottie is lost in that world of hers, the one where nothing is real and it is still with her. She tries to remember what her therapist once said: 'You have to br-'

'There is nothing else besides you' your voice calls from the end of the room, people surrounding and listening to you. 'There is just you and your human emotions. Let go of anything that scares and worries you' for a moment Lottie's eyes look into yours and it's just the two of you alone. 'Be yourself'.

Something moves in Lottie's heart and all the worry and fear is washed away. Now she's the one leading the dance, strong but fair hands guiding you through the space. There is only you and her, dancing to a silent waltz in an empty room. The dance gets more heated by the minute, everything moves and sings and suddenly, it all stops.

Lottie arm is wrapped around your waist while the other holds your hand in hers. During the dance your bodies moved closer and closer, until you can feel her breath on your lips. "Lottie, I..." she interrupts you abruptly, harsh brown eyes staring into yours, "I lied".

"Y-you do seem to know how to dance after all..." but your joke doesn't reach her ears, "I think... I didn't want you to know". Words don't come out easy and a small feeling of panic rises in her heart, but she remembers your words 'Be yourself'.

"I think I am in love with you" you smile gently at her, enough to make everything else fade, "I know".

[uramilf]

Mutual Attraction - Part One

University chemistry professor!Matty x reader

A/N: As a triple science student I feel partially qualified to write this lol

Warnings: No smut in this part but mentions of sex, there will be smut in later parts, age gap relationship, teacher/student relationship, making out, mentions of weed and alcohol, smoking

       Y/N Y/L/N stepped into the lecture hall with shaking hands. Usually on first days at school, there was at least the comforting thought that it was everyone else’s first day too, but this wasn’t the case. A burst water pipe in her student housing meant that Y/N was late to move in, therefore late to start university. She considered herself to be late already, after having four years of work and travel after leaving secondary school. Now, at 22 years old, she felt ready to start her new chapter.  Her eyes fell upon him immediately as he sat at his desk typing an email. His dark curls were streaked with grey, a thin layer of stubble growing on his sculpted jawline. He was wearing clear-rimmed glasses that gave him a knowing and mature charm, which was lessened slightly by the boyish smile he gave Y/N as she approached his desk. “Excuse me, sir. Are you professor Matthew Healy?” she asked. “Yes, but please, all my students call me Matty. Professor makes me sound old,” he grimaced. Y/N laughed politely and introduced herself. Matty noticed that she was a pretty girl, with kind eyes and a beautiful smile. He tried not to think too much about it, mind returning to the matter at hand. “Ah, yes! I got an email this morning to say you’d be joining us slightly late. I hope the problem with your housing was fixed?” “Yep, I’m all moved in now. Sorry to bother you, I just wanted to check I was in the right room.” “No worries, Y/N. Take a seat anywhere you like, I hope you enjoy your first class with us.”

       As Y/N neared the back of the lecture hall, she met the gazes of a few of other students who had arrived even earlier than her. A group of them waved her over. There were three of them sitting together: Rhys, who was a tall athletic boy with wavy blonde hair and deep green eyes who was studying chemistry to one day develop his own brand of protein powder. His friends back home in Wales called him ridiculous, but agreed he was going rather far to achieve his goals, so supported him in his business venture. Orla, who had moved from Cork to London and was studying to be a medicinal chemist. Her parents were extremely proud of her choice of career, but hadn’t seen her in person in a few months. She wasn’t worried about this as it had given her plenty of time to dye her hair blue, get a collection of tattoos littered around her hips and lower back, and venture into her favourite form of medicine (marijuana, which she liked to pretend was to help with her joint pain). And Jasmine, an African American girl from New York City whose real future plans involved becoming a music producer, but didn’t have the heart to tell her parents, after her outstanding performance in chemistry throughout high school won her a scholarship to the very course she was currently sitting in.

      It was Jasmine who noticed Y/N first and, ever the social butterfly, called her to sit with them. “Hey! You’ve not been here the whole time, have you?” “No, I’m just starting today.” “Ok thank God, I’d never forgive myself if I hadn’t noticed you.” Y/N laughed. Rhys stood up to allow Y/N into their row of seats, shaking her hand as she passed.  “Sorry for Jasmine,” he grinned. “She feels the need to know everything about everyone.” “Do not!” “You absolutely do!” Orla started to introduce herself as her friends bickered. “Yes, Jasmine is nosy as fuck, but Rhys and I are glad to have her. She’s the reason we’ve all made friends so quickly, her being the biggest extrovert ever and all that.” Y/N chatted to the trio as she fired up her laptop and others filtered into the class. She felt more comfortable seeing that the lecture hall was full of people of all ages, some older than her. Rhys was in his early twenties too, and she agreed with being thankful for Jasmine that she was making some friends who knew what it was like to start uni a bit later.

     Matty stood up and started to speak, going through his powerpoint about redox reactions and reducing agents. Y/N was mesmerised by him; the way he paced as he taught, the way he scattered silly jokes throughout his lecture, the way he pointed to the screen as he made a point. The lecture flew by and before she knew it, Y/N’s new friends were begging her to join them for a coffee in the students hub across the road. “Maybe I’ll pop in later, but right now I have to speak to Matty.” Rhys, Orla and Jasmine left the hall, and Y/N overheard Orla say, “Fuck but he’s gorgeous, isn’t he?” Y/N couldn’t help but agree, and took a deep breath to steady herself before approaching Matty’s desk once again.  “Miss Y/L/N! I hope you enjoyed your first lecture with me?” “Oh, absolutely! I’ve been looking forward to getting started.” “I’m so glad to hear it, sweetheart. Is there anything I can help you with?” “Actually, yes. I haven’t had a chance to pick up a textbook yet, and I was wondering if you know of anywhere I could look for a second hand one.” Matty thought for a moment, before shrugging. “You know what, darling, I’ll only be teaching out of this one for a month or so. It’s sort of the beginner book to recap A-Level topics. I have a spare one at home. If you’ll come in a little early next lesson I’ll give it to you.” “Really? That’s so kind of you.” “Absolutely, love. Let’s say you come in about half an hour early next time and we’ll go over what you’ve missed, yeah?” Y/N was ecstatic that Matty had asked her to come early to talk to him. Sure, it was a catch-up session, but still. She left feeling like a giggly schoolgirl with a crush on her teacher, trying to justify her thoughts by telling herself they were both adults, and there was nothing wrong with how she felt. Matty himself hadn’t missed the glimmer in her eyes while they spoke. He had been trying not to let himself get distracted by the soft curve of her breasts, or the way her hips moved as she walked away. She was gorgeous up close, and the more he thought on it after she had left the more he had to try to keep himself grounded.  “She’s a student, for fuck’s sake,” he muttered to himself. “Don’t be a dick.”

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        Y/N was back in her flat staring at Matthew Healy’s facebook profile like an obsessive teenager, heat rushing to her face when she saw the word ‘single’ in his info. She scrolled through his posts for a minute or two, smiling at videos of him dancing with his mates on nights out and holiday photos where he was grinning with a drink in his hand. That smile. Ugh. 

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       Unaware of Y/N’s light social media stalking, Matty was sipping on a pint with his best mate George in a quiet beer garden near his house, a cigarette hanging loosely from his lips. The September breeze moved his curls gently against his forehead as George spoke, but Matty wasn’t really listening, “All I’m saying is that you should try and get yourself back out there. You haven’t even been on a single date in forever.” “Actually, I met a girl today and I think we really hit it off,” Matty blurted out without thinking, just to get his friend off his back. Fuck.  “Weren’t you at work all day? Better not be a student, Matthew,” George teased. “What?” Matty snapped his head up to look at George. “Calm down mate, it was just a joke.” “Oh. Right. Um, no, I met her in a coffee shop this afternoon. I don’t know, it probably won’t come to anything, but I’m gonna see her again soon.”

      The minute his front door closed, Matty groaned into his hands. Why couldn’t he ever keep his mouth shut? Now George thought he had a girlfriend, and would no doubt want to meet her. There was no way he could tell George that this mystery girl didn’t exist, and the one he had met was really a new student in his chemistry lectures. This was a fucking disaster. 

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       Three days later, on Thursday morning, Y/N made her way into Matty’s usual lecture hall 30 minutes early. He was waiting for her, sitting at his desk. He had moved another chair to a space right beside his, gesturing for Y/N to take a seat. His cheeks went slightly pink when he handed her a cup of coffee, saying “I thought you might want this, what with it being so early and all.” “That’s so thoughtful, Matty. How much do I owe you?” “Oh, nothing, please. My treat.” Y/N’s heart was pounding in her chest, but what she didn’t know was that Matty’s was doing the same. He started to talk her through what she had missed in the first week, stammering slightly when their hands brushed as he turned a page in the textbook. Y/N tried, but she couldn’t look at the book as he spoke. She looked in his eyes instead. She could see the whole world in them. She had noticed as she had been getting to know him that they were some of the most beautiful eyes she had seen in a long time.

        Before long their time was up and other students were filtering into the classroom, including Jasmine, Rhys and Orla. Matty started to wrap up his summary, not before exclaiming, “Oh for God’s sake, I’ve left that spare textbook in the car. I’ll get it after class, ok?” He tried to convince himself he hadn’t done it on purpose to talk to her again, but he just couldn’t. 

      Jasmine was enjoying a brief interrogation regarding Y/N and Matty’s conversation. “You’re telling me he just asked you to come in here and talk to him for a whole half hour? Fuck, why didn’t I start a week late?” “Stop that Jas, you’re nineteen! You’re much too young for him. And so is Y/N,” Rhys scolded. “Are you serious? Y/N is the perfect age to have a scandalous little romance with him.” “She is not, that would be irresponsible and ridiculous. She doesn’t like him anyway, do you Y/N?” “Go suck off your personal trainer, Rhys,” Orla jumped in, feeling as though Rhys was being a little protective over Y/N, although they barely knew each other. “Actually Y/N, Rhys poses a valid question. What’s your opinion on the absolute sexiest lecturer I’ve ever laid eyes on?” Jasmine prompted. “Oh, y’know, just that I might be in love with him.” Jasmine cackled at the look on Rhys’s face and replied “That’s my girl.”

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      When the hour-long class was over, Y/N once again allowed the rest of the students to leave before meeting Matty at the front of the room.  “Let’s go get you that book, sweetheart. Couldn’t have such an excellent student failing now, could we?” The pair walked out of the building together, Matty digging in his coat pocket for a packet of cigarettes and a lighter.  “Do you mind if I smoke?” “Not if you give me one.” “I couldn’t possibly condone that, darling,” he smirked. “I’ll give you a drag of this one if you promise not to tell.” He lit the cigarette and took a few deep drags before handing it off to Y/N. He watched her pouty lips as she exhaled the thick smoke, trying not to imagine what it would be like the kiss them right then and there. He took the cig back and inhaled again, throwing it on the ground and extinguishing it with his heel as they reached his car. He unlocked it and grabbed the book from the back, handing it to Y/N. The second their fingers brushed against each other, the light spits of rain that had been building all morning turned into a torrential downpour. Matty and Y/N looked at each other and laughed for a moment, at the awfully cliche ‘caught in the rain’ scenario, until Matty realised they were both soaked to the skin and ushered Y/N into the car. “Shit, where did that rain even come from?” Matty laughed. “Where’s your flat? I’ll take you home.” Y/N froze. Matty was offering her a lift home? Fuck, she was never getting over her stupid crush on her teacher now. “Y/N? Do you not want a lift home? I can drop you at the tube station or something, I understand if you’re not comfortable with me taking you home.” “No! It’s totally fine! I really appreciate it. I live on Elmwood Avenue.”

          When Matty arrived outside Y/N’s building, he parked the car and they sat there for a moment or two, trying to think of something to say. She could feel him looking at her, and she thought he was probably just waiting for her to get out of the car. “Well, thanks again, I should probably g-” Matty cut her off by crashing his lips against hers. She just sat there, not quite knowing what to do. She wanted to kiss him back, she knew she did, but she was frozen. He pulled away, embarrassed.  “Jesus, Y/N, I’m so sorry, I never should have-” It was her turn to cut him off now by placing a hand over his mouth and giggling.  “Don’t you dare be sorry,” she whispered, before pulling him closer by his black tie and pressing her mouth to his again. Y/N could feel Matty smile into the kiss as she tangled her fingers through his dark brown curls with one hand. The other hand cupped his stubble-covered jaw as their lips moved together. One of his hands was clutching at her waist and rubbing circles into her hip with his thumb, the other brushing her hair out of her face. He slipped his tongue into her mouth and she let out a quiet moan, making him laugh. Their tongues fought for dominance for a few minutes until Matty broke the kiss briefly to grab Y/N’s waist and tug her over the centre console to straddle him. He kissed her again as he gripped onto her hips, both her hands gripping his face now. After a few more minutes of kissing him, Y/N pulled back and looked him in the eyes.  “I really do have to go now,” she laughed, stroking the side of his face lightly. Matty melted into her touch and dropped his head down to place a trail of kisses to her jawline and neck. Y/N groaned quietly. “Stop, Matty, you’re making it so hard for me to leave right now.” “Don’t leave, stay with me.” Y/N rolled her eyes and climbed off his lap, opening the car door and stepping out.  “I’ll see you in class, then,” Matty sighed.

--------------------------

        Y/N couldn’t stop thinking about what he had said. “I’ll see you in class, then.” It made her feel dirty, and sneaky, but in the best way. She wondered how long she could keep her own scandal quiet. Sure, she would’ve loved to tell Jasmine, but Jas would never keep her mouth shut and she wasn’t sure if Matty would get in trouble if people found out. Y/N knew there were no laws against university professors and students having relationships, as long as the student was of age, of course. Which she was. But a part of her couldn’t help but feel that she was putting Matty in danger. Maybe she would’ve been better off staying away from him. 

           Back in his own house, Matty was drunkenly pacing the floor, freaking out. One part of him was thrilled that Y/N seemed to share his feelings, and the other knew that if he didn’t tell his boss about their interaction, he could lose his job. And although it was allowed, she was twelve years younger than him, and he knew their relationship would be frowned upon by many of his co-workers and other students. Well, maybe not so many students. Matty wasn’t stupid, he knew he was quite a hit with many people in his chemistry lectures, girls and boys alike. But either way, it would be hard for him and Y/N to be together. She would have to switch classes, and he wouldn’t be able to see her pretty face staring up at him during lectures, mesmerised by his voice. Matty’s heart sank. He had gotten what he wanted, but was it worth it?

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       A week later, Y/N’s chemistry class had gathered in Matty’s lecture hall once again. As they were split up into groups to work on a project, she had to fight the urge to not tell her friends about what had happened in Matty’s car. He was much the same, trying his best not to let it slip to George, although he so wanted his friends to know about the amazing, beautiful girl he had met. Y/N told her friends once again that she needed to stay behind and talk to Matty. Rhys raised an eyebrow and Orla and Jasmine nudged each other. “What now?” Y/N snapped.  “You’re spending an awful lot of time in here ‘catching up’. Aren’t you all caught up by now?” “Oh, em, yeah, of course. It’s not about that. It’s just about the project.” “Well, is it anything we could help with?” Rhys asked, clearly trying to prevent further interactions with Matty.  “Oh, leave her alone Rhys! If the poor girl fancies Matty, just let her speak to him. We all have our little teacher crushes, right Jas?” Orla shot back.  “Whatever,” Rhys muttered and stood up, grabbing his bag and storming out the door.  “Jesus Christ, someone’s got a mard on,” Orla said, rolling her eyes. “Ignore him, he’s just being a dick because he doesn’t understand the Lana Del Rey-esque attraction we have to older men.” We laughed until we reached the front of the room, and the two girls left me to chat to Matty alone.

        “Hey, darling, you ok?” Matty smiled softly. “Yeah. I just thought we should talk.” “You’re right, we should. The truth is, love, I don’t think we should take this any further.” He watched Y/N’s eyes widen, giving her a pained expression. It hurt him too to turn down a girl so perfect, but he knew what he had to do. “Look, Y/N. I like you. I really do. From the moment you walked in here, I knew it. You are beautiful. You’re kind and smart and you make me laugh. You’re perfect, love.” “So why don’t you want me?” Y/N asked in a small voice. “I do darling, I promise. But you shouldn’t want me. Having a relationship with someone older than you, especially one of your lecturers, will not make university an easy experience for you. Other teachers might start to treat you differently. You would have to move classes, and everyone would know why. Your peers might look down on you. I don’t want any of those things for you, my beautiful girl. You deserve more than me.” Y/N’s heart was sinking. He had to be wrong. She needed him. She needed him to forget the consequences and just love her like she wanted him to. A tear slipped down her cheek and Matty wiped it away. “Don’t cry, love. I’m sorry. But if we start a relationship with each other, the only law is that I have to tell my boss. And that will only create problems for both of us.” Y/N lifted her head to look at the man in front of her, his glasses slightly askew, hair a mess from how many times he had run his hands through it during his little speech to her. God, she needed him.

“So don’t tell him then.”

         Matty looked at Y/N and saw the lust and the neediness in her eyes. He grabbed her by the hand, convinced that he could feel her blood pulsing through her body when they touched. He pulled her into his small store at the back of the hall and pushed her up against the wall. Much like the week before, his hands roughly grabbed at her hips as he connected their lips.  His tongue was immediately brushing against hers, his teeth nipping at her bottom lip every so often. This kiss was more passionate, more desperate than the one in the car. Matty broke the kiss to bend down slightly and pick Y/N up, her legs tightening around his waist as they kissed again. One hand stayed on her ass, supporting her weight, while the other roamed up and down her back. Both of hers were caught in his hair again. She tugged gently on his hair, forcing a soft moan to leave his lips, which she eagerly swallowed the sound of. Their kissing grew messy, both desperate for each other. But they knew they couldn’t have each other- not there. Matty pulled away and lowered Y/N to her feet. Their lips were swollen and glistening with wetness, and Matty’s eyes appeared to have darkened so much that his irises were nearly black. He devoured the sight of Y/N in front of him, wishing he had the guts to take her right then and there. But he couldn’t. It was irresponsible, basically asking to be caught. Plus, he would make their first time special. 

          Y/N checked the time on her phone and groaned. “Shit, I’ve missed the tube! I’m gonna have to run if I want to catch another one.” “Don’t be silly, I’ll take you home.” “But you did that yesterday. It’s a twenty-five minute drive with the lunch hour traffic.” “Shh darling, anything for my girl.”

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A/N: Yay part one done! That was fun to write, let me know what you think!

[fakescenariosbeforesleepblog]

Could you pretend you love me? Pt 3

Soap x Fem reader (single mom)

Warning: grammatical and spelling errors. Long read because If I do another part I will forget about the ideas I have right now. Images not mine, credits of them to whoever they belong to. Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used nor do I claim to own them.

Tension at home is hard to handle, you don't want to admit your feelings for Johnny, he puts his distance and it hurts, meanwhile, Emma needs help at school, Father and daughter's day is knocking on her door, she needs a hero.

Finally after months observing your neighbor, you found the proof and information you've been waiting for. Is this still only a mission or it turned into something else, something more real?

It was midday when you received a call from Emma's school. She had a fight with a girl during breakfast.

You called Emma to her dormitory as soon as you ended the call with her teacher. You were upstairs, while Johnny was In the dining room, he was still distant, both of you barely leave the house these days. But you had Emma on speaker, so he could hear something of your conversation with her.

«i didn't mean to hurt her, but she was making fun of me and you told me to not let them bother me!»

- Yes, but I never said hurt her my dear...

«i barely touched her! Was just a punch in her eye! It's not even purple, I swear... Y/n, you have to believe me»

- okay, okay I believe you, but... Baby, please don't do that ever again, ok?

«Okay. Y/n?»

- Yes?

«Where's Johnny?»

You quickly turned off the speaker and took the phone.

- He's downstairs working, why?

«The girl was making fun of me because she says I don't have a father and that's why you came last year to the father and daughter's day»

- Okay... And???

«I was... Wondering if you could invite him... Or could you invite Ghost? He's massive, my classmates would stop to annoy me if my dad is there»

You felt your heart breaking, you tried to not make her feel the absence of her father but apparently at school things are different. You know you messed up with Soap, he would probably refuse, you didn't know what to do.

- Ah... Honey I don't think It's a good idea, you don't need to prove them anything, I can go again, I'll do it better this time, you will win 1st place... I...

«Y/n please, I won't ask you anything else for the rest of the year, but please, please. Anyone! Just for one day!»

The way she was begging you to help her was making you feel like the worst person in the world, you could hear she was starting to cry, you felt a hole growing in your chest.

- Emma, don't cry baby, please, don't cry, listen..., I'll ask if someone can help us, ok? I can't promise you nothing, but I will try to convince someone, yes? Emma?

«okay, thank you y/n... I have to go, I love you»

- Okay, have a good day, yes? I love you too.

The rest of the day you've been crying, you feel like you're failing your best friend, she certainly would know how to solve it, but you feel too dumb.

You were cleaning your nose when Soap opened the door of the room, you tried to hide your face but it was too late, he saw you.

- Are you ok?

- Yeah, I just had something in my eye. What's up?

- I... I found something, an email, he will receive a bunch of weapons and... Something else that he didn't specify, this week, and the strange thing is that it will arrive here, to the house.

- Why would he have that in his house?

- I don't know, but at the moment we have that, we'll tell Price, probably we would need him and the boys to help us if there's something more serious.

- Yes, I'll send him an email, thanks Johnny, is... Is That all?

- Yup, and You? Is there something wrong?

You were going to ask him, but you feel you can't ask him to help you if you haven't apologized for your little drama.

- No, all good.

He rolled his eyes, sighed and left you alone. You know it's always hard for you to say sorry, but he was right you were jealous, very jealous of that woman. So your second option was to talk with Ghost and convince him to help you, maybe he would do it, after all, he said Emma was a sunshine, that gave you a hope.

But why? It's easy to say sorry and accept that Soap was right and make peace, but you're mulish. You texted Gaz to ask if he and Ghost were in the base, he simply responded «mission». on the other hand, Price asked you to not leave the house and observe and listen to every little thing from the enemy.

A couples hours later, Gaz texted they were back on the base just in case you needed something, you were very nervous, you were making all this situation more difficult, you're stubborn and mulish, you called Ghost.

« Hi Lt., Listen I... I was wondering if you can help me with something, it is completely out of our work (...) Yeah?, I can't leave the house though, but can you come over when you have the opportunity? Thanks!»

You went downstairs, Soap was still working, eating baby carrots, pretending he wasn't observing you, but he was.

- Are you going to tell me why you were crying?

- Are you going to stop your silent treatment against me?

- That means you will not tell me... ok, I get it.

He stood up and put on his boots and a jacket. took his car keys and walked to the door.

- I'll go to the grocery store, you want something?

- I'm fine, thanks.

He closed the door while you muttered «i want my fake husband back...» you can admit it when you're alone, but never In front of him. You hate when he's right, you hate to accept it. You're debating with yourself when Ghost sends a text.

«on the way» you're praying for help, you hope he accepts because you refuse to say you messed up and apologize to Soap.

You're waiting for someone, no matter who, Soap or ghost, it doesn't matter, you're already bored, there's no movement or any interesting conversation in your neighbor's house. Nothing. Until the doorbell sounds.

Ghost is outside, wearing civil clothes and a black mask, you opened and offered him a drink. Both are in the kitchen talking about the mission, you mentioned your little discussion with Soap but not the entire version, you omitted some details.

- It'll be over soon (y/n)

- Yes, well... Now, I... I don't know how to ask you this so I'll simply say it, okay?

- Go on.

- Would you go with me to a parents day at Emma's school?

Ghost stayed quiet, shocked, he was waiting for you to say something else but you're mute now.

- Can't you go alone?

- I can, but... It's actually for Fathers and daughters, Last year I went and it was fine without any problem, but... Emma had a fight at school this morning, some girls were making fun of her because... You know, it's only me and her. There's no "Father"...

You laughed nervously, he's still thinking about what you said.

- You don't have to accept it though, I can ask Gaz or Price... Feel free to reject it but Emma literally cried and begged me to ask you...

Both stayed in silence, you're biting your nails waiting for an answer, any answer is better than his silence.

- Fine, when?

- Really?

- Yes...

You jumped to him and hugged him, you know he doesn't like the contact but you couldn't stop yourself, your face is hidden on the crook of his neck while you say over and over «Thank you, thank you Si!» he doesn't return the hug, instead he just gives you little pats on your back. A new person joins you.

- Ah... What's going on here?

Both jumped, Soap is in the doorframe with a paper bag, observing both of you.

In Soap's mind there's a lot of questions floating. (Why are you hugging Ghost like that? Do you have something with him that no one knew? Why am I feeling annoyed... Or... Am I jealous? Is this how you felt when you saw me talking with that girl? What are you doing to me y/n?)

- Nothing, I asked Ghost to come to talk about something and see if he could help me with it.

Soap is not ok with that answer, it looks like you hide something from him, also ghost is not helping he's just there in silence. After a moment where the three of you stayed in a very uncomfortable silence, Ghost stood up.

- Well, if that's all I think I have to go, send me details later Y/n.

- For sure, thank you Lt.

Soap's face is enough for you to notice he's more angry than before, he put the bag on the kitchen's table. Ghost passed by his side and Soap went behind him, both went out and you stayed there not sure of what to do.

Ghost rarely talks but this time he feels like there's something wrong between you and Soap.

- Johnny... Is everything ok between you and her?

Soap stopped and Ghost turned to look at him.

- Honestly, I don't know Lt. This mission... Looked simple, remember how I laughed and said it would be like those movies that mix romance and action? Well, It's more difficult than it seems.

- What you mean?

- it has been hard to... Remember we're just pretending, everything started to get more and more real. I think I...

He stopped himself, was he really accepting there are some feelings involved?.

- You what?

- I just... want this to end soon.

- it'll be over soon Johnny. Everything will go back to normal soon.

Simple but effective, those words brought some peace to Soap. He only nodded, they were saying goodbye when a Black trailer parked in front of the house, in that moment you also went out.

- Guys! I... Come here! Now!

Both ran to you, once you closed the door, you started to explain yourself.

- That trailer contains a Gas... Very toxic.

- What?

- Chemical weapons?

- Exactly, this guy is planning to use them to create chaos and move his weapons freely. Listen.

«Yeah, about the chemicals, I want it in a bomb. We'll drop it in the center of the city, it will be enough to distract everybody and send the rest of the weapons and missiles to Mexico without problem.»

- How are they planning to move all that? We have to put some trackers In the trailer, we will obtain the location of where it comes from or where it goes.

- Plane or boats, this location has a quick access to the airport and the dock and the port . Call Laswell and Price, tell them we have to move before this bloody bastard!

Ghost left after that, you and Soap stayed there, for a moment the work is helping to not think about the elephant in the room, both are too busy to pay attention to your hearts.

Soap went to put a track on the trailer while you were trying to obtain more information, you hide in the backyard of your neighbor, Jeff has been making calls all day, you're just waiting.

- Y/n... Tracker on the trailer, how's everything going over there?

- Nothing to report yet.

- Copy. Tell me if you need help.

- I'm fine Sergeant.

After a while you decided to go back to the house, there wasn't anything else. Soap wasn't there, or at least that's what you thought, you yelled his name but he didn't answer, instead you heard a noise in the bathroom, you took your gun and walked to the bathroom's door, you opened with a quick kick and Soap's voice and his naked body made you jump.

- What the hell is wrong with you?

- I thought you weren't here, you didn't answer! Jesus! Put a shirt on!

- I took a fucking shower!

You walked to the room and he was behind you, you heard him laughing.

- It's not fucking funny, I could hurt you!

- You wouldn't be so upset if I were Ghost...

He muttered, you turned back to look at him, what did he say? How does he dare to say that?.

- and you wouldn't be an idiot if I were that stupid girl you saw the other night! How can you believe I want to be with Ghost!?

- I saw you, the way you hugged him! You feel something for him, I'm so stupid for thinking you and I...

- No, you're so stupid to think I want him when I'm fuckin' crazy for you, idiot!

Both stayed in silence, you realized what you said and before you could say something else, Soap's lips Collided with yours, his body glued to yours, both fell on the bed.

A few hours later both were laying in bed, your head was resting in Johnny's chest while you were drawing invisible little circles on his body, while he was doing the same on your exposed back.

A pillowtalk about where this situation was going was enough to let all clear between both of you.

«I'm sure about what I want, and I want you, I want you Y/n, nobody else but you»

Both fell asleep, a terrible mistake.

- Soap... (You whispered)

- hmm...

- Soap, Wake up, slowly...

- What...?

He opened his eyes just to see you standing in front of the bed, a man has a gun on your head, while another is pointing to him.

- Stand up, slowly or I shoot at her.

You're not afraid, Soap looks at you and nods, you know he will try to unarmed the man at his side, you're ready to do the same as soon as he gives you any sign.

He gets up, with his hands up, in the blink of an eye, both unarmed the men, a shot echoed. You thought you were hurt but it wasn't you, a bullet hit Soap's arm, it's nothing serious, but he was hurt, you quickly made a bandage, Soap called Price to let him know what happened and warn him they were moving, the trailer was at the port with the missiles and tanks of gas. Another team was assigned to search and disassemble the bomb in the center of the city, while All of you were on the way to stop the ship.

It was easier than expected, all the men in the ship were new in this, some of them surrendered while some others tried to fight you, Jeff was captured by Soap, he found him in a restaurant close to the port, he was receiving the first part of the payment for his services, he confessed he would receive the other half after the weapons arrived to Mexico.

The night passed quickly, Soap was attended, he would be fine but he would have a new scar on his bicep.

Everybody was in the meeting room, Ghost was talking with Johnny about something, while you, Gaz and the captain were talking about what you found in the ship and the people who decided to cooperate and give their testimonials.

It was early in the morning, you were in your office, writing your report and doing paperwork when Soap's voice made you jump from your seat.

- Ghost told me about that Parent's day at Emma's school.

- Jesus! Fuck, you have to stop scaring me like that!

- Sorry, why didn't you tell me?

- We weren't in a good moment Johnny. Also, Emma wanted Ghost because she thinks he's more handsome than you and has a little crush on him too.

You made a mischievous smile, you were trying to pissed him, he made that fake and silly offended look and rolled his eyes while he was walking to your desk, once he was close to you he kissed your lips and muttered.

- Ew!! I don't want to know about my daughter's Crushes! And Ghost told me I can go instead of him just if you and Emma are ok with that.

You smiled at him, did he really call Emma 'His Daughter'? You returned the kiss and nodded in silence.

- I think she would love to see both of you, we'll say Ghost is her uncle.

- That sounds perfect, my sweet wife.

- Easy Mactavish, I don't have a ring yet.

- I'll get one as soon as possible, before you can reconsider and reject me.

Both laughed, how did you end like this? Falling for him and him falling for you, months ago it was only you and Emma, then all that show with a fake family that became real, you still think you're dreaming, certainly, love arrives and grows up in the weirdest and most unexpected ways.

Emma was the happiest girl at that Parent's school event, her 'daddy' and 'Uncle' surprised her, the competition was successful, Emma obtained the first place, all her classmates were talking about how lucky she was to have a family that supports her, Soap sent you a million photos of them, even Ghost looked happy to be there. Eventually for Emma's birthday, Price and Gaz joined her new family, everything resulted well after all.

For once, in months, you felt like you were doing it great not only with Emma but in your life, you felt like finally you were making your best friend proud of you, her daughter was happy, safe and healthy, with a new family, you with a great boyfriend who actually is a good father, and always reminds you how wrong you were about him.

- Okay, okay, you win, you're a good father and boyfriend material.

- Boyfriend? Y/n, I'm more than your boyfriend, I'm your future husband, and this time will be forever, and 100% real.

[finallyaniguana]

dickie needs to clean out his spam folder [35]

It took making my very first personality uquiz to respark my zest for creation (specifically based on the strange questions my brothers asked me when they were trying to hide the fact they were planning on bringing me Wendy's at work)

Sorry this took so long. Hopefully with try to post more soon.

[34] ao3 masterpost

The rest of the week proceeded much like the last. Dick waiting with the coach in the morning so they could all get to school. They went to class. Marinette joined Damian and Jon (who had yet to formally introduce himself) at lunch.

 

Damian had originally hoped that she would return back with him to his original table at the edge of the room. No such luck. They compromised by sitting a few lengths away from the nearest Dupont student. So, Marinette could still be close to Alya and Damian didn’t feel like he needed to crawl out of his skin.  

About halfway through Tuesday’s school day Damian got a text asking if he would be willing to just go ahead and fill in as the Wayne rep for the ride back to the hotel since they were coming from the same place anyhow. Dick had some real life catch up to do, considering he hadn’t been to his actual home in over a week now. Damian was sure if Marinette had an older brother, she would likely do what she could to make his life easier, so he reluctantly agreed so long as someone called Mlle. Bustier ahead of time.  

They had forgone the previous night's meet-up in exchange for a lengthy FaceTime call right after dinner – at Alya’s insistence. They supposed it would have seemed strange to refuse the opportunity to talk to each other considering they couldn’t just tell her they would see each other that night after she had gone to sleep. They agreed that night would be the same since it was easier, and they both got more sleep that way.  

****  

“Oh, shit.”  

Bruce looked up at his oldest, glancing subtly at the doorway (to ensure Alfred didn’t hear the profane language – we all know that he did though), frown on his face.  

“What’s wrong?”  

Dick let out a huge sigh before answering, knuckles pressing into his eyes.  

“There’s a teacher in-service day this Friday.”  

“I- what?”  

“A freakin’ day where teachers do team building and seminars and stuff, I don’t know. All I know is that that school isn’t going to be open, and no one is going to be there, and the French class is going to have nothing to do all freakin’ day! This email must have come in three weeks ago, but it got sorted into my spam folder.”  

Now it was Bruce’s turn to rub his eyes.  

“What are we going to do with the class? And shouldn’t Damian have known about this?”  

“Known about what?”  

Both men glanced up as he entered the room, backpack slung over his shoulder. He had just returned from the hotel, Tim begrudgingly picking him up on his way back from Wayne Enterprises.  

“The teacher day thing,” Bruce said.  

Damian stood still for a few seconds; eyes closed.  

“You mean to tell me that you have not already prepared for this?”  

“I didn’t even know it was happening!” Dick defended.  

“Tt.”  

Dick huffed in frustration, “Well, it’s not like you said anything about it.”  

“I’d assumed you had full knowledge of this. Apparently, I was mistaken,” he snarked back.  

To prevent any further blame being applied to either of the two, Bruce spoke up from his place on the couch.  

“First things first. Someone will have to contact the teacher and let her know about this... slight change of plans."

Both boys nodded but Damian was more focused on the phone in his hand.  

Damian 🐦💛: Richard seems to have forgotten to plan for the teacher in-service day this Friday.  

Marinette DC: whats that??  

Damian 🐦💛 : It is a bi-yearly event for teachers to better their practices and communicate with each other as well as develop a better network among themselves.  

Marinette DC: so is it like teambuilding?  

Damian 🐦💛 : Yes.  

Marinette DC: so theres no class friday?  

Damian 🐦💛 : …  

Damian 🐦💛 : No.  

Damian 🐦💛 : I simply found it so comedic that he would forget such a thing that I had forgotten you would not know about it yet. He is now scrambling to find something for your class to do so that you will not be stuck in the hotel all day. Father is annoyed.  

Marinette DC ohh okay  

Marinette DC: so any ideas?  

Damian 🐦💛 : Not yet but I shall keep you updated as soon as Richard has planned something.  

Marinette DC: okay 🥰  

Damian decided not to read too deep into her emoji choice, given her natural enthusiasm and caring personality. Nope, not reading into it at all.  

“Well, what do kids like to do on Fridays?” Bruce said, looking mighty close to just giving up all together.  

As a father of... many... logically he should know the answer to this question. He should be the end-all-be-all of teenage related questions, quoting the newest memes by heart while still knowing how to be authoritative. But he doesn’t. Because the memes don’t make any damn sense, and his teenagers all want vengeance and blood (okay so normal teenage stuff – but at least normal teenagers don’t know eight kinds of martial arts and have knives) and how is he supposed to cope with that. Fight crime? Sounds good. Normal teens usually aren’t interested in fighting crime.  

“I don’t know,” Dick said, equally stumped.  

“Well, don’t look at me,” Damian said, low key trying to excuse himself from the conversation entirely.  

“Well, now they’re definitely looking at you, Shortstack.”  

Damian flashed a glare at Jason, waltzing into the room, book in hand.  

“Why are they looking at you?”  

He rolled his eyes and left the room with that, leaving a stressed Dick and exhausted Bruce behind to explain the situation to both Jason and Tim, who had followed after Jason and into the room.  

“Oh yeah, Damian definitely isn’t the one to ask about Normal Teenage Interests.” Tim laughed.  

Exasperated, Dick slumped down into the couch cushion, frown growing larger by the minute.  

“What about the library?” Jason asked.  

Dick sat up a bit straighter. “I guess that could work. But Barbara might kill us,” he said.  

“Might be worth the risk?”  

“Not every teenager is a huge nerd like you, so… I don’t know if they’ll go for that.”  

“Tim, I have a gun.”  

“Jason!”  

BONUS:  

Jason snapped suddenly, an idea forming.  

“We could take them to tour Arkham.”  

“… are you sick in the head?”

[firstelevens]

song 25 + sambucky if you're still taking spotify wrapped prompts ☺️

25. Accidentally In Love by Counting Crows

When Sam’s phone goes off, he’s half asleep on his couch, buried under a small mountain of blankets and too congested to even really hear it that well. He only notices because it’s face-up on the coffee table and the screen catches his eye when it lights up.

He extends a hand out from his blanket nest and picks up the phone, wincing at the bright light of the display. 

It takes a second of squinting at the screen, but he finally manages to see that the notification is a text from Foggy: ‘any tips on how to handle your honors lit class? no subs available this morning so Hill has me covering’

‘Try not to show any weakness. They smell fear,’ Sam texts back. Then he adds, ‘There’s a Princess Bride DVD in the cupboard, you can get a key from Bucky.’

Foggy’s reply is predictably annoying: ‘does loverboy still think that you and me are dating? do I need to worry about him sabotaging my teaching in a fit of jealousy?’

Sam glares at the screen of his phone but it doesn’t do much, given that Foggy can’t see him. ‘Just for that you I’m not telling you where I put the Luhrmann Romeo + Juliet. You’ll just have to teach the ninth graders about iambic meter yourself next period.’

Foggy doesn’t get back to him for a while, which isn’t all that surprising. The beginning of the school day is hectic enough for a guidance counselor without having to unexpectedly cover another teacher’s class.

He stumbles to the kitchen to make himself tea, a blanket around his shoulders and his phone in his hand, but Foggy doesn’t reply for another twenty minutes. Sam’s head hurts too much for him to remember how neat the supply cupboard was, but he’s hoping it’s not so bad that Foggy’s just elbows deep in useless stuff.

After giving it another few minutes while he takes his next dose of cold medicine, he sends a text to check whether Foggy found what he was looking for.

The reply is immediate: ‘didn’t end up needing the dvd! I asked Bucky for the key and when he heard you were sick he said he’d handle it.’

‘Doesn’t he teach first period journalism?’

‘You’re sick so I won’t make fun of you for memorizing his schedule,’ Foggy writes, magnanimous as ever. Then: ‘there’s like five journalism students so he said he’d just combine them. said he could take your kids for the rest of the day too.’

Sam feels his jaw drop. Covering just one class is more than enough, but the entire day? When Bucky has almost a full slate of classes to teach, too? His face is suddenly all warm, and he’s at least fifty percent sure it’s not the fever.

His head is getting heavy again, and the screen is starting to hurt his eyes, but he manages to get a text out thanking Bucky for covering for him and assuring him that he can just put on movies for every single class.

He doesn’t have to wait long at all for the reply. ‘You’re welcome, Wilson. Now get some rest and stop worrying about your classes; they’ll be fine.’

Yawning widely, Sam types out a quick reply and takes Bucky’s advice, pulling the covers over his head and quickly falling back asleep.

Not having to field questions for subs or keep an eye on his email for questions from concerned students means that Sam isn’t repeatedly getting up when he’s supposed to be resting, and when he emerges from his blanket cocoon that afternoon, he can stand without getting dizzy for the first time in two days.

He celebrates by dragging himself into the shower, where the steam and the decongestant make it so that he regains his sense of smell, however briefly, and he feels more like a person than he has since Friday.

There’s probably an argument to be made for going back to bed, but Sam has never been great at being still, so he throws in a load of laundry and cleans up a bit while he’s on his feet. He’s about to make dinner, too, but then Sarah gives him a talking-to and makes him promise to order food instead, and Sam understands that she will instinctively know if he crosses her.

Sam already has the app open, scrolling through his options when his doorbell rings. For a second, he thinks that Sarah figured she couldn’t trust him to follow through and just ordered the food herself. Normally, he wouldn’t put it past her, but she’s getting the boat ready for a charter tomorrow, so he can’t imagine that she had the time or the cell service.

A peek through the curtains answers the question, though: there’s a familiar sedan parked in Sam’s driveway, a peeling Rutgers decal on the rear windshield.

“If you’re bringing me work to grade, I’m going to sneeze on you,” he declares, as he opens his front door to find Bucky waiting outside.

“I’m not a monster,” says Bucky, looking mildly offended at the thought. “How are you feeling?”

“Better,” says Sam. “I can probably be back in tomorrow.”

Bucky narrows his eyes. “Or you could take a second sick day and actually get better instead of running yourself down again.”

“We’re supposed to be working on that stupid archival project tomorrow,” says Sam. “If I get another sanctimonious email from John about prioritizing my tasks, I’m gonna have an operatic meltdown in the middle of his classroom.”

“Entertaining as that would be, there’s probably another way,” Bucky says. “I’ll handle Walker for now. You just worry about getting better.”

Sam could probably push back if he really wanted to, but he can’t bring himself to be mad about Bucky looking out for him. “Okay,” he says, and Bucky’s eyebrows go up in surprise.

“Really? It’s that easy?”

“I blame the cold medicine,” says Sam. “I’ll be a pain in the ass again on Wednesday, I promise.”

Bucky smiles. “I look forward to it.”

“Well,” says Sam, after they’ve both been silent for a moment. “Thanks for coming to check on me; I really–”

“Wait!” says Bucky, and Sam stops in his tracks, eyebrows raised in question. “I didn’t just come to ask how you were doing. I, um– I wanted to bring you this, too.”

He holds out what Sam now realizes is a bag from the Thai place near the school.

“I would’ve made you soup myself, but I had to stay late with the yearbook kids, and my Ma would kill me if I half-assed her chicken soup recipe, but I know you like this place, so…”

Sam looks from Bucky to the bag of food and back, his eyes wide. “Thank you,” he says, and he can feel how soft his voice has gone around the edges. He probably should make some kind of joke to restore the natural order of things, but he can’t bring himself to do it. “You didn’t have to, Bucky, seriously.”

“I know,” he says, with a little shrug. “I wanted to.”

“Oh,” is all that Sam can manage to get out. “Okay.”

“It’s cold,” says Bucky, once Sam takes the bag of food out of his hands. “I should let you get back inside.”

He starts down the steps and Sam only belatedly remembers to call out, “I’ll see you on Wednesday!”

“See you then,” says Bucky, turning to face Sam and taking the last few steps to his car backwards. “Oh, and thanks for calling me cute!”

Sam feels his eyebrows lift in surprise. He wracks his brain to go over the last five minutes of conversation, but he comes up empty. “Wait, what?”

But all that Bucky does is hold up his cell phone before opening the door to his car. “Night, Sam!”

Suddenly, Sam remembers sending a text earlier today, clouded by the haze of exhaustion and cold medicine. His eyes go wide.

He didn’t, did he?

It’s only Sam’s dignity that keeps him from sprinting for his phone, staying in the doorway until Bucky’s car pulls away.

The second his headlights disappear, Sam throws the door shut and hurries to where his phone is charging on the kitchen counter. It takes two tries for him to unlock it with his face, and then he’s swiping over to his texts, opening up his conversation with Bucky and reading back the last few messages.

His eyes go wide as he reads his own words back.

‘It’s so cute that you use semicolons in your texts,’ he’d said to Bucky. ‘You know I’m not grading these for punctuation right?’

‘Maybe I just want to impress you,’ Bucky had replied.

And then, because that wasn’t enough, apparently Sam had replied, ‘Maybe you already do.’

He’s pretty sure that he’s never recovering from this, but just to make sure he learns his lesson, he texts a screenshot to Foggy with the message, ‘COLD MEDICINE SAM CANNOT BE TRUSTED!!!’

Foggy just sends him back a bunch of cry laughing emojis in response.

[daydream-cement]

Hello! You might be busy so its ok to put this idea off for a while :)

but can i request a Larissa x f!reader? Making a fluffy meal together with larissa after a long day of work, and r had to question other people what food she likes, but then larissa hears abt this and requested a specific meal/food in mind (they can also bake if Larissa prefers sweets). Love ur fics as always :)

- 💗

Chocolate, Anything, Chocolate

Larissa Weems x Teacher!Reader

You sat in the teachers lounge with your colleagues. They had the opportunity to work with Larissa Weems much longer than you, so you decided to ask them about Larissa’s favorite foods. You wanted to surprise her with something and you had no clue where to start.

“I want to make Larissa dinner or something. What’s her favorite food?”

It was like the room spoke at once. Every teacher knew there was only one correct answer to that question, “Chocolate, anything, chocolate.”

After getting the answers you desired, you made your way back to your office to spend the rest of your break looking up various recipes, trying to find the perfect one for Larissa.

“Is y/n in here?” Larissa peaked into the teacher’s lounge, hoping to find you there.

“Just missed ‘em. They were just in here asking about your favorite foods. I have no clue what they are up to.” The response from the literature teacher made Larissa smile. She decided to check your office for you next.

———

“A little birdie told me, you were asking about my favorite foods.” Larissa perched herself of the edge of your desk while you closed out of your most recent tab of chocolate cake recipes. You shift uncomfortably, wondering who was the person who decided to expose your plan. Larissa continued speaking, “If you want to make me something, I absolutely love a simple dark chocolate cake.”

You eyes light up at the suggestion, happy to know that you wouldn’t have to painstakingly search for a recipe you would hope she would like. The search for a recipe would be much easier now.

———

Saturday morning you awoke bright and early so you could work on Larissa’s cake. You slipped from her arms and went to the kitchen in your pajamas. The recipe you found looked perfect for Larissa.

You enjoyed some music as you worked, playing it quietly as to not wake Larissa. You were still in the measuring phase when Larissa’s arms wrapped around you. You could tell she was sleepy by the way she gently rocked back and forth while she held you.

“Good morning.” You respond to her touch in a chipper voice. Larissa remained unamused by the earliness of the morning.

“Come back to bed…” She whispered, pressing a kiss to your temple.

You contemplated adjuring to the bedroom with her, but you had been so exited about making something for her, you shook your head no, “I can’t right now, Riss, but maybe when everything is cooling later we can watch a movie.”

Larissa closed her eyes in annoyance, but she quickly shook the feeling, knowing that you were trying to do something nice for her. She gave you a final squeeze and went to the living room where she took up a new resting place where you could see her.

She must have taken a short nap because thirty minutes later she entered the kitchen looking more bright eyes and awake. By this time, you had the cake batter finished, in the pan, and baking at 350 degrees Fahrenheit.

Larissa began making herself a pot of coffee as you began washing dishes from the cake making process. You wanted everything clean before you began working on making the frosting. While her coffee brewed, she retrieved her laptop to answer emails.

Together you did your separate activities in silence, enjoying the bit of domestic bliss you created for yourselves.

A few hours later, around lunchtime, your cake was finally complete. There was a bit of a delay when you had to shoo Larissa out of the kitchen after she asked to lick the spatula and then kept coming back for more frosting. You smiled wildly as you placed the cake at the middle of the kitchen table, ready for her to see what you created.

Larissa hit ‘save as draft’ on her current email and shut her laptop, her jaw dropping as she looked from the cake to you and back down at the cake again, “Sweetheart, this looks incredible! Thank you so much! Can I try some? We can do dessert-lunch.”

You smile at the idea. You grabbed plates and she got the forks and knife to cut the cake. Together you sat back down side-by-side, ready to try your creation. Larissa served you both a piece, but wasted no time sampling her slice.

Her eyes widened with joy and pleasure in what you created. You were mid chew when she lifted herself from her seat and placed a chocolatey kiss on your lips. When she sat back down, you sat smiling to yourself as you watched her continue to enjoy her slice.

“Oh, this is wonderful. You know, I love chocolate, anything, chocolate.”

You smile to yourself, knowing that her love of chocolate would allow you the opportunity to make her many sweet treats for the future to come.

[heejayy]

Shuri U. || Focus

Warning • none

Genre • fluff

Pairing • Professor Shuri x black fem! Student Reader

Disclaimer: I don’t know shit about Biochemistry so bare with me

“Make sure you guys study and please email me any questions you have about the exam over the weekend because I will not be able to answer them the day off.” While your professor spoke to her students that barely listened you internally panicked. You panicked because you didn’t know what the hell was going on, you thought it was a bright idea to go back to school learn after earning your degree in English Literature. You wanted to try something new and out of all things you chose to major in biochemistry.

You glanced up at your professor as she watched her last class leave without even acknowledging her. Yeah she could be tough but she was sweet the least they could do is tell her bye.

Before you could get your thoughts together your mouth started moving “ Professor Udaku?” She gave you a warm smile as you made your way over to her.

“Yes? Can I help you with something?” She said almost too eagerly.

“Um yes…” you said unsurely you had a question but you didn’t want to sound stupid or like your weren’t paying attention. So you panicked like an idiot “I- uh um never mind.”

Her face fell as she watched you hurriedly leave her class room.

“Damn it I should’ve just asked her.”

You sat in the library trying to hold back tears of frustration. You’ve been staring at this question for the past forty-five minutes trying to figure out the answer but you’ve come up with nothing. Further frustrated you slammed your notebook close along with the text book.

You roughly wiped your eyes trying to get rid of the tears before they spilled.

“Having trouble?” You jolt from hearing a voice come from behind you. You sniffled clearing your throat before looking around. It was your professor, great she’s now seen you cry.

“No I-I’m fine thank you though” ignoring your rejection for help she pulled out a seat besides opening your book looking at your work. She whispered the overly highlighted question to herself giving it a thought.

“Ahh ok so explain why enzyme catalyzed reactions are generally more responsive to changes in temperature than are analogous chemical reactions which do not involve enzymes” you sniffle side eyeing her waiting on her to answer her own question.

“Professor i obviously don’t know what the answer is” she chuckled at your bluntness.

She slid her chair closer while also pulling your text book to her. You caught a whiff of her perfume and you were mesmerized. It wrong to be attracted to your teacher but my god.

“Ms. Y/l/n are you listening? ” You perked up at your name nodding lying knowing for a fact you weren’t.

“Ok so unlike uncatalyzed chemical reactions, in which heat can be added or reduced indefinitely, to push a reaction-“ she lost you.

Your mind started to wonder after the second sentence. You knew you should be focusing on the work but you couldn’t. You were staring at her curly hair, along with her well manicured nails, and her unbuttoned shirt- her shirt wasn’t unbuttoned that low in class. You would know you were staring.

“Earth to y/n?!” You blink out of you trance looking at her.

“I’m sorry I-“

“Who recommended you my class?” She abruptly asked cutting you off.

“One of my friends Riri, you might know her” she shook her head letting out a soft chuckle like she knew exactly who you were talking about.

“Listen I don’t doubt your intelligence but I think you need a bit more tutoring, ya know some special attention unlike some of my other students” god you loved the way her accent rolled off her tongue, it was so sexy.

While she mumbled something about tutoring she took your pencil from your hands writing down something in your notebook.

“Here’s my number-“

“Professor i already have it you gave it out in open house” she shook her head.

“This is my personal number, contact me if you need any more help but for now I have to go, I have a meeting to attend” she slid her chair back standing up straightening her suit.

“We’ll get you to pass one way or another” she winked at you before smoothly walking away.

God she’s so hot you thought.

“Wait what did she mean by that?” You furrowed your eyebrows whispering to your self.

A/n: what do you guys think Shuri meant 👀

Focus Pt2. Fluff ver.

Focus Pt2. Smut Ver.

Shuri Masterlist

©heejayy 2023 — any reposts or translations of my works outside of tumblr are strictly prohibited unless granted permission 🤍

[monsterswithimagines]

Undisclosed Desires- Part 26

Joe Goldberg x female!Reader

Summary: Twenty minutes before he would have met Guinevere Beck, Joe meets you instead. You intruige him, but it will soon become clear that there is something off about you.

Words: 765

Masterlist

Minor disclaimer bc I don't wanna get cancelled: 99.999999 to infinity% of people with autism will not become stalkers. The person in this part is a bad apple. People using the autism as an excuse for the way he acts is me commenting on how society at large will use anything as an excuse for the way a man behaves towards a woman. Am I making sense? Also, this is based on a real thing, but not very accurately.

You sit down at Nadia's desk.

I’m sitting on the edge of her bed, and the distance between us feels too far, but I leave it. I don't think you want me any closer right now. There's probably no rage room in the world that can fix what you're feeling.

“So I reported him. Mitch,” you say, drumming your fingers against the tabletop. “I felt unsure about it from the start, but I just wanted him to stop bothering me, you know? Anyway, everyone had been looking away while he was… But once I called the police, suddenly everyone–” You pause. “And I mean everyone, Joe. His family, our teachers, even the police themselves! Everyone had an opinion. Everyone was telling me to withdraw my statement. They said: ‘well, he has autism. He doesn't know what he's doing. You'll be ruining his life!’”

I want to go back in time and punch everyone who told you not to protect yourself - and I think you can tell. My hands ball into fists on my knees. You smile sadly at me and continue:

“So I told the police I changed my mind, and that I didn't want to press charges after all. That's what it is in English, right? Press charges?” you ask this of Nadia.

She shrugs.

“Close enough.”

“Right. So. I did that. I told the police I wouldn't press charges if Mitch agreed to just leave me alone, and he agreed to that at the time. Only he didn't leave me alone after. He started following me everywhere I went. I could be walking my aunt's dog and I'd feel his eyes on me. I think he even hacked into my email, but I can't prove that. Once, though, I caught him–” you cut yourself off.

Nadia speaks up:

“She's too embarrassed to say it, so I will: he was standing by her bedroom window, masturbating.”

“I'm not embarrassed,” you say. “I’m disgusted. It was disgusting.”

“Same difference.”

“So, what?” I ask. “Is that why you came to America? Did you run away?”

“No,” you say, but a complicated emotion crosses your face that makes me wonder. “In high school, teachers kept telling me to just keep the peace. They said that once I graduated, I'd never have to deal with Mitch again. Only I graduated, and I moved to Utrecht to go to school there and guess what? It didn't make a difference. I got so tired and I just… I figured if I just kept talking nicely to him, at least it all wouldn't escalate. So that's what I did.

“But that just made him convinced we were in some kind of relationship, or something. And when I left for New York, I mean, that wasn't because of him. It was because of the job and because I'd always wanted to. But I can't say that Mitch finally leaving me the fuck alone wasn't a great side effect. I thought he must have seen me going that far away as some kind of breakup, or he'd gotten bored, or he'd found somebody else… I don't know.”

“But then you came back,” I offer.

“Yes,” you agree, and the way you look at me is intense. “But then I came back. I'm sure if he hadn't gone and died, he would’ve showed up in person one of these days.”

This is a pretty big secret to keep from your boyfriend.

The three of us fall silent. I can tell Nadia wants to say something, and I think you can tell I want to say something. But none of us say anything, because there isn't anything to say.

“You probably think I should have told you,” you say. It's like you're reading my mind.

“I can understand why you didn't.”

“But you still think I should have.”

And I would have made it far more painful than I did.

“Fine. Yes,” I admit.

You should have told me, (Y/n). You should have told me just how bad this was so I could have killed this motherfucker the first day I got here. No matter how jetlagged I was, I would have found the energy to put him in the ground.

“Well,” Nadia says, clearing her throat. “Anyway. He's dead now, so. It's over.”

“As if,” you say. “He's been texting me incessantly for two weeks. The police are going to want to ask me questions.”

“But he killed himself,” Nadia says. “He was mentally ill. What's to ask?”

For some reason, your eyes meet mine. But only for the briefest moment. Then, you look away.

“I hope you're right,” you say. And then, smiling weakly, you add: “so, what's for dinner?”