#teacher had to be so lenient on everyone

[theshadowrealmitself]

In that weird middle of things where I’m stupid and I feel it, but I strive for good grades no matter how difficult it is, and everyone around me just decides that I got good grades effortlessly no matter how much I struggled

So I have this weird identity of being the “smart one” of the family but! I’m an idiot trust me

[ebodebo]

Hot For Teacher!

—professor!simon riley teaching anatomy… MDNI

(DISCLAIMER: in this fic, the reader is getting their master's, so reader is an adult! that said, this is still a student-professor relationship, so beware!)

"I heard he was from Germany….or somewhere."

"He's probably sooo old."

"I can't find his rate my professor anywhere!"

"I heard he only has one leg!"

Murmurs can be heard spread around the room; your fellow graduates flooded the lecture hall seats, not an empty seat out of fifty in site. They were itching with anticipation and anxiously awaiting the arrival of your new gross anatomy professor, including yourself.

You were even more nervous than when you had to present your senior thesis for your bachelor's to four of the most knowledgeable, bright minds you had ever come into contact with.

That was intimidating, but this somehow feels worse. You find yourself sinking into the squeaky plastic chair, praying that whoever walks through that door is as gracious and kind as your last professor.

Heavy steps echoed down the hallway, slowly and steadily etching closer and closer to the room you sat in. Your eyes nervously shifted up to look at the wide open front door, and you tapped your foot, restlessly, to a non-existent beat in your head.

The footsteps became louder and louder until the man finally stood in the doorway, sparing the class not even a singular glance. He steadily turned to the right and walked up to the chalkboard, back towards the class, carefully etching something onto the board with a small piece of chalk.

The murmurs around the room seized as the screeching noise of the chalk against the board bounced off the walls and went straight into everyone's eardrums.

It was a quick, illegible scribble.

He set the piece of chalk down and turned to face the class, eyes roaming around the room, allowing you to get a better look at him.

He wore a black surgical mask just below his nose, covering his lips and jaw. And, God, was he tall. He had to be at least six-two, maybe even six-four. He wore a charcoal gray button-up tight enough to display his broad shoulders and buff biceps, with kaki cargo pants that did nothing to hide his thick thighs. 

Fuck, he was hot.

"Your last professor was quite lenient," his gravelly voice echoes around the room as he begins, leaning his hip on the table before him. "Don't expect that from me."

His eyes roamed some more, and the murmurs you heard about how hot he was seized as he spoke again. "If you think this class will be easy, you're sorely mistaken. Excellence is the bare minimum I expect from each of you," he sternly says. "I don't tolerate excuses. You're in the wrong place if you can't meet the deadlines."

You didn't know the first time meeting your professor would just end up with him lecturing you about his obscure conditions and rules like this was a damn military base.

You try to remember if this course was even required for your degree: it is.

"If you miss class, don't bother returning," he continues. The mood in the room had shifted entirely. There was no excitement left; it had been completely sucked out and replaced by regret and anguish. You swore you even saw some people with their computers quickly going to your university's directory, hoping they could still withdraw from a course.

"Lastly, mediocrity has no place in here. Push yourselves or find another course," he gruffed, pushing himself off the desk he leaned on and maneuvering back over to the chalkboard.

"What are the instructions on the board?" Your eyes snapped to a random girl raising her hand adjacent to you, and you were surprised by her bravery in speaking.

The professor glanced at the girl.

“Ah, yes. These are instructions on how to withdraw from this course if you so choose," he said. "Save me the headache and you, your dignity, and withdraw now if you cannot abide by my terms," he almost seemed disinterested. "Also, you will call me Dr. Riley."

He picked up the chalk, quickly etching a strand of words onto it. "These are my office hours," he says, setting the chalk back down. "Any questions?" He asked, turning to face the class.

Not a single peep can be heard. There was only a tiny squeak from one of the chairs. He crosses his arms. "Alright. Quiz tomorrow. Class dismissed," he concludes. You freeze up in your chair as everyone around you starts moving as quickly as possible to get out of there.

You're wondering what you learned today that could be material for a quiz. Instead of waiting behind to ask, you shuffle your things in a bag and speed walk out of there.

This was going to be a long semester.

It was three months in, and this class was kicking your ass. 

No, that's not right. The class was outwardly blistering your entire existence. You pulled countless all-nighters to try and keep up with the material, but it was too much. There weren't enough hours in the day to study the copious amount of material.

It didn't help that Dr. Riley was a bit of a dick. He gave no leniency. Can't make the exam? Too bad. F. Didn't make class? Yikes. Get ready to recite the last lecture in front of the class when you return! Can't answer a question he asks? Well, well, it looks like we have a slacker on our hands. Have a lovely time writing an entire essay on the topic question you failed to answer!

"Can anyone explain the process of bone repair following a fracture?" Dr. Riley questions, taking his eyes off the chalkboard and turning towards the now half-full class. You snap out of your daydream, carefully looking back to your computer to continue typing what he writes.

Everyone averts their eyes from him to avoid getting called on. "No takers?" He asks once more, eyes narrowing slightly. You look over the top of your computer, eyes wondering over the messy array of notes he wrote to try and decipher them. "You," he says, flicking a finger towards you. "Give it a go."

Your eyes flick to his before widening in horror. Shit. You hadn't even gone over this week's slides because you were still working on the hundreds of slides from last week. 

"Preferably today," he raises a brow, impatience written all over his face, crossing his arm over his chest. You take a deep breath, quickly scan your notes, and sublimely thank God you found what you needed.

"Well, first the bone goes through clot formation, then callus formation, then new bone tissue forms, then finally the bone remodels," you explain, issuing a polite smile after you finish, breathing out a sigh of relief as he nods.

"Uh-huh. It's a very interesting process. And do you know which of those processes has the longest duration?" He says blandly. You tilt your head a little, surprised to see he has another question.

"Well, I think that would be the bone remodeling," you affirm, shifting in your seat a little.

"And the shortest?" He quickly supplements. 

"Clot formation?" You say unsurely. 

"You seem unsure of your answer. Do you truly think it is clot formation?" He crosses his arms over his chest. 

You were sure of it, but then again, why would he ask you if you thought it was wrong if it was right? You open your eyes wider, almost like you have just had an epiphany. "I—no. It's callus formation," you say matter-of-factly.

"Incorrect," he says, uncrossing his arms and turning his back to you. "I suggest trusting your instincts next time." You sink deeper into your chair, hoping that somehow it will shield you from his scrutiny. 

"On that note, class dismissed." You quickly gather your belongings, but not before Dr. Riley pulls you aside to assign you a three-page, single-spaced essay about the formation of a bone after having a fracture due in two days.

"Also, be sure to discuss clot formation heavily," his voice carries a condescending tone. "So that when you present to the class, they understand the concept better than you did." 

Your brows furrow a little. "Wait, I do understand—" You begin, though he interrupts.

"That's all," he cooly says, turning to grab his things from the desk in the front before switching the light switch off and stepping around you to leave the room. "See you and your paper Wednesday." You scowled as he turned away from you to go to his office.

This was such bullshit. You answered all his question, but God forbid you answer one incorrectly—well, not even incorrectly; he just made you feel it was wrong.

This was far from over.

"Dr. Riley. I, um, I don't understand why I have to write an essay," you found yourself saying later that day in his office, around six p.m. or so, when most of the faculty had already called it a night and left. His eyes stayed laser-focused on some papers he was going over.

"You didn't answer my question," he says, scribbling something on the paper. 

You find yourself coming in, shutting the door behind you, and sitting on the chair before his desk. "Yes, I did. I answered all one hundred of them," you say matter-of-factly. The corners of his eyes crinkle as they finally flick to yours, clearly amused by your exaggeration. 

"One hundred, huh?" He sets the pen down, leaning back in his chair, threading his fingers together. Your eyes wander to his arms. He had rolled up his sleeves to reveal his veiny forearms covered in tattoos. 

You flick your eyes back to eyes in a panic, praying he didn't notice you essentially checking him out. "Yes, sir," you tried to keep your voice even.

"So, you want out of an essay I assigned to you? 

"I—well. I was hoping…" You trail off, eyes averting his.

"No," his tone is authoritative, final. You release a small breath, sagging into the chair, feeling defeated. However, you caught your eyes wandering back to his forearms before moving up to his biceps. Fuck. They would have busted out of his button-down if they were any bigger.

He was a massive asshole. But, so fucking hot nonetheless. Had the most enormous thighs and arms you'd ever seen. Taller than anyone you'd ever met. Had a gruff, thick English accent you drooled over. Not to mention his raging ego, which did something for you.

"What is it?" Your eyes snap to his. Oh, God. Not again. 

"Nothing," you said quickly. He looked puzzled. You sat back in the chair, smiling awkwardly. He followed, leaning back in his seat and spreading his legs wider to get more comfortable.

You find your eyes drifting down, observing his clothed cock in his pants. "Nothing? Huh?" The corner of his lip quirks. You stare back at him; your face is hot, and your hands are clammy.

This time, there was no denying what it was you were ogling so intently. 

"Listen," he sits up a bit, placing his elbows on his desk and threading his fingers together. "I sympathize with your situation." You raise a brow because there is no way in hell he was sympathetic. His lip quips at your expression. "So, I believe I have a solution to your dilemma." That has you perking up in your seat, feeling a sense of hope.

"It's a bit...unorthodox," he mumbles, eyes boring into yours.

You squint your eyes in confusion. "Okay..." You trail off uneasily, sitting up a little straighter. "What did you have in mind?" He tilts his head up a little, carefully observing your face, before standing up and gripping the knot of the tie and carefully pulling it down so it rests lazily on his sternum. 

"Tell me," he prompts, easing his way around his desk to lean against the side you sit in front of. "What is it that caught your attention earlier?" You raise a brow, not only at his new position but also at his question.

"Pardon?" You prod. He lets out a small, scruffy, breathy laugh, crossing his arms over his chest and showcasing his huge biceps again. You release a slight breath as your eyes wander back to his arms. He tilts his head back as he examines your facial expression, dragging his eyes down your line of sight. He gives a breathy laugh as he realizes you are shamelessly checking him out. 

"Mhm," he hums. You snap your eyes to him in an instant, though this time you aren't embarrassed at the notion of him catching you. No. You wanted him to notice. Maybe, just maybe, then he'd finally find the courage to fuck you over his desk like you'd wanted since the first day he had arrived. "Your mind seems elsewhere," he observes.

"No, I'm—I'm just thinking," you whir, sitting in your chair.

He tilts his head back slightly. "What about?" His tone dripped with condescendence. He most definitely knew. He could read you like one of those fancy anatomy books he frequented. You lean back in your chair, legs spreading ever so slightly. His eyes glided to leer at your slightly agape legs. 

God, you had on that little fucking skirt you wore every so often. The damned thing was a couple of pieces of denim fabric. Not too short, but, ya, if you opened your legs at just the right angle, you could get a nice shot of your panties underneath. How lucky for your professor, who was at the receiving end of that.

"Oh, I don't know. Just things, you know?" You spread your legs just a little wider, and you swear you hear him release a breath. "It's the first day of fall tomorrow. Did you know that?" You casually say, spreading your legs that much further so he could get a better view of the wet spot already growing in your panties at him watching you. 

"I did." His voice was dry; he was surprised to get a damn word out. 

"Crazy, huh? Also, I'm thinking about our lecture tomorrow. What's it going to be on anyway?" You find yourself dragging your hand up your leg to the buttons of your shirt, carefully unclasping each of them gently. He could feel his cock straining against his jeans seeing you, legs spread, fingers fiddling with your cute little button-up top with frilly sleeves.

"Sexual reproduction," he gruffs, fingers moving to undo the buttons on his shirt. You get the final button of your shirt unclasped, carefully sliding it off and onto the floor, revealing a lacy bra that matches your panties. You honestly thought you'd be more nervous, but with a guy that hot and educated staring at you like you were the sexiest thing alive, how could you be?

"Maybe I should get a head-start, no?" You proposed as he unclasped his final button, slipping his shirt entirely off. Good-God. The man was chiseled and hairy. The scars etched into his skin only made him that much sexier. He reached for his tie next. "No, no. Leave it on," you voice, getting up from your chair to stand before him. 

His greedy hands instantly sought refuge on your waist, dragging his fingertips along the waistband of your panties, giving them a little pull. You release a slight whine as the elastic slaps back onto your skin.

"Like fuckin' music to my ears," he groans, pulling you flush to his body, ripping his mask off to encapsulate your lips with his hungry ones. 

You yelp into his mouth at the sudden sensation, though you find yourself getting into a rough rhythm. His hand's paw at your ass as yours covetously grips his shoulders. Although you were flush against him, you sought more contact. "I need—I need," you whined in his mouth. 

"Need me to what? Say it," he urged, hands slipping to thread through your hair, pulling it gently. Your mouth falls agape at the action, allowing him to slip his tongue in your mouth. You moan into his mouth once more.

"I need you to—to," you stutter, unable to speak from how out of breathe you were.

"Say it," he hissed, pulling your hair harder.

"Fuck me. Please," you finally managed to say. He wasted no time picking you up by the back of the thighs and hastily placing you on his desk, flinging the loose papers and books that dawned it on the floor.

You reached between you to undo his belt and pant button as he slipped your panties down so they dangled loosely around your ankles. 

Your lips never disconnecting once. 

Once you got his pants undown and he your panties, he gripped your waist, hoisting you so he could pound his cock into you. You both moan at the contact, gripping each other tighter.

"Fuck," he groans, "Feel so good." You press your lips back to his as he makes work pummeling into you, his hands digging into the flesh of your hips to get as much friction as he can.

You were sure you'd have purple and blue bruises tomorrow.

He brings his mouth to nip and kiss at the side of your neck, his teeth gently grazing against the sensitive skin. "Drivin' me fuckin' insane," he grits, teeth nipping your skin again. You whined, bringing your hands to thread through his hair.

"I drive you insane?" You breathe out, dumbfounded, his cock still sliding in and out of you at a hurried pace. His tongue brushes your neck until it reaches your lips, quickly bullying itself into the sanctity of your mouth.

"Such a good student. Aren't you?" He gruffs into your lips; your mouth hangs agape at the feeling of him in you. "Always do such good work. Don't you, sweetheart?" You moan at his words; he presses a thumb to stimulate your clit. "Fuck—you, you drive me mad," he grits, moving his thumb faster.

You let a string of incoherent words, too caught up with his cock in you and thumb on you to form any real words.

"Huh? Ya, ya. But you must know that already. Or else you wouldn't have worn this—" he signals to the matching bra and panty set you had worn, "to meet with me," he finishes. You respond with another pathetic whimper, feeling your impending climax.

The moment he whispers into the shell of your ear, "Better come quick, or I may change my mind about that paper," you're a goner. You clamp around him at record speed, gripping his shoulders impossibly tighter, as you loudly moan in his mouth. His fingers dig deeper into the fat of your hips as his orgasm chases yours.

It takes both of you a second to catch your breaths, both heaving and chests rising with much pace. After you have caught your breath, he helps ease you off his desk, deftly reaching for your panties that slipped off your ankles in a frenzy and softly putting them back on you, followed by your skirt resting on the floor nearby.

You slipped your shirt back on, buttoning it as he focused on dressing himself. It didn't feel awkward like you had thought it was going to. Sure, it was quiet, but it was comforting.

You grabbed your bookbag, giving him a slight smile as you walked over to the closed door. "I appreciate you meeting with me. See you tomorrow, Dr. Riley," you kindly say.

He nodded, pulling his tie to rest neatly on his neck. "Don't forget about the paper," he plainly said, moving to pick up some of the loose papers on the floor.

A confused expression overtook your face. "I thought—" you began.

"I don't play favorites, sweetheart," he interrupted. "Write the paper."

Okay, he was still a dick, but oh well, sure, you'd write the damn paper, maybe even put a couple of errors in it so that he could deduct some points off, and you could request to meet with him again.

Ya, that sounded like a fine plan indeed.

a/n: inspired by a lovely who commented on my poll about professor!simon <33 @aiqsa (this took me so long omg)

reblogs & comments are encouraged!

[starkwlkr]

you should definitely have Olivia + her brothers do that challenge where it’s like “who’s more lenient” “who’s more strict” and the kids dunk Hugh and Mom head into water or something like that 😭 and then have Mom & Dad do it to them “who is more rebellious” “who asks for more money” “who does their school work” etc

do it for the tiktok | hugh jackman

an: thank you anon for the request!! olivia back at it again with the tiktok trends 😭

marvel actress!reader masterlist

“But I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Well for starters, you’re not supposed to drown me in the bowl!” You were nervous, but prepared yourself.

“Mom, you have to do it for the tiktok!”

Olivia had the bright idea to do a tiktok trend with her family. She found the audio for the trend then quickly explained the trend to her parents. On the table were two large bowls filled with water. When Olivia explained, you were certain so many things would go wrong. You sat next to Hugh, who was more than ready.

“Alright, are we ready?” Olivia asked everyone. Alex and Reese mumbled a ‘yes’ while Hugh have a thumbs up, you nod. “Okay, lets start.”

“Who’s more strict?”

You were dunked into the water by all three kids without warning. It was fast, but it caught you by surprise. “Oh my god.” You said when you came back up.

“Who’s the messiest?” You and Hugh stayed safe for that question. You were both pretty organized people.

“Who’s is the worse driver?”

You already knew it was coming. Your head got dunked in the water by Olivia.

“I’m not that bad!” You protested.

“Who snores the loudest?” Finally it was Hugh’s turn to get dunked. Water spilled everywhere, some splashing on your clothes.

“I don’t like this game anymore.” Hugh wiped his face off with a napkin.

“Who’s more likely to get arrested?”

None of the kids knew the answer so they didn’t do anything.

“Who’s the cooler parent?”

For that, both you and Hugh went down. At least the kids thought you were cool and that was all that mattered.

It was now the kids turn to be dunked into the water bowls. You added a third one since it was Alex, Reese and Olivia. You and Hugh were more than ready to get some revenge.

“Who’s the messiest?”

Hugh and you put Olivia’s head in the bowl. She was already expecting to be dunked anyways.

“I’m pretty sure she has a coffee pot under her bed. Stop trying to be Nancy Thompson, Liv.” Reese teased.

“Who got into trouble more growing up?”

You dunked Alex’s head, Hugh let you do the honor. You had lost count of how many times Alex’s principal called when Alex was in school. You never received any complaints about Reese, while with Olivia it was just a few.

“I’m pretty sure my teachers hated me.” Alex laughed, grabbing the napkin Hugh passed him to wipe his face off.

“Who asks for more money?”

Since both Alex and Reese had their own, that left Olivia to be the one that somewhat relied on you and Hugh financially. Hugh was the one that dunked Olivia in the water.

“Speaking of asking for money…” Olivia smiled.

“No, I’m not giving you money.” Hugh said.

“Fine, a birkin will do just fine.”

“Who is the most rebellious?”

Easy, none of the kids. (But if you were to ask that question a couple years ago, it would be Alex getting his head shoved into the water.)

“Who is the favorite child?”

For the last question, you and Hugh dunked all the kids’ heads in the water.

@kellyxo1

[otakusheep15]

Flufftober Day 28 - Protect

Content includes: Trein and reader, platonic (father child duo), Crowley being horrible as usual, protective Trein

Ever since you started his class, Trein has been keeping an eye on you. You and your friends are naturally known to cause trouble, so he has to make sure you aren’t disrupting his class.

However, the more he watched over you, the more fond he became.

Trein has a soft spot for children. It’s why he became a teacher after all.

You remind him a lot of his daughters, strong and kind and caring. You’re surprisingly good at taking care of your friends, at least attempting to keep them out of trouble when you can. It’s not always successful, but it’s the thought that counts.

It’s rare that he has a favorite in one of his classes. Usually, he cares for all his students equally, but you’re a special student in his eyes.

Because of this, Trein finds himself being much more lenient with you. When he’s grading papers, he’s always more forgiving when you make small mistakes, as long as it’s nothing major. In class, he never scolds you if he sees you dozing off, knowing you probably had a long night handling some issue with a fellow student.

And, most importantly, Trein always seems to be the first to defend you whenever he senses trouble.

Today was yet another faculty meeting. Crowley was going on and on about something no one really cared about. Crewel was busy grading papers, Vargas was outlining a workout routine for the Spelldrive club, and Sam wasn’t even present.

Trein tried to listen, knowing they would all get an earful from Crowley if no one was paying attention.

Then, Crowley mentions you, and that certainly gets Trein’s attention. Crowley goes on to give a long list of various responsibilities he plans on passing onto you, responsibilities that should be his to deal with. He gives some excuse about needing to “free up his own schedule for more important matters” and how “this will be a good learning experience for you”, but Trein isn’t buying it.

He, as well of the rest of the staff, knew how much Crowley pushed onto you. None of them like it, but it’s impossible to convince Crowley to back off once he’s set his mind on something.

Trein continues to listen, upset at how much Crowley is planning on giving you. You’ve already fallen asleep in class twice this week, and he knows you can’t possibly handle anymore stress.

Eventually, he’s had enough, and he stands up glaring at Crowley. This grabs the attention of his coworkers, and they all watch in stunned silence as Trein yells at Crowley, calling him every name under the sun as he explains just how tired you are and how you deserve a break.

Crowley gives a weak excuse, and Trein easily dismisses it, continuing to scold him.

It’s understandable how shocked everyone is. Even when he’s upset, Trein is never one to lose his temper under normal circumstances. It’s a bit startling, but there’s no denying that it wasn’t deserved. Everyone knows just how fond he’s become of you, practically treating you like his third child.

When Trein is finished, there’s a few moments of stunned silence as everyone processes what just happened. Then, Crowley looks away, awkwardly coughing as he thinks of what to say. His voice is weak, but he does make some comment about how, since he’s so generous and kind, he supposes he’ll give you a break.

Trein sits back down, feeling a bit embarrassed about his outburst. He can see Crewel smirking out of the corner of his eye, and he knows he’s going to be cornered by him later for a gossip session.

Even so, he doesn’t regret it. He will always protect you if given the chance. You’re the obvious favorite, and he’ll do everything within his power to make sure you’re taken care of while at this school.

[everything-fine-n-peachy]

agree to disagree (z.cl)

pairings: zhong chenle x reader genre: high school angst summary: y/n thinks chenle has the biggest head on the planet (literally and figuratively) and chenle is a boy with a crush and a lot of issues to work through.

warning: slight mention of parental neglect and ensuing anxiety

You hated Chenle’s guts. 

There was just something about this boy that made your eyes roll every single time he was with you in the same room. You had to agree that there were perks to haveing someone as affluent as Chenle in your grade. The sponsorships from his family during school events meant that teachers were inevitably more lenient. But behind this so called generosity, you could clearly see the humble brag that he was. 

Everyone adored the fair skinned boy who liked to laugh obnoxiously loud with his friends who all wore rolex watches. There was an undeniable envy behind the thin veil of admiration that everyone seemed to have though. Except you, ya’ll stay safe. 

You knew it since day one of the 7th grade when the teacher announced elections for class officers a week prior. Elections that you intended to win. The next day Chenle showed up with a bag of lollipops for everyone, automatically securing him a win as president of the class while you lost with less than five votes to your name. 

It wasn’t to say that he did a lousy job. But he wasn’t going to silently work behind the scenes, no. He liked to make everyone aware of his status and wealth in the most subtle of ways. Free snacks whenever he felt like it, free entrance at the golfclub their family owned, and souvenirs for everyone from when he would go overseas with his grandparents. And you hated it. The feeling of being treated as a charity case. Like this boy thought he could buy everyone’s love. But not you. 

“I hope everyone enjoys the free handwash mom says they cost a lot,�� he announced. You with the long French braid and mouth full of braces promptly had enough by then. 

You approach him with your irritation having reached it’s limit within your stature of four-feet-eleven. “If you’re always going to tell us how expensive everything is, then I think you should just shut up,” you spat, shoving the pink paper packing into his chest. You walk away with satisfaction as Chenle muttered crap about how it was from the tropical islands of whatever country you couldn’t pronounce. 

Your hate was was palpable across the entire grade for the next five years. Everyone knew that you and Chenle didn’t mix except maybe your 12th grade English teacher. 

“Class this is just for the first term. No one is being forced to sign a marriage certificate so I would appreciate if everyone cooperated with their partner,” Ms. Son commented as she flashed the list of pairs on the screen in front.

You visibly frowned, “you gotta be kidding me.” Jaemin, who sat next to you tried to contain his laughter upon realizing that you had in fact been paired-up with Chenle. Ms. Son eyes anyone who dared to complain before explaining the project. “I want each pair to pick a topic that you disagree on. For the next nine weeks I want you to come up with a presentation on how communication skills will help you understand a different perspective.” 

Murmurs fill the room. Some of your classmates are excited. Many are quite bored and just wish the bell would ring. You are downright fumming at Chenle’s audacity to wave at you from across the room when your eyes meet. 

On the first meeting you drag yourself into the library for the inevitable. Chenle lounges lazily on one of the bean bags, engrossed in his tablet. You drop your things on an empty table before clearing your throat. 

“I think the sooner we get this over with the better,” you say with a tight lipped expression. He agrees before standing up and joining you on the table. 

You notice him studying you and can’t help but fumble with your pencil and notebook. “Why are you looking at me?” 

“I just can’t figure out why you hate me so much,” he mutters more to himself than to you. 

“We’re here to discuss the assignment.” you pointedly respond before proceeding to go over some of the topics you wanted to tackle. As you’re reading off the list you notice Chenle’s eyes linger on you a few times. You find the way he can keep eye contact unsettling but you push on wanting the assignment to be over sooner rather than later. 

The good news was that you found plenty of topics that you disagree on. The bad news was that none of you could get through a conversation without picking a fight, well mostly you couldn’t get through a conversation without picking a fight. 

You mutually decide that Renjun would be present on your second meeting. You both think maybe a mediator would help you. But not even 30 minutes in and Renjun’s hands are rubbing his cheeks in frustration. 

 “Let’s take this from the top shall we?” He reiterates,” you need to listen to each other first. Stop trying to win over each other.” 

“I think there’s nothing wrong with using your connections to get farther in life, if I have an advantage why shouldn’t I use it?” Chenle states.  

“If said advatange is within your reach because of privileges that you have, shouldn’t that be regulated by policy?” You bite back. 

“They /are/ regulated by policy. Don’t companies have referals? Isn’t that even better since people are vouching for them?” 

At this point Renjun let out an exasperated sigh. None of you were listening to each other, let alone him. “Guys, the pont of this assignment is to hear both sides. I need you to find some common ground,” he exclaims earning some looks from other kids in the lounge. 

The two of you promptly stop arguing. Renjun sighs again, “you don’t actually disagree as much as you think.” 

You snort in response, “yeah and Chenle just needs to get his big head back to earth to see that not everyone has a rich family who can get them places.” 

“Why do you always act like that’s a bad thing?” Chenle retaliates. 

“It’s a bad thing when you keep trying to buy your way through life!” you yell. 

You visibly see Chenle shrink back into his chair. His face morphs into something you’re not sure of. Even you are a little surprised at yourself. 

Chenle presses his lips together. He laughs to himself before speaking, “well, I don’t know what to say to that. But I have taekwondo training in five, so …” 

You watch Chenle gather his stuff in silence. You stare hard at the blue metallic surface of the table long after Chenle is out the door. 

“That was pretty mean even by your standards,” Renjun said. “I get that he’s annoying but isn’t that a bit unfair considering you barely know him?” 

That night you stare up at the ceiling finding it hard to sleep. You toss and turn thinking about Chenle. You remember the boy who bragged about his thousand dollar drone, the boy who accidentally dumped his iphone in the pond and had a new one the next day, the boy who liked to tell people that money wasn’t a problem. 

Then you also remembered that he was the boy whose parents didn’t show up to any ribbon ceremony, the kid who constantly brought nannies instead of family to his school shows, and the only one who hadn’t received a personalized letter from his mom or dad during the senior retreat in 10th grade. 

You think you don’t really know Chenle as much as you’d like to think. Maybe you were the problem for allowing your 7th grade grudge get the best of you for the last five years. Maybe, you needed to give this project a chance by not sabotaging it nearly as much as you did. 

You’re nervous when the third meeting comes up. Words have been scarce between you and Chenle but you at least have the decency to set up another meeting at the library. You’re a few minute early but soon five minutes turned into ten and ten turned into twenty. You attempted to text your partner but to no avail, you try and look for him yourself. 

A few steps into the 12th grade corridor you hear shuffling in one of the rooms. Curious, you follow the sounds and find yourself face to face with Chenle who was in the process of pacing. You can’t help but notice that his hands shake a bit. 

“Go away,” he says. When you don’t follow his command, he let’s out a shaky breath and a tiny laugh before slumping against the wall. You stand and watch as he sinks to the ground. 

“You’re probably right. All I have going for me is my family and I can’t even please them. Can't win a medal, can't get on the merit list.” 

You find yourself sitting next to him, leaning your head against the wall. Not quite sure what to respond, you let him drawl on. 

“I don’t even like taekwondo,” he laughed to himself again. 

“Why do you do it then if you don’t like it?”

“It’s the only tournament my dad ever attends.” 

Your eyes look straight at the windows that offer a view of the sun setting beautifully in soft hues of pink and stark orange while you both bask in the misery of the moment. 

“I got into university today. The university that they wanted for me so badly.” 

“Do you want to go?” 

“No,” he chuckled, covering his face with his hands. 

“Then don’t go. You’re plenty smart I’m sure you’ll find a good university that you actually want to go to,” you reply turning your face to look at Chenle. 

He takes a deep breath, shaking his head. “My parents have already paid for the first semester.” 

There’s a long pause before Chenle speaks again. “I was thinking about what you said a couple of days ago. It kinda stung but it wasn’t something I heard for the first time.” 

You unconsciously shift your position, uneasy at how Chenle’s demeanor changed from the last time you spoke to him with Renjun at the students’ lounge. He seemed so vulnerable, cocky have-it-all attitude all gone. Instead, a very much exhausted Chenle seemed to take his place. 

“I don’t take any offense, don’t worry,” he assured you. “I just reaized for the first time that I actually let myself use my pain as an excuse. I parade this generational wealth around since that’s all it was ever good for.” 

You feel yourself soften at his confession. Not that he was totally forgiven but it was a start. “That still isn’t an excuse for me being mean to you for the longest time. I apologize,” you mutter, eyes looking ahead. 

“I guess we can call it even since I’ve been a jerk to you, too. Sorry bout that.” 

You turn only to realize that Chenle was already looking at you. He had always been looking at you except you never did notice. He liked the way your eyes reflected the pretty sunset. Even after five years, his crush on you hadn’t worn off. 

Truth be told, he pulled half the stunts he did to get your attention. Winning class president, giving away free strawberry hand soap because he had overheard that you liked the color pink, engaging you in arguments, and everything in between. 

He knew from when you didn’t back down from him during class elections. Since then he only found more reasons to reaffirm his feelings with everything you do. His heart would skip a beat when your bright voice fills a room when you talk about social injustice, the way you were so proud of your dad, a teacher on career day, or the way you earnestly listen to your friends when they have something to say. 

Chenle offers his hand, “to new beginnings?” 

“To new beginnings,” you replied. 

As you’re both standing up to leave you can’t help but feel the urge say something. “Chenle, about the university. I guess there won’t be any harm if you honestly tell your parents that you don’t want to go. Just a suggestion,” you offer with your palms raised. 

For the first time, you experience Chenle smiling at you. Like, really smiling at you. You aren’t particularly sure why but you notice the crinkle of his eyes and the lopsided curve of his lips and you can’t help but feel endeared. 

“Well, there’s that,” he says. “But I’m hungry. We should order pizza.” 

You nod in reply, “as long as you aren’t getting them with pineapples, I’m down.” 

Chenle’s eyes widen as he slowly lowers his phone, “you don’t like pineapples on pizza?” 

“They’re disgusting, no.” 

“But they bring out all the other flavors!” he exclaims. 

You smile at him while he continues to tap on his phone. As you walk down the corridor you think- no, you feel that something has changed and even if you wouldn’t want to admit it, you were glad that it did. 

“Let’s just agree to disagree,” you finally said, putting one foot in front of the other. 

[sgt-tombstone]

y’all don’t mind if I ramble about a fic idea that’s been knocking around in my head for a while but will never get written, do you?

cool

it’s a grumpy-and-sunshine-professor AU where Simon is a history professor studying the history of death and Johnny is a professor of chemistry studying pyrotechnics. They both have fierce reputations within their departments; Johnny for being a lenient grader and an excellent teacher, and Simon for being a complete hardass

They’re secretly married to each other, but no one ever takes classes with both of them, so there hasn’t ever been a student that has found out. Johnny talks about his husband constantly, never by name, but his computer background is a picture of two unmistakably masculine hands with matching rings, obviously a wedding photo, and he usually starts class with a little story about something funny that his husband did the day/night before. It’s well-known that his husband is blond, massive, and an utter sweetheart. They obviously adore each other, if the weekend date stories that he tells are any indication (always innocent, of course)

Simon, on the other hand, never talks about his personal life at all. He starts class on the dot, getting straight to the point without any fanfare or chitchat. He’s a man of few words, and he uses them well and efficiently. He wears a ring on a necklace, and it sometimes slips out of his shirt during lecture, but no one dares ask (stories are told of the one student who did, and got a glare so acidic that he had dropped the class on the spot)

Then along comes (insert OC’s name here), who is a biology student focusing on infectious diseases. Johnny is her advisor and she adores him (not in that way, she’s a lesbian and he’s obviously besotted with his husband). She had him for her introductory chemistry classes and he was the only reason she passed; she’s trusted his judgment and advice implicitly ever since. So when she asks what class she should take for her required history elective, he recommends a class called The History and Impacts of the Black Death, and it sounds right up her alley but the professor listed gives her pause. She’s heard of Dr. Riley, of course; nearly everyone on campus has heard the stories of traumatized history majors avoiding Dr. Riley’s classes (ironically) like the plague. But she trusts Dr. MacTavish, so she registers anyway.

The class is tough. In her opinion, it’s way too difficult for an elective class, especially on top of her other upper level science classes, but she hasn’t gotten this far without knowing how to step up to a challenge, and Dr. Riley’s scathing feedback on her first assignment has her digging her heels in instead of throwing in the towel. The topic is interesting; she’d never really looked into the history of infectious diseases, and the Black Death is morbidly fascinating. She struggles a bit with the historical aspects of the class at first, especially when Dr. Riley expects his students to already have a firm grasp on Medieval history and she very much does not, but she’ll never pass up an opportunity to do some external research to catch up to where the rest of the class—populated mostly by history majors—is in their studies.

Towards the end of the semester, close to the end of November, the student’s mother finds out about her girlfriend and kicks her out late at night. With nowhere else to go, she remembers that Dr. MacTavish is both openly gay and has invited groups of students to his house for club meetings and field trips. It’s a little awkward, but she doesn’t have anywhere else to go, so she walks to his house in the rain. When she knocks on the door, Dr. MacTavish answers with clear concern, and he waves her inside quickly. She explains her situation, panicking about the entire thing because she’s standing in her advisor’s house at 10pm, her parents have just cut her off, and she’s scared and wet. Dr. MacTavish calls into the other room, presumably to his husband, asking for a towel.

The last person she expects to round the corner is Dr. Riley, holding a fluffy towel and an expression equally as concerned as Dr. MacTavish’s. His husband.

She has to sit down.

They sit and talk as she dries off and warms up. Johnny makes her a cup of hot chocolate while Dr. Riley—Simon—builds a fire in the fireplace. She huddles close to it as they talk, and she eventually ekes the story out of them; how they met, how they hated each other at first, how they fell in love. Simon is talkative and animated, drawing energy from the man sitting beside him, and the student finds herself enchanted by the two of them, the side of her professors that she never gets to see. It should feel like a breach of privacy, a line crossed, but it feels like staying up late with her uncles. They make up the guest bedroom for her and all go to bed, reminded that they all have class tomorrow.

The student ends up staying with some friends, couch-surfing in their apartment until she can get her feet back under her, but she spends several nights a week at the Riley-MacTavish household, delving into the intricacies of infectious diseases and their connection to society with Simon. She enjoys the friendly arguments the two professors get into and often chooses sides arbitrarily to keep them on their toes. She switches her advisor from Johnny to Simon (Johnny pretends to be upset, but he’s secretly overjoyed that Simon is connecting so well with a student), and ends up writing a thesis paper under his tutelage.

Idk how it’s gonna end yet, maybe with a far future scene where she sees the two of them at a conference and throws herself at them, wrapping them both in massive hugs. It earns her several very odd stares, especially from those who know Dr. Riley’s reputation, but she doesn’t care. They were there for her in the darkest night of her life, and she’ll always have a soft spot for both of them

[izudeeilo]

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You can study me

Sero hanta smau

volley-ball player sero x art student fem!reader, no quirks au, college au.

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Senior year is finally here! You thought that this time, the teachers would be more lenient with you and your classmates, but not at all. In fact, they even got stricter... They assigned you a half year-long work, which would be worth 30% of your final grade. What does the work consist of, you ask? Making a complete study of the life of a student you need to pick and paint it.

But... you can't pick a friend.

Part .4 • Part .6

Part 5

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All of a sudden you see Eijirou get up and pick up his things quickly, startling you.

”Sorry I need to go right now, thanks for your help! i forgot i needed to be somewhere” he chuckles apologetically.

”It’s alright, let me at least accompany you! What’s happening today?” you ask as you pick your things and shove them into your bag before following him.

”I completely forgot we had a match in another city and the bus is leaving in 10 minutes. The others are already waiting for me” he says, speeding up his pace and you do your best to keep up.

”Oh right! Hanta told me about it. I didn't know it was today, shit you better get here quickly, you want to run?” you offer as you chuckle.

”If it doesn't bother you, sure!” he laughs and the two of you begin running in the direction of the gymnasium where the bus was parked.

You were able to get there in only three minutes thankfully. You both stop and try to catch your breath.

”We’re…here— I’m here!” Eijirou pants, hand on his chest.”I lost track of time…”

”At least you’re here now come on, get inside” the coach points to the bus with a nod of his head.

Hanta smiles and you make your way to him.

”Good luck on your match”

“I would have more luck if my lucky charm was cheering me on” Hanta replies with a grin.

“Oh yeah? Is that what I am now..” you poke his chest.

Hanta shrugged his shoulders playfully.

“Mmh” he nods. “Do you have anything better to do today?” he leans on the bus.

You sigh knowing that you did in fact have nothing else to do besides staying on campus to study or just go home. So if you had to choose, you’d rather stay with him.

”If it’s fine with your coach then yeah” you nod.

”Oh you don’t have to worry about that” he guides you inside the bus and you both sit next to each other while the others sit behind and next to you as you all enjoy the rest of the ride in a joyful atmosphere.

The whole entire time you and Hanta were glued to each other, shoulders always touching. You swore you felt his hand brush yours a few times and that made your stomach turn.

This was getting so frustrating, you didn't want to admit it out loud because if you did you would realize that these…feelings were actually true and they couldn’t be true right?

Was what you felt for him truly more than friendship, wasn’t it going to ruin everything between you two if he knew?

Hanta was just so funny and charming, he always made your day a whole lot brighter. He always knew the right words to say when you were feeling down. All the little gestures he does for and my god was he good looking…

His gorgeous brown eyes that made you weak in the knees whenever he looked at you—

“You alright?” you felt someone’s hand land on your arm, it was Hanta.

”Oh yeah yeah sorry!” you snap out of your trance looking down at your cards trying to stop the blush from rising more to your cheeks.

This was so embarrassing why did you space out in the middle of the game to think about that.

”You’ve been more lost in your thoughts than usual Y/n, is there something on your mind” Mina asks you with a knowing grin on her face.

“Nothing, nothing at all” you say almost too defensive, causing the others to look at you with a confused face before laughing.

“Suuure” Denki says putting down his card and yelling “UNO”

”Oh come on…” everyone sighs in defeat and you chuckle. You realized you really need to talk to your best friends.

When you arrived, the other team was already here and they were looking quite determined.

You sat on a bench next to Mina who said you were “assisting” her in her manager duties. The court was way bigger up close and the height of the roof was really impressive. It made everything look so much bigger.

The boys were stretching a bit further away and practicing together before the match began. There weren’t a lot of people watching since this was only a friendly match between two schools and yet you hoped the boys would win this.

As they began the first set, everything was going smoothly and at the end, they won. The second set came and was a bit more challenging and the opposite team won.

After the referee whistled for the break the coach had demanded, they came back panting, sweat forming at the back of their necks.

You hand them out their towels and bottles with an encouraging smile.

”You all are doing great, you’re going to win this”

The boys all stare at me and grin, Eijirou and Denki hugging me with one arm wrapped around my shoulder.

”Thanks y/n for cheering us on, we’ll do our best” Eijirou grins with a toothy smile. “Damn right we’re going to win this” Katsuki follows with a determined look.

“Hanta can’t lose this if you’re here” he walks past Hanta and nudges him with his shoulder which results in him glaring at Katsuki with what you thought was red creeping up his cheeks? His head was turned so you couldn’t see well.

After their coach gave them a motivational speech, another whistle echoed in the gymnasium and they all returned to the court.

The last 2 sets were getting more and more intense.

Denki was giving in his all at trying to receive the ball well for his teammates. Katsuki, who was the middle blocker, ran amazingly fast each time to reach the ball Hanta or Eijirou set for him. There were two other hitters you didn’t know but they were also doing great.

You could see through their eyes how fast they were analyzing everything that was going down in the match, from the position to the eyes. You had to watch them carefully to notice all of this, someone who was sitting too far away wouldn’t be able to.

You were happy with this opportunity the guys gave you to assist in their match today, instead you would’ve been probably in bed sleeping or doing god knows what.

They won the third set and now you weren’t even sitting on the bench anymore but were standing and screaming encouraging words with Mina. Everything was going even faster now, the ball going up and down, left and right in every direction.

Scoring point after point, the score was now at 24-22 for the guys. They only needed one more to win this.

And so came one of the most stressful moments of your life as you carefully watched the ball in the air. Almost touching the ground but Denki was here to receive it but so was the other team's libero.

This went on for what felt like hours, none of the teams wanted to lose even if it only was a friendly match which showed how passionate they truly were.

Hanta was now serving, a serious look on his face as he closed his eyes, taking a deep breath in. Everyone was focused and the whole place was quiet. You could almost hear their heart beat.

He opened his eyes, took a few steps ahead. Throwing the ball in the air, you began to see everything in slow motion.

Hanta slightly ran, crouched to gain momentum before jumping, his hand making contact with the ball as it came down.

You blinked and heard a loud thud from the other side of the court.

Nobody moved before you and Mina screamed in happiness as you both hugged each other jumping in place and everyone began loudly clapping their hands.

The boys all collide with each other as they all hug in a circle.

You continue clapping with a big smile on your face when Hanta suddenly looks up and makes eye contact with you. He runs over to you before his arms wrap themselves around your waist and lifts you up in the air as you hold onto his shoulders.

“We won!” he laughs, spinning you both around. You laugh along with him and throw your head back.

“You did, you did! You were incredible, you all were. Oh my god that match was insane” you chuckle as he puts you back on the ground.

“Thank you for coming and cheering me on hermosa” he says looking tenderly in your eyes, hands still on your waist.

”Of course Hanta.”

[ohdearlingwhathappened]

A Pair Made in the Pits

TFP Megatron x Reader

Summary: A soulmate au where near everyone has the first thing their soulmate says to them marked into their wrist. What a shame Y/n's is in some unknown language. Living with this for 7.5 years, she decides to settle down in Jasper, Nevada, not knowing that being the teacher in charge of the exchange student's overall academics and wellbeing in the school would lead her to being involved with giant robots and finding her soulmate in an unconventional method.

A/n: Sorry for the long summary! This is my first published transformers fic, so please be kind. If there are any inaccuracies, feel free to message me. I hope you enjoy my story!

WC: 2099

Chapter 1: Falling Behind Pt. 1

Chap 2, Chap 3

“Miko! Miko Nakadai!” The woman briskly walks down the hall, after the young exchange student who looked back and groaned in annoyance.

“I know. I know.” As the woman comes to a stop, Miko waves her off, “My grades need work. I need to pay attention in class. I can’t keep drawing on the desks. Can I go now?”

“Very funny, young lady-”

“You’re only ten years older than me- stop calling me that.” She crosses her arms and looks away.

“Miko, you know you were supposed to come by the office to pick up some papers for your host parents.” The woman places a hand on her hip, and raises a brow expectantly, “Any reason for you to skip out on me?”

“There’s a bike.”

“A… bike.”

“Outside!” She rolls her eyes again, throwing her arms up in exasperation. “I saw it from my last class, and I wanted to draw it. It’s gonna be gone if I go to the office and get the papers. You know the desk lady talks for, like, a million years.”

“Mrs. Albert does have a penchant for talking… tell you what- why don’t you go sit on the stairs of the school and draw that bike. I’ll grab the papers and bring them out to you. Just promise to stay on the entrance stairs. Ok?” 

The girl whoops and breaks out into a run, excited to be let off the hook of being subject to Mrs. Albert’s stories of her childhood. “Thank you, Y/n!!”

Y/n shakes her head, a soft smile on her lips as she watches after the Japanese girl then makes her way to the office, silently knowing she’ll now be listening to one of the aforementioned talks. The woman was sweet but goodness, she needs to join a bookclub, or something. 

“Ah. Y/n, dear! I thought Miko was supposed to be collecting these?” 

There, sitting behind the desk, is Mrs. Albert, smiling as brightly as the sun. Her curly gray hair frames her rounded, wrinkled face- giving her the vibe of a grandmother who is about to offer you either butterscotch or one of those little red candies wrapped in those strawberry wrappers. The older woman was just as sweet as she appeared, which made Y/n feel the slightest bit guilty when she would dread one of the long-winded stories, Mrs. Albert never fails to tell.

“Hello Mrs. Albert. I let Miko go off to draw something she saw outside. She was too excited to say no, I’m afraid.” Y/n gave an airy but clipped laugh. “I told her I would bring her the papers for her host parents.”

“You’re too easy on that girl.” Mrs. Albert teasingly chastises, “Though, I guess I can’t blame you. That girl is the first exchange student you’re in charge of, it’s no wonder you’re so lenient with her. It reminds me of how I treated my baby, Samuel. Did I ever tell you about Sammy? He was such a delightful boy. He was heartbroken when he never got his quote…” She teeters off, the solemn look now on her face doesn’t suit her. Y/n had heard this story before, but it isn’t often that it comes up, nor is it often for ‘Sammy’ to be brought up at all. Not that it isn’t understandable as to why.

Quotes- a subject Y/n always loathes hearing about. 

The thing about everyone’s quotes is that they link people to each other- your other half, according to many. Most people receive their quotes sometime at 18 years old, a few will get them younger, and even fewer never get them at all. Many times, if a person does not receive their quote, they don’t live for much longer- whether it be due to the societal pressures that they failed to meet, due to no fault of their own; or they have some kind of accident. Long story short, if you don’t get your mark by your 19th birthday, you spend the rest of that year mourning and wondering what will become of you. Not to say everyone without a quote dies, but they are a particularly rare find, that’s for sure.

On top of that source of dread, each quote comes in the native language of wherever your partner is from, so once people get their quote, they are either thrilled and/or they hit the books to understand their other half’s language. Meaning that with the gibberish printed on Y/n’s arm, she’s cursed with the unknown regarding some so-called soulmate. 

“I’m sorry, dear. I shouldn’t mention quotes. I know you don’t like talking about them.” Mrs. Albert looks at her, a level of pity swimming in those big, brown eyes behind those glasses she adorns. She pats Y/n’s hand comfortingly, looking at the long sleeves she wears, even in the midst of September in the middle of Jasper, Nevada.

“Don’t worry about it, Mrs. Albert. I’ve been living with my quote for about 7 and a half years now. I’m ok.” Y/n smiles, knowing she didn’t mean any harm. “...About those papers?”

“Oh! Oh, yes. Let me grab those for you, dear.” She jumps up and walks over to one of her filing cabinets and quickly snags one of the multiple files out and hands it over. How she keeps track of where all of those papers are is baffling, but Y/n supposes the years of practice have definitely helped. “Here you are.”

“Thank you.” Y/n keeps up her smile and nods at the older woman. “You have a great rest of your afternoon, and I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Have a good night, Y/n. And be careful- I’ve heard that those street racers have been causing more trouble recently.” She calls out as the young woman leaves the office.

“I will!”

As she closes the door to the office, the smile on Y/n’s face slowly fades and she takes a deep breath, trying to brush off the snaring emotions surrounding her quote. After another breath, the woman rights herself and begins making her way down the hall, Y/n sifting through the papers in the manila folder, ensuring all of the papers are there. Her progress report and reviews from her teachers didn’t spell out anything good even so early into the year. All subjects but art, music, and english were less than adequate.

I’m going to have to talk to her about her grades again. 

“Alright, Miko, I have your papers fo- Miko?” Exiting the front doors, Y/n looks around for her student, only to find her running off down the sidewalk. “Miko!” She takes off after her, cursing herself for not working out more. 

This girl is gonna kill me.

Miko finally stops to peek around a corner, and the woman slows to a stop and leans against her own knees, heavy breathing covering up any sounds around her. After a moment of steadying her breath, she looks to the girl on her left, irritated, “Miko, I told you to stay on-”

“Shhh!!”

“You did not just shush me, young lady.” Miko gestures to whatever is so important that she ran over for, revealing a giant robot and a boy. A very familiar boy. “Jack Darby! You get away from that thing this instant!” Y/n yells, making both the teen and robot jump and look to her and Miko’s direction. She runs up to the boy, looking him over for any possible injuries, and pulls him behind her next to Miko.

“What?! He should totally go with!” Miko looks at Y/n, who keeps her eyes on the visibly bothered robot, like she’s crazy, and argues that he should do the opposite.

“Absolutely not! We don’t know what that thing even is!”

“Scrap.” The blue robot looks to Jack and then to the other two, standing up from her previously kneeling position when she had been speaking with the teenage boy, her tone obviously exasperated, “I have to bring all of you with me.”

“Excuse me? I am not going anywhere, and neither are these children. You wanna abduct someone for whatever wacky robot thing you have going on? You leave these children out of it.” Y/n crosses her arms, looking up at the blue and pink being before her, not willing to step down- much to the distaste of said robot.

“I don’t have time for this-” The bot raised her hand to the side of her head with quite possibly one of the most bothered expressions Y/n had ever seen on a human or anything else. “Bee, you need to come back… the kid is fine, but we’ve run into a couple of issues.”

“Did you not hear me? You can’t just-”

“Oh, I heard you, but I can and I will.” Apparently done with what Y/n can only assume was some kind of phone call- that or this was not only a giant robot but a crazy one at that. “I have orders and you’re now part of those orders because you were nosy.”

“We’ll act like we never saw you, not that anyone in their right mind would believe any of us if we told them we saw a giant robot lady that wanted to- what? Take us to some government facility and lock us away because of seeing whatever kind of prototype you are?” Y/n argues back, left hand on her hip and her right pointing up at the mech accusingly, to which the mechanical woman’s jaw falls agape before screwing up, insulted.

“We weren’t made by humans, and you are wasting my time. I have better things to do rather than argue with some woman who’s putting a hitch in today’s plans.”

“Oh, well I’m so-”

A yellow Urbana 500 with black racing stripes drives up behind Miko and Y/n and revs the engine, making the woman jump and the teen whirl around, excited to see yet another possible robot. Closing her eyes and taking a deep breath, Y/n weighs her options. If she tries to take the children with her, it is possible these robots, while they may not have shown any aggressive or violent responses, it couldn’t be confirmed that they wouldn’t, if there was any opposition. The safest option was, unfortunately, to go with the kids and keep them as safe as possible. No matter how much she didn’t like this. 

“Ok… alright.” Another deep breath in and out. The kids are what’s important right now. “We’ll come with you, but these kids stay as safe as possible.”

“That was the plan.” The dead tone rings through the alleyway, continuing to irk the only other adult present, but before Y/n could say anything, the metal woman transformed into a motorcycle, having Jack move around her, reluctantly getting on and Miko enthusiastically hops on with absolutely no hesitation. “Get in Bee, and we’ll meet you back at base.”

And then they were gone, leaving Y/n frustrated and clenching her fists with the other vehicle behind her, probably another transforming thing- hopefully with less attitude. Grumbling about the behavior of not only the bot, but the reckless behavior of the children as well, she turns around and awkwardly half-smiles at the yellow and black car- all of the frustration draining out of her.

“I don’t suppose there’s a person in there whose, like, codename is Bee, is there?” The bright lights of the car flick on and off a couple of times before the right side backdoor opens, confirming her fear. Letting out a quiet groan, Y/n walks to the awkward door, hoping there is a human ‘at base’ to help explain what the hell is going on. Getting in, she looks at the empty driver’s seat, then notices hair sticking ever so slightly above the passenger seat. “Oh, thank god. Another person. What is going- How many children exactly are you lot abducting?!”

A series of beeping, whirring, and whistling is the only response Y/n receives from the car’s radio as said child shyly smiles up at her. “Hello. Bee says we aren’t being taken, but someone named Optimus needs to see us after what happened yesterday.”

A moment’s pause settles over the car before Y/n leans back in her seat, rubbing her hands across her face, the car finally beginning to move and quickly pick up speed, “What exactly happened yesterday?”

“Um…”

I would much rather be listening to one of Mrs. Albert’s stories right now.

[ladykailitha]

I am always on the hunt for my next story as I like to have four or five stories going on at the same (being able to have multiple stories going so that I always have something to post really helps with the anxiety like you wouldn't believe.)

And I think I have found my next one. With everyone doing Olympic stories I thought that I too, would throw my hat in the ring.

Back when I first started writing for Stranger Things (like September of '22 way back) I had this story I was posting on AO3 anonymously. The fear of writing for a fandom I hadn't seen the source material of left me terrified (I still worry about from time to time) had my anxiety going a billion miles an hour.

It was about Steve deciding to coach Eddie on getting on the swim team his final senior year so that teachers would be more lenient on his grades. And in return Eddie would help with Steve's trauma of having Barb die in his pool.

I ended up abandoning the work because the characters all wrong and I just started to hate it. It only had something like 34 kudos and 121 views after six chapters. It was not good.

So I am cannibalizing the plot for my next story.

Bit of an age gap. Eddie 18 and Steve is 24 when they meet but they don't get together until after the Olympics making them 20 and 26 respectively.

Steve was going to be Michael Phelps in world where he doesn't exist (shhhh) He had come in fifth his first Olympics as a fourteen year old. His next Olympics had him winning several medals, so many that the phrases "world record" and "foremost swimmer of his time" were tossed around.

But all that changed when he had an accident in his first match in his third Olympics where the bounding board slipped out from under him as he went to dive into the water, hitting his head and nearly drowning.

Leaving him with migraines and a fear of large bodies of water. So now he teaches swimming to little kids in kiddie pools and for the older ones, he uses an endless pool. But he steers clear of the main pool and if he has to use it, he has his assistant coach Robin get in the water for him. It isn't ideal but it works.

Enter Eddie Munson. Eddie who used to swim in middle school but after his mom died and his dad went to jail, he got sent to live with his uncle, Wayne. But because Wayne was working long hours at the plant Eddie was forced to give it up in high school.

Hopper caught him dealing weed and pulled to have Eddie do community service at the rec center, mopping floors, gather towels for the laundry, refilling soap dispensers.

Eddie didn't mind because it meant that he had free access to the pool any time he wanted.

One day, Steve comes in early because he's getting a new group of nuggets for his swim class when he sees Eddie doing a near flawless butterfly stroke.

They talk and Steve finds out that Eddie just didn't have the same opportunities Steve did otherwise he probably would have been in Steve's last Olympics. The next Olympics are two years away and Steve wants to train Eddie for them.

Eddie turns him down at first until on the last day of his community service and he realizes he'll lose access to the pool. So he decides to let Steve coach him because he figures he'll at least get two free years of pool time and then after he doesn't make it, Steve and him can go their separate ways.

Only not only does Eddie get into the Olympics he starts get gold in his events.

Someone plants weed on his to discredit him when they find out he used to deal with hopes of getting him disqualified but it backfires and the culprit is exposed as the one that sabotaged Steve four years ago.

Then after Eddie wins his fifth gold in his last event, Steve and Eddie kiss about it.

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for pretending to lose consciousness and using it as an excuse to drop out of school?

This happened when I was in HS but it's still eating me up. I (18F at the time) suffer from a severe case of IBS, which went undiagnosed for years. During the events of this story, I had no idea what my illness was which I suffered from ever since I was a toddler. My parents took me to several doctor, all who insisted I was perfectly healthy. Every year, the pain would get increasingly worse, and we try a different doctor every once in a while. I gave up seeking medical help during middle school because I was frustrated, the doctors believed I was faking to skip school and refused to write me notes. My parents know I don't lie, yet the doctor's words got to them. They don't exactly think I'm faking, but they think I'm exaggerating a mild stomachache because I wanted to skip school and have no will to fight. I mean, it's true that I have a low tolerance to pain, even getting my hair straightened is a painful experience for me everytime.

Anyway, since IBS tends to attack when someone feels bad, high school was the worst period in my life for numerous reasons but mainly because I was getting severely bullied. Also due to my frustration with doctors, I started believing that my illness was terminal and had yet to be discovered and I was severely depressed thinking my death was soon, which made my IBS worse. When the pain was at its worst, it felt like my belly was being stabbed from the inside by several knives, it leaves me to exhausted to get up from my bed. I always locked my room's door so my parents wouldn't try to drag me out of the bed Whenever I wanted to skip school. Despite at the constant pain I was in, never once did I lose consciousness because of it. Sometimes I wish I could faint so I wouldn't feel the pain for a short a period of time, but it never happened.

In days which pain is manageable, I try my best to go to school, I often attended 2-3 days each week. I specifically insisted on going to this school because it's lenient, unlike the school my parents tried to send me to.

However, just because the pain was manageable, it didn't mean that I was feeling fine. The constant exhaustion from the severe IBS attacks left me tired all the time and I just wanted to lay in my bed again. I spent most of my time at school resting my head on the desk and teachers got used to it, but they drew the line at me actually falling asleep in class.

It happened when I was like 4-5 months away from graduating, I just wanted to rest, I had enough of the pain that I didn't want to set afoot in school again, but my parents wouldn't let me. Eveyrone thinks I'm fine and just exaggerating, that's why, I used my perfect acting skills to drop to the floor while sitting in my chair, I heard everyone whispering about how worrying the way I fell was, that it must be something serious. Classmates kept shaking me for a minute but I didn't react because I wanted it to look real. I eventually pretended to wake up and told them that I couldn't handle it anymore. That period was my Physics final, which I didn't study for, and I didn't want to take it. I have no idea what lessons we took because I never studied or paid attention in class, I was literally at my limit.

I was allowed to rest that day, and when I went back home I told my parents about losing consciousness and that I desperately need to rest. They allowed me to drop out on the condition I go back to school the next year, I agreed, but secretly believed I would never live that long to attend school ever again.

My best friend cried really hard when I told her we wouldn't be graduating together and begged me to reconsider. I told her my illness got worse to the point I started fainting, and I desperately needed to rest.

Of course, I'm still very much alive and learned what's actually wrong with me (I literally self diagnosed myself based on people's experiences on the internet then "confronted" a doctor about it) and the IBS attacks are mild and manageable these days since I know what I need to do to avoid them, I have a full time job and rarely ever need to skip. But the guilt is making me feel like TA for worrying everyone about me and breaking my bff's heart. AITA?

What are these acronyms?

[study-diaries]

How to do group projects? (If you're selected as the leader of the group)

I hate group projects, it's not necessarily the project rather, the people are not cooperative enough so here's some tips I use when I was chosen to do a PPT and a damn play with 13 members.

(Pictures aren't mine!)

Take phone numbers

Even though my teacher discouraged the idea of it, I still took the numbers of all the members and saved it on the same day the project was given even though the deadline was a month later. You should make sure that you have the necessary means of communication to every member.

Plan and outline within 3 days!

Make an outline of what needs to be done, plan out who's going to do what, how they'll do it, when will they complete it etc etc. The reason i do it within 3 days is because you'll get the base of how you'll do it because generally in group projects, by the time everyone completes the work and gives it to you, it would take atleast a week or two, if you start early, you'll complete earlier than everyone else

No group chats!

I personally don't prefer this because one i realised everyone just didn't reply expecting others to reply, especially when your group is big! So... Dms!! Just send the instructions personally, yes, it takes alot of time but it makes up for the energy wasted in group chats that involve unnecessary talks and questions.

Both face to face and text reminders!

When you've assigned work to every member, make sure they actually do it because you'll be the one responsible. Not gonna lie but reminders help especially when the deadlines are closer. Just a message like "Hey, friendly reminder about the XYZ project."

Save your own name!

This is something I'm really careful about. The accusation that you're being biased and assigning easier work to friends and people I'm close with. So, i figured that the best way to avoid it is to write all the work and the names of members in alphabetical order and assign accordingly. If the member can't do it, then I'll discuss and swap. It saves a hell lot of drama and actually results to better outcomes.

Back up

Make sure that there's always a second in command. This was a mistake I did, on the day of the 2nd project (the play), I was in one of the competitions and our teacher had started with our group first... I didn't exactly tell anyone that everything about the characters assigned to members and the narrations were in my bag so they had to scramble alittle but in the end, our group did the best play despite the situation so that's what you're aiming at. Your group needs to manage without you.

Flexibility

Do not, under any circumstances, expect everything to go well! You need to expect hindrances, like gurl, come on. A mistake I made in the PPT project, i made the PPT and told 4-5 people to explain it because that's how it was supposed to be done but in the end, ALL THE 4-5 PEOPLE HAD TO BE IN SPORTS PRACTICE so we ended up changing plans last minute. But nevertheless, we got an A-. Tell everyone to prepare accordingly.

Be a little lenient

Personally, when the teacher asked me to give the list of work everyone had done, i did'nt just write nothing for the members who didn't, i have even the smallest contribution because in the end, even one person's scores matters. It affects the whole damn group so be careful when you take out anger and frustration on the members when giving the list of contributions or even while doing the project. The last thing you need is drama.

Contact!

Make sure your members are comfortable enough to clear any questions or misunderstandings with you. If you don't know what's going in the group, you can't maintain the group. Be very clear that they can reach you any time.

Demo!!!

This is really important! Decide on a day and keep a demonstration of how your project is going to be presented. Do exactly as how you're going to do it infront of the teacher. Exchange some points on how to do better during the demo and discuss! It helps you to correct your mistakes.

Hope this helps! :)

[ya-bug-boy]

Thank you for taking my request, i just see all the teachers like a group of parents (especially after seeing Salvatore get worried over that lil pawmi in his story) no need to rush yourself but is it okay if we can get a part 2? 💛

Paldea Teachers being called Mom/Dad by student reader!

Salvatore

This guy is definitely among the sweeter staff members.

He was giving you your test back, you got a full score! In fact the whole class did!

He's so pleased with himself that he praises everyone but then people begin to laugh when you respond back with, "Thanks Dad."

He's surprised but his heart sings a bit. He loves how cute and goofy his students are.

But then the class pulls a prank on him by everyone calling him dad in a different language.

Now look at what you did!

Dendra

She had an after school voluntary gym workout class.

This was meant for students who wanted to be physically fit but surprisingly you're the only student

but it means you get the best teacher to student gym training anyone could ask for!

During your training, Dendra is hitting you with the constant praise, affirmation, and encouragement to do your best.

After an hour, she gives you a sports drink and tells you go rest. As you're thanking her for the drink, you accidentally call her mom.

Her eyes go WIDE when she hears that, her face and ears burning. But she then lets out a hearty laugh and tells you to not expect any homemade meals unless you somehow want a burnt sandwich

Saguaro

You were a student that often never got to enjoy homecooked meals prior to coming here. You never learned how to cook prior to coming here, only really eating instant food.

Saguaro sees the potential in you to cook exemplary food so he offers to give you some easy recipes to try out in your personal room.

One day, you surprise him with misshapen cookies. The shapes aren't quite right but the flavor is great!

He compliments you to no end, taking in great pride that you are improving. He even offers to give you a great big hug!

You hug him and mumble, "thanks dad," thinking he would not hear it.

But no. He did. He cries later in private with how sweet you were.

Hassel

Hassel is known to be the most emotional teacher out of the group due to how much he cares for everyone.

He's known for making a lot of connections with the students. Some go on to become great dragon masters, artists, or just in general great trainers.

Hassel teaches not only the value of art but the value of connections and relationships you make with people, so naturally people draw towards him as a parental figure.

Openly sobs into his arms in public hearing you call him dad because of how sweet you are. Please be sure you keep in contact with this man even after you graduate because he'll be thinking of you for years.

Director Clavell

It's common to see why people love the director so much.

He's kind, courteous, lenient, and overall a great leader to have.

He cares for every student, every teacher, every pokemon.

When you call him dad, no matter whether it be by accident or intentionally, he takes in great pride in knowing you see him as family.

He does digress that though he is not your father, he is pleased and proud of you.

[tragedyofdevotion]

Petunia

Tick tock tick tock

You heard the clock ticking from somewhere. And lately you had come to like hearing it's sound.

It would probably be a grandfather clock, you imagine. Its body would have been made by some expensive hardwood you would not know the name of. And its pendulum would be in the brilliant color of gold.

You felt something akin to camaraderie to the clock you had never seen which probably stood at the end of the hallway outside your room. It was probably the only existence, living or not, which received your affection in this castle.

The reason for you liking it was as follows: Since you could hear its sound without fail while you were staying in this room which is all the time, it would not have move at all from wherever its place had been since day one.

In a way, it made the clock in a similar situation as you in that both you and the clock did not have the strength and ability to gain freedom and to move around as your heart desired.

Did thinking such foolish things mean you were finally going crazy? It was only natural that a clock did not move from its spot. It is only a thing.

Perhaps you were being thought of in the same way by the master of the castle. You must also be one of the many treasurable things he owned.

And being the dragon, he sure did like taking care of his things as well as protecting them from those filthy thieves who would surely steal them away from him.

Yes, he did protect you from outside; his anger was unforgiving as he cast his magnificent magic to your friends who tried to take you back, against your pleas to please.... PLEASE.... spare them.

That caused quite an uproar... No, an uproar would be understatement as it ended the peace that was finally attained between humans and faes.

Your friends, silly and chaotic as they were, still regarded as hope for the future being the students of the top magician school. Among them, there were also students who were particular excellent at their respective subject.

And, being princes or rich kids or influential people in one way or the other, they tried to take their prefect back using any mean necessary. Your teachers, unable to look away from their student's abuse towards their self proclaimed adopted child, also participated with your friends' mission.

One thing led to the other, and there came a war which was torn between the faes and all other species not faes, which included merman and human and beastman and all others.

You can't fathom why NRC was called a villain school when the students and teachers there could risk everything thing to save a single friend of theirs. Or maybe their willingness to risk everything for someone they hold dear was a sin. But if that was so, you would take the punishment for them since they were pushed to the extreme because of you.

However, een though they had the determination that could even rival the toughest of diamond, their strength was nothing that could ever hope to compare to the faes nor Malleus himself, which was why they failed... and they failed miserably.

And the dragon, the steadfast and devoted as he was, did not have the merciful heart to be lenient to the thieves.

That day, you cried. Not only that day but also the next day and next week and next month and next... and next... and next... and next.... You cried.

You thought that you were going crazy from the agony burning within your heart. But it is only natural since you had lost everything... everyone you knew and loved in this world.

Except for the fae and his companions, of course.

And yes, he did take care of you; his touch was feather-like as his fingers move across your cheeks to wipe away the tears he himself has caused.

But it was a shame for him that your hatred was not so insignificant for you to become delusional and dependent.

And it is a shame for you that your hatred is not so useful for you to take revenge from him when the difference in strength is like the heaven and earth.

But then again, it was already as clear as day that you can't ever hope to damage him, not when none of your brilliant friends managed to do so.

Knock-knock

The sound rang from the door.

You ignored it, knowing that the door would open regardless. And as your prediction, it did open.

"My dearest, how have you been doing? I heard from Sebek that you would not be having today's breakfast. So, I got worried and came."

You ignored him again for it took too much energy to speak to someone, especially your kidnapper.

He also ignored your lack of response to take your hand in his and sit down next to you on the couch, which sunk lower due to the additional weight of the person.

"You have to take theee meals a day properly or it will damage your health," the man said as he looked into your face which was looking down the patterns on the carpet.

"Don't worry, I am not planning to starve myself to death. I know it won't work now that I have been changed into a monster like you."

No matter, how much you wished, starvation won't grant you the merciful death anymore.

Yes, you have changed... you have been changed... into a fae, an all mighty species which ruled over all other species after the war. You did not know what he did or how he did it, you heard piece and piece from his aide vampire that it was a forbidden procedure even among the faes and you should be grateful for the dragon's kindness to risk it for you. And you replied, to hell with that.

"I am not going on a hunger strike, I just don't have an appetite. So, don't try to force anything down my throat like before. I will puke everything back," you added, remembering the past experiences.

"I understand. But... My queen, please make sure to eat your lunch. I am worried about you."

You were getting annoyed at his useless chattering so you said, "Stop with the prelude. Do what you have to do."

You lived in the upper most room in the highest tower which was located in the left wing of the castle. The tower was totally isolated from all other attendence except from Malleus himself, his most trusted aide, Lillia, and a very professionalist middle age maid who have never spoken a word to you but reported every single detail of your life to Sebek who then reported back to Malleus.

It seemed that it was quite inconvenient for your kidnapper to come and go from his official quarters to your room every day. So, he worked at the right wing for some days (usually takes for one to two weeks). And once his work has calmed a little, he come back to this tower and stay shut in for a few days (usually around 3 to 4 days), doing nothing but sleeping with you.

When he was done with you, you were left bruised and broken, wondering how great it will be if you were to drift into unconscious world of dreams and never wake up again.

Even though your title was that of a queen, with chains from your leg and locks on the door, you felt like it would be more accurate to call you a slave, a sex slave, kept there for your master to use as he please.

You found him so repulsive and it made you feel disgusted with yourself to be touched by him. In the days after he left, you washed yourself with whatever soap you could find to rinse your body off his presence until your skin was all dry and red and the maid had to drag you out from the bathroom.

Your wondering was brought back to present by the man beside you.

"Today... I did not come here to...," he stopped. Probably because he is reluctant to say "to fuck you."

You snorted with laughter in your mind, the contradictory that he was not reluctant to fuck you but was reluctant to say the word seemed so comical.

"I have a present for you." He said and commanded, "come in," probably to the maid standing outside the room.

The maid came in with a small cage in her hand. She then opened the cage and from there, came out a small cat, its fur of the color white and its eyes of the color blue.

"I wanted to give you a present for our 100 years anniversary. I discussed with Lillia and he suggested that it would be a great idea to give you a pet to take care of. It will soothe your loneliness for when I am not able to come here."

Ah, so it has been 100 years since you have been confined here. You have given up on counting days so you didn't realize. It would also mean that your friends died around 99 years ago.

"Malleus," you called his name for the first time in a long time, and asked, "Do you really think that I would be happy confining a living being's life in this room when I myself am also in the same situation?"

That was not sarcasm like usual, it was a genuine question because you really did not understand what he was thinking.

"And is there any grantee that you would not erase the cat when I spent too much time taking care of it? And even if you did not, did you seriously think I would suddenly become so cheerful and jolly just because of a single cat? And most important of all, did you think I would miss you when you are not here? Are you that delusional? The most it would do is remind me of Grim due to its blue eyes and make me hate you more if that is even possible."

You sighed to keep stop yourself from pouncing at him and stabbing his eye with your hair pin because it would not be effective to him.

"Just take it away. And I never want to see it again. And remember, no matter what you do or how much time has passed, I will never forget what you did not I will never ever forgive you."

[cliickermiller]

Could I request a Joelxreader where the reader moves to Jackson and is super sweet and loves to bake things for everyone in town as a thank you for allowing her in and at first Joel rejects their offerings because they’re suspicious of them which makes the reader continue to try and bake things for him, finally he accepts and starts opening up to them and offering to help reader with any labor they need done which leads to them sharing a kiss and maybe starting a relationship

mean spirits and bread cakes - Joel Miller x Reader

A/n: Woohoo first request, I was a little hesitant at first because I want to make sure my requests are written like my stories, with feeling and detail and I hope I accomplished that by the end of this story so just let me know how i did :)

Whenever you were brought into Jackson you were met with guns in your face, mainly by two men but one of them was a lot more lenient with you staying there, You believed that his name was Tommy, he welcomed you after the initial questions and tests and set you up with you own little room, it wasn't big or much but he said it was temporary until another unit opened up. For now you made due, using your time mainly in the kitchen helping the others prep meals for the town and other things, once Tommy helped move you into your new home, which just needed repaired, you quickly made to work making a little farming area outside.

It had been a couple weeks since you finally got your own home, you hadn't really baked since you moved in, trying to help the others out as much as you could, while still maintaining your food source in your backyard. Over the weeks you had met somebody named Joel, who you learned was the other man holding the gun in your face. He was closed off, at least to you, you always say him talking with Tommy and laughing with a teenage girl who you assumed was his daughter. You learned later that her name was Ellie, she was sweet and always came over first thing in the morning to help you bake for the other residents of Jackson, props she didn't really help baking but she watched you and learned how to do it while keeping you company and being a taste tester for you different treats.

"Y/nnnn! What're we bakin today?" Ellie cheered walking into your kitchen smiling brightly "We are making a strawberry bread cake with freshly grown ingredients and I finally made the perfect flour substitute so now maybe your grump of a father will accept them" You proudly stated smiling at the girl, watching as she giggled loudly "Joel is-.." She stopped, what was Joel to her? A father? A father figure? or just some guy who takes care of her? "Yea..yea Joel is a tough cookie to crack" She smiled using your phrasing from the other day "Alright, now, let's get started on mixing dry ingredients, I wanna make sure all these cakes are done by the time the patrols get back" You smiled watching as she took her usual seat on the counter next to your sink to watch you bake. You house was nice, you could tell whoever built it and the other houses knew what they were doing, you never thought you'd live with water or electric again but whenever you found Jackson that was the first thing you noticed.

After almost six hours of baking you were done, you liked doing it though, it gave you time to talk with Ellie, the first child you spoke with since the fall, and considering you were a middle school teacher it pained you seeing all the kids that turned infected; plus it helped feed the community, you weren't taking out of their found resources either, you grew it all and happily contributed it throughout the town, it was the only real way you knew how to pay them back for letting you stay, there weren't many kids, you weren't physically capable of going and fighting clickers like the others, so you stuck with helping them build/setup new cabins and cook little treats for everybody. Ellie filled the time with telling you the story of how she met Joel and how she wishes he was actually her father, how she always longed to have an adult go out their way to protect her, so she didn't have to learn at such a young age. You felt bad for her, Ellie was a sweet but stubborn girl, she reminded you of your younger sister. "Well....I'm happy you've made to here, Ellie, And I'm glad through your journey you found somebody like Joel..He sounds like an amazing man" You smiled placing the small cakes into separate containers, Deep down you know Joel had to of had someone before Ellie that he cared about that much, considering this was the first group of men you found that weren't ravaging assholes and that fact he went across the country and only kept Ellie's best interest in mind really showed his true colors.

Ellie shrugged a bit shoving some containers into her bookbag ready to help you pass them out, "I guess I kinda owe it to him? He helped me get this far I probably would've died by now" She mumbled, you offered her a kind smile wrapping an arm around hers to lead her outside to start your rounds. It probably took another hour to hand them out and you and Ellie still have 4 more containers together to pass out, splitting down the main road you stopped at the house you knew would be a problem, you didn't know why you still tried giving things to Joel, he always declined and acted like you were carrying the next world ruining virus and were ready to kill all. Looking up on the porch you saw him sitting in a rocking chair with his guitar propped on his lap "Hi.." You mumbled slowly stepping up on the porch "What're you doing here, y/n?" He grumbled, you frowned "I uh..-um.." You were stuttering, after hearing Ellie's stories about him you felt nervous under his watch, flustered. "Spit it out. I gotta start lookin for Ellie soon" He huffed sitting up straighter "Oh! E-Ellie she helped out today again..I wanted to drop off a strawberry- uh- bread cake" You stuttered watching him furrow his eyebrows "Don't you know flower started this entire damn mess?" He snapped standing up "N-No! I uh, I've been finding other things, not containing wheat t-to make a substitute for the flour.." You rambled, a little worried by the tone and body language, He looked around, catching eye of Ellie talking to Tommy stealing a piece from his food container and walking towards the cabin. "I don't want it" He huffed before going back inside, leaving you on the porch alone, you huffed, not letting his mean spirit get you down to happily pranced to Ellie "I'll see you later alright, hun? You need anything you know where to find me"

You woke up the next morning to Ellie pounding on your bedroom door, what the fuck? Getting up in a rush you swung the door open looking at her "You weren't awake whenever I knocked on the door and I got worried you left in the night a-and when the door was locked I-I thought you got infected or died" She rambled before hugging you tightly, you hugged her back tired and confused, the moment that really woke you up was Joel standing in your hallway peeking through the doorway "S-Sorry..Whenever you didn't answer I got Joel..." she whispered "N-no hun that's okay, no reason to be sorry, you were worried" You said rubbing her back before pulling away wrapping the blanket you had around your body before leading them both back out to your living room. "Ellie...you gotta help Maria today..better get on that" Joel said lowly, motioning her out of the cabin before closing your door sighing. "She cares about you" He said finally, turning around to look at you, you still had horriendous bed head and you looked like you just climbed out from under a rock (In your defense it was the best sleep you've ever had)

"I care about her..She's a sweet girl..one of the only people left her age that actually care about what's left in humanity" You whispered calmly going to the kitchen to get a bottle of water "She's cared about a lot of people..most em have died..so..whenever she cares about...un-infected she cares alot" Joel said, you nodded understanding what he was saying "I've noticed..I've seen kids deal with loss and grief...most grow resentment towards others..-" Joel cut you off "-But she's different" You agreed with him picking at your covers "Tried that..damn..strawberry? what the fuck did you call it?" He asked running a hand over his facial scruff "Strawberry bread cake" You whispered trying not to crack a smile, he sat down on the edge of your coffee table sighing "it was good..real good..Was kickin myself most of the night for not trying it sooner" He chuckled embarrassed rubbing the back of his neck "Ellie made you try it didn't she?" You chuckled watching him huff "Damnit she's right you can read people like a damn book" He grumbled before readjusting his sitting position "If..If you keep bringin them little cakes and other things over..I'll be happy to take em..." He smiled softly, You smiled back at him, maybe all Joel needed was an okay from Ellie to be friendly "Mmm..I dunno..I might need compensation now" You teased playfully, Joel laughed shaking his head a bit "How bout this..whenever I'm not on patrols..any hard labor you need done..I'm there" He offered, you smiled nodding "Sounds like a pretty good deal to me" you smiled softly, he smiled looking at you "Ellie..told me about how you guys met..and how you saved her..gotta admit Joel..You are one hell of a man" You smiled softly, he coughed a bit looking down now flustered, you giggled a bit resting a hand on his knee "I'm serious..alot of other men...sadly probably wouldn't of ever left your old QZ with her..you a good man" You whispered, nudging his knee a bit with your hand.

That night would start a landfill of good nights with Joel and Ellie, leading you to one night imparticular. You were standing on Joel's porch, waiting for him to answer the door "Hellooo?" You called sighing softly, almost then the door opened and there stood Joel in a towel with wet hair, panting like he rushed to the door "S-Sorry I can come back another time" You whispered nervously, he ran a hand through his hair "N-No just got a bit worried thinking something bad happened" He said smiling at you in relief "N-No I was gonna see if you were still coming over?...That broken window is bringing in a cold chill" You whispered nervously "oh! oh yea of course, let me...get dressed, come in" He said pulling you inside of his cabin gently before disappearing into his bedroom. You wandered, peeking into his kitchen "Mr. Miller! are you getting a second helping from me after Ellie gives you one?" You called seeing the extra containers in his sink "Totally not! I'm a good man remember?" He asked as he walked out, now dressed with his hair now maintained and under control. "Mmm You can be a good man and still be taking extras" You giggled as he walked closer to you standing by the sink, You didn't realize till now how close the two of you actually were until then, you could feel his breath on your face, not that you were complaining, somehow the man still had minty smelling breath in the end of mankind. "You gonna charge me extra for it?" He asked raising an eyebrow, you looked at him tightening your lips into a pursed line before resting a hand on his shoulder "Maybe...or maybe we could work out a deal?" You teased, trying to keep an upset face, Joel gasped playfully before chuckling "Gonna charge me extra? My little girl is the one who helps pass em out" He laughed leaning closer to you "Oh! So you're taking Ellie's serving" You teased giggling louder, he placed his hands on your waist, causing both of your giggles and chuckles subdue leaving you looking at each other. Joel couldn't help it, After losing Sara's mom, he was convinced he'd never meet anybody as amazing as her, as sweet or kind and yet here you were, and you were breathtaking.

"Joel.." Your voice pulled him out of his thoughts, he cleared his throat placing a hand on your cheek before kissing you, if it were anybody else you would've pulled away, knocked the dude the hell out for kissing you, but instead you kissed him back, running your hands through his damp hair, he moved his hands back down to your waist picking you up and putting you up on the counter. "How bout..you..start usin my kitchen..give me a chance to see ya everyday" He panted looking at you "Then we don't gotta do the walkin to each others houses and knockin" He continued as you pecked his lips gently "Are you asking me to move in with you sir?" you teased smiling resting your hands on his shoulder "Maybe I am.." He whispered, both of you jumped as the door slammed and Ellie cheered loudly "FUCKING FINALLY!" She yelled jumping up and down in excitement towards her bedroom.

---

soooo how'd i do?

[aconflagrationofmyown]

“Just a Mother”

a Sarge & lil Mama blurb || circa 1957

Summary: just adding some back story and motivations to Elaine’s side of the story presented in The Beginning.

Warnings: None really, except for talk of 1950’s gender roles, throw away line of masturbation and motherhood

“Is that all?” was the most common question asked Elaine after she first piped up in class and said she wanted to be a mother when she grew up.

A twelve years old girl, born with the luxury of living in the progressive halfway mark of the 20th century, belonging to a prosperous middle class and raised by lenient and liberal parents ought to have more ambition. Or so her impossibly cool, east coast imported, die hard beatnik geometry teacher chided her lovingly.

“A teacher then?” Little Elaine had fudged, meaning in her heart of hearts she wanted to raise little people, she wanted to make a difference with another generation, she wanted to be loved and depended on.

And why shouldn’t she? Her mother seemed happy enough being a mother. Her mother only seemed fretful when it came to father’s business. Juggling work and home life was the only cause of strife Elaine could perceive between the two, and it ingrained the notion in her little mind that keeping it separate was the key to domestic tranquility. Children, an only child like herself or a dozen taken in by the neighbor, never seemed to be the cause of any true regret between a couple.

“Oh darling, that takes money.” is what mother said when Elaine told her that she wanted a bunch of kids. “And a lot of effort and patience, which you may have but -it takes money, too.”

The white-picket-fence-American-dream could only afford two or three little ones and a new car every five years, it would seem. Elaine would rather forgo the new car and have another child, she told her mother.

Those squabbles over money and the business that Elaine witnessed between her parents ceased altogether when Elvis Presley’s infamous yawling stuck gold on the national charts. She watched then as her parents put their feet up and joked around the family dinner table that maybe they should have given Elaine that longed for sibling, a little bother or a sister. If they’d only known college tuitions would be paid for by a rockabilly record.

That’s when Elaine decided she’d need to marry a wealthy man. Or perhaps father would give her an inheritance early, a dowry of sorts. The first Rock n Roll heiress in America. Mother had warned her that their new wealth would attract no good boys who wanted her money without sticking around after to do right by her.

“Is that still all you want, darling?” Mother had asked when Elaine hit eighteen, right before God took her. “You’ve the opportunity to do so much more.”

“Miss Gladys says it’s the most important job of all.” Elaine had insisted, wounded that her own ambitions should be always so belittled.

“Well, I'd be careful of what you adopt from Miss Gladys.” her mother had warned, a funny look in her eyes, “I’ve a feeling she has ulterior motives for directing your interests that way. You should get out before you settle down, see the world, try other vocations out.”

That had worked for awhile. First Elaine had helped in the studio and then in the hospital and then she had studied hard to become a teacher, forever gravitating towards being useful, being needed, towards nurturing others. For her it was only ever that, that was all of it, that was enough.

Ambition and experience, that’s what everyone encouraged her to seek after mother’s death. The middle aged women, those who had chafed under their own domestic responsibilities and been too late to taste the freedom Elaine longed to squander were particularly insistent. Ambition and experience. Those were things that Elaine had plenty of time to indulge before marrying and being chained to highchairs and the marital bed.

Perhaps too much time, Elaine had begun to think. She was antsy, floating around in her dead mother’s circle, working herself to the bone to forget her loneliness and making little found families with any who’d let her dote on them.

No one to call her own beside her father who’s booming business needed her less and less. He needed her in his grief, but that didn’t mean he accepted her help.

Gone only a few months she had already begun to miss Elvis, and to resent his imposed law of abstinence while he was away. She wanted to marry, she wanted a man to give her children, she wanted to have a life to call her own at long last -she didn’t trust anyone to vet her prospective husbands save for Elvis. And the cycle would begin again. She cursed him in her head, and took to watching men as they swam in the public pools, distracted by muscled backs and furred legs as she taught Mrs. Davie’s children how to swim. She wanted a man, she didn’t know what for but she wanted one.

Elvis had woken her up to that sudden ambition, and she sought it with the single minded drive she put into logistics for the March of Dimes functions. She watched the way these men talked and walked and carried themselves, the ones who curled in on themselves and the ones who swaggered. The ones who whistled at her and the ones who opened doors.

What she had initially thought cruel and lewd teasing on Elvis’ part that night in the kitchen she grew to realize was him merely looking out for her welfare. He wanted her to taste the danger of attraction just enough that she’d know what to guard against. Though every passing day made that harder, charming waiters and slick doctors and grabby handed father’s of children she nannied all sparked an interest in her that had been dulled before.

There was curiosity in her as to what they wanted from her. She knew what she wanted -children, but what did they want? She would have to ask Elvis. She would have to wait for him to get back from a two year deployment and boot camp besides.

Alone in her room at nights, surrounded by text books and mother’s diaries, Elaine wasn’t sure she could hold out that long. She had heard that when God planted a child in a woman’s womb it came out from between her legs. More and more she found herself blindly and ignorantly touching that little baby house, finding it weepy and throbbing, as if as heartsick as the rest of her at the waste of her young and empty body.

Once she tried to put a finger up there as she’d heard doctors did in labor. It pinched and stung and she pulled it out hurriedly, her heart pounding and cheeks hot.

That was another warning all the women had -that children hurt. Making them and bringing them forth. Elaine knew nothing about what went into making them, though she could see that growing them stretched and tore women’s skin to accommodate the new life. Still, like an arduous adventure or a perilous quest it all seemed rather glorious to her, thrilling even, to be growing something that would outlast you.

“Just a mother? You don’t want to be anything else?” her Humanities teacher asked her, senior year of high school. An idiotic question, as if being a mother meant she couldn’t be anything else while at it. But that Humanities class did teach Elaine one thing: men must always strive to build and create a legacy, forever pressed to leave some creation behind with their likeness imprinted on it.

Women can make such a thing in nine months and from it can come millions of copies, millions of descendants. Her lack of ambition to conquer Wall Street seemed to suddenly click sitting there listening to a man drone on about the lasting impact of crumbling ruins.

They’ll never manage what we can, she realized, they can’t create a living thing like we can, they can only shape stone and clay and call it wondrous, while we can fashion blood and bone and cartilage and birth a soul.

It made sense that through the centuries men would define motherhood as “just” that. It was too threatening a thing otherwise, and a millennium of the scorn had infected the women, too, until the miracle of children was cut down to size, to something a little less holy, a little less impressive, little more than drudgery. Why, darling, don’t you know you can go out and work for another man who is not your husband these days? You can push that man’s papers about and endure his groping, come home and endure it from another, too. Who has energy to be a mother after that?

Yes, Elaine would settle for being just a mama. If Elvis would just come back already and help her choose a daddy.

Yes, Elaine would settle for being just a mama. If Elvis would just come back already and help her choose a daddy.

[imagineanime2022]

Just Like Our School Days

Franken Stein X Reader

Word Count: 796

You had always been a timid person, you never really made yourself the center of attention, you never wanted people to be looking at you, you just wanted to get through school and move on with your life. Some would think it was funny but you never made it out of the school building you were now a teacher, you helped many children since you started teaching but you still as you did in childhood kept yourself to yourself.

Over the years there were a few kids that stuck in your head but there was one that always sought you out, Black Star, he tested all of his ninja moves on you and you were happy to give poor Tsubaki a break. People were often reminded of why you were such a feared and respected meister whenever they saw Black Star make a move, you easily dodged or blocked an attack most of the time you weren’t even looking in the direction that had come from. Before long Maka came seeking your advice on battle techniques and you were more than happy to help her and Soul. You were happy in the life that you had, while your soul itself molded well with any other soul that it came into contact with, you became the place holder for most weapons when training until they found their ideal meister.

You enjoyed the way that your life was working out but it was about to change drastically because of one new teacher Frankien Stein. You had known him when you were in school and he played with you then, teased you because you were too timid to fight back. This had changed since then but the sight of the man still elicited the same feeling because when it all came down to it the problem was that you thought he was attractive and apparently that hadn’t changed.

You were sitting in your office marking work and your door opened, you glanced up and saw Stein was standing there “I was told that you were working here but I thought you wanted to get out of here the first chance you got.” He said as he walked around the office. “Turns out teaching was the way to go.” You mumbled as you moved to the next paper. “Mm.” He hummed as he walked around the back of the desk, you tried to ignore the imposing presence but that only lasted so long. “Do you need something?” You asked. “You're more talkative than when you were younger.” He smirked as he leaned over your shoulder. “You're being too lenient, they only have half the explanation there.” “Will you go and find someone else to bother?” You asked. “That would be no fun.” He said as he leaned closer to your ear. “Do you not have a job to do?” You asked. “That’s why I’m here actually, I need your help for my next demonstration.” “Why is that?” You mumbled. “I hear you are the best meister around and you used to be able to hold your own against me and my soul wavelength.” His hands caging you in on either side of the desk, his chest almost touching your back. “When?” You asked. “Tomorrow morning.” He answered. “Fine. Now will you leave?” You asked. “Of course Chameleon.” He smiled as he walked out of the office leaving you with the memory of the first time that he had called you that.

You had been sitting in the back of the class hoping that no one noticed you, you never needed a weapon to keep up but people still teased you sometimes, you were writing notes “What are you doing up in the back?” You glanced up at Stein, the kid that everyone was afraid of, he was dangerous in more ways than one but you were able to withstand his most dangerous attack and steal his weapon so he was very intrigued by you. “Staying out of everyone else's way.” You answered as you continued to write your notes, eye down on the table and voice small. “You know you're supposed to leave the classroom at lunch, little chameleon.” He teased as your eyes shifted to him for a second, you wanted to ask about the nickname but you couldn’t bring yourself to open your mouth. “You're cute when your speechless.” “W-what?” You asked. “You’ll be on my table one day…” He smirked as he looked down at you “one way or another.”

You never found out what he meant by that sentence, you weren’t even sure he’d remember that he said it but now that you have to work with him and he didn’t seem to have changed, maybe you’d found out what he meant all those years ago.

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