#also. my english teacher seems like. upset with us and it fucked with my head

[sab3rto0thed]

my senior year english teacher served in the united states military. when we were reading a story about war, he told us that when you’re young, you don’t really believe in death. you know it’s there and you’re aware that it exists, but it seems very far off. you’re young and you can’t be touched. you have your whole life ahead of you, stretching so far that you can’t fucking see it, like how the horizon fades. the earth is too damn big, just like your future.

my senior year english teacher was also a hardass, and he never had anything good to say about us until the day of our graduation. our class had elected that he be the one to give our speech, and his voice broke a little when he did. two days earlier, he had signed my yearbook with “i’m proud of the young lady you have become.” this was the highest compliment coming from someone who never really complimented anyone.

in 2020, when covid got really bad, my grandma on my dad’s side died. i had met her maybe twice in my life and neither of those times were recent. i can’t remember if i cried but i do remember that something shifted that day. not permanently, but for a week, maybe, i was skirting around the edge of it, trying to figure it out. i did not miss her absence. it did not hit me like a truck. it was just this: one day, she existed and one day she did not. she was just an idea either way, and i was more upset that my dad was upset than anything else.

i grieved a million different things in 2020, and maybe one of them, very briefly, was my dead grandmother that i had met twice. it was less about grieving her and more about grieving the relationship i would never get to have. i was not broken and it did not hurt that badly. i have had a million other things that have hurt more. i have grieved friendships and past versions of myself and memories. i thought i was familiar with grief, because i have been living in a version of it for most of my teenage years.

i have grieved many things. teachers leaving, friendships broken apart, loss and loss and loss. none of it was death. a lot of it was pity for the girl i had been and the girl i had been forced to become. i grieved for the mother that would never be what i wanted and the father that would never be a father. i really thought i was intimate with grief.

my dog died on a thursday. it actually wasn’t even specifically my dog, it was my grandma’s dog that had become the family dog since she moved in. the dog was called hershey. she was obnoxious and hard-won and bossy and often my family hated her. often she annoyed me but i think deep down i did love her in the way that i always get too attached to animals. i hated dogs for the majority of the time that we had her but i had a soft spot for her. we called her hershey kisses, after the candy, though we never gave her chocolate.

she was an awful dog. as a puppy, she was an absolute monster, full of boundless energy. as she got older, she was still loud. whenever you went downstairs to talk to grandma, her dog would bark at you. she would pick up plastic containers and crunch them right in your face until you played with her. she would cry for hours until you pet her. she was love-starved, as my grandma described it. none of us loved her enough.

she would get trash from the trash can and spread it around the living room when my mom wasn’t home. this irritated my mother so much that she had to get a new trash can. once, when we got a loaf of bread and left it out on the counter, hershey ripped through the plastic and ate the whole loaf. she really was an awful dog.

a few years ago, i promised myself i would try harder with hershey. i mostly avoided her when i could because i hated dogs and she was loud and obnoxious and hard-won, of course; but she was getting older and i knew that i would feel incredibly guilty if she died and i had not given her my love. so i did. i started making visits, patting her on the head whenever i saw her, scratching behind her ears and giving her treats. it made me happy to see her happy.

she tore her leg in january. we were playing ball, and i have never been able to shake the feeling that it was my fault. i have always been a selfish creature and i went out to the dog park not just because hershey needed to get some energy out, but because my grandma would buy me something if i did. i always had dual reasons when it came to my family. it was how i survived.

after that, my mother and my brother and my father all said: put her down. she was an old dog. the fur around her mouth was all gray. we checked her leg out, but there was no way to fix it except for an expensive surgery that might kill her anyway. she was a big dog, a mixed chocolate lab and red-bone hound, as my grandma liked to brag. but those kind of surgeries don’t work on big dogs. it might’ve made her worse.

up until this point, i had fought for hershey as i fought for everything else that i wanted: quietly. i treaded the stairs with careful feet and scratched behind her ears when no one was looking. it was always a fight with me, and it was impossible to explain to an outsider. but i listened to my mother and my father and my brother as they said, it’s time to put her down.

i talked to my grandma about it. my grandma often hated her dog but deep down they were best friends. we agreed: we would do what we could for hershey. it wasn’t time for her to die. not yet.

those last few months were the closest i got to her. i would take her on walks after school, and she would have fun at first but her leg would hurt and i would coax her the rest of the way. there were dips in improvement. some days she would be able to walk up the stairs on her own and some days she would throw up because of how much pain she was in. there was never a win, but i guess that’s how it is with sickness.

i really didn’t even think i liked her that much. i hated dogs because they were loud and big and hard-won, and hershey embodied all of those traits. but we became friends, her and i. i would always get her fresh water if she was out, with extra ice. i would always take her out when no one else would. we would race down the sidewalk back to the house, because even though she was an old dog with an injured leg, she still had so much energy. she loved to run, even if it was just for a little while.

i didn’t think i would care that much if she died. in my head, i was always desensitized to everything. i was just like the dog, in a way: loud and hard-won and bossy. that’s probably why we became friends. she was a crazy fucking dog, too. she would dart out into the street in front of cars and i’d have to pull on her collar to bring her back, because she always wanted to be holding her damn leash.

on thursday morning, when i went downstairs to take her out before work, she did not stand. when i finally coaxed her outside, she just looked at me, mouth hanging limply over the leash when i offered it to her. it was hopeless but i didn’t accept it. this was just another dip in her progress. she was an old dog and she was injured but i had been fighting for so long for her, and death couldn’t touch anything around me.

after work, my grandma came upstairs in tears. she had booked an appointment but it was too far away, and so while my mom looked online for someone that would take her sooner, i went downstairs. hershey was laying on the floor, but her eyes followed me as they always had. i crouched by her and held her paw in my hand, scratched her behind the ears like i always did. i told her she was a good girl, the very best.

i drove. it was twenty minutes away. logically, i knew it was over. my father and my grandmother had had to physically lift her into the car. she wasn’t eating or drinking. but in my head i couldn’t accept it. death couldn’t touch me.

when we got there, i thought it was just an appointment. things happened too fast. i couldn’t watch. my last memory of her is scratching her head, my body flinching to go, and calling her a good girl. the very best. she watched me with those big green eyes, trusting till the last. we were best friends.

i waited outside while my mother and grandma soothed her inside. i was a coward. the day was beautiful, the grass sharp, the sun making a halo of the sky. i sat next to a tree while bugs gnawed away at me. i could not quite believe it was happening.

i did not believe it when my grandma and mother returned to me twenty minutes later. i actually didn’t believe it until we were halfway home and i started crying. it wasn’t even real crying. i just felt tears on my face. i kept driving. in my head, there was no way she was gone.

i didn’t cry for the rest of the night. i was exhausted and careworn. when i woke the next day, i was a blank slate until i broke. i bawled. everything was so empty without her. i hadn’t realized how important she had been to me until she wasn’t there. her leash and collar hung on a peg in the garage, a silent tribute. there was still a pile of her fur in my grandma’s living room. in the backyard, there was the chewed-up hedgedog toy she had loved.

she was a good girl, the very best. if she were still here, i would hug her like i used to. i would scratch behind her ears until i fell asleep. she deserved more. she deserved the very best.

grief is a funny thing, but especially where death is concerned. the morning she died, i woke up and i was untouchable. the night she died, the world had shifted. there is a version of me before she died and a version of me after she died. i have two cats and i feel a little hollow petting them now. i don’t know what to do with all of this love i still have for her. it’s over, you know? it’s just over, flat. there one day, gone the next. there’s no preparing for it.

she was a good dog, though. the very best. i hope that she at least knew that.

#prose #poetry #writing #poem #tw animal death #grief

[jaytmann2]

How I discovered sex True story part 53.

Fast forward 3 weeks and School started for the year. I was delighted to see I had Mr Phellps for maths again that semester. We had home room in the morning before classes started and my teacher called me over. She introduced me to this new guy Daniel and introduced us and explained to Daniel that I was new last year and hadn't been at the school that long so it might help having me show him round. Obviously my teacher knew I hadn't made many friends and might have been trying to help.

Daniel was short too, not as short as me but still short. About my build, short black hair, well dressed and like me had a slightly more feminine look compared to the local boys around here. Daniel was fucking gorgeous for a boy. He might have been the first boy I ever met that I actually looked at his attractiveness the same way I'd look at a girl. He was real cute. Like me his voice was a little softer and less blokey. We chatted and Ms Swanson had put Daniel in all the same classes as me so showing him around would be easy. We had English first up and Ms Swanson was our teacher as well as our homeroom teacher and she said why don't we take the class off to show Daniel around. We dumped our bags in our lockers and walked around and started chatting. I found out that he also came from Victoria and his old town was only 30mins from where I used to live. We hit it off straight away. He was funny, sarcastic and quick like me. The day went so fast. For the first time I was excited for school the next day.

I was in a great mood that night. I hung out with mum and Emma, helped out with Sarah till I decided to shower and went to bed.

Mum knew how much I hated the horrible school pants and got me a nice pair of Black Levi jeans instead and had prewashed them too. I excitedly put them on and dam they were a great fit. I decided going commando at school was a bad idea so I had underwear on my white school polo shirt on and my dark blue school jumper and my black Nike air max on........I looked fucking good if I may say, even mum and Emma said I looked great as I headed off to school.

When I got there, Daniel was waiting by my locker he too had black jeans on and looked GOOD! I noticed him eye me as we said hi and got our books and headed to homeroom and Ms Swanson seemed really happy to see us getting on so well. My other friends liked him and vice versa but Daniel and I really seemed to click.

At lunchtime he asked if I'd call him Danny from now on. We chatted with our group and after lunch we had maths. Mr Phellps seemed to avoid me but I didn't care. Danny and I were like two peas, it was scary how much we clicked. Danny said its like we were brought together for a reason.

Days passed and I was finally happy again for the first time in ages. We were chatting when we realised he knew my cousin Robby. Danny's mood seemed to change a little after that! I asked what was wrong and he seemed really reluctant to say. I asked what I'd done wrong clearly visibly upset and scared I was going to loose my new friend.

He asked if we could go somewhere quiet so we went to the library and sat by a table at the far end. We sat there and I asked again what I did? He said "you've done nothing wrong Jay it's just......" and stopped. He looked upset and scared now. I begged to know what's up. He said "if I tell you, do you promise not to ditch me and tell everyone?" I said "no way" he lent to my ear and said " I'm gay and people in my old town found out and made my life a living hell. You're cousin Robby knows I'm gay too so I'm freaking out" he also said "You're my best friend, the bestest friend I've ever had and I don't want you to go" he looked like he was going to cry. I was relieved that I hadn't done anything wrong and I lent over and whispered in his ear "it's ok Danny, I'm bi and no one knows so we are fine" Danny looked so relieved and things went back to normal and life was good.

When I got home, mum was out and I heard Emma moaning in her room, I knocked on her door with no answer, I opened the door and saw Emma naked from the waist down, headphones on and eyes closed, laying on her side and working a dildo in her arse! I quickly went to my room, stripped naked and ran back to Emma's room, my hard cock bouncing as I ran. I walked to the edge of her bed and just watched her! After a couple of minutes I reached out and touched her ankle startelling her, Emma opened her eyes wide before she realised it was me, smiled and pulled her headphones off and said "oh good it's you" I didn't reply I just climbed onto her bed, I moved her hand off her dildo, pulled it out and threw it on the floor, I layed on my side behind her and without saying a single word, I pushed my cock into her arse.

She was already stretched out so I was able to fuck her nice and easy right away. Emma moaned loudly and bucked her hips and butt into my cock. God she felt great. I try'd something new and reached over and stuck two fingers in her pussy and try'd my best to pound her pussy at the same time I fucked her arse. This drove her wild and she squirted all over my hand as her arsehole gripped my cock as it spasmed.

I cam in her shortly after that. Before we showered and we decided to start cooking diner to surprise mum when she got home. Emma sucked my cock in the kitchen just before mum got home.

A few days had passed. Danny and I were inseparable.

[fagofgod]

why do i have favourite teachers. why are they all my language teachers. why do i feel attacked when people shit about them

#help im going though it right now #some of my classmates were saying that our lit teacher sucks and now i feel like crying #also. my english teacher seems like. upset with us and it fucked with my head #ok everyone likes my chinese/mtl teacher tho. so theres that #achil.txture #正洋在讲话 #am i really using that for my text posts now? yea. what about it

[sallyf4ce]

wolves

chapter IV

-> sally face x f!reader

-> enemies? to lovers

-> previous | next

cw: drugs, cigarettes, violence, homophobia

*does not follow original plot of sally face*

summary: (y/n) and travis make up (ish), (y/n) gets hurt again (you really shouldn’t be surprised), larry gets a little moody (i don’t think he likes (y/n) very much), sal makes a move on (y/n) (although he doesn’t know he did)

“You’re (y/n), right? New kid?” Travis looks at you as you press the wet cloth to your nose. You nod.

“How’d you know?”

“Sal said it. he muttered. The disgusted look on his face was proven a facade by the blush on his cheeks.

“You’re in love, buddy.” you laugh.

“No i’m fucking not! You’re so fucking stupid, what the fuck? Who could love a faggot like Sally f-” you cut him off my shoving his head into the wall roughly. You don’t know what came over you, but being homophobic is still homophobic even if you’re in denial. You convinced yourself that it wasn’t about sally, it was just you being an ally. Way to kill the mood, travis.

“You pull that shit one more time and I'll leave you without teeth, blondie. Or would you rather i tell your dad that you hit girls?”

He squirms underneath your palm. “Sorry.” he looks at you with a pleading face.

You sigh and let him go. “S’fine. You need to learn how to control your anger, though, fuckface. You’re not gonna get anywhere with that attitude.” stuffing the bloody towel in your bag, you lead him out the door.

“I hate you.” Travis scoffs.

“What did i say?”

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><

“Larry, she’s already closer to travis than she is to us and they just met. Travis is a full-on dick, and they’re being all friendly! I didnt even know that was possible!” Sal chucks his bag in his locker. He hasn’t known you for long, but longer than travis! Plus he’s way nicer, too! Why’d you have to go and get all friendly with his bully?

“I don’t fucking like it either, sally face. Maybe we should just stay away from them.” Larry crossed his arms and leaned against the lockers.

Sal didn’t want to stay away from you, though. You were sweet, he was sure, just a little distant. Plus you just sort of intrigued him. He wanted to know why you were like this, what happened to you, why you had a prosthetic. Maybe it was hypocritical of him, though. He's only told Larry and Ashley about what happened to him, so he shouldn’t be picking at your trauma. you’ll tell him when you feel comfortable with it, but you’d need to be comfortable with him for that. and right now, it seems like you’re pretty comfortable with his bully.

“let’s go, dude. class starts in 5.”

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><

After grabbing your schedule with Travis, you set your stuff in your new locker (which smelled pretty good, surprisingly.) and began walking to your first class, math. Travis laughed at you when you read your schedule outloud and you gave him a whack on the head. What an idiot. He headed off to his first class, english.

you opened the door to the classroom and coughed to get the attention of the teacher, Mrs. Packerton.

“Ah, lovely! Class, say hi to (y/n) (l/n)!” she smiles as you awkwardly wave.

“You’ll be sitting in the back, right beside Sal.” an inaudible groan leaves your cracked lips as you make your way towards him, trying not to make eye contact.

“uh, here.” he moves over. you plop yourself down next to him and open your notebook.

“we’re doing a test right now. i’m pretty sure you won’t have to do it, since it’s your first day and all.” his blue hair bounces as he looks over to you again. it looks fluffy.

“you wanna touch it?” he chuckles. you don’t want to come off creepy, but he’s offering, right?

you reach out your prosthetic hand but quickly pull it back and switch it, realizing you can’t actually feel with it. he chuckles at your mistake and leans in to your touch.

you were right. it felt like clouds, puffy but still silky. it wasn’t combed properly, though.

“Mr. Fisher and Mrs. (L/n), you little lovebirds. hands to yourselves, please.” Mrs. Packerton laughs a little. “Ah, young love.”

you quickly pull your hand back and flush.

“stupid old lady.” you mutter.

“Mrs. P’s nice, she’s just a little… enamoured in her students’ love lives.” sal laughs.

“stop, you’re making her sound like a pedophile!” you cover your mouth to suppress your laugh and sal’s face heats up even more. He made you laugh!

You both quieted down as Sal continued his test and you doodled in your sketchbook.

“are you okay? after travis, you know.” he hummed, a mix of concern and jealousy swirling in his eyes.

“uh, yeah. i’m fine.”

“You sure? Your lips look pretty busted.”

“It’s all good.”

“why do you hang out with him, anyway?” he turned his test upside down and faced you again.

“what do you mean?” you’re confused.

“he hit you in the face first thing in the morning. If i was you, i wouldn't really like him.” sal gripped his pencil.

“are you jealous?” you question, a smirk on your face.

“No.” his expression is hidden behind his mask. you look into his eyes, trying to make him blush.

the blue is a different blue than the one you saw yesterday. it’s lighter, almost like a porcelain blue.

“whatever you say, porcelain face.”

“porcelain face?”

“your mask, and your eyes, i guess. they’re like a porcelain doll’s.”

he hums.

“what are you then? metal hand? cyborg? fist of steel?”

“you forgot iron fist.”

“iron fist?”

“sure.” you grin. sal’s heart flutters again.

“Alright children, please hand in your tests and nicely file out the class. The bell will ring any moment.” Mrs. Packerton smiles sweetly and starts collecting tests. You grab your bag and leave the class.

Sal looked around the room for a bit, looking for you. A flash of (h/c) hair leaving the room catches his eyes. He tries running after you, but you’re already heading towards your next class.

•Lunch time•

“Shut the fuck up, Trav. I said she was stupid, not stupid hot. I don't know where you got hot from! I literally never said it.” You shoved his shoulder. He just snickered and continued teasing you.

“Hey, (y/n)! Come have lunch with us!” Sal saw you walking with travis. He waved you over from the cafeteria. Travis immediately stopped laughing and sneered. He quickly began walking over to sal, raising his fist.

“Leave us alone, fucking fag-” travis swung at sal but you stepped in front of them, raising your arm to cover sal’s face since he was taller.

Travis throws punches like a wrestler, You already knew that. Maybe you shouldn't have used your real hand to catch it.

His fist slammed into your forearm roughly and you flinched.

“Fuck- travis, go cool off. Now. Leave.” you hold onto your arm. It stings, but it's not broken. You’ll be fine.

“You’re all a bunch of-” he stops mid sentence as you give him a glare. It sort of said ‘you’re gay too, dumbass.’ he scrunched his eyebrows and walked off.

“Oh my fucking god!” a girl with brown hair ran over to you and lightly grabbed your arm.

“This her, sal? Are you (Y/n)?” she looked at you. She seemed very sweet. Kind of reminded you of your cousin.

“Uh- yeah- can you let go?”

She smiles in apology and lets go.

“You didn't have to do that, (y/n).” sal scratches the back of his head. You’ve gotten hurt twice because of him. How are you supposed to be friends if the only thing sal does is hurt you?

“I think maple might have an ice pack in her lunch. Can you come sit with us?” He hopes you say yes.

“Yeah, okay.” you needed the ice pack and travis was nowhere to be seen, so you didn’t really have a choice.

“Hey, (y/n).” Larry grumbles as you walk to their table. It seems he’s upset with you.

“I just saved your buddy from travis. Not to your liking or something?” you look up to him. If something’s wrong, he should just fucking say it. Not beat around the bush like a pussy.

“Yeah. you and travis seem to be getting along well.” he finally makes eye contact with you. Sal and the girl seem uncomfortable.

“We all got our issues, asshole. Some of us just know how to deal with them better than others.” You sneer. He’s allowed not to like Travis, but he’s not allowed to be a bitch to you because you actually understand his actions and choose to help him instead of ignoring him.

“Whatever.” he spits. You turn to sal.

“I’ll get my own ice.” you begin walking away. “Also, watch your dog.” you hear sal chuckle as larry groans. He walks up to you before you can leave, Larry throwing his arms up in the air in disbelief.

“Hey, uh, (y/n)? I’m sorry you got hurt. Could- could i make it up to you somehow?” his hand is on yours. It’s warm, he’s probably blushing hard under his mask.

“Sure, sally. How would you do that?” you spin around to face him. You can see his mask rise a little and his smile peaks through.

“Do you have a phone?” he pulls his cell out. It’s just a simple black flip-phone with a few paint splatters.

“I do, it’s in my locker. I dont have my number memorized, though. Stupid area codes.” you mumble. “You wanna come get it with me?”

Sal looks back to his friends. Ash is nodding frantically while Larry twirls a cigarette through his fingers, still mad.

“Alright.”

taglist: @purelydarling @deadpoetsandhoney @ghostfacefricker6969 @percyyzz @whatsurgamertag @kiillian @potatochic2003 @beingaweebishell @glitterydonutangel @izzydrawsandwrites @angellicbitch @elebeleb @dream-of-eros @mr-bombastic

#sally face x reader #ashley campbell #larry johnson #sal fisher x reader #sally face #sally face smut

[bettsfic]

Hi Betts. Do you have any advice on describing facial expressions? I find myself returning to the same old "furrowed brows" and "raised eyebrows" etc. and can't seem to communicate the subtleties of the expressions that I see in my head. Thank you so much!

unfortunately, while prose is an excellent mechanism with which to describe the internal experience of being, it is a deeply ineffective one with which to describe our external reality, despite what the show-don’t-tell purists would have you believe. the more i think about the idea of fiction as existing in part to render reality, the more i wonder why historically so many english novelists have chosen to shoot themselves in the foot by committing to that ideology, considering how fucking hard it is. 

i plan to touch on this in a different sort of context in february’s newsletter which will be about the depiction of compulsory reality in fiction, but for now let’s focus specifically on facial expressions.

part of the magic of fiction is being able to “see” something in your imagination, condense that image into language, write it, and then have it be read by an audience who can then see that very same image, or at least their approximation of it, in order to derive meaning within a narrative. and isn’t that all raised eyebrows really do? what does it mean to witness someone raising their eyebrows? in fiction, writing a non-pov character raising their eyebrows means:

you, the writer, have defined the non-pov character’s cognition > you, the writer, have then developed that cognition into a facial expression for your pov character to witness > you, the writer, lend language to the depiction of that non-accessible cognition cum facial expression through the pov of accessible cognition > they, the reader, witness the image of the non-pov character’s raised eyebrows > they, the reader deduce (through the pov character’s narration, through the non-pov character’s action, through the non-pov character’s non-accessible cognition, through you, the writer’s, intention) that the non-pov character is surprised

so with all that said, how the FUCK can you be expected to do that transaction elegantly.

first i’m going to tell you what i think most writers and writing teachers would tell you, and then i’m going to tell you how i see it, and neither of them are going to be fun answers.

many writers, particularly of the show-don’t-tell variety, would tell you (and of course they’d never show you, because they’re hypocrites) that it is simply your job as a writer to understand the english language well enough -- and take enough time on the page to -- describe, as you say, the subtleties of the expressions that you see in your head. but of course, those same writers may also tell you never to use adjectives or adverbs, to elevate your verbs, and complicate your diction. they would tell you that if something is worth rendering (and to them, everything is worth rendering), then it’s worth rendering meaningfully. it’s worth taking an entire paragraph to artfully convey the exact way one’s eyebrows rise up one’s forehead, without resorting to “telling” the reader that one is shocked. 

oof city. i mean, i get it. fiction exists to lend us the witness of alternate realities we can’t otherwise experience. but also it can also only ever be a facsimile of that experience through what is basically groupings of squiggles on a page. with writing, to paraphrase an ancient text, you’ve gotta pick your battles. and then, pick fewer battles. put some of those battles back.

so here’s my answer, which is easier but also in some ways harder: you can never truly convey the subtleties of the expressions you see in your head. the work of the writer is not, as much as we may like it to be, the same as a cinematographer or an actor. at some point, you have to let go of the idea of descriptive control. once it’s out of your head and into someone else’s, it’s no longer in your grasp. eventually, a story belongs to its readers.

i know, this is a deeply unpopular opinion and one which does not make me any friends in the literary community. it goes wholly against the entire history of “show don’t tell” and the lovely work of early novelists to lift the form to its present regard. 

what i’m saying is, sometimes you just have to fucking say “he looked surprised” and move on.

so, that’s all the theory surrounding raised eyebrows to hopefully offer you some deeper insight, or at least an alternate perspective. here’s some practical application you can play around with to see what works for you:

when editing, remove ALL of your descriptions of facial expressions

i’m sorry if you feel like you’ve just been socked in the stomach. bear with me here. do a revision where you get rid of all of your descriptions of facial expressions to see how the piece stands up. you will very quickly see the narrative gaps, the places where you lose or flatten meaning. then, add only those expressions back in. you’ll be surprised how little you need.

play with telling over showing, or vice versa

replace a few “he raised his eyebrows” with “he looked surprised.” replace a few “he looked upset” with “he lowered his head and glanced down at his clasped hands.” see how they differ? “showing” is factual and requires the reader to interpret the action. “telling” is an interpretation/conclusion drawn by the narrator and conveyed to the reader. one is not inherently superior to the other. they both do different kinds of work, and have different narrative effects.

use facial expressions to complicate or conflict with dialogue, not confirm it

“he raised his eyebrows. ‘i’m surprised,’ he said.” <-- that’s a very silly example, but i just want to show you how sometimes you can let the dialogue do the dirty work. if a character says something, and their facial expression matches the thing they’re saying, it is maybe not worth mentioning the expression. or vice versa, maybe they make an expression instead of saying something. or maybe there’s a reason you do need both. it’s going to depend on the scene and your narrator.

however, if what their face is doing is in conflict with what they’re saying such that it would alter the meaning of the dialogue, then perhaps it’s worth noting. 

“he glanced down at his clasped hands. ‘i’m fine,’ he said.” <-- in this case, the factual description of his action gives us, the reader, the sense that he is l y i n g.

bonus: “’i’m fine,’ he said, but he looked upset.” <-- what’s wrong with that? nothing. it’s simple, it’s concise, it tells us about the perception and capacity of the narrator. no, it doesn’t allow the reader to “see” anything, but as i’ve mentioned, i don’t think the work of fiction is to “see” things. it’s to experience them, and sometimes that has more to do with the capabilities and limitations of your narrator than it does by clinging to the belief that you have to render the shiny surfaces of reality.

i hope this helps! more on the depiction of reality in february’s newsletter. 

my carrd | writing advice masterdoc

#writing advice #description #Anonymous

[phantomphangphucker]

Phic Phight: [REDACTED] “Oh Goddamnit. DANNY!”

Prompt Creator: @mr-lancers-english-class

Even Danny’s school projects cause ghostly issues and Lancer really should have seen this coming.

Alright fine, Lancer knew this was a bad idea. He knew it. And yet... here they all are, with each of his students doing their self-chosen presentations. And as he should have expected, Every. Single. One. has been on Phantom. Sure at least there’s been some variety. Star’s piece on his fashion and how that reflects on his personality and the era he died was actually fairly interesting (if it wasn’t for the fact that Phantom spiced up his jumpsuit with t-shirts and whatnot sometimes then this would have been a very boring one). Kwan also surprised him some, apparently he’s spent the past year or so sneaking photos of Phantom eating and did a piece on Phantom’s rather peculiar food tastes (who dips their pickles in milkshakes???) as well as effectively providing proof for the existence of ectoplasmic food (there’s no way any earth apples are neon green on the inside). Dash’s wasn’t even correctly calculated, trying to figure out how far Phantom could throw footballs based on his known strength and if he could kill someone by tackling them (disturbingly the answer -regardless of Dash’s bad math- was decidedly yes. Daniel seemed particularly disturbed). And Paulina’s was quite literally a badly written self-insert ship fan fic; the added drawings of what their child would look like only made it worse (Daniel left, not that Lancer could blame him. Lancer’s also glad for the ghost fight interrupting the presentation). Emilie’s was... disturbingly about ghost hunger and purposed the thesis that Phantom, for the good of the town, should eat the aggressor ghosts (he actually had to cut her off for getting too graphic).

But the single most interesting thing was that a ghost apparently caught wind of this and literally Every. Single. Presentation so far had words that were permanently replaced with [REDACTED], which, needless to say, caused some chaos when Samantha gave the very first presentation.

-

Lancer clicked his pen, crossing his legs and resting the evaluation sheet on his thigh, “alright, Samantha. Feel free to start whenever you please, though soon would be preferred”, by ‘preferred’ he had meant required, but no need to be mean. He chooses to ignore the goth teen's eyeroll.

Predictably the projected screen doesn’t work when she opens her file so Lancer has to spend ten minutes fiddling with the outdated tech that they wouldn’t give the school funding to replace. Eventually, he does get it up and running showing Ms. Manson’s title screen reading ‘Phantom And Hate Crimes Against Blood Blossoms’. Lancer’s positive ‘blood blossoms’ are a type of flower, figures she would do something nature-focused. She’d make for a great herbalist or botanist someday. He does catch Daniel and Tucker giving her ‘death glares’, as the kids call it, though; Samatha doesn’t look any less smug. The second page has what he thinks was supposed to be a detailed drawing of a flower but it’s severely pixilated, almost as if it been blurred; Samantha looks visibly upset so he’s going to assume something when wrong with the file or pasting format. He’s not marking on artistic capabilities though, so effort is effort there.

She quickly clicks to the next page, where the actual writing of the assignment is and looks decidedly pissed; Lancer even quirks an eyebrow since at least two-thirds of the words are a very bold noticeable [REDACTED]. Lancer watches her yank out her physical copy while glaring with murderous intent at Daniel -Lancer will have to dock him marks if he messed with another student's project- before looking at the physical copy in bafflement for a few seconds. Half the class shrieking when she drops the papers and basically launches herself over the desks at Daniel, “OH YOU LITTLE FUCKER!!!! HOW THE FUCK!”.

Lancer’s sighs and stands, “language, Ms. Manson”, moving to pick up the papers and quirking an eyebrow over them looking the same. Sighing again and eyeing Daniel, who’s being choked -or throttled perhaps?- by Samantha yet is grinning innocently. “Daniel, messing with other students' work is against student policy”, sighing yet again, “and I’ll let Star go while Samantha fixes her document”, summoning up the blonde while glaring at Daniel. Some days that boy was more trouble than he was worth but he was also insanely bright and had a heart of gold. Lancer knows he’ll do good things someday, and that’s why he still tries with him.

Half the class is snickering or laughing now and Star is very clearly trying not to laugh as she sets up.

However, as soon as it opens up the class is met with a very familiar sight. [REDACTED] litters every single page; he checked. And Star’s physical copy was in the same state.

Kwan blinks, “okay seriously, what is going on”, before scrambling to grab out his own physical copy; the rest of the class going wide-eyed and following suit. Lancer just puts his head in his hands and sighs very audibly while shaking his head. Why could nothing go right? Sighing again as the class erupts into noise.

“Mines all weird too!”.

“Same here!”.

“Okay there is no way Fenturd messed up everyone’s work”.

“And I actually tried on mine! It was about the merits of Phantom getting armour!”.

“Oh damn do we just get auto hundreds now? Please please please say yes”.

“Oh damn, Phantom would actually look awesome in armour”.

“I know right”.

“Can we just skip class entirely now?”.

“Oh my Zone a ghost messed with or work”.

“Holy Shit”.

“Wait! Wait! Wait! You don’t think Phantom did do you?”.

“Why the heck would he do that? How would he even know??????”.

“Oh I hope Phantom was inside my computer. That would be so hot”.

“Oh I don’t know, maybe someone told him or he overheard shit. He’s a ghost, he can be invisible. Heck, he could be here, right now, invisible”.

“Invisible and laughing at us”.

“No! No! Hold up! What if he doesn’t want us writing about him or maybe someone wrote some sus shit and he just nerfed us all for good measure”.

“That would mean Phantom totally read my stuff, aw Hell yeah man. That was some boss shit”,

Lancer sighs and stands up, “alright that’s enough”, sighing again because why did this have to happen to him, “and I apologies for blaming you earlier, Daniel”.

Samantha snaps, “oh no, I still blame him”, and continues glaring at the teen. Lancer suspects Samantha would continue blaming the boy even if it was firmly proven he wasn’t at fault.

Addressing the class again, “here’s what we’re going to do, you’re going to read off what of your projects you actually can and allude to the rest. Please reframe from repeating what you know was there beforehand as I’d rather not have whatever ghost responsible -Phantom or otherwise- come here pissed off”, glaring at few students who look slightly encouraged rather than discouraged by that prospect, “anyone who does will receive automatic zeroes”, ah and the encouraged looks have deflated. Good. Gesturing at Star, “you’re already up here, so do continue”. Better to not bring the clearly infuriated Samantha back to the front until she’s had some time to calm down.

Star nods and clears her throat, thankfully everyone quiets down. “O-okay, well, um”, gesturing at the screen, “I did my piece on Phantom’s sense of fashion and the cover image was one with him dressed in one of the Spook Sense stores meme shirts....”.

-

Lancer shakes away the memory, he honestly slightly regrets giving this project. But regardless right now is Daniel’s turn and Lancer is honestly slightly fearful of what his file is going to look like. Thankfully all their files were saved to his computer before the [REDACTED] debacle, so no one could go back in and edit theirs to add [REDACTED]’s for an easy grade. Lancer’s still not exactly sure how he’s supposed to mark assignments that were anywhere from one-fifth to one-third [REDACTED]. That word will be burned into his head after this grading period.

Lancer moves to find the boys file, but stares when clicking it crashes the computer. Not once. Not twice. But thrice. The fourth time rebooting the computer he inspects the file and is a bit dumbfounded, “Daniel, your entire file’s corrupted. The file type has even been changed to redacted, which I’m fairly sure, isn’t actually any possible file designation”. Everyone’s silent for a bit before bursting out into laughter.

“Just what the Zone did you write, Danny!”.

“Oh we so have to know what this is now”.

“Danny has the forbidden knowledge! We haft found him! The keeper of things forbidden and Ghostly! Haza!”.

“Ha! It was probably so lame that Phantom wanted to save him the embarrassment”.

Lancer sighs, but Daniel gestures Tucker up, “hey Tuck, feel like trying to fix the file”. Tucker chuckles and walks up, though apparently glaring at the boy. Based on Daniel’s smirk he finds this quite amusing.

Tucker does manage to make the file viewable at least. Lancer nods and leans back in his seat, “thank you, Mr. Foley”, while the file loads on screen.

Tucker sits back down with a head shake while Daniel stands at the front and gestures to the screen, “aight, as you can see from my not redacted title-”, that earns a couple laughs, “I did mine on Phantom’s portfolio of crime. Every single time our dear Phantom broke ghost law. Including such wonderful things as, that time he caused not one, not two, not even three, but five, prison breaks in one day. Or that time he invalidated a Observant spectator duel by bringing an inflatable sword”. Samantha slams a hand on her desk, “IT IS YOUR FAULT YOU DICK!”.

Lancer has some serious questions as Daniel clicks for the next page, the entire class going dead silent as a screen comprising of almost nothing but the word [REDACTED] shows. Lancer sighs very audibly. Eventually the class starts up again.

“Fenton... actually has forbidden knowledge”.

“If it wasn’t for the teacher computer saved thing I’d think he was fucking with us”.

“I mean... he is a Fenton, right?”.

“Okay the fact that this entire presentation is on ghost crimes is concerning alone. But they’re forbidden ghost crimes at that”.

“Shit I wanted the tea. Damnit”.

“Better question, how does Danny know?”.

Daniel clicking the button to go forward is very audible. And, Chicken Soup For The Soul, every single page is [REDACTED] to the point of being completely and utterly unintelligible. There are occasional lines pointing out how Phantom apparently ate confetti at a ghosts third wedding (which is apparently illegal for some reason) or that time he beat someone up with a violin that had a pie inside it (Lancer can see this one, Lancer himself has smacked a ghost with stranger).  Literally the only photo that isn’t blurred beyond recognition is one of Phantom in a prison uniform (Paulina was very vocal about liking men in uniform here). Lancer is absolutely positive the end of his conclusion ‘[REDACTED] are a bunch of [REDACTED]’ is an insult.

Samantha chucks a boot at his smirking face, “YOU IDIOT. Of course they were going to block you from talking about them. Ancients, I can’t believe you”. Tucker’s busy laughing into his hand.

“Oh my Zone, they know too”.

“They’re really earning that weirdo trio title, huh”.

Daniel snickers as he sits back down, “they broke into my room and wrecked that epic puzzle I was working on. They shoulda seen this shit coming. Literally”. Tucker snorts, “they probably did but couldn’t do anything else about it. They can’t stop you and your endless bullshit”.

“Damn fucking straight”.

Lancer isn’t going to claim to know what exactly they’re talking about but apparently Daniel effectively orchestrated this entire fiasco just to annoy some ghost. Lancer is honestly more impressed than disturbed. A for effort but an A- for making everyone's work nigh unusable.

End.

Prompt: For the last project of their senior year in high school, Mr. Lancer is letting his class do presentations on literally whatever topic they want. He is very, /very/ sure that this is going to go poorly, but that's a problem for later...

#Danny Phantom #phandom #phic phight #phic phight 2021 #danny #mr. lancer #sam #star #tucker #basically danny's entire english class #comedy #school projects #danny's a little shit #messing with the observants from afar #my writing #fan fic #phan phic #have a fic suck my dick #phantomphangphucker #gothmoth #thetribalmoth

[libraryofloveletters]

Misplaced Promises

Eddie Diaz x Sister!Reader

Warnings: sibling arguing, general protectiveness, a few swear words and that’s it I think ? 

Category: angst/fluff

Word Count: 3.6k

Author’s Note: This one mostly focuses how Eddie tries his best to keep promises he makes and be a good brother but he keeps fucking up. I also tried my best for this to follow a timeline and make it make sense with canon but idk, I made shit up go with it. // 

---- 

14 years old // 19 years old. 

The 2 of you were 5 years apart but you were attached at the hip. Eddie was your big brother, the guy you looked up to the most, the person you went to when you didn’t know what to do. You had 2 sisters but what you and Eddie had was different. Sophia and Adriana were the two older ones, they stuck together and they included you but it wasn't the same. 

The day before Eddie announced that he enlisted, he had been quiet, shifty and weird all day. He avoided you at all costs. You needed him to look over a project for you - seeing that you ended up with the same English teacher he had in high school but he kept coming up with excuses as to why he couldn't help you. 

“Running to the store to pick up something for mom, I'll check when I get back” 

“Going to play some ball with the guys, remind me when I get back” 

“Gonna shower, I'll do it after” 

“Let me go see Shan for a bit, I'll check it when I come home” 

Excuse after excuse, he was up to something and knew you would be able to tell so he ignored you at all costs. The next morning at breakfast, he announced that he was enlisting, Shannon was at breakfast too and she didn’t seem shocked at all. 

Your father asked him why, your mother began crying and your sisters wished him good luck and hoped that he would be safe. You on the other hand, had your eyes glued to Shannon. 

“You knew?” your question directed straight at her. 

She nodded, “he told me last night” 

“Huh,” you scoff, getting up. “you told her before you told us ?” looking towards your brother. 

“y/n, don’t” his look pleading you not to start and you didn’t, simply walking away and going to your bedroom. You can hear bits of the conversation from your room, Eddie telling your parents that he’s only going to do one tour just until he finds what he really wants to do. 

It was a while before someone came looking for you and no surprise, it was Eddie. 

“Can I check the paper for you now?” he sticks his head in from the doorway, waiting for your answer- his way of hoping that you’d talk to him. 

“Sure” nodding toward the computer on the desk. Eddie made himself comfortable in the chair and began going over the paper. The keyboard clicking as he edited the paper and your sighing were the only sounds to be heard. 

Everyone had been dealing with the news differently. Your father had turned to whatever project he was building in the backyard, your mother had stepped out- probably to go to the store to get stuff to make one last proper meal for him before he left and your sisters seemed to be handling it well, you could hear them bickering in the hallway over who would get his room as they passed by. 

It’s not that they didn’t love him, they just had a different version of the world and of love. 

The whole family did.  

Sophia and Adriana were the first two, all the love and support of your parents was what they basked in. 

Eddie was the only boy, automatically gaining him an in as a mama’s boy and his father’s only son, someone to show off- he was their pride and joy. 

That left you, not that they loved you any less because they ‘love all their children the same’ but you never got the parental love and affection that your siblings did. Your parents were busy working and now that you were in high school and capable of looking after yourself, you saw them even less. Eddie had always been there, at the recitals, school concerts, whenever you learnt a new trick and was looking for someone to show, he was there. 

In some way, Eddie raised you more than your parents did. 

That’s why you couldn’t wrap your head around it. 

“Couldn't just find a job here like every other lost kid after high school ? You had to go sign up to get yourself killed?” sitting up, you look towards him. 

Eddie sighed, leaning back into the chair and looking at you. He looked sad, almost hurt. “I didn’t ‘sign up to get myself killed’” he tells you, “I can’t sit around watching Soph and Adriana get their lives together meanwhile I'm still living with mom and dad and I have no idea what to do” 

“So what? you take a little longer to get your life together, that’s not the end of the world.” 

“I’m supposed to know what I want to do, I've been out of high school for a year and a half. Most people have already moved out of their parents’ houses” 

“God you’re so stupid” you groan, falling back onto the bed.

“Excuse me?” he looks at you, obviously offended. You get up off the end, pacing the room for a moment, trying to gather your thoughts. 

“Just because you’re lost doesn't mean you sign up for the fricking army! Eddie, you could die” your voice breaks at the end of the sentence. Then and only then did Eddie really see how upset you were, you really thought he could die- yes there was that possibility but he knew that when he signed up. He gets up off the chair, you were now facing the window, not wanting him to see the tears that were forming. His hand resting gently on your shoulder. 

“I’m not gonna die” he whispers, pulling your shoulder towards him which caused you to turn. “You better not, I'll kill you” 

“But I'll be de-” “shut up” you give him a look, he chuckles and pulls you in for a hug. “I promise I'll come home, who else is going to keep you in check?” he teased which earned him a smack to the side, “more like who’s gonna keep you in check” you rebutted, a smile on your face now. Eddie kissed the top of your head, his cheek now resting atop of head - abuela’s words ringing in his head. 

“Don’t make promises you can't keep Edmundo” 

She had scolded him for promising to give his sister her candy back after he knew he was going to eat it (and he did, but that’s besides the point) 

He promised to come home but he didn’t know if he would. 

--

17 years old // 22 years old 

“We’re having a baby!” Eddie’s arm around Shannon as they announce the second piece of exciting news for that evening to the family.

Eddie had finally returned from his first tour with the announcement that he and Shannon were getting married all while they were expecting as well. Your parents were the first up to go congratulate the love birds, your sisters are next and you follow last. Hugging Shannon who was already beaming with happiness and then your brother who hugs you for a second longer than needed, whispering that he wants to talk to you afterwards. Humming, you step back and go to help your mother set up for dinner. 

The rest of the evening is spent talking about when the baby is arriving, the plans for the wedding and whatever other exciting things are happening for them at that moment. You tuned out about halfway through the conversation, only replying with the simplest answers to make it seem like you were actually listening. 

Your sisters, mother and Shannon were in the kitchen all gossiping and making plans for the wedding. A big church wedding, ‘do it right’ as your mother would say because ‘if you do it right the first time, you don’t need to do it again.’

The whole big wedding thing was a scam- a pile of bullshit that you wanted no part of. Don’t let that fool you, you were beyond happy for your brother, becoming a husband and a father- those were things the two of you used to joke about, thinking that it was such a long time from then yet here you are. 

The door slammed as it shut, Eddie sitting beside you on the porch. He set a bottle on the step beside you. You glance at the bottle and then at him, brows furrowed. 

“Thought you could use a drink after all the exciting news” he hums, taking a sip out of his own bottle. 

You let out a dry chuckle, taking a sip yourself. “Yeah, congrats dude. Husband and baby daddy in one go ? You got the guys around here beat” jokingly nudging him with your shoulder. Eddie laughs, “yeah.” the word kind of trailed off, there was more to the answer than he was letting on. 

“What's wrong ?” 

“Are you really happy for me ?” he turns to you, “I know you weren't exactly happy when I left, especially that I told Shannon first. I just.. you’re my little sister and it means so much that you’re on board with everything-” your hand rests on his. 

“You always were kind of an idiot huh?” you pat his hand, Eddie looking clearly offended again. “Of course I'm happy for you. You’re my brother and no matter how much we fight, there’s no way I wouldn't be there for you. Eddie, you’re going to be an amazing dad, you know that right ?” 

“Yeah ? You think so ?” 

“Mhm hm, know how I know?” 

“Do tell” 

“Because you raised me and I turned out just fine” you smiled and so did Eddie, shaking his head. 

--

23 years old // 28 years old 

Eddie’s place was covered in boxes, the fight with your parents was the last button to be pushed. He packed up the remnants of his life in El Paso and was on his way out to the door.  

Christopher was sitting on the couch, his favourite show on tv as you were packing up the last of the dishes in the kitchen. Eddie had just stepped back in after taking some boxes out to the truck. You leant against the counter, looking at him. He knew you weren't the biggest fan of his plan but you supported him nonetheless because that’s what siblings do. 

“What? Why do you keep staring ?” he snapped. 

“Jesus, who pissed in your coffee?” rolling your eyes at your brother.  

“Sorry, I'm just ready to get out of here” he tosses a few things into a box. There had been unspoken words between the two of you since he mentioned that he wanted to move. You didn’t say anything, just listened and helped pack boxes but all of that stops now. 

“Are you sure this is the smartest thing?” 

“What do you mean?” he stops what he was doing and turns his attention to you. 

“I know mom and dad were in the wrong for asking- telling you that Chris should move in with them, that’s bullshit. He’s not their kid, he’s your kid but why are you running Eddie ? You have family there besides them, Sophia and Adriana and me. I’m here Eddie, I've always been here, helping you with Chris since Shannon left.” 

“That’s exactly the point, Shannon left. She upped and left us y/n, left me to raise Chris by myself.” 

“So did you.” you tell him what you had been waiting to tell him since Christoper was a baby. 

“What the hell are you talking about?” the anger visible on his face. 

“You left. You upped and left Shannon when she needed you the most, she needed a partner that was here and not thousands of miles away. She just had a baby- your baby and you left her to go to the fucking desert! you risked your life for what ?! you had a family Eddie! You promised just one tour but you just had to go back, you had a family that needed you!” 

“Exactly! I had a family that needed me! That’s why I left, I had to provide for them.” 

“Don’t give me that shit. You wanna know why mom and dad walk all over you when it comes to raising Chris ? Because you left! You fucking left when the mother of your child, your wife and your child needed you! He needed a father and you left Eddie! Do you know what that does to a child?!” 

“Don’t tell me how to raise my child and you sure as hell don't get a say in where my marriage went wrong!” the two of you stood in the kitchen shouting at each other. 

The things you said were nothing but what you felt was the truth - he did leave Shannon after she had Chris, when she needed him to be there. You weren't siding with her but you weren't picking up for him either- someone had to let him straight and your parents would never dare say the things you would say to him. Although they didn’t like his approach to raising Christoper, they would never say that because Eddie was their son. They much rather half ass suggest things and beat around the bush than tell Eddie straight what they felt. 

The rest of the night was quiet, nothing left to be said between the two of you. Tucking Chris into bed one last time before they leave, you spend the night because you promised Chris you’d be there when they left. 

The morning comes and Eddie is quiet, no surprise there. Chris is attached to your hip and the 2 of you stood outside the house, saying goodbye. You crouch down in front of your nephew, “will you come visit?” he asks you sweetly, your heart breaks a little knowing that you won’t be visiting anytime soon but you put on a smile for him. “Of course, only if we stay up late and eat all the candy we can find” you tickle his side, earning a full belly laugh- your favourite sound. 

“I love you always, you know that right ?” you look up at the little boy who's nodding. “I love you” he smiles, his finger tapping your nose, yours comes up to mirror his action. 

“Okay, give me a big hug and you be good for your dad, he’s a good guy. He just bugs out sometimes” you hug Christoper, his arms wrapped around your neck as you pick him up, carrying him to the trunk. 

Eddie comes out just as you’re putting Chris in. He hands you the keys to the house as he checks to make sure Chris is buckled in properly. 

The two of you standing there awkwardly before Eddie mumbles bye and walks around the truck. Stepping back, you watch as they pull you, Christoper waving to you from the window. 

--

25 years old // 30 years old

El Paso had treated you well, growing up there and going to school but you needed a change now. Applying to teaching jobs all over the country, you hear back from two- one is Minnesota and one in LA but you couldn't handle the cold so LA it was. 

The staff at the school were sweet and welcoming, you had arrived just in time for the new school year. The woman at the front desk was asking you some standard questions when she came across your name on the form.

“Miss, is it l/n or Diaz for your last name ? You have both listed here” she looks to you for an answer. You stared at the paper in front of you- l/n was your mother’s last name and Diaz was your father’s. All your legal documents had Diaz on it but you weren’t sure if you wanted to go by it or not, maybe make something for yourself with the Diaz family name attached to you.

“Miss ?” She asked again, looking at you.

“Diaz. Y/n Diaz is fine” 

Classes start and you’re getting settled in nicely, there’s still some shuffling around in terms of students and you get a finalized class list at the end of the week. Not really looking over it, you set it on the desk until the next morning when you say hello to your new class.

You begin writing your name on the board as the children set in.  

Ms. Diaz in big bold letters. 

“Hey! We have the same last name!” a little boy calls out- voice almost identical to your Chris’ voice. 

Turning, there he was sitting n the middle of the class, your nephew Christopher - except no one knows he’s your nephew nor did he seem to remember that you were his aunt. 5 years without a phone call or a visit is a long time, you wouldn't be surprised if he doesn't remember you and he doesn’t. You treat him as you would treat the rest of your students. 

The end of the day rolls around, Chris is the last student waiting with you. It was getting a bit chilly so the two of you headed into the classroom. Christoper tells you about his dad- unknowing to him that Eddie is your brother and talks about how he’s a firefighter and all the cool things he got to do when he visited the station. 

A blonde man, tall and built in stature comes running into your classroom. “Chris! Buddy!” he heads over to the boy, giving him a hug. “Buck!” the boy smiles, returning the gesture. It was obvious that he knew Chris, the man noticed you watching them. 

“Hi, I'm Ms. Diaz, y/n. Christopher’s teacher” you introduce yourself. The man smiles, “I'm Buck, I work with Christopher’s dad” 

“He sent you to pick up Chris ?” 

“Oh no, he's parking, I just came in to find him because we didn’t see anyone outside. Sorry about that, work ran late” he apologizes. 

“No worries, Chris is a great kid. oh buddy, I was supposed to give you a sticker for your work today hold on” you leave Chris and Buck by the door as you go back to your desk, looking for a sticker sheet. When you returned, Eddie was there with Buck, both men had their backs turned to you. 

“Yeah! She has the same last name as us dad, there is she” the boy smiled, waving at you. “Ms. Diaz!” he shouts as you make your way over. You don't look at the men instead you step past them, crouching down in front of Chris showing him the sticker sheet. 

“Which one would you like?” showing him the sheet, Christopher picks out a little green star with a smiley face on it. Peeling it from the sheet, you stick it on his shirt. 

“Can dad and Buck have matching ones too ?” he asks sweetly and who were you to turn down such a cute face.

“Of course,” smiling at him, you stand and turn to Buck. “Can I ?” he nods, watching as you repeat the process and stick the green star to his shirt. 

When it comes Eddie’s turn, you can feel Buck’s eyes on you and you see him move to Eddie as well. As for Eddie himself, his eyes were wide, he hadn't spoken to you in almost 5 years and his parents refused to tell him anything other than ‘she’s fine’ when he asked. You didn’t ask him, you just stuck the sticker on him, on his forehead to be exact. 

Eddie pulled you in for a hug, a well needed yet weird one. Buck and Chris are whispering behind the two of you. 

“I’m sorry” Eddie whispers, his arms still around you. 

“I’m the one that said all that shit” you tell him, he shakes his head and lets you go. 

“You were right. I’m sorry. I know sorry isn't going to fix it but you’re here and I- I just wanna fix things. I miss my sister and I know Chris misses his aunt” 

“Yeah, you’re an ass but you’re still my brother. I guess it wouldn’t hurt to try” 

Buck goes “oh” behind you, you’re now standing beside Eddie- arms folded and brows furrowed, the same expression on both of you. 

“Yeah, I see it now” Buck mumbles, “I’m starving, what’s for dinner ?” he asks, him and Chris walking towards the door together.

 You and Eddie follow them out, “why don't you join us for dinner ?” Eddie turns to you, you give him a look. “I can’t crash your time with your boyfriend, y’all are probably-” “my what ?” once again, Eddie had a stupid look on his face. 

“So you’re telling me that wonderful human ball of joy isn't your boyfriend ?” looking at your brother, the stupid look still on his face. 

“No, why would you think that ?” hearing the genuine confusion in his voice, you laugh. 

“No reason, but if you’re not gonna date him, I might.” Giving your brother a smile, his head tilts and a look you know all too well on his face. 

“Don’t” his finger pointed at you, you were now biting back a laugh. 

“Hey Buck!” you shout, running towards him, Eddie running behind you and shouting for you to stop. 

Things were going to fall back into place pretty easily. 

-----

taglist: @advicefromnixxxx @keenmarvellover​ @beth-winchester21​ @fernandaweasley2​ @yikesyikesyikes95​ @hotchsdarling​ @duhbar1975​@hailsstormthings @averyhotchner​ @captainxholmes​ 

#eddie diaz #eddie diaz x reader #eddie diaz oneshot #eddie diaz imagine #eddie diaz fan fic #eddie diaz fanfic #eddie diaz fic #911 #911 fic #911 fanfic #911 imagine #911 reader insert #911 oneshot #9-1-1 #9-1-1 oneshot #9-1-1 fanfiction #9-1-1 reader insert #9-1-1 fic #9-1-1 fanfic #9-1-1 imagine #edmundo diaz

[jarofstyles]

Teacher’s Pet

A/N: As requested, here is the first part of our professor!harry series. As usual, this we put our little twist on things and we hope that you enjoy! - n+d

send feedback and requests here

If you like this, check out our Patreon!

masterlist

pairing: Harry Styles x Reader

warning: smut, mutual masturbation, use of sex toys

word count: 6.2k

While Harry tried not to show favoritism in his courses, it was hard not to be caring towards the students that showed effort but struggled. That was the case with little Y/N. She was young, pretty, had a bit of an edge to her. From what he had noticed she was kind and often let people borrow pens and once gave a diabetic classmate her muffin when she saw he was a bit pale and taking his blood sugar. 

He wasn’t everyone’s favorite professor. He was a tough grader, had a bit of a resting ‘bitch’ face, and he wasn’t necessarily warm and fuzzy. It wasn’t what Harry wanted at all— but it had to be done so that the students wouldn’t just see him as a peer. He had learned that early in. He had to be strict and get respect or he would be stuck with slackers or people who thought he would ‘do them a solid’ as one student had tried to ask with a fist bump. But when it came to sweet students with dyed hair, a devastated little pout, and even watery eyes, he knew he would have to say something. 

‘If you would like some help, please come to my office any time after 4. I would be happy to assist in figuring out the material.’

It was written next to a poor grade. He could tell that she had potential— she just wasn’t getting it. He also worried about her word usage. If what he thought of was correct, it would make sense why she was struggling.

School was never one of Y/N’s strong suits. From the beginning of her school career she struggled with getting the hang of concepts and her teachers grew a distaste for her because they thought she wasn’t trying. Y/N was a hard worker though, she did genuinely try, but her best was never enough. A few teachers pointed out that she might have a learning disability, but her parents denied that ever being a case. Her other siblings, both older and younger, were able to grasp concepts easily and were all incredible book smart in addition to being talented outside of school. It seemed that Y/N was just the bad apple of the bunch. Her parents would joke, but of course it hurt. She didn’t even want to go to college originally, but her parents forced her to at least try and get a degree so she wouldn’t be a low life. Y/N only agreed because they said they’d keep paying for her band. Of course, you can only really go to college if you pass though and Y/N wasn’t doing too well. 

Professor Styles had always intimidated her, but he just took his job seriously. She could tell by the way he talked about everything that he was passionate about making sure people understood the deeper meaning behind these books and Y/N could appreciate that. It was just a shame that she struggled so much in his class. There were students that excelled in his classes and he was always giving them praise, little surprised smiles and nods, a small ‘good job’ or ‘correct, yes’ here and there. Y/N found herself wanting to try harder in his classes just to get a praise out of him, but she was too nervous to raise her hand even when she did know the answer. This was her third time getting a not so passing grade in this class and Y/N was growing more and more frustrated. She understood the material, or she felt like she did, but whenever it came to reading and remembering, she found herself getting stuck. Little frustrated tears formed in her eyes but she blinked them away, thinking she wasn’t going to muster up the courage to see him today. 

But she did.

He had a soft spot for the students that he helped. It was human nature to care for those you spent time with. It wasn’t like how he thought about Y/N though. Okay— he knew it was bad. But he was intrigued by her. Why? He wasn’t able to pinpoint exactly what it was. Maybe her edgy look, maybe it was because she was seemingly submissive and every time he caught her eye she looked like a deer in headlights. She stares at him a lot, he could notice that. But he likes it. So he was pleasantly surprised when she came to his office, looking skittish but also curious. She needed help and he would offer it to her. 

“Y/N, it’s nice to see you.” Harry adjusted his glasses and sat up straighter, putting the final mark on a test before looking back up at her with a gentle smile. He had to approach with caution, she already looked like she was going to shit herself. “I’m glad you got my note and weren’t offended. But I was wondering if you’d like some help.” He didn’t say what because he wanted her to tell him what exactly she was struggling with.

Y/N was very nervous, mostly because she didn’t like asking for help from anyone. She didn’t like to seem unintelligent in front of men, especially when they were as attractive as Professor Styles. All the girls on campus talked about how hot he was, how his dominance was a turn on and how none of them were properly able to focus in class. At least they were getting passing grades. 

“Hi, professor...” Y/N said softly and closed the door behind her before taking a seat. “I, um... I’m not really good with asking for help.” She explained, pushing a few pieces of hair behind her ear before fixing her septum piercing. Y/N was playing with the hem of her skirt, one of her fingers playing with the fishnet stockings she had on. “I feel like I understand when you’re explaining it and then I go and take the test and it’s like I can’t remember anything you said. But I’m not good at academics anyway so...” Y/N let out a sad chuckle. Her self confidence was pretty low in all aspects, it was a shame because she was a pretty girl. She didn’t seem to think so, hence why she dressed up. At least her clothes she could control.

“Now, don’t say that.” Harry tutted. “I’m sure that’s not true. I bet you just have a different way of learning. If you understand verbally, but freeze when it’s written, that may be the case.” He hummed, flipping through the last work she had handed in. “My question is... it isn’t meant to offend you at all. But do you find difficulty in reading itself?” He approached it gently. You’d be surprised how many adults realize later on in life that they have dyslexia. They were labeled as not the smartest but he was because it took so long for them to understand because the words and numbers get jumbled up. “I’m asking because I notice in your writings, you spell things in a unique way. Or it seems the letters are flipped. This isn’t to embarrass you so please don’t be upset— we just need to figure out why it is that you struggle with the tests.” He leaned forward on his desk, licking over his bottom lip. She was beautiful. In that way when women didn’t know they were beautiful. He wished he could see more of her body— fuck, not going there. Absolutely not. Even though technically it wasn’t like he would be fired, seeing as half the damn staff fucks students. It was always that forbidden element. Either way, he was far too much for this sweet thing to handle. “I would like to help you if you would let me do so.”

Y/N felt really anxious, bouncing her leg to try and keep her composure. She didn’t think she was smart. She wasn’t good at math, wasn’t good at science, she was decent at English but even that seemed to be difficult now that she was reading classics that were barely in modern English. She just decided that learning wasn’t for her. 

“I’m not a reader, no.” She shook her head, Y/N found herself having trouble focusing for a long time and when it came to reading words get jumbled up and she struggled a lot. Especially when she started thinking about it too much. Of course Y/N was embarrassed even though he said he wasn’t trying to embarrass her. It was more just her feeling incompetent. She didn’t like making eye contact with him for too long because she felt like he was staring straight into her soul. She was a bit shy and timid when it came to new people. She appreciated that he wasn’t judging her though. “I don’t know what you could do to help, but if you’d like to try we can? I—I don’t want to waste your time.”

“There’s no wasting time if it helps improve your learning, yeah? Please don’t think of yourself like that. You are an important person, just as important as my other students. I want you to succeed.” Harry promised. It kind of broke his heart that she was so sure that her time with him would be wasted. It made him sad that she felt that way. Why? “How about we set up a time... let’s say two days a week? I have time around now, so 4:15 to 5 where I can help you.” He normally wouldn’t do it for most  but he wasn’t going to let her suffer. A passion project, so to speak. “I don’t know your schedule but I would be here during that time normally. I basically live in this office anyways.” He smiled in a joking way. “We can work on understanding first what was wrong and then we can have time to work on the new material.”

Y/N nodded her head in agreement, but it did make her worry. Of course she could only try her best but she was so used to failing that she wasn’t sure how much harder she could try. She was barely passing her other classes and frankly she was thinking about dropping out all together. Maybe she was the lowlife her parents made her out to be? 

“Can do... Monday’s and Thursday’s..” Y/N told him, “if that’s okay, I have band practice on Wednesday’s.” She wasn’t sure why’s she told him but part of it was to show that she wasn’t just a stupid girl that she did have some talent or at least she thought she did. “It’s um... it’s really nice of you to do this, thank you.” She told him genuinely, though she was terrified of letting him down. He seemed so cool. He wasn’t like this in his classes, he seemed much more approachable this way. Maybe in another life they could have been friends or more than that... no, he probably wasn’t into girls like her. She needed a cigarette.

“Of course. You have my email if you need to reschedule.” But he could see right through her. Of course he could. “But... if you’re nervous, tell me. I can soothe the worries. I’ll be awfully disappointed if you don’t show up and don’t let me know.” He knew she was skittish. He didn’t want her to back out and not take the time to try at the very least. “Let’s just work on it a day at a time. I hope to see you soon.” 

When she walked out, he was ashamed to say he was entranced by her ass. He was such a bastard for thinking about a student like that. So bad. But it didn’t stop him from seeing her eyes when he fucked his fist later that night.

----

The next couple of days left Y/N worried. Coming out of professor Styles’ office had left her feeling on edge, wondering if it was even worth trying. She felt like nothing would save her at this point but this was going to be her last attempt. If it didn’t work out she’d just drop out and couch surf. But she didn’t want to have to do that, her kitty Jinx would have to find a new home and that was something she certainly didn’t want. It was Monday and Y/N didn’t go to her classes today, feeling like it was justified because she was meeting with Professor Styles today. 

If she was going to work on herself she wanted to be in the best shape possible, so she smoked some weed in the morning to get her day off right and got her things together before getting her skateboard and making her way to his office.

Harry was pleased when she actually showed up at his office. He was half expecting her to drop his class with how terrified she had seemed the past time, and he was curious to see how she had thought about what her grades and his revisions on her test. He had worn a dark red button up today with suspenders, his blazer off and hair a tiny bit messy. His glasses hung off the end of his nose while he looked up at her with surprise, before a smile came on his face. 

“Y/N! I’m very glad to see you’ve come.” He hummed, sitting up and leaning back in his chair. “Go ahead and make yourself comfortable on the couch. Would you like a water?”  He had a mini fridge in his office. Without listening to an answer, he pulled one out anyways and handed it to her, rounding the desk so he seemed less scary. The desk was a position of power. One he loved, but also didn’t want to take advantage of when Y/N obviously was terrified of it. “Alright. So... you’ve seen my revisions?” He sat on the other arm chair across from the couch, glasses pushed up now with his copy of her paper. “Good. What do you think about your mistakes? Were they because you didn’t understand the material, or didn’t know what to say in paper?”

Y/N gave him a small smile, setting her skate board up against the side wall before taking a seat on the couch. No amount of weed could have calmed her down, she wasn’t even that high anymore it was just the residual feeling. Right now, she was more concerned about having to tell him what was going on inside her mind when she was working on assignments. 

“I—I um... both?” She felt a blush creeping in on her cheeks. “I tried to like... watch videos about it, cause whenever I try to read I just get frustrated.” Y/N explained fiddling with the paper. She didn’t like this feeling, it was obvious that it was something that made her emotional which was why she didn’t really talk about it. She let out a breath, looking over what she wrote and seeing all the red pen. It made her want to crawl up into a ball despite how nice he was being. He was trying and so she would also try her best to keep it together. “I find it really hard to focus..”

“I don’t doubt that you do, Y/N. I’m thinking that maybe this isn’t something to do with your focus, but maybe it’s with your reading? You could learn differently than other people and that's absolutely alright.” Harry felt poorly that she was so sad and embarrassed about it. “Look at me.” When she didn’t respond he was trying a different tactic. Soft but very obviously meaning business. “There we are. Now, this doesn’t mean you’re stupid or unable to learn or do well in my class. You just may need to learn differently.” He stood up and grabbed a book from his shelf. “So this book— I got it online. It has some illustrations in it, and I find they’re pretty self explanatory. Maybe this will help you understand it better. Having an image opposed to words in your mind.” He handed it to her. She didn’t need to know he had bought it himself.

Y/N glanced up at him as he told her to look at him, seeing his face go much softer but his eyes still held that same intensity. She followed his with her eyes as he went to get the book. It was much thicker than the others due to all the illustrations but of course it made her feel like a little kid again. She just wished she could be normal. 

“Okay...” She said softly, willing to try anything at this point. Of course she was nervous about going forward with his class seeing as she knew things would only get more difficult. Y/N gave him a small thank you as she looked through the book but part of her felt like it wasn’t going to work. No one was determined in helping her learn, they never have been. She’d always gotten very poor, passing grades because she assumed teachers felt bad for her or knew her siblings and assumed maybe she was just the rebellious one. “Sometimes I feel like I do better on the essays, cause I feel like I get it... but I end up getting better grades on the tests than the essays and it’s... disheartening.” She explained with a small frown, “cause I guess on the tests a lot of the time.”

He furrowed his brows, listening to what Y/N had to say. It made sense if she had dyslexia that she would be frustrated and upset with learning altogether but it was important to her and him as well, that she was able to do what she was meant to do. Whatever it was she had wanted. 

“I think you should outline your essays more. Each body paragraph, with reasoning and thought. Come up with 4 to 6 reasons for each, word them how it makes sense to you, and write it that way. The structure taught isn’t the only way to do it.” He explained. Writing down on a piece of notebook paper an example of how she could do it. “I know it must be very frustrating— especially if it’s been years that you’ve had to deal with this. I understand. But I do have faith that you’re able to do this. You are intelligent, Y/N. You just have to figure out the right way to show it.”

Y/N let out a sigh, swallowing thickly as he gave her some advice on how to structure her essays in a way that would make more sense. She would try her best, especially with knowing that he was going to be grading things knowing what her situation was. Y/N was going to try her best to sound smart or collected, but she will admit she hadn’t been paying attention for years. 

She pulled out a folder of her English work, pulled out the notes she had taken and the lay out for her essays and bit the inside of her lip. Y/N handed it to him and immediately went to pay with her own fingers. Observing him as he looked through what she had done previously. 

“I—I try my best, I really do.. but anytime I get the courage to try it just gets worse and I go back to not trying at all because at least then I know I’m failing cause I’m doing it on purpose and not cause I’m stupid.” Y/N was trying to share her feelings to try and make him understand. “‘s really intimidating being in class with people who pick up information easily and I end up just tuning out cause it’s too fast for me to follow... and I don’t want to be that one girl that holds up the whole class with a stupid question.”

“You aren’t. If you have a question that you aren’t comfortable asking in front of everyone, you are always welcome to email me or come to my office at any time I’m here.” Harry promised. Poor girl. Jesus, what happened to her to make her self esteem like this? “You are very capable. Very much a smart girl. You need to tap into different areas of your brain. I promise, we can get your grade up together, alright?” He felt softness and fondness because he knew that sometimes professors weren’t the most understanding. Granted, he was only like this towards students that came for help— and oddly, even more so towards her, but still. “You don’t have to stop trying. You just need a different approach and we can help you find the right one. Do you like movies?” He suddenly remembered that. At her confused look, he continued. “Movies are scripts. Books. Visual. Do you find it easy to follow along with movies?”

She found it hard to believe him because no one really called her smart, ever. Y/N gave him a small smile and nodded her head, pushing pieces of hair away from her face before nodding and realizing she reversed the work she’d just done. He was a very nice man, it was clear that he was committed to helping her and it was definitely appreciated. She just didn’t know why he believed in her so much when no one else did? 

“Well yeah... I can follow conversation and stuff.” Y/N let out a small chuckle, sniffling a bit before she continued. “I think another problem is I get too confused about things like.. the deeper meaning stuff in books. Like the themes and whatever you call it. Cause in my head I know what I think it means but then it’s meant to mean something else and then I think I just didn’t understand correctly.” Y/N was definitely more of a creative. She didn’t like following set rules, she liked going with the flow and following her own thing. It worked when it came to her music, she was able to focus then. But she taught herself guitar.

“I think that you need to first take the book at face value. Don’t look for the hidden meanings the first time you read because it will confuse you more.” Harry cleared his throat. She smelled really good. Like peaches and citrus. He wondered if her bed smelled like that, but stronger. 

“Tell me some things you like.” He leaned back into the seat. “Things you think we can connect to projects. You said you’re in a band? Have a band?” He remembered that from last time. At her nod he continued. “You can find a song or make a playlist of songs that connect your head to the book. Say... Romeo and Juliet. Hmm.. check yes Juliet, We The Kings. If you’ve heard of that. You can find songs that help you remember.”

“Yeah, I’m in a band.” Y/N nodded her head a bit at him, “it’s like a indie punk thing...” She wasn’t sure what kind of music he listened to but he seemed young enough to think that indie music was good. Who knows, maybe he was one of those jazz guys with all the sweaters he wears. Y/N wasn’t one to judge though. The check yes Juliet reference made her chuckle, remembering middle school and highschool momentarily. He couldn’t be that much older then. “Yeah, I know that song.” She giggled and shook her head, “but yeah, I understand.” She spoke and took note of that in her mind. Y/N didn’t know how she was meant to explain to him that she spent the rest of her free time doing drugs. Tripping and writing music, hanging out with her kitty. That’s about it. Skating, going out in nature. Fucking. She definitely was a bit of a nympho. She assumed it was because of her need for attention.

“Okay. That’s good then. Use that to try and correlate.” He had felt weird watching her leave the room, seemingly in a better mood than she had been before but still nervous. It didn’t help that he hadn’t gotten laid and didn’t really want to have sex with someone else right now. God, if only he could spread her open and dip his cock into her soft cunt. That’s something he was dreaming of. 

He thought about it the next night too. So, with his bored and needy thoughts, he went home and did his chores he needed to do, before he went to lay in his bed with his laptop. To be honest. Most porn didn’t do it for him. He much preferred erotic writing or even more so, cam girls. Sex workers deserved support and he always tipped well, though rarely talking in any of them. He was scrolling down the alternative tab when he found what he was looking for. Tattoos and plump lips, tits for a profile photo and a tongue sticking out. Interesting— and she was live. 

He just never expected the exact woman in his head to be placed on the screen, smoke coming from her mouth. 

Fuck.

Y/N wasn’t exactly sure how she thought about starting camming but it all sort of just fell into place. She started off just selling her nudes and videos for attention and money but then she realized that people would pay really good money to watch live stuff. It’s a good thing too because Y/N loved being watched. Her cams were usually regularly scheduled, but other times they were spontaneous because she was really horny. bbybunnie was her username, most people just called her pet names though, never by her actual name for obvious security reasons. She had quite the following too. People seemed to love her content. She was fun and bubbly and she felt like she put in a great show both literally and physically. Y/N had just done a bong rip, having her windows open to let the smoke out. She didn’t like smoking around Jinx so she’d let her in once she was properly stoned. She was dressed in a black crop top that said princess on it in gothic font, fishnets, and little black panties. 

“Been really stressed lately with college and stuff...” Y/N answered a previous question as to what she’d been up to. “Working on assignments in stuff but it gets hard.” She pouted, turning her head when she heard Jinx scratching at the door. “One second.” She giggled and went to grab Jinx, leaving the door open so she could roam. “Here she is, say hi to everyone.” Y/N cooed in a baby voice. It was quite the sight. An alternative girl all soft with her cat, just starting the broadcast. Her vibrator was clearly in frame, already plugged in. A subscriber bought a heavy duty one for her.

And Harry should have clicked off. Right away, he should have exited the screen and said ‘gotta go’ because this was his student. His student he tutored and had fucking come on here to jerk off to a look alike. But he couldn’t. Not finally getting a look at her body. Soft and curved and delicious. Her tits strained the tank top and little tiny panties, some fishnets. Jesus fucking Christ. He let out an audible moan as he watched her sit back on the bed, talking back and forth with some of the comments.

He wasn’t sure what made him comment. 

DaddyH: you look beautiful. I love the fishnets.

She did. And he loved them. A lot of the comments were dirtier but not to the point he could see it turning a woman on. He didn’t get an associates in sexology for nothing.

Y/N was pretty good with responding to comments, they were paying after all, but a lot of them were much nicer than most would think. Her community was used to her streams taking a bit to get going because she liked to get super horny, so once she was properly high she usually talked with her comments about things she’s been fantasizing about and what they’d like to see her do. 

DaddyH. He was new. 

“Hi daddyh, thank you! You’re new aren’t you?” Y/N said with an excited smile, she liked newcomers. It meant someone was interested in her. “Well we’ve got a special show on our hands then.” Her viewers loved when new people came because the shows were always better. She was visibly hornier. She shifted a little bit so she was leaning farther back on her pillows, bringing her legs up and out so she was spreading like a little butterfly. Of course the panties kept things covered but not much. Y/N pulled them up so they were tight on her, “Gotta get me real wet first, yeah?” She hummed, “love knowing you’re watching me... love when you tell me what you like...” It was strategic to talk dirty as if she was talking to one specific person.

Fuck shit motherfucker. Fuck. 

Harry didn’t even see her pussy fully yet and he was nearly drooling. What the fuck had he done in what past life to get this type of luck? He wasn’t sure but he did know that whatever he did, he was thankful. He got a good look at her, her lusty eyes. He was a dirty talker. He loved to sex— fuck the English teacher in him. He loved making women a mess of whines and slick and speaking their darkest fantasies into their ears as the writhe underneath him. Y/N would be a fun one to play with. For sure. 

DaddyH: you could play over the panties. They’re cute.

He had a thing for panties and fishnets, and she was going right to his kinks.

“But that’s no fun.” Y/N pouted at the comment, wiggling her panties a little bit so she could rub against her clit some. She let out a tiny moan and hummed, letting her hands move up her body to squeeze her tits through her shirt. She was properly eye fucking the camera too, teasing as she started to pull up her shirt. “I’m frustrated, daddy...” Usually she waited till she got a certain number of tips before she took her clothes off, but she was only a few dollars away so she pulled off her shirt revealing that she wasn’t wearing a bra. The tightness of the tank top kept them up, but these men seemed to love natural tits. Her hand slipped down to start rubbing over her clit over top her panties, letting out little breathy moans of pleasure. “Really want to be fucked...” She explained, “Wanna be full...” Y/N pouted and quickened her pace. 

“Bent over a desk.”

Harry had a big oak desk he could bend her over and absolutely destroy her. If that’s something she would want. Harry would wreck her. His hand palmed Over his cock as he took her in and looked at her tits. He was an everything man but tits? He could happily suck on hers for an hour and make marks all over, just to listen to her mewl and feel her on his tongue. He squeezed over his sweatpants, feeling himself heat up as he watched her. She was topless, his student. His student was topless and rubbing her clit over tiny little panties, giving a pout and looking at the camera too fucking similar to the way she looked at him in his office today. And while his rational mind knew he wouldn’t be able to look at her the same— he would want to fuck her even more than he had— he couldn’t stop watching.

It was clear that Y/N’s interactions with Harry had spilt over into her mind while she was getting into it. It was that intense stare that he had, his ringed hands, of course there was also the tone of his voice. How he asked her to look at him that one time. She could only imagine him asking her much rougher and in a deeper voice. 

“Daddy...” She whimpered out, teasing her own self over her panties as she read over the comments. Y/N giggled are some, loving he praise if men calling her cute and telling her she was pretty and her moans were turning them on. She went and took off her panties cause she really couldn’t take it anymore, revealing her fishnet covered cunt. “Want a better view, hmm?” Y/N smirked, moving to rip them right over the crotch so everyone could see. “I’m so fuck wet for you... look..” She said all excited, pulling her fingers back to show the strings of wetness on her fingers.

Harry was in heaven. Truly. Or hell, because he wasn’t able to be the one ripping the fishnets up and fucking her in them. Her thighs looked soft and delicate and probably so easily bruised. He could do some incredible work down there. 

DaddyH: Lick it clean, sweetheart. I know it’s sweet.

There was no way she wasn’t so sweet that his teeth would fill with cavities. No way. He wanted her taste all over his tongue. He was a very giving dom, very much eager to make his lovers cum again and again and again so long as they complied with his soft rules. It wasn’t difficult.

Y/N’s stomach filled with warmth as she read over the comment, bringing her fingers to her mouth and sucking on them properly as if they were a cock. She was starting to like the Daddyh character. He was so sweet and polite in his choice of words, paid well. What was there not to like? She removed her fingers from her mouth giggling a little bit as she decided to show off some more. Y/N pushed the laptop back a bit, turning so they could see her ass and how she arched her back for them relieving that she’d had a butt plug in the whole time. Sleek and black with a little gem at the end. A lot of the things she had were gifts from subscribers. She had an Amazon wishlist specifically set up for them as well as a regular P.O. Box that then routed to her home. She had tons of back up fishnets, some used ones she sold online as well. Lots of other things. She quite enjoyed it.

When did she put that in? Harry needed to know. Was she wearing that when she was sat on his fucking couch? He would surely lose his goddamn mind if that was the case. 

He tipped her $50, asking the question he needed the answer to. 

DaddyH: Have you been wearing that all day, pretty girl?

The idea of her squirming in class occurred to him. And then the idea of a little vibrator inside of her that he had the remote to, pressing it on to see her reactions. He would buy her one, fuck. He would buy this girl anything if it meant getting to see her squirm and hear her beg him to let her cum.

Y/N wiggled her bum a bit, turning on her back again with a hum. “I’ve been wearing it all day...” She nodded, reaching over for her vibrator because she really couldn’t wait anymore. Everyone who streamed her knew she was impatient, sometimes if they paid a good amount she’d wait and tease herself first but she was needy today. She just kept thinking about professor Styles. “‘m so needy... been so horny lately, might be on for a while.” Y/N blushed, “or I’ll film some special requests on my onlyfans...” She smirked because she knew she would get lots of money for men begging her to stay but loads for custom content too. Y/N turned the vibrator on it’s lowest setting, starting to move it down on to her cunt where she let out a pleaser sigh. “I wanna cum so bad... just wanna cum.” She pleaded, reading to see what everyone was saying. Y/N turned it up a few notches, letting out a content sigh as she moved it over a specific spot. The feeling was indescribable and the noises that left her just showed how relieved she was.

Harry nearly fell over. Her ass was stuffed when she sat on his couch— and it wasn’t from his cock. Harry particularly loved anal, it was a very hot thing to him and the fact she hadn’t been warming his cock like that was near criminal. Truly. 

“Sweet Jesus.” He breathed, finally taking himself out of his pants. Spitting thick on to the head, he spread it over his cock and waited for her to continue. She had an onlyfans? He would be subscribing and buying content. He didn’t give a fuck. He wanted it and it would be the best way to keep her close but far. He was watching how her legs trembled and her mouth fell open at the feeling, her body arching into the buzzing of the vibrator. Oh, how he would hold it against her and finger her until she squirted all over the bed and make her clean it up with her tongue. He was a sexual man but kinky more than anything. The idea of it all... it was so hot and wrong and taboo and it was even better in his cock’s mind that she was a no go zone. Made it hotter. 

DaddyH: you’ve got such a pretty pussy. How many times can you cum?

Y/N read his comment and let out a whine, turning up the vibrator a few settings higher once again so she could get even closer to her brink of orgasm. “Let’s find out.” She breathed out and continued to crank up the settings. The closer she got the more she thrashed and bucked her hips both up and away from the vibrator. She was very enjoyable to watch she’s been told, specifically because she just couldn’t keep her mouth shut and that she was willing to take a lot. Y/N must have sat there for a few hours just making herself cum over and over again, both with the vibrator and the dildo she had. Once she was all fucked out, 5 orgasms deep, she just laid there and watched the comments roll in. She giggled at a few, breathing heavily as she slowly walked herself down from the blissful headspace she was in. “Thank you, I’m feeling so much better...” Y/N cooed, giving them a smile. “Have a good day or night!” And with that she’d logged off, happy that she had made a new regular.

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

[part 2]

A/N: bet you weren’t expecting that huh? 😈 and yes!! punk!y/n - n + d

let us know what you think!

masterlist

#writing #harry styles smut #professor!harry #professor!h #harry styles one shot #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfiction

[bruhlsbees]

sweet disposition ; 3/? || modern!alex kerner x fem!professor!reader

summary: after a month of not speaking, you finally approach alex

pairing: modern!alex kerner x fem!professor!reader

warnings: wet dream, teacher/student fantasy, smut, virginity loss, almost car sex, mommy kink, this one really is just a smut fest, 18+, minors dni, nsfw

word count: 8,880

a/n: hope y'all are buckled in for this one - this one might be messy just cause i'm half awake posting this so i might go back and clean it up tomorrow

One month.

One lousy fucking month it had been since you and Alex stopped talking. He wanted to say that he had been doing good, say that he had forgotten about you and could look you in the eyes and tell you to shove off for how you reacted. But even then, even after everything, he knew deep down he still wouldn’t be able to.

Alex had kept himself busy though throughout February and the beginning few days of March. He picked up more hours at work and hung out with Denis and his new girlfriend, Lara, more. Alex never would admit it to Denis, cause he would hate to see how upset Denis would get, but he hated being the third wheel. Why was it that Denis could get a girl and Alex couldn’t even find someone attractive? Well, other than you that is.

He also gravitated towards drinking more. Alex found himself drinking at least two beers when he got home and another before going to bed. It was bad to say, he knew that, but it helped dull the pain he had in his chest. Dare he say, a heart break? No - that was just silly to say, how could he be heartbroken over someone that he hardly knew?

But whether Alex would admit it or not, he was heartbroken. He found himself becoming desperate, wandering into the English department one day and towards your office. He wasn’t going to bother you, he just wanted to see how you were doing. You were with a student at the time, a guy probably a year or two younger than himself. You were smiling and laughing at whatever the student was telling you and it sent a boil into Alex’s chest.

It wasn’t until he saw you grab the student’s hand that he was sent into a rage. Turning around on his heels, Alex headed back down the hall with a huff, his footsteps heavy as he stomped away to leave, making it to the entranceway for that side of the office before coming to a stop at the sound of his voice.

Turning around, he glared at the sight of Professor Thorne coming out of his office, looking down at Alex with a frown, “Hey, Alex. You okay?” Rolling his eyes, Alex knew that the last person he wanted to speak with then was Professor Thorne, although if he were to just turn and walk away, that would just start an entirely new ordeal that Alex didn’t have room to deal with at the moment.

“Yeah, peachy.” Alex said through gritted teeth. Before he could ask what he wanted though, Professor Thorne beat Alex to it.

“Okay…” He began, not entirely believing him, but also not caring enough to press on. “Listen, you’re the only one who hasn’t met with me yet to discuss your senior project. Do you have time tomorrow to meet with me? I gotta know where you’re at and see if there is anything I can help you with.”

There was a reason Alex hadn’t met with him yet - it was because he was still getting over whatever it was he told you back in January. Alex still wanted to beat him up, but he knew that he couldn’t - since he was his professor and everything.

But Alex knew that this was part of his grade, meeting with him to discuss his progress. He found it so painful to even answer, but finally he did.

“Yeah, sure, whatever. I can come into your office hours tomorrow.”

Taking a step forward, Professor Thorne clapped Alex’s shoulder, “Great! I’ll see you tomorrow then?”

Before Thorne could get another word out, Alex was already turning and going out of the department to leave for the day.

⋆ ⋆ ⋆

“Okay class, thanks for the great discussion today! As you’re looking over your critiques from me on your past project, feel free to contact me if you have any questions, alright? If I don’t hear from you I’ll assume you’re satisfied with your grade.”

The class began to pack up, shuffling down the steps of the auditorium and out the exit doors to head to their next classes or wherever it was they went afterwards. You became distracted by your own critique grade, the bold letters in red stating ‘SEE ME AFTER CLASS’ hitting you in the face like a brick. You thought you had done so well on that past project, but it seemed as though the professor thought otherwise.

When you approached his desk, he was finishing his conversation with another student, who proudly talked about how he would be sending his film in for a contest sometime this week.

“That’s great to hear, Jaxon! You’ll have to let me know how it goes.” Jaxon nodded his head, turning towards you and smiled shyly, waving awkwardly before excusing himself from the class. When the door clicked shut, you cleared your throat to get the professor’s attention.

“Excuse me, Professor Kerner? You asked to see me about my project?” It was more so of a clarification than a question, although your timidness would make others think otherwise. You stood in front of his desk, watching as he looked up from his laptop with a smile.

“Yes, of course. Do you have time to discuss this in my office? I believe there is another class in here shortly after us and I’d hate to be interrupted.” Before you could answer him, though, he was already on his feet, packing the desk up.

“S-Sure! Yeah, I have time. I don’t have anything else going on today.” Your mouth twitched into a smile, cheeks growing red as you watched him round the desk, standing beside you with his hand on your back.

“Shall we?”

It didn’t take long to get to his office, going to the third floor where the English department resided. You kept on his heels, not wanting to get lost as classes dismissed and professors frantically went from the hall and into their offices or vice versa. You nearly ran into one of the professors on your way to Professor Kerner’s office.

But when you finally stepped through the door and into his office, you let out a sigh of relief, closing your eyes to catch your breath before the sound of the door shutting caught your attention.

Turning, you watched as Professor Kerner set his things down on his desk, motioning towards the round table in the middle, “Please, have a seat. I just need to get my laptop out.”

You sat down at the table, your backpack resting beside you while the graded critique laid in front of you. You weren’t sure what to do with your hands suddenly and found yourself toying with the corner of the paper. It didn’t take him long before he sat across from you, slipping his jean jacket off and throwing it behind him and into the open chair at his desk.

“Professor, I’m sorry if my project didn’t meet the require-”

“Alex.” He said suddenly cutting you off from your apology.

Furrowing your eyebrows, you looked up from the empty spot at the table and up at him, “Pardon?”

He laughed, shaking his head before opening his laptop to pull open your project. “Alex. My name. Call me that when we’re in here. I do have a name, not just Professor.” He teased you, glancing up at you to see your reaction.

He was so smooth with his words, maybe that’s why his screenwriting unit was so good - it’s cause he knew how words were supposed to flow. You nodded your head slow, blinking as you tried to recollect your thoughts.

“Okay, Alex...I’m sorry if my project didn’t meet the requirements in the rubric. I really thought I did a go-”

“What makes you think you didn’t?”

Your mouth snapped shut as he interrupted you again, this time your face growing red with annoyance rather than from the suaveness of his words. If he let you finish your sentence, maybe he’d know what you were trying to ask him.

But you didn’t get the chance to then, he turned his laptop towards you and began to play your project, continuing on while the video played in the background.

“You’re not a film student, are you?” He asked, leaning forward to rest his chin on his hands. You shook your head, “No, I’m an English Literature major.”

He nodded once before moving to hit the spacebar on his laptop, pausing the video before looking back at you. “I can tell...but that shouldn’t be taken badly - what I mean by that is your work shows it. You think out of the box with assignments compared to the traditional route.”

You shrugged your shoulders, blushing as you stared at him. “I just did what I felt was right.”

The answer seemed to satisfy him, although there was a flicker of something darker that hit his eyes. You leaned back in your chair and moved your hands towards you, picking at the loose threads in your jeans.

“Is there a reason you wanted to see me, Professor?” You watched as he stared at you for another moment before standing up, walking over to the door of his office, looking out the window before shutting the blinds and locking the door. He stuffed his hands into his pockets before turning back to look at you.

“I want you to show me how you got some of those shots. Please, get out your camera.”

As he sat back down in his chair, he moved it back to sit out from under the table, his legs spreading out wide as his hands rested on his thighs. You weren’t sure where this was leading, but you had a sinking suspicion that there was more to it than just showing him how you got some shots.

You stood up from your own seat, holding the camera in your hands as you slowly made your way to him, standing in front of him while looking down at him, your face red.

“So I...um, I don’t zoom in unless I have to. If your subject works with you, you shouldn’t have a problem getting a tight shot of their face without them getting distracted.” You explained, your grip on your camera tightening.

Alex nodded his head and smiled, motioning for you to step closer, “Well then, why don’t you show me? I’m more of a visual learner myself.” He explained, his hands running up and down his thighs.

For a brief second you didn’t move, your brain not sure with what to do. It’s not that you were uncomfortable, it just felt like a weird dream - a really weird sexual fantasy that you knew you shouldn’t be having.

“I, Professor, I'm sorry, but I have to go. I have something coming u-”

“It’s Alex, remember? And you told me that you didn’t have anything after class...were you lying to me?” He questioned, sitting up straighter as he stared you down. The look he was giving you wasn’t sinister necessarily, but it sent a shiver down your spine.

“No, Professor, I just forgot-”

But before you could get the sentence out, you felt his hand on your wrist, pulling you to him until you were settled on his lap, only inches from his face. You tried to get comfortable, but it was hard when you felt his obvious erection under your leg.

“Come now, don’t get shy on me now. Why don’t you turn that camera on and show me what I asked you to?” His hand was now on your waist, holding you down on his lap so you wouldn’t run off. You found yourself giving in, nodding your head as you turned your camera on and brought it up to your face, watching through the screen.

It was hard to stay focused, your hands shaking which made the quality of the shot blurry, almost impossible to identify what you were looking at. You knew that Alex could tell that you were struggling and took the camera from you gently, holding it away from you as he pushed his fingers under your shirt, running his fingertips up your side.

“Oh that’s just not going to work now, is it? You’re far too shaky,” He paused a moment, tilting his head before his crooked grin spread, “Why don’t you get on your pretty little knees for me and guide me through with what you mean, yeah?”

Whether you wanted to protest or not, he was already coaxing you down on your knees in front of him, sitting up as he pointed the camera on you, the lens right in your face. “Good, now be a good girl and help me out, yeah?”

But before anything happened, Alex was woken up by the sounds of sirens coming from outside his window. Jolting awake, Alex found himself panting from the sudden alarm that was going off outside along with the intense dream he was having. He sat up, sitting forward to look out his window and saw two cop cars sitting outside the club. Rolling his eyes, Alex fell back into his bed, not caring to watch and see what drunken fool was getting tossed out.

As he laid on his back, rubbing his face to wake himself up, he felt a sudden breeze hit his thighs. Looking down, he scoffed at the outrageous tent in his boxers, his dick standing straight up. He reached his hand up and onto the top of his dick, feeling that his precum had already soaked through.

He hooked his fingers at the waistband of his boxers and pulled them down, shimming out of them before kicking them onto the floor, his dick now proudly standing up. He wrapped his right hand around the base of him, squeezing himself once before beginning to pump, avoiding his swollen head that was still leaking.

A groan escaped his lips as his head fell back, his left hand reaching down to squeeze his balls that were growing tight. God, why did he have to have such a good dream just to be cut off before the good stuff even happened? When he closed his eyes, picturing you on top of him, your breasts bouncing in his face, his mouth fell open with a moan escaping - so faint that it almost sounded like a whine. His pace quickened as he began to stroke himself harder, his hips rocking in his hands as his toes began to curl.

It didn’t take him long to finish, already painfully close when he woke up. He flinched when he felt his own seed hit him in the face, cringing at the warm feeling that now began to roll down down his lips and chin, spilling onto his chest.

“Fuck…” He breathed, catching his breath as he laid in his bed, regaining his focus before deciding that he needed to go take a shower before it dried out on him. Swinging his legs over the side of his bed, he held his hand at his stomach so nothing fell and hit the carpet - a mess he did not want to clean up.

⋆ ⋆ ⋆

Alex was dragging that morning, moving painfully slow to get around and meet with Professor Thorne that morning. It was his day off from work and the last thing he wanted to do was go and meet with him about his senior project. Alex hadn’t even begun to think of his project for class and time was running out. He had just about two months left before it was due - he knew he had time, but deep down Alex knew that he was panicking just a little.

He didn’t bother to wear anything nice - throwing on an old shirt from high school and a pair of faded jeans. It was cold that morning, so he decided it would be best to wear his jean jacket on his ride to campus. Alex could only hope that it would be sufficed.

It didn’t take him long to get onto campus, traffic not as busy as he imagined it would be that morning. He parked in his usual spot, taking his helmet off and sticking it inside the storage compartment under the seat of his scooter. He pulled out his bag, locked up the storage, and headed into the building and to Professor Thorne’s office.

By the time he arrived he noticed that Professor Thorne was just walking in. He looked tired, like he was hungover. Alex couldn’t help the smirk that came to face. He knew it was wrong, but seeing Professor Dick having a rough time only made Alex’s day better. As Alex approached his office, he glanced to his left and noticed your office light on, the door opened. His heart sank, wishing that he could be over there instead of here.

“I wouldn’t bother, she’s been in a piss mood all semester.”

Turning, Alex frowned as Professor Thorne sat at the table, pulling out a notebook while a cup of coffee rested in his hands. He took a long sip, sighing before his eyes looked up at Alex, motioning for him to come in. “Please, come in.”

He didn’t have to be told twice. Walking in, Alex tossed his bag on the ground before settling in the chair across from Thorne, looking down at the notebook to see if he could read what was written. Alex failed to make out anything, noticing how sloppy the handwriting was, before looking up ahead of him at Thorne.

“So, you have about two months left before the end of your semester and your senior project is due. Have you started it yet? You can be honest.” Alex watched as Thorne began to scribble some notes down next to Alex’s name, he assumed that he would be taking notes on what his project plans were.

“I haven’t, no,” Alex cleared his throat and sat up a bit in his seat, “I’ve been busy with work and it’s just kind of slipped my mind. I planned on starting it this weekend though since I have it off from work.” He wouldn’t have been surprised if Thorne was angry with his answer, but to his surprise he wasn’t and just nodded his head, writing down what he said.

“And have you given it any thought as to how you are going to approach the project theme?”

He hadn’t. The theme wasn’t challenging, but it wasn’t something that Alex had ever worked on before. He enjoyed filming rather basic ideas - news reporters, nature...things like that. Filming something that answers the question of ‘how would your life change if you had the number one thing you wanted’ was so out there for Alex that he couldn’t even wrap his brain around what it was that he wanted.

Shrugging his shoulders, Alex crossed his arms over his chest, “Maybe something to do with school? I don’t know, graduating and getting a job.” It was this answer that Thorne stopped in his tracks for. Looking up, he frowned at Alex, his head tilted to the side.

“That’s what you’re going to do? Alex...come on now,” He set his pencil down and copied Alex’s posture, leaning back with his arms crossed over his chest. “I think it’s quite obvious that we don’t like each other all that much, but I would be lying if I said you weren’t one of my favorite students. You’re better than picking a path so simple that a freshman could do it. I want you to think outside of the box. It’s your senior project, I expect senior quality.”

It came to a surprise for Alex to hear that he was one of Thorne’s favorite students. Alex knew that the two weren’t fond of one another, but even so Thorne still enjoyed Alex and his work. Alex, never caring for what Thorne thought of him, felt a weird pain in his chest - was Alex for the first time actually feeling bad for letting him down in some way? No, no not a chance in Hell. Not until pigs flew across the sky.

“I’ll make it senior quality, Professor. That you don’t have to worry about.” Alex replied back flatly. At his response, Thorne nodded and scribbled something down on the notebook before closing it.

“Good, because these are going to be shown at the department celebration at the end of the semester and I expect that you will have the best one there.” Alex nodded his head in understandment, letting out a sigh before looking up at Thorne.

“Was that all that you wanted to discuss?”

Nodding, Thorne watched as Alex stood up, grabbing his bag and turning to leave before stopping in the doorway at the sound of Thorne’s voice.

“If you happen to run into her, would you let her know that I miss her?” He asked suddenly. Alex was glad that his back was facing Thorne, so that he didn’t see him roll his eyes in disgust.

“Yeah, sure.” He answered, although he had no intentions of doing so. Thorne nodded, smiling sadly before he rolled the chair over to his desk, “Thanks, Alex. If you don’t mind, can you shut the door on your way out?”

And he did. As he walked out of his office, he shut the door behind him and took a step to go down the hall before freezing in his tracks. At the end of the hall, only a few feet in front of him, was you - standing with a cup of coffee in your hand and a half-eaten muffin in the other.

It was the first time since January that the two of you had crossed paths. To say that it was uncomfortable was an understatement.

“Good morning, Professor.” Alex greeted casually, trying to not make the interaction anymore awkward than it had to be.

“Alex, hello. How has your semester been?” You felt your throat tighten at the question - you knew how it was going for him, you didn’t even have to ask, because your semester had been going the same.

He shrugged his shoulders, adjusting the strap of his bag on his shoulder. “As good as it can be, I suppose,” At first he didn’t want to say anything more, his own anger building up inside of him. But he could see it on your face, the guilt that was eating you away. Did you feel bad for shooing him off? The next words came out so fast, that Alex didn’t even have time to stop himself.

“You look really good. I suppose you’ve been having a good year?” He asked, his mouth twitching at the sound of your laugh. Alex didn’t know how much he had missed that sound until hearing it just then.

“I’m glad to hear that someone thinks so. After my birthday it seems like I really started showing my age,” He titled his head to the side in confusion before you rolled your eyes, laughing it off. “I turned thirty-three last weekend. Trust me when I say, once you hit thirty, it all goes down.”

Alex smiled, watching as you tried so obviously to not think too much on the fact that you just had another birthday. “Well if it means anything, I don’t think you look a day over twenty-six,” His own cheeks went pink at the sight of you blushing, your eyes dropping down to the ground, mumbling a thanks. “Did you do anything fun for your birthday?”

Shaking your head, you looked up with a sigh, “Besides the bottle of wine? No, no I just graded papers, drank a little too much, and went to bed. You know, the boring adult life.”

It made Alex frown a little, knowing that your birthday had passed and you didn’t do anything fun. Would it be inappropriate to ask if you wanted to catch up over coffee? As a late birthday celebration? Probably, but he didn’t care. Right now, he was just in the moment and didn’t want to think about all the wrongs of what was going on between them, or at least what he wanted to have happen between them.

He opened his mouth to ask what you were doing, but the words seemed to get lost going out, nothing coming out before he finally clamped his mouth shut, deciding against it. “Well, maybe you and your friends will be able to do something fun this weekend? A late celebration is better than none at all…” Alex paused and watched as you nodded, taking a bite of your muffin. “Well, I should get going. It was- it was nice to see you. I hope the rest of your semester goes well.”

You smiled weakly and nodded, “You too,” You replied, mouth muffled by the muffin. Your attention turned as he walked around you, heading to leave before you found yourself speaking, “Alex?” You asked suddenly, gaining his attention to stop and turn around at you, a confused expression on his face.

“Are you free tonight? Would you want to go get a drink and maybe catch up?” You felt your cheeks grow red and cleared your throat, trying to be casual about it, “I, I realize that I was a bit brash on you earlier this semester, and I’m sorry, but I’d like to think that since you aren’t my student, that it would be fine.”

You weren’t sure if he’d agree, as his expression fell blank. He was probably thinking - but was he thinking of how to turn you down or what to snap at you? Either way, you would have deserved it. He didn’t deserve to get the short end of the stick that you gave him, he was just being a kind person - you were the one over thinking things. As far as you knew, he wasn’t the type of student to go after a teacher in that way.

But he surprised you, and when he agreed - all you could do was smile. “O-Oh! Great! Lovely, would you like to meet outside the Blue Fox around eight? It’s the club down the road from me...I sort of got banned from the Sour Apple so I’m a regular there now.” You admitted, watching as Alex’s eyes went wide, a laugh escaping from you.

“Banned? What did you do?” He asked and you shook your head. Alex grinned at you and shook his head back, “Oh no, you can’t just drop that bombshell on me and then expect me to not ask what happened. Come on, you can tell me.”

And you did, over a basket of mozzarella sticks that night at the Blue Fox. The entire time Alex couldn’t contain himself at your ridiculous story that led to you not being able on the premise. How it led to you grading papers on your thirty-third birthday.

“Wait, wait, so you jumped him?” Alex questioned, laughing as he looked at you, grinning as you shook your head, setting the bottle of beer you were nursing back on the bar.

“Not entirely...I was drunk and dancing on the bar and he kept pestering me to get down. Well something happened behind him and when he turned, I took the chance and jumped on his back,” You couldn’t hold back your own laughs now, shaking your head as Alex grabbed your arm, his head falling back to laugh. “So technically I jumped on him...but I didn’t jump him.”

Rolling his eyes, Alex pulled his hand away from you to grab another stick from the basket, pouring an obscene amount of marinara sauce on before stuffing it into his mouth, nearly choking on the cheese as he swallowed too quickly. “Either way, you got banned from the Sour Apple because you were drunk and dancing on the bar...man, wish I was there to see that. Seems like a great way to end the big thirty-two-”

Before you let him get the last word out, you sent a punch to his arm, grinning as he fake groaned, nudging you back before he licked his fingers, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. You weren’t sure if it was the marinara he just barely missed off his face, or the fact that he had been the first person to show you an ounce of kindness in the past month - but either way, you found yourself looking at him as something more than just a student, but Alex. Was this feeling right? No, but for once your brain didn’t try and analyze the situation and let your heart take the lead.

“Listen...again, I’m really sorry for before. I don’t know what came over me to snap at you like I did. All you were doing was showing me kindness and I freaked out. The truth is, between Professor Thorne and I - he’s been trying to get me to go out with him for a while now, and that night I snapped at him because he was accusing me of sleeping around with you,” You laughed at how ridiculous it was to say out loud, “When you took care of me that night I was so embarrassed at how bad I got that night. Usually I’m not the one who needs to be taken care of, and when I found out it was a student of mine that I had known for not even a full two days, well, you can see where I came from.”

You jumped slightly when you felt Alex touch your shoulder, smiling at you before carefully moving his hand to your face, tucking some hair behind your ear to uncover your face. “I get it...now at least. I didn’t back then, and I spent the last month so angry, but now that you’ve told me, it feels like a big weight has been lifted off my shoulders,” He took his other hand and gently turned your face to look at him, staring into each other’s eyes, “You deserve someone better Professor Thorne. That’s why I pressed on so much about him...because I didn’t want you to give in. You deserve someone better, someone like, like-”

“Like you?”

It came out so smoothly it almost felt right. You could tell Alex was taken back by what you had told me because his body retracted back slightly, although his hands still rested on your face. A sad smile spread across his face as he caressed your face for a moment before pulling away.

“No, someone even better.”

Turning back towards the bar, Alex picked his beer up and took a good few sips before settling it back down. You didn’t mean to upset him more, and you wondered if your comment about seeing someone like him made him uncomfortable. He wasn’t though, but you didn’t know, what was going through his head was how head over heels he was for you, and how he finally figured out what he wanted his senior project to be.

How would Alex’s life change if he had the number one thing he wanted? Well for starters, what was it that he wanted so badly? It was you. You. Perhaps it was love at first sight, or whatever cheesy trope this was between the both of you, but he realized that what he wanted was you. And it wasn’t just you in the sense of having drinks and going back to fuck, no, what he wanted was to share the rest of his life with you. Be there for you to rub your feet after work, cook meals together, and tell you every day just how beautiful you were.

So how would his life change? That he wasn’t quite sure on. All he knew was that he wanted you and he’d be damned if he went his entire life without you.

The music shifted from a mainstream flop that repeated every hour in the club and to a slower, more heavier bass song. Watching as those on the floor began to slow their movements, pulling close to their partners, you smiled and glanced at Alex, who was watching too.

“Alex? Would you like to dance?” You were elated when he grinned, nodding his head eagerly before standing up, extending his hand out to help you up before pulling you to the dancefloor. He suddenly wasn’t sure where to put his hands, not wanting to overstep his boundaries. However, you figured that it would just be best to take control of the situation - pulling his hands behind you, you positioned them on your lower back, running your hands up his arms to wrap around his neck.

The blue lights illuminated across his face, alternating with the white light that swayed the other way in the room. It could be a real eyesore at times, but right now, you didn’t even pay attention, all your attention went ahead of you to Alex. Even under the club’s spotlights, you could still tell his sweet face was blushing.

As the two of you rocked hips together, swaying to the beat of the song, you couldn’t help but stare up at him, your fingers moving now across his jawline and to his lips, taking in how soft his skin was. There wasn’t a single wrinkle on his face, hardly any blemishes either - he was perfect.

You suddenly felt conscious with being so close to him and went to move back but was caught to stay in place, feeling Alex’s grip on your waist to hold you in place. “Don’t...you’re beautiful.” He said lowly, moving his hand to cup the side of your face.

Nobody leaned in first - it was so insync that it was like you both mentally had said something to one another. When your lips met, it was almost perfect how well your lips meshed. It would’ve been completely perfect if Alex’s eagerness didn’t get the best of him and knocked his teeth against your’s - even then though, you didn’t care.

You only pulled away when you needed to catch your breath, and when you realized just how many people were watching, hooting and hollering you guys on, you could only laugh and shake your head, covering your face for a moment before looking back up at him. Standing on your toes, you grabbed the front of his shirt and pulled him until your lips met his ear - at this point all teacher codes of ethics out the window.

“You wanna get out of here? My car is out back.” You pulled away to see his expression, hoping that he was on the same page as you. When his smile turned into a bigger grin, nodding his head eagerly, you pulled him behind you, him keeping up like a lost puppy.

When you got to your car you fumbled in your jacket to find the keys, biting down on your bottom lip to stop yourself from moaning out as Alex stood behind you, pressing himself up against you as he kissed down your neck. At the sound of the doors unlocking, you turned and grabbed him by the front of his shirt again, spinning him around and pushing him back in the backseat of your car, crawling in after him and locking the car up.

It only took a matter of seconds before he was on you again, holding you down onto his lap as he kissed your lips feverishly, almost desperately. You didn’t mind though, you knew it was so sudden and in the moment that you wouldn’t be taking your time with this. Your hands rested on his neck, keeping his head tilted up as you nipped at his bottom lip, kissing down his face and along his jawline.

“I haven’t had car sex in forever,” You breathed, leaning back to unbutton your shirt. You tried to ignore how hard Alex was staring at you, his chest rising and falling. You wondered if he had ever done something like this before, “You ever have car sex?” You asked, slipping off your blouse and setting it beside you, sitting in his lap now with just your bra on.

He wished that you had nothing on, but given the location, he could get by with having you just have your blouse off. He leaned forward and couldn’t help himself, kissing the tops of your breasts that spilled out of your bra. Sucking dark bruises across your chest before he finally shook his head.

“No,” He explained, his hands moving behind your bra to try and unhook it. He was struggling and his face rested in between your breasts, groaning in frustration. Should he tell you the truth? That it wasn’t just a car he hadn’t had sex in...but sex at all. “I’m kind of...kind of a virgin.” He mumbled against your skin.

You didn’t mean to push him back the way you did, but it came off so sudden that it threw you off. Looking down at him, you held an expression of bewilderment, “You’re...you’re a virgin?”

Now he looked just embarrassed, a frown on his face as he looked down, nodding his head. Did you not want to do it with him anymore? Now that you knew he was a virgin? Of course that wasn’t the case, but you weren’t going to let him lose his virginity in the back of your car. He deserved better than that. You grabbed his cheeks and pushed his head up, smiling at how cute he looked with squished cheeks. Leaning forward, you kissed him once before pulling away.

“I don’t care, okay? But I’m not gonna take away your virginity in the back of a car in some club parking lot,” You looked around the backseat before grabbing a sweatshirt from the very back, slipping it on over you to get out without exposing anymore - not wanting to bother with the buttons of your blouse, “Come on, I’ll drive us back to my place. It’s only about a mile away.”

Climbing off his lap and into the front seat, you grabbed your keys and started up your car, laughing as Alex struggled to climb into the front, nearly kicking you in the process. When he finally was in the passenger seat, settled in and buckled up, you smiled at him and nodded, driving out of the lot and down the road towards your place.

It took maybe five minutes to get back, not even. When you did you parked out front and got out, grinning as Alex rushed out, following you close behind. You weren’t one to usually bring home guests, so this was all new for you. Your brain began to speed think at everything that could possibly be embarrassing that was lying out. You had the couple stuffed animals in your bed, but maybe he wouldn’t pay too much attention to them. Hopefully he didn’t look too long at the awkward younger photos of you with your family.

When you got up to your apartment, unlocking it and pushing the door open, you stepped off to the side to let him in, smiling shyly as he looked around, a smile on his face.

“Uh, if you could take your shoes off here that’d be great..thanks.” You cringed at how much of a mother you sounded like. The dirt wasn’t going to ruin your carpet and if anything, you probably just made him more embarrassed.

But he didn’t seem to take it too much to heart, mumbling out a quick ‘sorry’ before stepping on the back of his shoes to pull his feet out, setting them by the other shoes you had near the door. Before you forgot, you leaned over and locked the door, looking up at him with a smile on your face. You never realized how much taller he was than you until that very moment.

“So, umm, this really your first time?” You asked, smiling when he laughed. “Yeah, just...never found someone I guess.”

His confession made your heart skip a beat, and the anxiety began to settle. You knew you weren’t bad, but you were a bit out of practice. You wanted it to be good for him and you could only hope that you satisfied him enough. As you nodded your head, you took his hand in your own before beginning to pull him out of the living room and down the hall, into your bedroom.

When you got in your room, you took a step towards him, smiling as you leaned forward, pressing your lips gently to his. He took your face in his hands, holding you tenderly as he kissed you back. As the two of you kissed, you reached down and began to tug his belt off, finding the button of his jeans and undoing them, zipping his pants down and pushing them off.

Alex hissed at the cold air that hit his legs, pulling away from you before he accidentally bit you. You smiled and dropped to your knees, your face only inches away from his dick that still stood up under his boxers. “Alex? Has anyone ever sucked you off?”

He went red almost instantly, his face red as he shook his head, watching as you grabbed him through his boxers, slowly pumping him before taking the sides of his boxers and pulling them down, letting his dick spring up in your face. You sat back, staring ahead as you took him in before hearing him moan from above. You were glad to see that he was enjoying all of this.

“Why don’t you go sit on my bed, I don’t need you falling over, okay? Take your shirt off too.” You didn’t mean to come off so demanding, but you wanted him to get comfortable. You watched as he smiled, nodding before pulling off his shirt and tossing it on the ground beside his boxers and jeans, peeling his socks off too before he sat on the edge of your bed.

On your hands and knees you crawled over to him, settling down between him, grabbing his knees and spreading his legs open. You took him in your hand again and leaned forward to finally take him in your mouth before he stopped you suddenly. Looking up, you watched as he shook his head. Oh great, you were moving too quickly, now you freaked him out.

But that wasn’t it at all. He smiled and pulled at your sweatshirt, motioning at how you were still in all your clothes. Looking down, you scoffed and shook your head before standing up, pulling off your sweatshirt again and unclipped your bra, moving down to your jeans to pull the bottom half of your clothes off. You couldn’t help the grin that spread across your face as he grinned up at you, so lusted over the moment.

When you were back on your knees, you pulled your hair into one hand, holding it back as you prepared yourself for him. Just as your lips were about to touch his tip, you felt his hands in your hair, pulling it back for you so you could have your hands.

Alex was too fucking sweet on you, it made you sick. His gentle movements - holding your hair back, rubbing your back, you almost forgot that this was about him and not you. Looking up to meet his eyes, you kissed his inner thigh before moving your face up, taking his hard dick in your hand before grasping him at the base, your mouth covering him as you pushed your head down until you couldn’t take it any longer.

The moan that escaped Alex as he fell back into your bed was almost too obscene to be real - sounding like it came from one of those horribly made adult films. You grinned around him, sucking him as you began bobbing your head, feeling his hips shift under you, trying to relieve more pressure.

Pulling away with a ‘pop’, you looked up at him as you began to pump his cock, your other hand squeezing his thigh as he sat up, looking down at you. “Fuck...it feels so, so…” He groaned and thrusted into your hand, closing his eyes tight as his hands fell from your hair and down to the sheets, clenching at them as he tried his best not to already finish.

And you knew it was wrong, but your movements began agonizingly slow so suddenly, teasing him as he whined out loud, “So what, Alex? Do you want me to stop?” You smirked a little, watching his face contorted, the feeling becoming too overwhelming for Alex, tears in his eyes.

“No...mommy...I-”

But then your movements did stop. You didn’t mean to, but just like before, he said it so casually that it caught you off guard. He didn’t realize he had even said it until he caught himself saying it again, this time sitting up and opening his mouth, mortified with what he called you.

“I-, oh god, shit, fuck, I-I didn’t mean to call you th-”

Before he had a heart attack, you stood up and leaned forward, kissing him to shut him up. You crouched in front of him, pulling away with a smile. “Alex, shh, it’s fine. Okay?” You had never been called it before, granted you never fucked anyone so much younger than you, but you surprisingly didn’t hate it.

Furrowing his brows, Alex frowned and scooted back for you to rest on his lap, “Really?” You nodded and smiled, wrapping his arms around his neck before kissing him again, “Really, now will you be a good boy and let mommy fuck you?”

Alex swore he had died and gone to Heaven just then. His eyes, lulled down in lust, nodded as you pushed him to lay on his back, climbing onto him fully before beginning to rock yourself onto him, your wet slit running up and down his dick.

“I’m gonna ride you now, okay? It’s gonna be tight so just relax until I adjust before you try anything,” You coaxed, running your hands up and down his chest, watching as he nodded before you reached down and lined him up, sinking down onto him almost instantly.

You both moaned together, your head falling back at how well he filled you up. You didn’t realize how wet he had already made you until he slid into you so easily. You took a minute to adjust to his size before nodding, grabbing his wrists and pulling him to sit up, smiling at how close he was to you now.

“Just tell me what feels good, okay? It’s about you tonight, remember? Not me.” You began to slowly ride him, rising and sinking down onto him as you kissed him, holding his face close to you as his hands rested on your hips, guiding you up and down on him. The slapping noises became louder the wetter you got, and you truthfully didn’t realize you could get that wet.

You could tell he was getting close with how bad he was twitching in you, moaning into your neck now as he buried his face there, you holding his head close. “It’s okay Alex, I got you. You’re doing so good. You’re being a very good boy.” You coaxed, running your fingernails down the back of his neck and spine.

“Mmm, Mommy, I’m gonna cu-”

“Where do you want to cum, baby? Tell me and Mommy will make it happen.” You promised, pushing him back to look down at him, continuing to ride him as your hair now stuck to your sweat covered forehead.

The tears that were in his eyes were now spilling down his cheeks, everything sending Alex overboard with how intense his emotions were. He swallowed the lump in his throat and let out a whine as you asked him again, trying to get him to answer before he finished too quickly.

“I-I wanna cum…” His eyes rolled in the back of his head, grunting as you snapped his hips up into you, panting as he felt your hand on his face, forcing him to look at you and answer you.

“Your tits! I wanna cum on them.” He answered, voice muffled as his cheeks squished together in your hands. You smiled in satisfaction at the answer, nodding before you pushed off him suddenly, whining yourself at the sudden loss of weight in you. You fell to your knees and guided him to stand up, feeling his dick slip between your tits as he fucked them, one hand holding your hair, the other at his side.

You held your own breasts in your hands, pressing them around Alex’s dick as he fucked them, glancing at his free hand as he stroked your face, moving his index finger towards your lips, pushing it between your lips to have you suck on his finger.

And you did, moaning around his finger while his pace quickened, becoming sloppy as he gripped your hair tighter, a little too tight, before suddenly letting go of your hair to grab his dick, pumping it in his hand until his hot spews of cum shot out, coaxing your tits until they were rolling down your chest and stomach.

He didn’t mean to fall, but his knees locked up and he stumbled back onto your bed, panting like he had never panted before, his eyes closed as he tried to regain his focus, ignoring the white specs that danced under his eyelids. You, on the other hand, sat back on the floor, feeling your own climax roll down your thighs, your eyes falling back in your head as you caught your breath.

“That was…” You began, although Alex beat you to the punch.

“Really fucking good.” You could hear how satisfied he was and you could only giggle, nodding in agreement before sitting up slightly, “Yeah, you could say that again.”

When the silence fell over the two of you, you decided to go and get a wet rag to clean you both off with, you yourself too tired to bother with a shower. You wiped yourself off first in the bathroom, rinsing the rag before going back into your room, crawling in the bed beside him to clean him up.

He watched as you cleaned him, a small smile on his face, “Sorry if I finished too quick...it was hard for me to hold it in any longer.” What made his smile grow, however, was the tender kiss you pressed against his temple as you took care of him, “Alex...don’t worry, okay? I enjoyed myself, promise. I’m glad for your first time, it was good.”

Alex sat up fully now, wrapping his arms around your waist as he pulled you to him, grinning at the sound of your giggle before kissing your cheek. “It was better than good. It was fan-fucking-tastic.” He leaned down and kissed your bare shoulder before resting his head against your chest, letting you hold him as the two laid in bed.

You wanted to say that it was just from the long day you had, but truthfully you knew that he tired you out. It had been too long since you had something as good as what you had with Alex that night, and your brain was still spinning. As you held him in your arms, stroking his face and running your fingers through his hair, you became tired and felt yourself drifting off.

On the other hand, Alex was still awake, thinking about what had just happened and how every crazy and fucked up dream he had led to this. He felt like a god at this point...okay, maybe that was a bit too far. When he felt your fingers come to a stop, he looked up and saw you sleeping, your breathing steady. He smiled and sat up carefully, not wanting to wake you as he pulled the blankets back and helped you under the covers.

When he placed the covers back over you, he stood up to find his clothes and go to the couch, not wanting to hover too long. Yeah, you guys had just hooked up, but he knew that probably to you that was all that was - a hookup - to him though, well-

“Alex?”

He turned from where he sat beside the bed, his jeans in his hands as he got ready to put them on. He stopped though, moving closer as he looked down at you, letting you take his hand into yours.

“Will you stay with me tonight? In here?”

The innocent plea for his company sent butterflies into his stomach. Nodding, he dropped his jeans back onto the ground before crawling under the covers beside you, freezing for a brief moment at how quickly you curled up to him, hugging him with your head pressed against his chest. Alex found himself smiling, wondering how he got so lucky. Kissing the top of your head, he rubbed your back until the two of you both fell asleep, tangled in each other’s arms.

#sweet disposition #alex kerner #alex kerner imagine #alex kerner smut #alex kerner x reader #alex kerner x you #good bye lenin #goodbye lenin #au #modern #college

[oddshelbyout]

A Little Too Fond Of Him // Thomas Shelby X Fem!Reader

Requested by: @accioholland

Taglist: @captivatedbycillianmurphy

Summary: You go out for a drink after a bad day and sit down with Tommy to have a conversation but you’re too distracted by his eyes.

Warnings: Swearing

Word Count: 1725

Author’s Notes:

I really love this request because I love writing soft Tommy and also best friends to lovers. I’m sorry if Tommy is a little out of character, I just wanted him to be softer around Y/N.

English is not my first language and I’m not always confident about my work so please let me know if I make any mistakes or anything I can fix in my writing.

You can ask to be added to my taglist. You can be tagged to works on a specific character or just any of my works. Please dm me or send your wish to my ask box if you’d like to be added.

Requests are open. You can request any Peaky Blinders related imagines or prompts for me to write. I’m a minor so I don’t take NSFW requests, please keep that in mind.

———————

It had been a long day. Being a teacher had it perks but you hadn’t come across to any of them that day. The children gave you a really hard time and you were extremely tired. You really needed a drink.

You went home first. You had to change your boring teacher clothes to your usual ones. You always cared if you looked good. You didn’t want to go out for a drink looking like an old lady.

Left home and made your way to the Garrison. You hoped Tommy, your best friend would be there because you hadn’t seen him for a while.

When you stepped into the pub, you noticed it was more crowded than usual. You wondered what was the occasion but also didn’t care enough to ask.

You walked to the bar, asked for a double scotch. Tommy always tried to make you drink irish whiskey and you were now just drinking scotch to annoy him even when he wasn’t around.

“Tommy’s in the booth if you’d like to say hello.” the bartender said as he put the glass in front of you. You smiled, you were happy that you could whine to him about your students. “Thanks.” you grabbed the glass and headed to the booth.

You opened the door seeing Tommy sit there with Finn and John but he wasn’t talking. He was just there watching his two younger brothers discuss something that himself wasn’t clearly interested in.

“So here are the Shelby boys, long time no see.” you said and their eyes turned on you. You closed the door behind you and stepped in.

“Y/N! Good to see you.” John said, he was always happy to see you. Finn just waved at you without saying a word.

“Out on a school night?” Tommy said before he took a drag from his cigarette. You shook your head and giggled.

“I don’t have any restrictions about that, unlike Finn.” your gaze fell on the youngest. He looked so annoyed, “I wouldn’t either if Tommy let me drop out.” he mumbled.

John patted on Finn’s shoulder, “Patience brother, patience.” he said and you saw a slight smile sit on Tommy’s face.

“Why don’t you sit down?” Tommy asked you and pushed the chair beside him so you can sit easily. You put your glass on the table first and then sat on the wooden chair.

“You seem a bit upset.” Tommy said to you, you licked your lips. “It’s okay, just a bad day.” you explained but he didn’t seem to be satisfied with your reply.

John and Finn saw that Tommy’s whole attention was on you so they excused themselves and said goodbye. You were now alone in the booth with Tommy and he seemed to be determined to know what was bothering you.

“I’m not convinced that’s just it.” he mumbled, you didn’t like when he was persuasive to get you talking but this time you actually wanted to tell.

“The kids barely listen to me, maybe it’s because I’m younger and not a bitchy old lady who’s only personality trait is being authoritarian.” you said in one breath and Tommy chuckled. That was rare but it made you smile even though what you were saying was pissing you off.

“You may be a bit too nice.” he said, you rolled your eyes. “Come on Tommy, I just don’t want to traumatise them.” you explained, he knew exactly what you meant.

“I’m not saying you have to be a bitchy old lady, just be a little more strict.” he said, you sighed. “I’m not like you Tom, I’m not good at not being nice.” you took a sip from your drink.

“Thank God for that.” he said and you smiled. He’d always said that his favourite thing about you was that you were too nice for your own good. At times it had bad consequences but being nice wasn’t something bad.

“I see you’re still drinking scotch.” Tommy said with his eyebrows raised. “I can’t believe you can distinguish whisky from the colour.” with your words his arms were up like he was guilty.

He looked tired but not like the usual, he just looked like he was fed up with something otherwise he wouldn’t try to keep the conversation on you if you stated you didn’t want that.

“Now tell me, what’s up with you?” you just had to ask. “Nothing.” he denied and lit up another cigarette. “There’s no way I’ll let you get away with not telling me.” you said directly, he sighed.

“It’s Finn.” he said, your eyes were fixated on his lips, so full and red. You always loved to examine his features while he spoke to you.

“I feel like I know where this is going.” you said and he sighed again. Your gaze drifted to his eyes. Oh his eyes, they were the most beautiful you’ve seen. They were such a light blue that you couldn’t believe how they could be real.

“He’s trying so hard to be like me.” he complained, he clenched his jaw. You didn’t respond, your mind was only working on how beautiful his eyes were at that moment.

“He’s only 16, he should do as I say not as I do.” he continued his rant. You were too distracted by his eyes, your impression went blank but the corners of your lips were still a little curled.

“I told him no guns and he went to steal one from Polly.” you weren’t hearing him. His eyes had mesmerized you once again. His blue eyes were blinding your eyes.

“I only want him to go to school so he doesn’t end up like me.” he said. He wanted his youngest brother to have a better future. You just nodded but not at what he said, you weren’t hearing him. You were nodding to your inside voice saying the shade of his eyes were just like the sky.

“Oi!” Tommy called and now you were back to the real world. “Huh?” you said coming back to realise he was telling you what was bothering you the whole time. You felt like a fool.

“Are you even fucking listening to me?” he asked, he was so annoyed. You licked your lips in shame. “Honestly, no.” you admitted. “You’re gonna make me tell it all again, right?” he asked, so you only sadly nodded.

He told it all once again, you had all your attention on him this time but you were still examining his individual features. How his cheeks blushed when he started to get angry.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” he asked, you blinked in surprise. “Just appreciating your eyes.” you blurted out, only to realise what you said afterwards.

Tommy froze, his lips parted. “My eyes?” he asked and you pushed your lips together, you were embarrassed. There was no going back after this.

“Your eyes are just so pretty, they distract me.” you explained hoping he wouldn’t be weirded out by that. “You think my eyes are pretty.” he said softly, his lips curled up a bit.

“Yes.” you simply answered, you were so nervous about what he would say afterwards. “I think your eyes are pretty too.” he said and your jaw dropped. That was definitely not what you expected.

“My eyes are mediocre.” you said, your eyes were nowhere close to how beautiful his eyes were. “I think mine are too.” his voice was still soft, it wasn’t what you were used to.

“No, yours are extraordinary.” he couldn’t hold himself back and chuckled. You hadn’t seen him chuckle like that with a big smile in so long that you couldn’t believe it. He was actually happy that you said that and was definitely not weirded out.

“Extraordinary.” he repeated what you just said, his smile didn’t fade. Your one hand was sitting on the table and he moved his hand to yours. You felt your stomach twirl, it didn’t feel as good as you thought it would.

“Yes.” you were out of words to say. “What does it mean Y/L/N?” him calling you by your last name was nothing new but it felt different at that moment with the tone he said it with.

“You tell me.” you just really didn’t know where this was going and it scared you. “Maybe you’re a little too fond of me.” you held your breath, what he said wasn’t so easy to process. Were you in love with your best friend? No, that couldn’t be it or could it?

“No.” you simply replied, “Then why are you looking at me like that, telling me my eyes are extraordinary.” your wind was working so slowly. You had no idea how to respond to that.

“Okay, I might be a little too fond of you.” you admitted, you had no other choice. “So you finally realised.” he said and your eyes popped out of its place.

“What?” you blurted out, “I’ve been waiting for you to realise so I could ask you out.” he said. You jumped out of your seat, “What the fuck Tommy?” you shouted.

“You’re not as smart as you think.” you said before giving him a chance to speak, “Why did you have to wait for me? You didn’t wait for any other girl!” you weren’t angry but you were just so annoyed.

“You’re not some other girl.” he said and licked his lips. “I needed to be sure our friendship wouldn’t go to waste.” you took a deep breath, “Oh.” you could reply with only that.

“So you liked me all this time and didn’t say a word and also fucked around as much as you could?” you asked, he nodded, he obviously didn’t know how to reply

You sat back down on the chair and put your hand on the table again. This time he didn’t only get his hand closer to yours but held it. His cold hand gave you chills.

You didn’t even realise how much you were attracted to him and just in a blink you were going on a date. It was far from what you expected for the night, all you wanted was a drink after a tough day. You still were happy with the result and Tommy seemed to be too.

#tommy shelby #thomas shelby #peaky blinders #peaky blinders fanfic #peaky blinders oneshot #peaky blinders x reader #peaky blinders x you #peaky blinders x y/n #tommy shelby x you #tommy shelby fanfic #tommy shelby oneshot #tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby x y/n #thomas shelby x you #thomas shelby x reader #thomas shelby fanfic #thomas shelby oneshot #thomas shelby x y/n #john shelby #finn shelby

[hey-a-wild-jojo-simp]

Okay, college professor headcanons for JoJo’s Bizarre Adventures

Included characters: Dio (Part three, not vampire, fairly out of character, so sorry about that), Jonathan, Avdol, Joseph, Caesar, Polnareff with a little bit of Iggy, Kakyoin, Jotaro, and a bonus of Okuyasu, Josuke, and Koichi teaching a self-defense class to their peers (Not college profs)

Dio

He is part three in this btw, and he isn’t a vampire, I was thinking about the whole night class thing and deadass forgot he was a vampire

He teaches a night class

He teaches a criminal forensics class

No matter how many students he has at any given time, he knows them all by first and last name

He absolutely allows cussing in his class and takes full advantage of this rule

He will without a doubt notice attitude shifts in his students and will be fairly straightforward about it in his office after asking them to stay for a while after class or after they’re done with classes for the day to talk to them about it

He’s the cool professor

He only refers to students by their last name if he’s mad at them

He has his students skip titles and just call him Dio

He has helped students remove smell from their cars after someone left food in it and they didn’t know and it ended up rotting, or if they had stoner friends they had to pick up

It doesn’t matter if they aren’t in his class he’ll help them

He takes time out of his night/morning to help his students

He shows up about 5 or so hours before school starts and allows students who live in noisy ares to come in to sleep, he sets up pillows and everything

It doesn’t matter if he isn’t their first class he still lets them come in

Basically as far from canon Dio as you can get, just with appearance and accent, along with a few tendencies to snap at his students

He brings in meals on exam days because he knows students skip meals

Jonathan

You’ll literally never get lighter homework in any other class (Besides maybe Joseph)

He doesn’t allow cussing, he won’t report you for it. but will scold you, which normally gets anyone to stop, because no one wants to upset this man, he’s too nice to his students

He will report his students for any form of slurs, and that is the only time he will get angry unless one student is actively attacking another verbally or physically

He has stepped in front of a student in the parking lot who was being mugged and just knocked the mugger on their ass

Constantly jokingly butting heads with the criminal forensics teacher, sometimes gets heated between the two

They’re step siblings

Very few students know this

He’s a ELA (English language arts) teacher

MASSIVE golden retriever vibes, super energetic, loves his students, is the kind of man who would take one of his student’s secrets to the grave (As long as it wasn’t something like self harm or being a victim of a crime)

An absolute lumbering machine of a man, he seems imposing at first, until he breaks out into a smile and laying down the few ground rules, telling his students to feel free to talk to him about anything bugging them

Much like his brother, he brings in meals on exam days

He will fall, no if about it, it’s an inevitable thing, all of his students will see it at some point

The room normally erupts into chaos of running around and picking up his papers and freaking out about whether or not he’s okay until he looks up and is just an absolute blushing mess and he’s laughing

After the first time people still help pick up papers but it isn’t as chaotic

This man is so understanding about late work

He encouraged an enby (Born female) to get their hair cut to a mullet and made a 360 video for them to show to their barber

Absolutely would understand anything his students were going through or would at least try his best

He will hug his students if they’re having a rough time  

Can be counted on to extend due dates unreasonable amounts for large projects

Avdol

Stickler about late work

He does love his students, but for every 3 school days something is late, a point gets marked off

Unless you have good reason

Is a recreational class on astrology and other forms of psychic readings (I have no doubt that’s a class, my sister almost took a class on the history of James Bond)

He also brings in tea for his students daily

Will talk to his students if he sees them in public

Widely loved by students

Amazingly attuned with his students

Not many other details that stand out about him

Joseph

He’s that one guy that no one is really sure what he teaches

The presentations from student projects end up being the kinds that end up being iconic(?) images like the “How I lost my virginity to a mint cookie” thing, because no one knows what the presentations are supposed to be on

It’s harder to fail than it is to pass, seeing as if you forget to turn something in you have to remind him to mark it as missing, otherwise it just sits as not turned in, not as late, so it won’t affect your grade

He shows a lot of movies in class

Brought in a gaming system once and held a tourney amongst the students in all of his classes

There isn’t a single student who doesn’t like him

Caesar 

Cooking class

Lets his students eat what they cook after the taste test for grading

Is often brought flowers by his students after they inevitably find out his love for the colorful displays

Let’s be quite honest, we know Joseph is the one that exposes this

The two of them have a running joke of bringing each other jokingly “romantic” gifts as a show of their friendship

He was at first quite uncomfortable with the students bringing him flowers as it is generally quite a, romantic I could say, gesture (Funny lil’ side note, I was a weird child, apparently I thought as like, a 4 yr old I would have multiple husbands, and this guy that’s like, 7 or so years older than me was one of them, apparently planned to be the last???? I dunno lmao, but he brought me flowers because it’s now a running joke and we’re now sorta friends, anyways, he brought me flowers when I was 9, at least I think I was 9, but his girlfriend got mad???? Like hun, I'm not going to steal your man) until he started getting notes in them (Will post those in a later post)

He blushes very heavily upon receiving the flowers, any blush at all is extremely prevalent and he gets flustered and very happy upon receiving the flowers, his students have likened him to a blushing schoolboy

Has a fondness for paintings of nature, which have also been brought in as gifts by students, and they all get hung on his wall, which is always a great surprise to the students that paint them.

Polnareff

He teaches French

He brings in pastries

Very comedic

I don’t really know what else besides he's just a friend more so than a teacher to all of his students

He definitely brings in Iggy frequently, though he makes sure to keep the coffee gum accessible to himself, but not where Iggy could easily get to it

All of his students love Iggy

Iggy will curl up in students’ laps if he likes them enough

Kakyoin

He teaches a history of gaming

Tournies in his class

He’s a bruh dud, just a friend more so than he is a teacher

Doesn’t give two fucks about late work policy cause there is rarely ever any late work from his students

I dunno, his students bring him a bunch of cherry stuff lol, a mini bean bag that looks like a cherry, cherry pastries, cherries grown by the students, maraschino cherries, even a hat that looked like a cherry

Jotaro (Part 4 Jotaro)

Marine biology, duh

An absolute hardass

Half points for late work unless you have a damn good excuse

A student brought him a dolphin stuffed animal once, and Star Platinum broke out in happy tears (No stand using students) while Jotaro kept his composure, although he did crack a smile

Deadass takes students on aquarium trips I shit you not

Secretly loves all of his students

Most of his students love him

Bonus

Okuyasu, Josuke, Koichi, all canon age of part 4, not college profs

Self-defense classes

Open to any gender

Very kind but firm

Okuyasu either makes people laugh or cry or confused

Koichi normally comforts the people who end up crying

Josuke heals everyone up after sparring matches and is also a sparring partner to many

Tomoko may pop in every so often for some harassment tips to the participants  

#jjba headcanons #jotaro headcanons #kakyoin headcanons #okuyasu headcanons #Koichi headcanons #joseph joestar headcanons #jonathan joestar headcanons #josuke higashikata headcanons #polnareff headcanons #dio headcanons #part 3 dio #caesar zeppeli headcanons #muhammad avdol headcanons #iggy headcanons #college professor headcanons #no one dies #not canon dio

[whitehotharlots]

The point is control

Whenever we think or talk about censorship, we usually conceptualize it as certain types of speech being somehow disallowed: maybe (rarely) it's made formally illegal by the government, maybe it's banned in certain venues, maybe the FCC will fine you if you broadcast it, maybe your boss will fire you if she learns of it, maybe your friends will stop talking to you if they see what you've written, etc. etc. 

This understanding engenders a lot of mostly worthless discussion precisely because it's so broad. Pedants--usually arguing in favor of banning a certain work or idea--will often argue that speech protections only apply to direct, government bans. These bans, when they exist, are fairly narrow and apply only to those rare speech acts in which other people are put in danger by speech (yelling the N-word in a crowded theater, for example). This pedantry isn't correct even within its own terms, however, because plenty of people get in trouble for making threats. The FBI has an entire entrapment program dedicated to getting mentally ill muslims and rednecks to post stuff like "Death 2 the Super bowl!!" on twitter, arresting them, and the doing a press conference about how they heroically saved the world from terrorism. 

Another, more recent pedant's trend is claiming that, actually, you do have freedom of speech; you just don't have freedom from the consequences of speech. This logic is eerily dictatorial and ignores the entire purpose of speech protections. Like, even in the history's most repressive regimes, people still technically had freedom of speech but not from consequences. Those leftist kids who the nazis beheaded for speaking out against the war were, by this logic, merely being held accountable. 

The two conceptualizations of censorship I described above are, 99% of the time, deployed by people who are arguing in favor of a certain act of censorship but trying to exempt themselves from the moral implications of doing so. Censorship is rad when they get to do it, but they realize such a solipsism seems kinda icky so they need to explain how, actually, they're not censoring anybody, what they're doing is an act of righteous silencing that's a totally different matter. Maybe they associate censorship with groups they don't like, such as nazis or religious zealots. Maybe they have a vague dedication toward Enlightenment principles and don't want to be regarded as incurious dullards. Most typically, they're just afraid of the axe slicing both ways, and they want to make sure that the precedent they're establishing for others will not be applied to themselves.

Anyone who engages with this honestly for more than a few minutes will realize that censorship is much more complicated, especially in regards to its informal and social dimensions. We can all agree that society simply would not function if everyone said whatever they wanted, whenever they wanted. You might think your boss is a moron or your wife's dress doesn't look flattering, but you realize that such tidbits are probably best kept to yourself. 

Again, this is a two-way proposition that everyone is seeking to balance. Do you really want people to verbalize every time they dislike or disagree with you? I sure as hell don't. And so, as part of a social compact, we learn to self-censor. Sometimes this is to the detriment of ourselves and our communities. Most often, however, it's just a price we have to pay in order to keep things from collapsing. 

But as systems, large and small, grow increasingly more insane and untenable, so do the comportment standards of speech. The disconnect between America's reality and the image Americans have of themselves has never been more plainly obvious, and so striving for situational equanimity is no longer good enough. We can't just pretend cops aren't racist and the economy isn't run by venal retards or that the government places any value on the life of its citizens. There's too much evidence that contradicts all that, and the evidence is too omnipresent. There's too many damn internet videos, and only so many of them can be cast as Russian disinformation. So, sadly, we must abandon our old ways of communicating and embrace instead systems that are even more unstable, repressive, and insane than the ones that were previously in place.

Until very, very recently, nuance and big-picture, balanced thinking were considered signs of seriousness, if not intelligence. Such considerations were always exploited by shitheads to obfuscate things that otherwise would have seemed much less ambiguous, yes, but this fact alone does not mitigate the potential value of such an approach to understanding the world--especially since the stuff that's been offered up to replace it is, by every worthwhile metric, even worse.

So let's not pretend I'm Malcolm Gladwell or some similarly slimy asshole seeking to "both sides" a clearcut moral issue. Let's pretend I am me. Flash back to about a year ago, when there was real, widespread, and sustained support for police reform. Remember that? Seems like forever ago, man, but it was just last year... anyhow, now, remember what happened? Direct, issues-focused attempts to reform policing were knocked down. Blotted out. Instead, we were told two things: 1) we had to repeat the slogan ABOLISH THE POLICE, and 2) we had to say it was actually very good and beautiful and nonviolent and valid when rioters burned down poor neighborhoods.

Now, in a relatively healthy discourse, it might have been possible for someone to say something like "while I agree that American policing is heavily violent and racist and requires substantial reforms, I worry that taking such an absolutist point of demanding abolition and cheering on the destruction of city blocks will be a political non-starter." This statement would have been, in retrospect, 100000000% correct. But could you have said it, in any worthwhile manner? If you had said something along those lines, what would the fallout had been? Would you have lost friends? Your job? Would you have suffered something more minor, like getting yelled at, told your opinion did not matter? Would your acquaintances still now--a year later, after their political project has failed beyond all dispute--would they still defame you in "whisper networks," never quite articulating your verbal sins but nonetheless informing others that you are a dangerous and bad person because one time you tried to tell them how utterly fucking self-destructive they were being? It is undeniably clear that last year's most-elevated voices were demanding not reform but catharsis. I hope they really had fun watching those immigrant-owned bodegas burn down, because that’s it, that will forever be remembered as the most palpable and consequential aspect of their shitty, selfish movement. We ain't reforming shit. Instead, we gave everyone who's already in power a blank check to fortify that power to a degree you and I cannot fully fathom.

But, oh, these people knew what they were doing. They were good little boys and girls. They have been rewarded with near-total control of the national discourse, and they are all either too guilt-ridden or too stupid to realize how badly they played into the hands of the structures they were supposedly trying to upend.

And so left-liberalism is now controlled by people whose worldview is equal parts superficial and incoherent. This was the only possible outcome that would have let the system continue to sustain itself in light of such immense evidence of its unsustainability without resulting in reform, so that's what has happened.

But... okay, let's take a step back. Let's focus on what I wanted to talk about when I started this.

I came across a post today from a young man who claimed that his high school English department head had been removed from his position and had his tenure revoked for refusing to remove three books from classrooms. This was, of course, fallout from the ongoing debate about Critical Race Theory. Two of those books were Marjane Satropi's Persepolis and, oh boy, The Diary of Anne Frank. Fuck. Jesus christ, fuck.

Now, here's the thing... When Persepolis was named, I assumed the bannors were anti-CRT. The graphic novel does not deal with racism all that much, at least not as its discussed contemporarily, but it centers an Iranian girl protagonist and maybe that upset Republican types. But Anne Frank? I'm sorry, but the most likely censors there are liberal identiarians who believe that teaching her diary amounts to centering the suffering of a white woman instead of talking about the One Real Racism, which must always be understood in an American context. The super woke cult group Black Hammer made waves recently with their #FuckAnneFrank campaign... you'd be hard pressed to find anyone associated with the GOP taking a firm stance against the diary since, oh, about 1975 or so.

So which side was it? That doesn't matter. What matters is, I cannot find out.

Now, pro-CRT people always accuse anti-CRT people of not knowing what CRT is, and then after making such accusations they always define CRT in a way that absolutely is not what CRT is. Pro-CRTers default to "they don't want  students to read about slavery or racism." This is absolutely not true, and absolutely not what actual CRT concerns itself with. Slavery and racism have been mainstays of American history curriucla since before I was born. Even people who barely paid attention in school would admit this, if there were any more desire for honesty in our discourse. 

My high school history teacher was a southern "lost causer" who took the south's side in the Civil War but nonetheless provided us with the most descriptive and unapologetic understandings of slavery's brutalities I had heard up until that point. He also unambiguously referred to the nuclear attacks on Hiroshmia and Nagasaki as "genocidal." Why? Because most people's politics are idiosyncratic, and because you cannot genuinely infer a person to believe one thing based on their opinion of another, tangentially related thing. The totality of human understanding used to be something open-minded people prided themselves on being aware of, believe it or not...

This is the problem with CRT. This is is the motivation behind the majority of people who wish to ban it. It’s not because they are necessarily racist themselves. It’s because they recognize, correctly, that the now-ascendant frames for understanding social issues boils everything down to a superficial patina that denies not only the realities of the systems they seek to upend but the very humanity of the people who exist within them. There is no humanity without depth and nuance and complexities and contradictions. When you argue otherwise, people will get mad and fight back. 

And this is the most bitter irony of this idiotic debate: it was never about not wanting to teach the sinful or embarrassing parts of our history. That was a different debate, one that was settled and won long ago. It is instead an immense, embarrassing overreach on behalf of people who have bullied their way to complete dominance of their spheres of influence within media and academe assuming they could do the same to everyone else. Some of its purveyors may have convinced themselves that getting students to admit complicity in privilege will prevent police shootings, sure. But I know these people. I’ve spoken to them at length. I’ve read their work. The vast, vast majority of them aren’t that stupid. The point is to exert control. The point is to make sure they stay in charge and that nothing changes. The point is failure. 

[katsukisblackteddy]

Can you do HCs of Shinsou, Amajiki, Bakugo; teen!Aizawa with a South African s/o who has people saying some annoying comments to her just bc she's from Africa. Like someone says that they're sorry that she struggled with poverty (girl is from a super wealthy family that can buy their family), or say some gibberish with clicks and asks her to translate (s/o can speak five languages: English, Zulu, Xhosa, Afrikaans, and Japanese; understand others. Xhosa has clicks). They ask her if she had...

cont’d request: Pt.II - to hunt for her food (Umm, no. Cape Town has supermarkets and she knows what pizza and Japanese food is, guys). Someone just can't believe that South Africa has TV and internet, while s/o literally has a cell phone with all of the social media and has friends/family from South Africa. When class is over, someone asks why isn't she wearing "African" clothes (bc Africa is country, not a continent) when s/o is just wearing basic clothes. People be stupid.

“Don’t Be Stupid” - Headcannon for Shinsou, Tamaki, Bakugou, and teen!Aizawa

Hey! Thanks for requesting! Hope this is okay :)

Pairings: Shinsou, Tamaki, Bakugou, teen!Aizawa x reader Pronouns: she/her Warnings: ignorance, cursing

Hitoshi didn’t really give a flying fuck about what others thought, mainly because most of the time people didn’t even want to be around him because of his “villain quirk”

But just because he didn’t care what they thought about him, doesn’t mean he wouldn’t fuck somebody up if they messed with you

Shinsou is a quiet guy for the most part, but he was super perceptive

So when he heard that the little ballsack haired toddler from class 1-A was spreading rumors about you, he was angry

You had no problem explaining to people about your home country of South Africa, especially if they asked nicely

But one day when you were walking past Class 1-A when school had just ended, intent on meeting your boyfriend outside to go walk to the park together, you heard Mineta spewing shit about you and South Africa

“Yeah they’re a bunch of savages over there! They literally hunt for food with spears and everyone is poor and they use goats as money.” Mineta said

You stood by the door to see what they were going to say before you chimed in and told them what South Africa was actually like.

“Mineta that’s literally cap and you know it.” Kaminari chimed in with a roll of his eyes. 

He had been spending so much time around you and Shinsou that he started even using your slang unconsciously.

It made you smile a bit.

“Kaminari you’re dumb as rocks. How would you know?” Mineta defended himself.

“Anyways, apparently because they’re so poor they steal a lot too. Maybe that’s why my jacket went missing after I was around (y/n)...Like I said they’re a bunch of savages, she probably doesn’t know any better.” 

Now it was time for you to chime in. 

“Why the fuck would I want your ratty ass jacket anyway? I don’t steal and that’s not what South Africa is like. Denki knows because I told him about it. I’m not poor, I just don’t flaunt my wealth, and if you really want to know I could buy your entire family with my own net worth.” You remarked, crossing your arms over your chest with a huff.

Bakugou sat in the corner watching the whole exchange with a small smirk on his face...he enjoyed confrontation too much.

“Oh and we do have supermarkets where we buy our food from.” You add as an after thought. “If you wanted to know about South Africa, you should’ve just asked like a normal person instead of spewing shit. Have a nice day.” You left the classroom after that a smile growing on your face as you heard Kaminari and Kirishima scold Mineta for talking shit behind your back.

Yeah...that was the last time he did that because after Shinsou heard what happened he found Mineta the next day and threatened him so bad he peed his diaper.

Tamaki was a pretty reserved guy and when you two began dating it surprised mostly everyone because you two were so different

Honestly, Tamaki literally looked at you like a goddess and it annoyed him when people were just plain ignorant

Usually when he was annoyed he would rant to you about it or Mirio or Nejire, and then he would go sit in a corner blushing about how he feared he was oversharing

PLS HE’S SO CUTE

um...N E WAYS...

You had been a transfer into the class when they were second years after your father decided to expand his international company to Japan, meaning you had to leave your home in South Africa

You were upset at first but you quickly made friends with the Big Three and Leonardo Subarashi, who was also from South Africa. 

So it came as a surprise when one of your friends, Tsuki Vinsmoke started talking shit about your homeland even when two of her friends were from there

“They literally live in huts with dirt floors. Maybe that’s why they’re so dirty and poor.” Tsuki laughed with two of her bitch friends, standing right near you

You turned to look at her with a frown on your face, practically daring her to say something else.

“I don’t even know how those two got here. They don’t even have phone service over there.”

“Hey (y/n)?” She said a little louder, as you turned around again, placing your pencil down and momentarily ignoring your school work.

“What Tsuki?”

“Why don’t you wear African clothes? Like those weird scarves and cloths or whatever? Are you ashamed that you came from dirt poor people? I would be.” Tsuki wore a nasty smile on her face as her eyes seemed to sparkle with malice.

“There’s no such thing as African clothes Tsuki. People wear the same clothes here that they do in South Africa...why would I be ashamed of such a culturally rich homeland? I’m proud to be South African, and besides I’d suggest you do some research before you start talking to me about being poor, especially since I’m way richer than you.” You gave a fake sincere smile before glancing over at Tamaki and your friends who gave you a thumbs up as if to say Destroy her.

So you did...in the end you got sent to Principal Nezu’s office after you made her cry and she lied to your teacher saying you had threatened her life like a dirty savage

Tamaki had to hold you back with some help from Mirio before you decked her

Nezu didn’t really care and gave you a donut from the order that had been in his office before sending you back to class

Needless to say, Tsuki got suspended for being racist and perpetuating a hateful environment in the classroom and nobody else messed with you, not even her little friends who sucked up to you after Tsuki went on suspension.

Why would anyone even bother saying stupid shit about you when you were just as hot headed as your explosive boyfriend? I don’t know, but they did

Of course everyone from class 1-A was smart enough not to start anything, but it seems Monoma wasn’t as smart

The annoying overly entitled blonde from class 1-B, had started out by asking you simple questions about your homeland, things like:

“What’s it like there?”, “Is it always sunny?”, “Have you seen a rhino or lion before?”

Then they started getting kind of ignorant and annoying.

“Hey (y/n)? Can you speak African?”

“No Monoma because Africa is a continent made up of many countries, each with their own languages.” You explained, wasn’t he supposed to be smart? “What are you doing Monoma?” You asked, with a raised eyebrow as he started to make strange noises at you.

“Shit for Brains, leave us the fuck alone.” Bakugou grumbled from beside you after he finished chewing his food. 

“It’s you language right? Can you understand what I said?”

“No dumbfuck. You sounded like a dolphin.” You remarked as a few of your friends laughed lightly. 

“I’m surprised you understand...I heard your people aren’t very smart...you know products of their environment, it’s unfortunate really. I’m sorry that you lived in such poverty, but you should consider yourself lucky, now you get to live in dorms and sleep in a real bed and not on a dirt floor.” Monoma went on and on and you were growing increasingly annoyed as you friends sat there in shocked silence.

“You know what Monoma?” You said with a fake smile as you spun around. “I’ve never met anyone as ignorant and stupid as you. I’m not poor and I never was, I slept in a real bed with an actually comfortable mattress unlike the ones here, and I much smarter than you ever will be I speak five fucking languages and I can understand more than that in others. Would you like me to tell you to fuck off in another language since you can’t seem to understand Japanese?” You asked as you raised your eyebrows with your arms crossed over your chest, as if waiting for his answer. 

He stayed silent. 

“That’s what I thought. Maybe you are smart after all?” You added teasingly, watching him be dragged back to his table by Kendo.

Shota Aizawa never really had many friends, usually more laidback than others were comfortable with, but the ones he did have were the complete opposites of him

Hizashi and Shirakumo were loud pranksters, while you and Midnight were talkative and enjoyed messing with him.

Most of the time he ignored the pigheaded bully that was Sensoji, because he usually only picked on Shota, but when Sensoji realized that you were Aizawa’s real weakness, he started to hound you.

And Shota was NOT having that

It all came to a head after he battled against Shota during a training session.

“Your useless just like your quirk Aizawa.” Sensoji sneered at your boyfriend, glaring down at him. 

“Your nothing but a waste of space.” Sensoji added seeing the way that his insults didn’t really phase Shota.

“Hey leave him alone! What is wrong with you!” You intervened pushing the broad shouldered boy away from Shota.

“What are you that weak that you need your little safari ass backwoods girlfriend to save your ass?” Sensoji laughed along with one of his equally stupid Class 1-B classmates.

“Don’t fucking talk about her!” Shota yelled back, his eyes glowing as if it was a warning.

“Or what? It’s not like she’ll understand? People like her back in her country of Africa are stupid as fuck. They build their homes out of oversized tin cans and they don’t even have phones.” 

“Sensoji you’re the stupid one! Africa is... A CONTINENT NOT A COUNTRY!” Hizashi jumped in, activating his quirk halfway through his sentence.

“And they don’t live in tin cans.” Midnight added.

“I live in a nice home, one that’s probably bigger than yours. Just admit that you’re jealous of Shota and me and move on!” You pressed your finger into his chest on each word, glaring at him as if to say say something else and see what happens.

“Grow up!” Shota and Shirakumo added before Sensoji rushed away when he saw the teachers coming over to see what you all were arguing about.

“Yeah that’s what I thought! Run away like a little bitch!” You added with a growing smile.

“Language (y/n)!” Your teacher scolded, but even that couldn’t bring down your smile as you, your boyfriend, and your friends laughed about the incident.

You all still even joked about it years later.

TAGS:

#katsukisblackteddy #requested #headcannons #bnha #south african reader #shinsou x reader #tamaki x reader #bakugou x reader #teen!aizawa #bnha x poc!reader #mha x poc!reader #I'm sorry about always clowing Mineta but he makes it too fucking easy #sorry but not really that sorry #bnha x reader

[tooruluv]

Tooru Oikawa x F!Reader ( part 6 )

❝ my love for him is much like winter, a skeleton for the world to see. too bad he never liked the cold. ❞

description: being the neighbor and lifelong best friend of tooru oikawa definitely had it’s perks. you were never an outcast, always had a seat at lunch, got into volleyball games for free. the problem was, however, that being in love with him outweighed those perks. you would never tell him that, though, even if it hurt like hell.

genre: best friends to lovers, angst, unrequited love, fluff if you squint hard enough

word count: 2,182

warnings/notes: didn’t know yall were SIMPS for kuroo... anyway here’s more angst for y’all

tag list: @afuckingunicornn​​ @maii-flowers​​ @clandestinerays​​ @brownandchill​​ @readeretal​​ @wedojustbevibin​​ @shigarakiskitten​​ @shittykawaa​​ @saeranoppa​ @srirachibi​

prev | next

“I brought the good nacho popcorn seasoning!” Kuroo told you as he rummaged around inside of his bag.

Tetsurou Kuroo had become a close friend in a short amount of time (it seems as though that was something happening to you often, these days). The “mall date” was full of conversation and laughter. You found out he was an only child, played volleyball himself and went to some camp, that he’s never had a girlfriend, and that he’s actually very funny. He grew on you.

You both sat on the couch, claiming it from your parents as you usually do on Saturday nights. This time, it was just with a different boy. Your parents didn’t mind.

Kuroo tossed the bottle to you once he found it. You caught it, and immediately started to pour it into the bowl that was full of popcorn and m&m’s.

Not too long after, the both of you had a scary movie on. You both sat on the couch, the bowl on the table in front of you. He sat with one leg tucked under his outstretched one, his arms crossed into his hoodie pockets. You sat next to him, a couple inches between so you don’t rub your leg against his. Your legs were brought to your chest.

“Are you cold?” Kuroo asked you, leaning forward to get a better look at your face.

“Just a little.”

Before you could protest, he took his hoodie off and held it out for you. You were about to deny his offer when he decided to lean back and literally shove the thing onto your head.

You were giggling when you pulled your arms through. “Thank you, but I could’ve just grabbed a blanket.”

“Nah, it’s fine.” He turned his attention back to the TV. Was that a blush? “You look good in red.”

You couldn’t help but smile. You moved closer to him, your body flush with his. His arm wrapped around your shoulder, something you hadn’t felt in a minute, and both of you smiled as someone got killed on screen.

Tooru Oikawa had always been your safety net. He was the one you went to for absolutely everything, even if it was a minor inconvenience. He was the one you called if you were lost, the one you exchanged looks with when the teacher would say something that could be passed as an innuendo, the one you would go to if you had a splinter or broken nail. And that safety would go both ways.

He would always show up in the middle of the night, or ask you to join him on the occasional Monday for you to watch him practice when he’s supposed to have the day off, or even facetime you just because.

Yet, this time, when you received a very drunk call from Oikawa, it didn’t feel normal.

You missed the call (it was at five in the morning), but you were left a very long voicemail from the boy.

“Nut!~” He slurred into the phone, basically directly onto the speaker. “Hello love. Hi. I drank a lot tonight. By myself. Very good. I should do this more often.”

You smiled to yourself. Oikawa hated being drunk, he would always make a point to never drink whenever he had the opportunity to. It was cute, the slurred and soft-spoken version of Oikawa you were receiving.

“I just wanted to say. I miss you. A lot. That’s why I came over the other day. I have so much I want to tell you but I…” Something muffled the speaker, and you couldn’t hear what exactly he was saying after that. Until, “Yeah, I just miss you a lot. I sleep now.”

You listened to it again.

Iwaizumi sent you a text Sunday. You were at dinner with your parents, out at some restaurant for the night. You went to the bathroom to read it (your parents had a rule: no phones at the dinner table if you’re eating as a family).

“I told my parents.” It said.

“You don’t drink.” You said to Oikawa Monday morning. You didn’t look at him, both of you at your lockers. He sent you a look.

“I don’t drink.” He repeated.

You finally shut your locker and looked up at him. The first time in a long time that you were talking. He seemed taller, thinner.

“Why were you drunk this weekend?”

Oikawa’s eyes wouldn’t meet yours. He shook his head. “I wasn’t.”

“You’re lying to me now?”

He shut his locker and started to walk down the hall. Before he could get far, you stepped in front of him and cut him off. He stopped.

“I got a voicemail from you.” You told him, and his eyes shot to yours. “I miss you, too. I don’t know why you won’t talk to me, but I miss you too.”

For a moment, it was just the both of you standing alone in the hallway. Like nothing else really mattered. He was finding the right words to say, and you waited for him to reply. Your chest was aching, and you wanted to throw the word “love” at him right then.

“I…I miss you a lot.” He finally said. You held back a smile. “But, um, can we talk? Later?”

“Yeah, yeah of course.” You were too eager, you knew. “We can talk later.”

Oikawa sent you a smile, something you missed, and your eyes found his tie. Before thinking, you reached up to tighten it. He chuckled.

“Yeah, I can’t fucking get this shit right.” He told you, letting you bring him closer to push it up. “Sana’s been fixing it at breakfast but I was running late this morning so we didn’t go.”

“Good thing I’m always here, huh?”

You walked next to Iwaizumi and Matsukawa on the way to lunch (the library). They were holding hands, openly smiling and giggling and being gay. You loved it.

“What was it like?” You asked them as you sat at the usual table.

“When I told my mom that I liked guys and I think I’m bisexual, do you want to know what she said?” Iwaizumi asked you. You nodded. “She said, and I quote, “well I can’t blame you, I like guys too”. I was so nervous for nothing. My dad even told me that it was okay and he’s fine with it as long as I’m happy, he just didn’t want to hear the details.”

“Your mom is iconic.”

Tooru Oikawa was not someone who could hide in a crowd. You could always pick him out of everyone, always spot him through the human traffic. It also helped that he was tall.

That being said, you found him instantly.

He wanted to meet at a park, as he was watching his nephew and his older brother was at work. You joined, of course, and you always found his nephew adorable.

You sat on the bench next to him. The very first time you have ever felt uncomfortable enough to sit further away from him. He noticed.

“We almost kissed.” He finally said, eyes following his nephew on the playset. He seemed tense, back straight and hands clasped together.

“Yeah.” You twisted your fingers in your lap. “Almost.”

“I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have anything to apologize for.” You were forgiven weeks ago.

“I do, though.” Oikawa finally looked at you. “I almost kissed you when I just became official with Sana the night before. I shouldn’t have done that. And I’m sorry.”

“I wasn’t upset about you almost kissing me.” You told him, staring at him. “I was never mad at that. It’s you ignoring me and avoiding me like the plague that I don’t particularly enjoy.”

“Right.” He bit the inside of his mouth. “I just…I couldn’t really…I felt really guilty. Having enough feelings to kiss you, but standing hand in hand with Sana. I haven’t told her about it.”

“I haven’t either.”

“Yeah, you two are close.”

“She’s very nice, and good company.” You told him. “You chose a good one.”

“Thank you.”

“I’m sorry, too.”

He blinked a couple of times, like his eyes would fix what he heard. “What are you apologizing for?”

“Everything. Me and Iwa talked some shit about you.”

“I’m not surprised, I’ve been acting like a dick.”

“Ah, we prefer the word asshole.”

You both chuckled, and you ducked your head. His eyes were back on his nephew, who waved at you both from the top of the castle.

“Listen, I’m not going to push you to be my friend again.” You said. “If I make you uncomfortable or make you question your relationship, I’m not going to be mad at you.”

“Be your friend again.” He mumbled, shaking his head like it was the most ridiculous thing he had ever heard. “I never considered us not being friends. And you would never make me uncomfortable, ever. I just…”

“I know.” You stood up. His eyes jumped to you, head tilting up. “Let me know when you figure out whatever you need to figure out. Until then, I’m still right next door and a drunk call away.”

His mouth gaped as if you offended him, but there was a smile behind it. “God damn it, nut, just delete the voicemail!”

“No, I think I’ll keep it.” You brought your phone out and played it. His drunken slur came over the speakers. “Nut! Hello love. Hi!” you mocked him as his voice played.

Oikawa stood up, face red. “Oh my god! Stop! That’s embarrassing!”

He chased you as you continued to mimic him over the voicemail. You didn’t know every word, of course, but you knew when he was going to say certain things. You laughed as he chased you onto the playground.

“Takeru! Help!” you called, holding the phone up so Oikawa couldn’t get it.

“No, Takeru!” he called for his nephew. “Give me the phone, she’s a traitor!”

“Nice try, Uncle.” Takeru grabbed your phone and shook it from his spot on the very top. “She already told me that you were the spy for the English. We must take you to jail! Thank you, Auntie, for the valuable information. We will promote you to Head Knight.”

You giggled at Oikawa’s surprised and embarrassed face. You mouthed “Head Knight” at him, pointing at yourself. He rolled his eyes, but kept smiling at you.

You wore Kuroo’s hoodie the next time you met up with him. A fun fact about Kuroo: the man loves coffee. So, you weren’t surprised when he asked to meet at a coffee shop around the corner from where you buy alcohol. You wonder what he would say if you told him about buying shit from there.

“Damn, that hoodie looks familiar.” He told you when you sat across from him.

“Yeah, it’s comfy.” You said, smiling. “A pretty cool dude let me borrow it.”

“Ah, he let you keep it.” He corrected, hands already around a warm cup of black coffee.

You raised a brow. “I guess I’ll keep it then.”

“So…” Sana threw a piece of candy into the air to catch in her mouth. “You and Kuroo?”

This time, it was Iwaizumi and Sana at your house. Your two best friends. It was a strange combo, to you, as you always separated them in your head. But they actually got along quite easily, immediately started to roast and complain about Oikawa.

The three of you were in your bedroom. You sat on your bed, Iwaizumi on the floor by the door, and Sana sat in your desk chair. You were playing a game: try to catch the candy in your mouth. So far, Iwaizumi was winning (he hadn’t missed a single one, even if your throws were trash).

“What about me and Kuroo?”

“Oh, come on,” Sana scoffed, shaking her head. “You have been spending a lot of time with him. Spill.”

“There’s nothing to spill.” You caught a piece she threw up for you. As you chewed, “We’re very good friends. He’s cool.”

“Alright that’s it. Who is it?”

“Who is what?” you blinked.

“The other boy.”

You gulped, looking quickly at Iwaizumi. He just looked at you, wide eyed and confused.

“You told me that you’ve had a thing for another boy for a long time but he doesn’t feel the same.” Sana continued, her attention fully on you. “And he’s obviously the reason that you’re not going for Kuroo. You’re in love with someone else, and you’re throwing away a perfectly good relationship with someone who actually likes you.” She leaned forward. “So, I’ll ask again. Who is the boy?”

You didn’t say anything, your silence the only answer you could give. Iwaizumi’s eyes went back and forth between you two, staying just as silent.

“Who is it?” Sana asked again, held tilted. When you looked at the floor, it was like a rush of realization dawned on her. The air turned tense, but not negative. Like you couldn’t breathe.

“Oh.”

#anime #manga #haikyuu #haikyu #tooru oikawa #toru oikawa #oikawa tooru #tooru oikawa x reader #tooru oikawa x you #oikawa x reader #oikawa x you #oikawa tooru x reader #oikawa tooru x you #kuroo #kuroo x reader #kuroo x you #tetsurou kuroo #tetsuro kuroo #tooruluv🍄post #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu one shots #haikyuu headcannons #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x you #haikyu x you #haikyu x reader

[myluciferiscody]

Class Fight (p.1)

pairing: teen!dandy mott x teen!reader

word count: 3,303

warnings: language, jealous dandy, slightly au!dandy, all characters are 18

part 2 part 3

1.

It was the first semester of your Senior year. The first month of school had flown by, and the Fall dance was just a few weeks away. Your small group of girlfriends was anxiously awaiting for their crushes to ask them.

You weren’t particularly concerned with this. The dance fell on the one Saturday of the month where you had to accompany your mother to some stupid Tupperware party. It was the newest trend in American dining, and your mother needed you as her plus one. It wouldn’t hurt to miss one dance… right?

Your best friends Winter and Zoe were excited, but they were devastated you couldn’t come. You always went with them as a trio.

“Are you sure you couldn’t cancel?” Winter asked while you washed your hands in the bathroom sink. The school day was over, and you planned on accompanying her to the diner for greasy food and to catch up on homework.

“I already promised her weeks ago,” you said, drying your hands. “There’s still prom?”

Winter nodded in understanding, and you both knew it was the end of that discussion. Zoe came out of the stall, her face flushed and hair tied back. She looked clammy.

“You alright in there?” Winter asked her as Zoe took a disposable cup and drank some water.

“Kyle asked me to the dance!” Zoe replied breathlessly. You and Winter both congratulated her, and Winter asked why she looked so sick.

“I just got overwhelmed, you know? He came up and asked me right as I put my books away. I didn’t think he was going too, he never brought it up before-.”

You followed them out as Zoe recanted the story of how Kyle asked her. The halls were mostly cleared now as kids scrambled to leave as soon as possible.

“You’re riding with us, right?” Zoe then asked you, raising a neat eyebrow at you.

“Yes, Dandy probably left already.”

The girls both smirked to themselves, but you ignored it. You were used to it by now.

The thing was, Dandy Mott was the best looking guy in school, in your opinion. You had never attended a public school in your life, but you knew those boys could never compare. Dandy was from the wealthiest family in your private district, and with his looks, girls were all over him.

However, he was quite the character. 

Dandy didn’t necessarily associate with a particular group of kids. He was reticent and didn’t bother with any clubs, but he was quite attuned to the drama program. He was also known for his temper if things didn’t go his way, but age matured him, mostly. You were one of the few people who he actually gave a damn about in life. You attributed that to knowing him before school. Your grandfather was a business partner with the Mott family, where your family name found their wealth, and how you two were friends.

You weren’t bothered by the unwanted attention you got from girls attempting to weasel their way into your circle for the chance to talk to Dandy. Most of them gave up quickly, and that was that. Plus, you had Winter and Zoe as your protectors. They weren’t afraid to kick a bitch in the vagina if they overstepped the clear boundaries you had set for yourself. Dandy trusted you, and you weren’t about to fuck that up.

Plus, his mother, Gloria, was continually trying to set him up with girls in other parts of town. 

You climbed into Zoe’s new car, buckling your seatbelt and glancing across the almost deserted parking lot. You spotted him instantly, sitting in his car and staring right back. You slowly raised your hand, giving him a wave. Dandy slowly reciprocated the action, and you swore you saw him smile.

You spent the evening with the girls, eating dinner and trying to explain the symbolism in the required reading in English. The football team had finished their practice and were crowding what few booths and tables were left. You tried to block out their raucous laughter, loudly asking Zoe to read your theory to see if it were plausible. 

Winter had noticed the Quarterback, Jason, occasionally staring at you as he chewed his burger. Your back was to him, so you had no idea. She didn’t say anything, instead watching him from the corner of her eye, figuring he wouldn’t approach your table. 

“I just think it only makes sense to me,” you told Zoe, scratching your head. “I can’t concentrate with the boys screaming for no reason.”

“I think it makes perfect sense. You did misspell authority, though…”

You laughed to yourself, glancing around the diner as Zoe fixed your spelling. You were so distracted, you misspelled simple words. 

“We should get ready and go, it’s getting stuffy in here…” Winter commented, closing her English book. 

“Just a moment!” Zoe said excitedly, scribbling down in her own notebook now.

You had started gathering your things when both Zoe and Madison looked behind you, looking a mix of concern and amusement. You glanced behind you to see Jason Dean, smiling down at you. His dark hair covered his eyes, and he pushed it back.

You had no idea what to say. The last conversation you had with Jason was probably in fifth grade when he commented that women were weak while helping you carry boxes of school supplies, and you accidentally dropped a massive box of markers on his foot. He cried for an hour. 

“y/n,” he addressed you. You glanced at your friends who were eagerly watching you with their faces hidden behind their textbooks. Winter’s was upside down.

“Hi, Jason,” you responded, hearing the confusion in your voice. You listened to his friends giggling behind you, and you wondered if this was a joke. 

“I haven’t seen you in a minute,” he said cheekily, and you nodded. “You look good.”

You quickly looked him up and down. Jason was muscular but not bulky, and he was definitely a whole foot taller than you. He grew into his facial features, and he was a handsome guy. You assumed he was just talking to you on a dare, so you finished putting your things in your bag. Zoe and Winter didn’t budge, still pretending to read their books.

Jason realized you were dumbfounded at his statement. He quickly backtracked, “I just wanted to say hi. I’ll see you around.”

You bid him farewell, turning to your friends who were having a hard time concealing their laughter. You heard Jason’s best friend, Matthew, call him an idiot and what sounded like a smack on the back.

“y/n, you have a boyfriend?” Zoe asked, smirking at you.

You glared, standing up as they shouldered their bags and grabbed their books. “You know perfectly well I don’t speak to him.”

“I bet he wants to ask you to the dance.” Winter grinned at Zoe, who nodded in agreement as you stepped into the cold autumn air. 

“I’m not going either way.” you mumbled, and the girls dropped it until the next morning. 

2.

You didn’t think it was that big of a deal that the Quarterback tried to talk to you at the diner a few nights before. All the students who were present spread gossip like wildfire. You ignored it. You knew they were just children speculating what it could mean when it probably meant nothing. 

Zoe and Winter never brought it up again, and you were relieved that your friends didn’t dwell on it for too long. You loved that about them. 

It was after lunchtime when you sat in your History course, going over the notes for the test. You heard Jason and a few of his friends pile in, laughing and making comments under their breath. They took their designated seats in the back, and you felt eyes on the back of your head. 

A group of popular girls across the room started to giggle, and you glanced up to see Dandy walk in, his nose up and sauntering to the seat directly behind you. You wondered why he didn’t acknowledge you, but you didn’t dwell on it long. Dandy was often absent from any social interaction. 

Your teacher began the class the moment the bell rang. She decided to go over the notes an extra day and postponed the test. You were mildly disappointed but knew the material well, so you decided to doodle in your journal. One of the girls in the front occasionally popped her gum. 

Ms. Strode was talking about World War II when you felt something hit your elbow. You glanced over and saw a balled-up piece of paper. You glanced around to see most people were either frantically jotting down notes or not paying any attention. You picked it up, assuming it just needed to be passed ahead.

However, you read your name in neat cursive and opened it under the table.

Would you go to the dance with me? - Jason

You read the short invitation a good ten or so times before you could comprehend what he was asking. While the teacher wasn’t looking, you peeked over your shoulder to see him staring at you. His buddies were hiding their own smiles, but you didn’t see any malice behind it. Was he serious?

Of course, you’d have to decline. You already have an engagement. You promised your mother. You already declined the evening with your two best friends.

You didn’t send a note back, knowing it would be too distracting trying to pass it. Dandy would never try to give a stupid message.

However, Dandy had been paying attention and had managed to read the note over your shoulder when you laid it on your pencil case. He became green with envy, closing the book he hadn’t been paying attention too in the first place.

You hardly spoke a word to him this year. He wondered why that was. Dandy was very particular who he said too, and gave any sliver of his precious time. You were a comfort to him and probably didn’t realize that. Dandy knew he couldn’t seem desperate for your affection, or at the very least, your attention. He had hoped you’d be waiting for him in his car after school like the previous years before. Did he do something to upset you? Were you too good for him?

Dandy spent the rest of the class staring at the back of your head. He knew that wasn’t the case. Perhaps it was his behavior that steered you away. Of course, he liked being friends with you, but maybe it wasn’t enough. He was a loner who enjoyed his alone time. Dandy heard what people said about him. The general consensus was that he was doing everything right. 

When the class was dismissed, he hung back, watching as you quickly gathered your things and paced out the door. 

“Tough blow, man!” he heard Matthew say.

“She’ll come around.” Jason replied, his tone snarky. Dandy watched as they walked out of the room, his brows furrowing as he debated on taking the high road and asking you to the stupid dance himself. He wouldn’t go willingly. His mother, Gloria, needed him to be involved as much as possible. To keep up appearances, of course. Not for Dandy’s own goodwill. 

Dandy trailed out of the class, seeing you across the hall at your locker. Winter was beside you, somehow talking and applying lipstick at the same time. He stood off to the side, not minding all the bodies bumping into him and temporarily panicking that he’d yell at them.

This is it, Dandy thought. It’s a war, whether Jason Dean knew that or not. 

3.

Jason approached you the following day and asked if you’d mind talking to him at lunch. You hesitantly agreed, catching Zoe’s eye as she hugged Kyle before going into her class. She smiled at you, and you gave her a hesitant one in return. 

He definitely matured through the years. Jason was interested in you, and you felt comfortable talking to him through the entire lunch period, even catching yourself laughing at his sense of humor. Dandy played with the apple in his hands, glaring daggers at the back of Jason’s messy head. Winter noticed from her spot at your usual table and nudged Zoe, gesturing for her to look. 

“He looks pissed.” Zoe giggled, and Winter nodded in agreement. 

“I think Mott is going to kill him!” Winter said, stabbing at her steamed broccoli.

“Shouldn’t we let y/n know?” Zoe asked.

“I think she’s about to figure it out.” Winter said as Dandy stood up, heading directly to the table where you were sitting with Jason. Zoe and Winter fell into a hush, shoving food into their mouth and intently watching what was about to unfold. 

Jason saw him approaching first and paused, sizing the other guy up and down. Jason was bigger than Dandy in height and muscle tone from being an athlete, but Dandy wasn’t lanky either. You turned around, shocked to find Dandy staring down at you. 

“y/n,” Dandy nodded at you, ignoring Jason.

“Dandy, hi!” you said, genuinely happy to see him. “How are you?”

“I’m decent.” he said, smiling a little. “Could I have a word?” 

You glanced at Jason, who seemed timid, but he nodded. You stood up, promising Jason you’d be back as you followed Dandy out to the hallway. Multiple eyes followed you, and you heard the whispers starting as the door swung shut. 

“How are you?” Dandy asked now, looking down at you. His dark hair was neatly gelled and had a slight curl. 

“I’ve been good. I haven’t heard from you in a while…” you said.

Dandy nodded, “I could say the same. I assumed you’d come back around soon enough.”

You felt he was hurt by your absence. Dandy looked bothered, and you felt terrible. However, he was capable of approaching you as well. Which is what he thought he had to do. 

“Is everything okay?” you questioned, hoping his mother was doing well. You hadn’t seen her all Summer. 

“y/n, you know you’re one of the only people I care about in this stupid town,” Dandy said, glancing towards a teacher walking to the lounge. He gave you guys a questioning look but didn’t comment, disappearing into the next room. 

You weren’t sure how to respond to that, so Dandy continued, “Which is why I think you shouldn’t go to the formal with Jason.”

You frowned, “How do you know he asked me?”

“The whole school knows!” Dandy retorted, and you remembered. “I think it’s a bad idea.”

“It doesn’t matter, I’m not going either way.”

Dandy looked surprised, and you saw the relief in his eyes. He laughed a little, his fingers drumming against his leg. “Oh.”

“What, are you jealous?” you asked, laughing at him. Dandy tried to hide his laughter, but it didn’t work. The quiet hallway was filled with your giggles.

“That’s for me to know and for you to find out.” Dandy said, and you were saddened to hear the bell ring. Dandy straightened up, the smile leaving his face as kids filed out of the cafeteria and the surrounding classrooms. Kids stared at you and whispered, many laughing and wondering if you were now a couple. 

Jason slowly walked in your direction, but you didn’t want to say goodbye to Dandy. You were ashamed that you had avoided him for so long. You missed him. Dandy glanced behind you, his eyes sharpening as your new suitor waited patiently, his hands in his beige jacket. 

“Be careful around him.” Dandy whispered to you before he disappeared down the hall.

You approached Jason, who gave you a soft smile, “Am I missing something? Are you two together?”

You shook your head, a light smile on your lips, “No. We’re just friends.”

“Oh…” Jason nodded, “Look, I just wanted to say that I’m sorry if I freaked you out the other day. We don’t have to go to the dance together, but-.”

“Oh!” you gasped. Jason frowned, giving you a quizzical look. “The dance… I forgot,” you lied. “Uhm, I’m actually not going. I have other plans…” you said.

Jason looked defeated but took the rejection gracefully. You promised you’d sit with him again tomorrow, and he visibly cheered up at that. You ended up having to sprint to your locker for your books after saying goodbye, but you couldn’t stop thinking about Dandy’s warning. 

“Be careful around him.”

The Friday before the dance went to complete shit.

That morning you ate your breakfast slowly, listening to your parents argue in the kitchen over a business deal your mother thought was a bad idea. Your father was greedy and looked towards the top dollar than what was best for the business and the family. 

If that wasn’t bad enough, Winter fell sick and couldn’t go to school. You had to wait for your father to finish getting ready before he could drive you. You were ten minutes late and got a verbal warning; you never got in trouble at school. You had three tests in a row, and by lunch, you were about to rip your hair out.

Jason was nowhere to be found, so you sat with Zoe. She was worried that Winter would miss the dance but was happy that she’d at least have Kyle if Winter canceled. Kyle came and sat with you guys, his shaggy blond hair wet from the downpour outside. 

You were anxiously looking around the cafeteria for any sign of Dandy. He had missed a few days of school, citing a fever when you called his house and spoke to his maid, Dora. You wished him well and knew he’d pull through fast. Plus, you saw his car this morning when you got dropped off. 

“They’re going to cancel the dance if more kids fall ill,” Kyle said as he ate a burger. Zoe glared at him, telling him to look on the bright side of things. 

“What? I am!” Kyle replied, smirking at his new girlfriend.

“I’m sure they won’t cancel.” you placated Zoe, who beamed at you. “All the parents who gave money will be pissed.”

You ate most of your lunch when the principal walked in. The room immediately quieted as he observed the tables before landing on you. He walked to you briskly, and you felt your heart racing as he approached. 

Am I getting detention? I’ve only been late once!

“Ms. y/l/n, could you come with me?” he asked politely, smiling at you, Zoe, and Kyle.

You nodded slowly, bunching up your trash and placing it on the tray. Zoe told you to leave it, and they’d take care of it. You quietly thanked her and followed Principal Harmon out, struggling to keep pace with his long, thin legs.

“Is everything alright, sir?” you asked. Now wondering if your parents died in some fiery crash or if you failed a class. 

“There’s been a disturbance outside this afternoon,” Harmon replied, his voice grim. “With Mr. Mott and Mr. Dean.”

You were shocked to hear this. You were silent during the rest of the trek to his office. When he opened the door, you saw both boys sitting in chairs. They both had packs of ice on their faces and sheepish expressions.

“What were you thinking?” you hissed to them as Mr. Harmon gestured for you to take the empty seat next to Dandy.

“Well, now that y/n is here, I think you both owe her an explanation and an apology.” 

Jason and Dandy shared a look. Dandy now looked pissed, and you could only imagine what lead to this. 

Oh, I have a pretty good fucking idea.

#dandy mott #dandy mott x reader #ahs imagine #dandy mott imagine #ahs freak show #winter anderson #zoe benson #american horror story

[crystalninjaphoenix]

Another Life

Switch AU

A JSE Fanfic

I’ve decided to take this story to properly introduce Switch!Jack to the AU. Because I think I’ve come up with a great way for him to fit in and I’m really excited to see more of him :D And most of the others are, too. Except for Anti. Seems like his trust issues are acting up. Those two just need to get to know each other, it’ll be fiiiiiine. Anyway, hope you guys like this story, and like Switch!Jack as much as I do ^-^

More of this AU found here

It was noon on a Friday, and Anti was getting off a bus. He watched as it pulled away from the stop, then sighed. He didn’t want to be here. He didn’t want to do this. But the others did, and so here he was, reluctantly going along with their plan to get to know this new guy: Jack, Sam’s friend.

He never understood why the others—JJ and Jackie especially—were always so eager to add new people to this group. Especially people they barely knew, like Jack. Really, what had he done so far? He’d showed up at the park and got Anti home after that incident at the Aspen Street house. Then told the others that he was fine. And...that was it. But because he was connected to Sam, and they knew that strange little eyeball to be friendly, they thought it was a good idea to get to know the guy. Anti just didn’t see the point. They didn’t know anything about him! What if this was some sort of trick?

Sighing, Anti started walking, heading towards the restaurant where they’d agreed to meet. At the very least, he could use this as a way to figure out what was going on with Sam. See if they could learn what Sam was, and things like that.

They’d invited Jack to The Waffle Cone, one of their usual places, thinking the casual, familiar setting would be a nice getting-to-know-you environment. But instead of their usual spot at a table near the window, they’d instead taken one of the booths near the back, in a slight alcove with no windows nearby. So that Sam could fly around the semi-hidden area without being seen by passerbys. Though Anti couldn’t help but notice when he walked in that Jack, and therefore Sam, were nowhere to be seen. Why was that? A harmless reason, or something else? He sighed as he walked towards the back to join the others.

“Hey Anti!” Jackie stood up, reaching out but pausing before actually making contact.

“Hey.” Anti patted Jackie on the back. It was a casual contact day. “Wow, so Highlighter Hair is even later than I am?”

“Highlighter Hair? C’mon, Anti,” Jackie sighed.

“Well he’s right, his hair is really bright,” Marvin pointed out from where he was sitting near the wall. “Why woul’ anyone want t’at? Doesn’ it just draw attention?”

“Some people want that,” Schneep muttered. He was sitting opposite Marvin, but when Anti showed up he stood and walked out of the booth, letting Anti have the seat by the wall.

“Yeah, the question is why,” Anti said, sitting down. “Like, if you have a magic eyeball companion, you’d want to blend in, right?”

After a bit of musical chairs they ended up with Anti by the wall, Schneep next to him, then Jackie on the end. On the other bench were Marvin and JJ. Maybe it’s for work? Jameson suggested, signing slowly.

“For a job? Is that what you said?” Anti asked. JJ nodded, and at that, Anti considered the idea. “Well, what does he do that needs neon-colored hair?”

JJ reached into his pocket. After a bit of rummaging, he took out his wallet, and put the card Jack had given him into the middle of the table. Everyone leaned close to look. “Oh, so he’s a musician,” Jackie said.

“A musician with a weird floating eyeball companion who can talk with him telepathically,” Anti stressed.

“You know, considering you are the only other person here with dyed hair, you really should not be judging people on their appearance,” Schneep commented.

“I—that’s not the point!” Anti protested. “He’s got to be something more!��

“Well we can ask him, because he’s showin’ up,” Marvin said, gesturing towards the front entrance. At that very moment, Jack was walking in, hands in his pockets and highlighter-bright hair practically glowing in the sunlight, and looking around. Jackie stood up and waved to draw his attention. Jack smiled and waved back, then headed over.

“Hi everyone. Sorry I’m late,” he said, sliding into the empty spot next to JJ. “I got lost. This place is pretty far from the tourist-y parts of the city I’ve been in so far.”

“Oh my god!” Schneep threw his hands up in the air. “Why is everyone Irish?!”

Anti and Marvin burst into laughter. “Hey, I’m not Irish,” Jackie pointed out.

“Your mom is, it is the same thing if you are half,” Schneep rebutted.

JJ picked his pencil and notebook up from the table and wrote, I’m definitely not Irish. 100% British.

“Oh, god, Jems, that’s even worse,” Marvin snickered.

JJ gasped exaggeratedly, then nudged Marvin’s arms, making him laugh more.

Jack was chuckling as well. “Yeah, I was just thinking to myself that this city has a lot of Irish people in it. Even the name sounds more Irish than British, right? ‘Mirygale.’ I’ve been all over, and that’s not very English if you ask me. Wonder why that is.”

Jackie shrugged. “I guess maybe there’s always been a bunch of Irish people in the area. I bet if you looked up city history there’d be something interesting there.”

“You sound like a primary school teacher assigning a topic to a kid’s first essay,” Anti muttered. “Is Sam here?”

“Yeah, of course.” Jack took off his backpack and unzipped it. The moment it was open enough Sam flew out. They looked around, taking in the setting, then floated back down to the table, scooting closer to Jack, who patted them, smiling. “We always go everywhere together. Which is why I was so worried when they decided to come here on their own and didn’t tell me.”

Schneep hummed. “They did that without telling you? Is that not a bit rude?”

“We’ve already talked it over by ourselves,” Jack said. “So if you’re trying to get them to apologize, they already did.”

“Okay, Jack. Mr. McLoughlin.” Anti leaned across the table, getting as close to Jack as he could without Schneep shoving him back. “Time to talk about this. Where the fuck do you get a floating eyeball? Where did they come from? Why can you talk to them but nobody else can? Also what the fuck are they? None of us have ever heard of a floating green eye. What are you?”

“Anti,” Jackie said, putting a hand on his arm. “Can you back off a bit? We just met the guy.”

Jack was unphased by Anti’s hostile tone and blatant mistrust. He just adjusted his glasses and said, “Yeah, Sam’s told me all about you guys. You’re all magic or something, right?”

“Well, technic’lly Jems is the only magician,” Marvin pointed out. JJ nodded, then pulled his usual parlor trick of tiny blue fireworks.

“Whoa.” Jack whistled. “I’ve never really talked to a real magician before.”

JJ tilted his head. So...you know there are real magicians?

“Sort of, yeah. Sam and I have met some, but it was always a lot of questioning and exchanging information, you know, kinda like what Anti’s trying to do.” Anti jumped at being called out like that, and Jack laughed a bit. “It’s fine, I’m used to it. But if we’re at a restaurant, can we at least order food first? I’m starving.”

“Yeah, of course. Hang on.” Jackie handed Jack his menu. “Here, let’s all find something then I’ll go up and order.”

A while later everyone had their food, eating and chatting about nothing. Except for Anti. He just kept staring at Jack, eyes narrowed, listening to everyone else talk about movies and video games and books. Sam was curled up around the salt and pepper shakers in the middle of the table, constantly turning around to follow the thread of conversation. “So does Sam need to eat?” Anti asked the second there was a lull in the conversation. “Because they never did when they were staying with me.”

Jack shook his head, taking a moment to swallow the bite of his sandwich he’d just taken. “No, but they get really upset when I don’t. We like, share energy. Mostly. They just kinda get hangry.”

You share energy and you can hear their thoughts? So you ARE connected somehow, JJ quickly wrote.

“Guys, we really shouldn’t be asking questions Jack doesn’t want to answer right now,” Jackie pointed out.

“No no no, it’s fine, don’t worry,” Jack reassured him. “I’m not actually upset about it. I just thought we’d get to know each other a little first. Sam’s told me a lot about you guys, but it’s not the same, you know?”

Sorry, JJ signed. Then realizing Jack probably didn’t know what he said, he wrote Sorry out on the paper instead.

“Really, it’s alright.”

“Jackie, it is fine,” Schneep said. “We are all curious, Jack is fine with it, really there is no problem.”

“Wait, t’ere was a problem?” Marvin asked, confused.

“No, no problem!” Jack repeated. “Man, there is no train of thought with you guys. Or there is, it’s just all winding around and no one is driving.”

“Thanks, it’s the ADD in two of us combined with the bad social skills of the others,” Jackie said.

“Wh—well, we know, but hey,” Schneep said, mock-offended.

“Anyway, back to the question,” Anti said, rubbing the side of his head where an ache was starting to develop. “You and Sam are connected?”

“Uh-huh.” Jack nodded. Sam wiggled their way out from between the salt and pepper and hopped over to Jack’s shoulder. “Of course we are, they’re my eye.”

There was a moment of silence as the others all collectively processed that statement. “Wait, y’mean...literally?” Marvin finally asked.

“Yep. Here, I’ll tell you the story.” Jack leaned back, tapping the table with his fingers. “I was about...nine or ten, and one day, my right eye just started really aching. My family took me to the doctor, but they couldn’t find anything wrong, so they just gave me some bandages to cover my eye and told me to keep it closed. Don’t remember why. But a couple days later, I woke up in the middle of the night and the whole right side of my head hurt. So I got out of bed, went over to the mirror on my desk, and took off the bandages to see if something looked wrong. The minute I did, plop! My eye fell out.”

“Oh my god!” Jackie gasped.

“You can bet that freaked me the fuck out,” Jack continued. “And then I looked down, and it was green, and glowing. And then it started to move, and it looked at me. And that was Sam.” 

And you didn’t TELL anyone?! JJ asked, aghast.

“Jamie, please, what was he supposed to do?” Schneep asked. “He probably thought he would get in trouble with his parents.”

“Actually I thought that if I told anyone the government would come take me away,” Jack corrected. “So, uh. Yeah. Same idea, I guess. Same result. Sam stayed a secret, and over time they started getting bigger and able to fly, and now here they are.” Sam bounced, then nuzzled Jack’s neck.

“What about your eye now?” Marvin asked.

“That’s even weirder. I went back to bed, and in the morning, my eye was back in place. But Sam was still around. Of course, I was ten, so that made perfect sense to me at the time, but freaky as fuck looking back on it.”

“So it’s not fake?” Anti asked skeptically.

“Nope.” Jack tapped his cheek below his right eye. “Can see out of it and everything. I do kinda wish it looked a bit cooler, though. Like your thing, with the different colors? That would be cool.”

Anti didn’t say anything, not taking Jack’s clear peace offering.

I’ve never heard of something like this happening, JJ wrote. And neither has anyone I’ve spoken to. Have you, Jack?

Jack shook his head. “As far as I know, Sam and I are one-of-a-kind.”

“That is fascinating,” Schneep muttered. “I wonder why that happened? There was nothing that could have caused Sam?”

“Not that I remember,” Jack shrugged. “I’m just a guy, really. A guy with a living eyeball that has their own personality.”

“That’s not something that happens to ‘just a guy,’” Anti insisted. “And what do you do with this one-of-a-kind opportunity? You can’t tell me that you do regular shit when your life is like this.”

“Anti, I—” Jackie sighed. “Anti, can I talk to you? Somewhere private?”

“We’re in a restaurant, Jackie.”

“Then let’s go to the bathroom. C’mon.” Jackie stood up. Sighing, Anti started to get out of the booth, waited a moment for Schneep to let him out, then followed Jackie into the men’s bathroom.

“Well, we’re here,” Anti said, checking to make sure that nobody else was in the stalls. “And we’re alone. What’s wrong?”

“Look, Anti, I know you don’t like meeting new people,” Jackie said. “But you’re being...well...more dickish to Jack than usual. What’s the deal? Did you not like Sam or something?”

“No, I like Sam,” Anti said shortly. “If I didn’t, I wouldn’t have let them stay with me. Would’ve given them to one of you guys.”

“Okay, well, Sam and Jack are clearly a package deal, so what’s up?” Jackie folded his arms. “Because honestly? You’re being ridiculous. No, you’re being actively hostile. You weren’t like this with Marvin and JJ, you know. You weren’t like this with Stacy. What is it about Jack that’s causing this?”

Anti shifted on his feet, not looking at Jackie. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a switchblade, flipping it open and closed a couple times.

“If you want to leave, you can leave,” Jackie continued. “You don’t have to stick it out. If you’re staying because you want to know more about Sam, then we’ll tell you later. But...I just want to know. Are you just having a bad day and taking it out on him? Because right now it looks like you’re actively trying to make him uncomfortable—”

“That’s exactly what I’m trying to do,” Anti blurted out.

Jackie blinked, then put his hands on his hips. “Anti.”

“Don’t use your Dad Voice on me, it’s not like—I could’ve said that better.” Anti took a deep breath, switching his knife to his other hand, where he continued to flip it open and closed. “It’s—he’s too nice. It’s...weird. Like—okay, you mentioned when we met Jackson and Marvin for the first time. You know how they reacted to my asshole comments? Marvin called me out on it, and Jackson...well, Jameson’s a really nice guy, but he at least looked surprised when I said something like that. You know, uh...what’s the phrase? Caught off guard. Taken aback. But Jack is just...nice. It’s freaky.”

“Maybe Sam just told him what to expect,” Jackie suggested.

“There’s a fuckton of difference between hearing something and experiencing something,” Anti pointed out. “I keep pushing him to get a normal reaction, and by now he should’ve blinked a couple times, o-or given me a weird glance, but he hasn’t, and it’s freaky. It’s—” He ran his free hand through his hair. “Is he trying to get me to like him? Why? Nobody’s that nice without wanting something from you.”

Jackie paused. Then he raised an eyebrow. “Well I mean...I’d say that I was ‘that nice’ to you when I kept showing up at your room in the hospital despite you actively telling me to fuck off.”

“I—that was different,” Anti insisted. “You’re a doctor, it makes sense for you to check on a patient.”

“I don’t think it was that different. I mean, I didn’t have to keep showing up, but I did.” Jackie walked up to Anti’s side and put a hand on his shoulder. He tensed a bit, but when Jackie started to withdraw, he reached up and put his hand on top of his. “And Anti, I never wanted anything from you. I still don’t.”

Anti took another deep breath, inhaling through his nose and exhaling through his mouth. “I—it’s just—I can’t—” He gave up, frustrated that he couldn’t put it into words.

“Do you want to leave?” Jackie asked.

“No. No, I don’t.”

“Are you good with Jack?”

“I won’t be as dickish,” Anti said carefully. “I’ll maintain my usual level of dickishness.”

Jackie laughed. “That’s fine. You ready to go back?”

“Yeah.”

“C’mon then.” Jackie smiled, and led Anti back to join the others.

———————

“Daaaad! Someone’s at the door!”

Anti turned around at the sound of Will’s voice. “I’ll be right there!” he called, quickly pausing the game he was playing and all the recording software. Who could that be? He checked his phone real quick, but didn’t see any messages from the others saying they were coming over. Then again, last time someone dropped by unexpectedly it was Marvin, mind-controlled by Distorter. He should probably answer. So he stood up and left his recording room.

Will was sitting at the kitchenette counter, swinging his legs while he munched on a bowl of grapes from the fridge. His plushie rabbit Brian was sitting on the stool next to him. The doorbell rang, and he helpfully pointed at it. “I got it, bud, don’t worry,” Anti said as he passed him.

He opened the door. And immediately wished he’d thought to look through the peephole first. Jack was standing outside, looking pretty much the same as he had a couple days ago when they met him for lunch. “Hi,” he waved. “Sorry for dropping in all of a sudden, but—”

“How’d you get this address?” Anti interrupted.

Jack raised an eyebrow. “You gave it to me. I walked you here the first time we met. In the park, remember? I mean, I didn’t walk up here, but I asked a couple of your neighbors and—”

Anti groaned. “Those stupid—it’s my address, don’t give it away—what if someone wanted to kill me or something, dumbest move ever...” His complaints faded into angry muttering.

“They probably didn’t mean anything by it,” Jack said. “Anyway, I was—”

“Dad, who is it?” Will got off his stool, grabbing Brian as he did, and walked over to the door.

“Oh, uhhhhh...” Anti looked down at Will, now standing next to him, then back up at Jack. “This is...Jack. He’s...a new...friend.”

“You don’t make friends, Dad,” Will said.

“Well, friends make me, so it’s the same thing, really.”

Jack looked a bit shocked at first, but he quickly got over it. “Oh, so you’re Anti’s son? I should’ve known. Sam did say he had one. What’s your name?”

“I’m Will,” Will said, waving. “Do you want to come inside?”

“If your dad’ll let me.”

“I—” Anti sighed. “Yeah, step inside.”

“Thank you.” Jack didn’t walk too far into the apartment, hovering near the doorway as he looked around. “So this is your place?” For a moment, Sam peeked out from a gap in the zipper of his backpack, then they disappeared again. And Jack nodded, as if responding to someone. “Yeah, I see.”

“Sooo...why are you here?” Anti asked, closing the door.

“Oh, I wanted to see if you wanted to go somewhere,” Jack explained.

Anti fought the urge to glare at him suspiciously. “Why?”

Jack shrugged. “I just kinda felt like we got off on the wrong foot. Sam’s told me a lot about you, but I want to get to know you myself.”

Anti paused. “Is this a date? Because I don’t do romance, or...” He glanced at Will. “...the other stuff, either.”

“No, no no,” Jack hurried to say. “That’s cool, but I’m not into guys.” 

“Oh good, we needed a token straight in the group.” Jack looked a bit surprised at that, and Anti just had to laugh. “Yeah, bet you weren’t expecting that.”

Jack laughed a little, too. “I mean, no. Goes to show how open-minded I should be. Anyway, not a date. Just sort of a friendly, let’s-talk-to-each-other thing.”

“Right.” That didn’t sound any more appealing. “Look, I was actually in the middle of work—”

“You should take a break, Dad,” Will interrupted. “You’ve been at the computer all day, and Mrs. Benson says you should limit your screen time.”

“I...well, she’s right,” Anti said carefully. “But this is for work.”

“You pause things all the time,” Will insisted. “Go have fun.”

Anti huffed. “I thought I was the parent here.” There was a bit of a smile on his face, though. “But speaking of that, I can’t just leave you on your own. And I can’t find a babysitter at the last minute like this.”

“I’m almost ten, Dad, I’ll be fine.”

“I...Will, honestly?” Anti bent over and whispered loudly. “It’s more for me than anything. I’d be worried, especially with what just happened.”

“Hmm.” Will’s face scrunched up as he thought up a solution to this problem. “Oh! You two can take me to Michelle’s house, first. There’s a bus stop close by!”

“I—Michelle’s ren might be busy, Will.”

“Then you should text them first.”

Jack smiled to himself. “Sounds like the kid’s got all the possible problems covered.”

Anti didn’t hold back on glaring at him this time. But, unfortunately, he was right. At this point, he couldn’t think of any more excuses to give to placate Will and his insistence that his dad have friends. “I wish you weren’t so smart sometimes, kid,” he muttered, straightening. “Alright, Highlighter Hair. Give me a minute to get everything ready then I guess I’ll go—where are we going?”

Jack paused. “Uhhh...well honestly, I didn’t think I’d get this far. You know what? I’m not that familiar with the city, anyway, where do you want to go?”

Oh. Anti hadn’t been expecting that. He blinked, considering the options. They’d just gone out for food, so he didn’t want to do that. A movie might be good, it would keep conversation from happening, but it also meant at least two hours out with Jack, and nothing good was playing, anyway. “We can just walk around,” he finally decided. “That’s fine.”

“Alright. Hey, you can show me some of the local sights!”

“Yeah. Sure. Now sit down while I wrap all my work stuff up.” Anti pointed at the sofa, and Jack quickly sat down, waiting patiently. He gave him one last look, then disappeared back into the recording room to shut everything down.

While in there, his eyes landed on the glass shelf where he kept his knife collection. After a moment’s hesitation, he unlocked the case and grabbed one, entirely black with a four-inch drop point blade. It came with a matching black sheathe, and he slipped the blade inside it, quickly grabbing his jacket with the largest pockets and putting the whole thing in the left pocket. Just in case. Of what, he wasn’t sure. But just in case.

——————— 

After taking the bus to Rama and Michelle’s house and dropping off Will, they ended up going to the shops. Not the more popular shopping district of the city, but the area on the west side that had a bunch of small shops in rows. Bookstores and art-and-crafts places, mostly, but there were also music shops, a video rental place, and a survival-type store that sold equipment like climbing ropes and sleeping bags. Jack seemed interested, and asked questions about what the shops were like, if Anti liked them. But eventually, the conversation topic turned to more personal matters.

“So, uh, Anti,” Jack said slowly, zipping up his jacket as a gust of wind made the chilly day even colder. “What do you like to do?”

Anti shrugged. “Hang out with the others. Do stuff with Will. Play video games. Normal shit.”

“Really? What’s your favorite game?”

“I like horror.”

“Oh I’ve played some horror before. Like what?”

Anti sighed. Jack’s questions were persistent. “There’s this game that came out like a year and a half ago that I like. It’s called Doki Doki Literature Club.”

Jack laughed a bit. “That’s a horror game?”

“Don’t fucking judge it by the title, okay?” Anti snapped. “I know it sounds ridiculous, but I played it on request, and got gut-punched by what happens in the story.”

“Hey, I wasn’t saying anything!” Jack raised his hands.

“You laughed.”

“Well you got to admit, it sounds a bit out there. But I guess it’s one of those ‘subvert your expectations’ types.”

“Exactly.” Anti nodded. And to change the subject, he asked, “What’s your favorite game, then?”

Jack’s eyes lit up. “Have you ever heard of Shadow of the Colossus?”

“No.”

“Oh, dude. It’s so cool! It’s on the PlayStation, and you play as this guy called Wander trying to defeat these creatures called the Colossuses—Colossi? I can never remember. Anyway, you have to find each one and then...”

Anti let Jack ramble on for a while, occasionally nodding or asking a question to get him to keep going. The streets were pretty empty; it was late November and chilly, nobody wanted to be out walking. But there were quite a few cars driving past. Though after a while they turned onto a dead end, the street ending in a square paved with red bricks and lined with a few benches, a couple concrete planters holding thin, leafless trees. Jack headed over to one of the benches and sat down. Anti followed, and after a moment, sat down on the opposite end, leaving about two feet of space in between them.

“So did you never have a PlayStation or something?” Jack finally asked. “Oh, PlayStation 2, I should say. Cause lord knows there are a million of them now.”

“There’s just four,” Anti said, rolling his eyes. “And no. No Xbox, either, before you ask. Or SNES.”

“Man. That must’ve sucked. Were they not big on video games in—uh, where are you from?”

“Ireland.”

Jack let out a huff of laughter. “Well no shit, I mean what county are you from?”

“Which one are you from?”

“Offaly.”

“Oh, of fucking course you are,” Anti muttered. “I should’ve guessed you were a middle-of-nowhere type by your accent.”

“Hey, yours doesn’t sound that much different!” Jack said defensively. “I bet you’re also a middle-of-nowhere type. Where is it? Longford? Westmeath?”

Anti gave up. “The first one, actually.”

“Knew it!” Jack said triumphantly. Then he paused. His expression shifted as a thought occurred to him. “Hey, did you—this is a fucking wild question, and you don’t have to answer it, but...did you happen to know a Ciara McLoughlin?”

Anti suddenly stiffened. He’d been avoiding looking directly at Jack this whole time, but his head snapped over at him. “What was that name?”

“Ciara McLoughlin, middle name Lily, I think. It’s a bit out there, but—”

Before Jack could even finish that question, Anti lunged. He knocked both of them off the bench, and they landed on the ground with a single solid thump! as Anti pinned Jack. A faint green glow rolled out of the gap in Jack’s backpack zipper, but Anti didn’t care. He’d reached into his pocket and pulled out the knife he’d packed—still in its sheath, but a threatening display nonetheless. “Who fucking sent you?” he hissed.

“Wh-what?!” Jack was completely shocked, surprised by the reaction and a little scared of the covered blade Anti was poking into his chest.

“Who sent you!?” Anti repeated, snarling. “It was her, wasn’t it?! This is what you wanted, this is why you’ve been so weirdly fucking nice! How’d you find me?!”

“What are you talking about?!” The shock was fading into confusion, mixed with a healthy dose of nerves.

“You! You you you youuuu...youuuuu...” Anti shook his head. “You can’t fucking pretend anymore. How did you find me?! What does she want?! And why does she care now, of all times?!”

“Anti, please, calm down,” Jack pleaded, trying to keep his voice gentle. “I really don’t know what you’re talking about! I—what do you mean ‘she’? Do you mean Ciara?”

“Of course I do, who else would I mean?!” Anti demanded, pressing the sheathed blade a bit further. “And you need to stop being all confused like this, the jig is up, I knew it, I knew you weren’t just that friendly, it’s impossible, nobody’s like that, everyone needs something and I don’t know if it’s for your own sake or you’re doing this for her, but I know, I know now, I know why you’re like this, is it information? Is that what you want? Or are you going to try to convince me to go back? Either way, fuck you, you’re not getting either of those.”

Jack just gaped at Anti as he ranted, not moving. Then, out of nowhere, a bright green light flew up towards Anti’s eyes. Gasping, he leaned back, not dropping the knife but pulling it away from Jack long enough for him to sit up and scramble back. Sam bumped against Anti’s forehead, slapping his face with their nerve-tail as if to say ‘get a hold of yourself!’

“Fucking hell, dude,” Jack said, a bit out of breath. He ran his hand over the spot where the knife had been poking him, but luckily he just found a little imprint, no blood. “Sorry I brought it up.”

Anti pushed Sam away from his face and gave Jack a closer look. “You...really don’t know what...what I’m talking about?” he asked haltingly.

“No!” Jack shook his head furiously. “But I can figure it out! You clearly did know Ciara, and you clearly have some sort of issue with her. Did she do something to you?”

Anti didn’t answer. He looked down at the knife in his hand—oh god, if he hadn’t brought the sheath, he’d have—his hand opened and let the knife clatter to the bricked ground as he covered his eyes with his hands. His pulse was racing, loud enough for him to feel in his neck. God damn it. He had to get himself under control. Just...breathe. Take a moment to just focus on breathing.

“Sorry,” Jack repeated, softer this time. “I-I didn’t know it would...be like that.”

“Course you didn’t,” Anti muttered, lowering his hands and looking around. It  was lucky nobody had seen that.

“No, really, I-I didn’t,” Jack insisted. “I...When you said you were from Longford, I remembered that she lived there, so I wondered if you knew about her.”

“How do you know her?” Anti rebutted.

“She was my aunt,” Jack explained, taking off his glasses to make sure they weren’t damaged. “And I didn’t really know her, she never visited the family or anything. But. Yeah. My dad’s sister.”

“Oh.” Anti fell silent for a moment. He didn’t know that Ciara had a brother. A brother with kids. How was it possible that she’d never mentioned them?! That was a massive thing to never—in all that time—Anti groaned and rubbed his head. God, this hurt him, almost physically. If he’d known that—if he’d just—well, the past was dead. He’d killed it. So there was no use thinking about what might have been. But something sounded...off. In the way Jack talked about her. “What do you mean, she ‘was’ your aunt?”

“Well.” Jack hesitated for a moment, then said, quite bluntly, “She’s dead, actually.”

“...oh.” Anti waited for a reaction to rise up within him. Some sort of emotion, good or bad. But he felt...empty. Though maybe that made sense. “When?”

“When I was like...seventeen or something. Over ten years ago now. She got hit by a car.” Jack paused again, but Anti didn’t say anything more. So he stood up, slowly, and Sam flew around him. “I’m fine, Sam, don’t worry. No, nothing. Really.” Sam, worried, curled up in their usual spot on his shoulder.

“...Sorry,” Anti mumbled. “About the whole...thing. With the knife. I didn’t—I didn’t actually want to hurt you.”

Jack nodded. “Just don’t do it again.” He offered a hand, and after a moment, Anti took it, letting Jack pull him up. “Hey, uh...you’re probably not gonna answer this, but...are you okay with...telling me how you knew her?”

“No.” Anti shut down the notion immediately. He wasn’t about to share that whole mess with basically a stranger, when his close friends only knew the barest of details.

“Right, right. Sorry.” Jack took a step back, giving Anti some space. “Um...can I tell you something? I think you picked up on this, anyway, but...I’m not just a drummer. I do do that, but it’s to help pay expenses and stuff, you know?”

Anti’s shoulders raised. “What are you, a cop?”

“No! God no, I couldn’t do that,” Jack hurried to say. He took a deep breath, then continued. “There’s...not really a name for it, I think. But Sam and I travel around and...we help people. Not like a vigilante or anything, I hear you guys have one in this city? We don’t do stuff like that. I mean more...you know, mentally.”

“You’re a therapist?” Anti asked, raising an eyebrow.

“No, not really.” Jack shook his head. “Though I guess I could be. I’d just need to go back to school and shit. I just...support people. Kinda encourage them. If any of this makes sense. Like, i-if you’re having a hard time and your house is messy, but you can’t find the energy to clean, I can do that for you. Or if you need to talk to someone to get something off your chest. Again, I’m not a therapist, but I can listen and give advice.”

Anti suddenly laughed. “You’re a life coach?! Oh my god, Highlighter Hair. You do not look the part.”

“That’s still not—” Jack sighed. “Okay, look. Sam’s been staying with you guys for a while, right? They have this ability, this...this feeling they get, sometimes, that they need to do something. What happens is they can sort of tell where we’re needed next, but a few weeks ago, they got this feeling, and they could tell they needed to go alone. So, they headed here. And...they found you guys. And they could tell something was immediately wrong. Your...your kids went missing, right?” Jack asked that last part slowly, cautiously.

“...yeah,” Anti muttered.

“Right. And you were all going through it.” Jack glanced down at Sam. “And if they’d told me where they were going, I could’ve been here to help with that, but apparently they suddenly needed to leave right then in the middle of the night.” Sam swished their tail. Somehow, they looked guilty.

“Okay, okay, I get it,” Anti sighed. Actually, he probably understood more than Jack or Sam knew. He’d run into Sam the night of the kids’ disappearance, the night when he’d...had a breakdown. Just like he used to, years ago. And just like years ago, he might’ve continued on those random wanderings, out of his mind, if Sam hadn’t showed up and kept breaking up the routine. They’d probably saved him, in a way. Just like Jackie had, years ago, when he kept showing up in the hospital room of a nobody who didn’t care for him. “So...the real reason you guys are here is to fix us.”

“Don’t use that word,” Jack said firmly. “Nobody in your group is broken, you just need a little bit of help.”

Anti rolled his eyes. “Right.”

“I’m serious, I—” Jack sighed.

“Right. Just like you don’t want anything from us. How much are you offering for this?”

“I don’t charge for this,” Jack said. “We just...do it. Because some people need it.” He folded his arms. “Like you, Mr. I’ll-Threaten-You-With-A-Knife-For-Mentioning-This-Lady.”

“I said sorry,” Anti insisted.

“Are you sure you should be carrying knives around if that’s how you’ll react?”

“I—shut the fuck, up, I—I need to.” Anti realized his hands were shaking, so he folded his arms as well. “And usually, that doesn’t happen. I’ve just been—”

“A bit stressed lately?” Jack prompted.

Anti closed his eyes, and breathed in deeply for a long, long time. Then he let out his breath, equally slowly. “Does the rest of the group know about your life coaching?”

“It’s not life—I was going to explain it next time I saw them,” Jack said.

“Cool. Go see them now, there’s enough time left in the day for that. And if they still like you after that, then I guess you can hang around.” Of course they’d still like him after knowing that. It was the kind of people they were. Marvin and Schneep might be a bit upset that Jack didn’t tell them immediately, but they’d get over it. JJ would insist on including Jack in more group activities. Maybe Jackie would, too. Actually, he could see the two of them having a lot in common. Fitting that their names were almost the same, then.

Jack smiled widely. “Great! Glad to hear that.”

“Hear what? I’m telling you that my tolerance of your presence depends on what the others think.”

“Yeah, that’s great! I mean, c’mon, you haven’t exactly been welcoming. Or hiding the fact that you weren’t welcoming. So that’s a step up.”

Well he had a point there. Anti bent over and picked up his knife from where it had landed, slowly slipping it back into his pocket and buttoning it closed. He turned to leave. “Well, I’ll be going now. You can find a bus stop by yourself.”

“Sure,” Jack nodded. “I’ll be seeing you, then?”

Anti paused. Then he turned back. “And another thing. Don’t fucking analyze me without me saying. Believe it or not, I actually minored in psych, so I don’t have any fucking patience for armchair psychology from someone who probably only did a few searches on the Internet and is armed with just some sort of—of great attitude and a nosy want to help people.”

“I don’t do that stuff, Anti,” Jack reasserted. “But...don’t worry. If you don’t want help, I won’t offer. Unless it looks...bad.”

That sounded like it was as good a promise as he was going to get. Anti turned back around and started walking back down the street they’d come from. Jack called “Bye!” after him, and he raised a hand in response.

A few streets later, he found a bus stop for a line that he didn’t think Jack would take, and sat down to wait. And the moment he did, everything that just happened started bombarding his thoughts. Sam’s friend was some sort of...travelling...mental...helper. Who showed up here because he wanted to help the group with their problems. Sure. That made sense. And this guy was also her nephew. Who he didn’t know even existed, despite all the reasons he should have known. “God...fuck,” he muttered, looking up into the sky.

If Jack was going to be so present in their lives, how long would it take him to figure out...everything? Everything about Anti? The very thought raised a sense of panic in his chest.

No, Jack wouldn’t know. He’d make sure of it.

Well, Anti had to acknowledge one thing. Jackie was right; this new guy hadn’t wanted anything from them. He wanted to give something to them. That thing being some sort of help. That was...unexpected. In Anti’s experience, people didn’t offer aid for nothing in return. Or at least, they rarely did, as Jackie had reminded him the other day.

As the bus approached in the distance, Anti stood up, making sure the driver could see him. While getting on, he reflected that there was one thing he could count on: they’d be seeing a lot more of Jack in the future.

#jacksepticeye #jacksepticeye fanfiction #jacksepticegos #jacksepticeye au #septic egos #septic egos au #antisepticeye #programmer anti #switch!jack and sam #all the boys show up but those two are the most important so im sticking to them #brigid writes fanfiction #septicswitchau