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allthingsarmin · 3 years

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nerd!armin x popular bimbo girl!reader?

the reader needs a tutor so she asks the smartest boy on campus and they have a “study session” in the library

Thank you for your request! I hope you like it! (ALSO: I’m so sorry this took so long to write omgmgg please forgive me) ~ I also would like to write a better version of this later. Though I'm in love with this prompt, I feel I didn't write the smut part that well.

Minors DNI! NSFW below the cut. Fem!Reader, FemBodied!Reader.

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At this point, Armin’s legs were burning, his heart racing and hands uncontrollably shaking, while you were practically out breath, your lungs tightening as you released yet another hearty laugh and not caring about the sweat running down your forehead. Neither you nor Armin expected to be running away from the librarian at 2am in the morning on the cold, campus sidewalk, your hair and makeup questionably messy and his shirt noticeably unbuttoned with hickeys staining his neck. However, the thrill of it all was something you didn’t know you both needed…

Earlier:

“Y/n?” Armin questioned, waving his sharpened pencil in front of your face. “Are you paying attention?” He awkwardly laughed as he scratched the back of his neck. You look up at him, battering your mascara-covered eyelashes at him. “Ahh… I have no idea what’s going on,” you sighed.

Armin wanted to bang his head against the library table. He knew it would be difficult teaching the ‘campus bimbo,’ but he didn’t know it would be this hard… yet there he was. 1am on a Thursday, the test tomorrow, and you still couldn’t grasp the basics of quadratic functions.

“Why don’t we take a break?” he suggested, loudly dropping his pencil on the table, leaning back in his chair, and adjusting his disheveled collar poking out of his blue sweater.

“Okay!” you giggled mindlessly, turning to face him in your chair as you twirled your hair in your fingers. “Even though I’ll probably fail the test tomorrow, thank you for teaching me!” you exclaimed, fiddling with your compact mirror and checking your dolled-up face.

Armin tensed up at your backhanded words. Pushing his hair back out of frustration, he cursed the fact he was wasting his time with such an ai-headed girl. “Y-you’re welcome,” he hastily said as he rubbed the bridge of his nose.

Why didn’t he say no to your study session - if you could even call it a study session - ? Even though Armin was the school nerd, it’s no surprise to him that you came and asked him for help because, well… Everyone does that - always taking advantage of Armin - only talking to him because they want to use his neat, color-coded notes, only inviting him to parties so that he would later help them study.

You felt bad for Armin. Though you couldn’t deny he was way too uptight, everyone did make fun of him for every little thing; the way he dressed like a professor, how he was always so punctual, the way he was the first to raise his hand when the teacher asked a question, how he came extra prepared to class with extra pencils.

But being so close to him now, this was the first time you realized how handsome he actually was. His turquoise veins protruding from his soft, pale skin… his slender fingers gently holding his flashcards, his toned muscles peeking their way through his rolled up sleeves and making his clothes just a little tight, the sharpness of jawline contrasting with his kind, bright smile, the way his ocean blue eyes stared intently with such passion, and his thick, golden hair growing to his eyebrows, allowing his cute ears to shyly show themselves while his undercut beautifully shaped his face… he was beautiful.

“Do you have a girlfriend?” you suddenly asked.

Armin was taken aback by this question. No one had ever asked him this nor did any one seem to have any interest in his personal life whatsoever.

“No,” he paused, “I don’t have time for that stuff…” he trailed off. Armin never had a girlfriend, and thinking about it now, he never really had any crushes. He was way too busy keeping up with his grades, extra curricular activities, and student council. It would be practically impossible for him to keep such close relations with his kind of responsibilities, but that doesn’t mean he’s not lonely… his arms aching for someone to hold, his heart cold due the absence of warmth of a person he loves.

Armin didn’t bother asking you if you had a boyfriend. You were the most popular person on campus, partying with countless dudes every weekend, hanging out with a large group of girls at the mall nearly every day, your phone buzzing so much during class that your professor told you multiple times to turn it off, and you were pretty - your hair was always done in a pretty style, your makeup (though a bit slutty) always brought out the best features of your face, your nails were always painted, your skin was smooth and silky, and your perfume scent was addicting. Not only that but your clothes showed off your body so well; your skirt that was just a little short allowed people to see your cute panties when you bend over to pick something up, and your shirt that was barely even a shirt was always cropped above your waist and showed off your bouncy, plush cleavage… so of course you had a boyfriend. But even though Armin was an incredibly focused nerd, he couldn’t deny that your sweet smell, tight clothes, and lipstick-covered lips made him lustful.

“Too busy for that stuff?! Aren’t you lonely? It’s like you don’t even know how to have fun,” you chuckle, jokingly hitting his shoulder which happened to be really muscular underneath his sweater.

“Haha yeah,” he said, seemingly uninterested in where you were going with this.

“If you’re so busy, does that mean you don’t have time to masturbate?” you giggled, covering your plump mouth with your hand and fluttering your eyelashes at him.

Armin became extremely flustered as tints of red washed over his body in waves.

“W-what?” he stuttered. “Why are you asking me these questions? We are supposed to be studying!” he quietly shrieked, looking away to break eye contact with you and playing with the watch on his wrist.

“Haha, I am just joking. You’re such a nerdy boy, just want to make you blush,” you sincerely smiled.

“W-well I am a young college student, so obviously I - I do that from time to time thanks to p-porn,” he stammered.

“Woah woah wait. Someone as uptight and rigid as you watches porn?” you harshly laughed, genuinely shocked. You scooted your chair closer to him and leaned into his neck, your hot breath caressing his skin and your hair resting upon his shoulder. “What kind of porn does this nerd like to watch?” you inquired, widely grinning as you saw how embarrassed Armin had become.

On the inside, Armin was fuming, mostling frightened that he had gotten himself into an embarrassing loop with no escape that would most likely be gossiped about amongst the popular students, but mostly angry that some dumb, slutty bitch was wanting to pry into his personal life, not even appreciating the fact that he spent countless hours in the library helping you study to no avail because you couldn’t pay attention if your life depended on it… that this same dumb, slutty bitch was just getting her fun from teasing some nerd who is taken advantage of and forgotten by everyone… angry that you - with your pretty makeup, plump lips, short skirt, and overflowing cleavage - weren’t paying the price for your teasing.

Suddenly, Armin sat up in his chair, his muscles tensing through his clothes, and an aggravated look forming across his face, wrinkling his brows. He quickly takes a fistful of your hair and pulls you close to his face, allowing you to see the different shades of blue in his eyes and his soft, blond eyelashes. His innocent, geeky look is nowhere to be found on his face as he intensely stares into your eyes.

“It just so happens that this nerd likes to watch useless, empty-headed bimbos like you get their pussies abused,” he said, dominance seething from his teeth as his mint breath hits your face. Before you even have time to think, Armin unbuttons his slacks and practically forces your mouth on his hard, pretty cock.

Watching you gag and choke on his cock with saliva dribbling down your chin made him laugh. “You’re gonna have to be a little quieter, slut, we’re in a library remember?” he coos. He abruptly pulls you off his cock, taking in the sight of his lipstick-stained tip and the mascara tears streaming down your face. His treatment was so harsh and so sudden, making you miss the ‘nicer’ and ‘quieter’ Armin, but you couldn’t deny his sudden dominance made your aching cunt flood with arousal.

Before doing anything else, Armin scans the library, making sure no one is around. Grabbing your wrist, he forces you to sit on his lap, facing him on top of the library chair. Everything happened so quickly, barely even leaving you time to think, barely leaving you time to think that Armin was using your body to relieve his anger and frustration, not leaving you time to realize how sopping wet your needy cunt actually was.

Sitting atop his lap, he spreads your plush, soft thighs, exposing the fact that you didn’t wear any panties to this study session, causing Armin’s eyes to widen.

“I don’t know why I’m so surprised that a whore like you wouldn’t wear anything underneath your short skirt to our little ‘play date,’” he snickers. He leans close to your ear, softly biting your neck. “It’s almost like you were asking to be fucked by me.”

You don’t know what to say. Your mind is so empty, fuzzy, and shocked that the only thing you can do is comply when he demands that you ride his cock. Armin lets out a low groan from the bottom of his throat as your tight, warm pussy encloses his thick cock. You let a pathetic whimper as he begins to thrust up into you, and Armin gives you a glare, reaching up and tightening his hands around your throat. “Remember, you have to be quiet, or are you too dumb to remember that?” he sinisterly smiles.

Armin begins to harshly thrust into you as you wrap your arms around his neck, holding onto dear life as he deeply penetrates your spongy, sensitive walls. He slithers his slender hands into your shirt and starts toying with your nipples and pinching them when you’re being too loud.

Groping your ass, he whispers in your ear, “you know, I don’t even know why you’re in college… you’re so dumb. Why don’t you just drop out and be my little slut for when I come back after class, huh?” You sink your head into the crook of his neck, embarrassment coming over you at the same time as pleasure fills your walls when he tells you those mean words.

He grabs your hair, forcing you to look at him. Your hair is a tangled mess, your makeup completely smeared, and your eyebrows furrowed as your innocent-looking eyes beg for some type of release.

“F-fuck, you look so dirty,” he groans, leaning his head back.

“And you look like two students who are going to be in so much trouble…”

Both of you tense up and look behind you to find the librarian staring daggers into your souls.

Immediately, you hop off of Armin’s dick, gathering your things as he struggles to pull up his pants. Both of you at an ungodly speed bolt out of the library doors. Yeah, getting potentially banned from the library would suck, but maybe it was something you both needed. Armin needed to learn to loosen up, have some fun, and you needed to learn to take things seriously and maybe just put in a little more effort.

“Ya’know, it’s kind of late. We can go back to my dorm, and I can help you study for maybe another half hour… if you want,” Armin shyly asks as you both continue running down the sidewalk.

“What about the other half hour?” you questioned.

Armin’s face grows red. “We can finish… chemistry…”

#armin arlert #armin x reader #armin smut #aot x reader #aot smut

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nationalharryleague · 3 years

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Valentine’s Day

Summary: Y/N receives a special candy gram on Valentine’s Day.

Genre: Valentine’s Day Fluff with Middle School Band Teacher!Harry

Word Count: 2.7k

A/N: Hi my valentines!!! There’s about 30 minutes left of Valentine’s Day for me and I finished this piece right in time!! Thank you to the angel herself @tbslenthusiast for beta reading this for me and I cant wait to hear what you all think!! More of my writing can be found in my Masterlist and I would love to hear some feedback!

***

Valentine’s Day was never fun for you. You dreaded this day every year.

Valentine's Day in a middle school was full of teddy bears and flowers purchased by someone’s mom and having to tell 12 year olds to stop kissing in the hallway. You also knew that you would be inevitably interrogated by your students about your love life before getting any of them to listen to your lesson about the industrial revolution.

And every year, your answer stayed the same.

“It is none of your business,” you would begin with a teasing sigh. “But if you all have to know, I am happily single.”

And every year, you were met with a chorus of disappointed whines.

Your students were always desperate to wiggle their way into your personal life, a side-effect of being one of the youngest teachers in the school. You were closer in age to them than to some of your coworkers and they took advantage of that fact constantly, creating an open and honest dialogue with their favorite history teacher.

“But do you have a crush, Miss Y/L/N?” Jenna, one of your favorite students, piped up this Valentine’s Day from the front row. You couldn’t help but laugh at the way she raised her eyebrow at you from her desk, inquisitive and adorably curious.

“How about this?” you started, raising your own eyebrow to match her’s. “I’ll tell you if I have a crush, if you can tell me why the printing press was so important to the industrial revolution.”

Your heart started to drop as you watched the massive smile stretch across her face, exposing a mouth full of braces with pink rubber bands. They weren't supposed to learn about the printing press for another week.

“It made information more affordable and easier to access which bridged the information gap between the rich and the poor,” she answered like she had the textbook right in front of her. She crossed her arms triumphantly and leaned back into her seat while the class oohed and ahhed around her, knowing she had kept up her end of their deal.

You felt your cheeks heat as your classroom descended into giggles as your flustered face. “Nice job, smarty pants,” you let out with a nervous giggle.

“Remember, honesty is the best policy,” another student shouted out, pointing towards the poster on the wall of your classroom next to the world map that read the same saying.

“Okay, okay, okay,” you conceded, raising your hands in surrender to the classroom full of seventh graders. “I do have a crush.”

Your students erupted at your admission. Whos, whats, wheres, whens, and whys were thrown out by the class, but only a gentle smirk rested on your features, refusing to relinquish any more information to the children demanding it.

“You aren’t getting anything else than that!” you raised your voice to settle the rowdy classroom with a laugh. You moved from the front of the class back to your desk, listening to the gentle click of your heels on the white tile and gathering the stack of worksheets for that day’s lesson. “Now, pass these around and stop asking questions,” you playfully scolded.

“That’s not what your poster says, Miss Y/L/N,” Jenna spoke up again, pointing out another poster on your wall.

Never stop asking questions! was written in bold rainbow colors on the wall and it was now staring back at you.

You let out a chuckle and shook your head at the floor, knowing they had caught you once again. “I’m going to take down all my posters and you’re going to have to learn in a boring classroom soon.”

“We are just looking out for your love life!”

“You deserve a boyfriend!”

“Or a girlfriend!”

“Just someone who loves you!”

You smiled wide at the class full of endearing faces in front of you. They had nothing but good intentions and were sweeter than Valentine’s Day candy. You loved these kids like they were your own.

“Guys, I appreciate your concern,” you confessed. “But I promise I have it under control.”

After that, they began to settle down, eventually letting you give your lesson on the industrial revolution and scientific advancements of the period.

But you knew you had told them a lie.

You did not have it under control, at all. You were hopelessly in love with the kind man with curly hair and green eyes down the hallway in the band room and had no idea what to do about it.

Harry was one of your first friends when you were hired last year, volunteering to show you around the school and fill you in on all the workplace gossip. He had flecks of cheeky mischief in his eyes as he told you about the gym and spanish teachers’ affair and how the coffee machine was broken by one of the math teachers after a bad administrative evaluation. You had listened adoringly, like he was explaining the meaning of life, and you hadn’t been able to shake your crush since.

You brought each other coffees on the daily and were always in and out of each other’s classrooms. He always made sure you were a chaperone on his field trips and you always made sure he was one on yours. He had even convinced you to let your classes come to band practice once a month so they could play music from the time period your classes were currently studying.

He was endearing and kind and charming and so so good with all the kids. He was also incredibly sexy, which made it even more difficult to control yourself around him. You had the fattest and most uncontrollable crush on him, but he was your friend and you didn’t want to ruin that.

The ring of the bell that signified the end of the class period brought you out of your Harry induced haze, waving goodbye to your students and shouting after them to do their homework and to stop kissing in the hallways. You stood against the door frame of your classroom and watched their little awkward bodies skurry towards their next class, but your attention was soon caught by the tall man who’s chocolate curls stuck out high above the sea of middle schoolers that surrounded him.

“Good morning, love. Happy Valentine’s Day,” he smiled wide, dimples appearing like they were inviting you to poke them, as he reached your classroom and your heart fluttered at his affectionate pet name.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Harry,” you beamed back at him, hoping he and the passing students didn’t pick up on the adoration that was becoming very hard for you to hide.

“Oi, stop that,” he called over your shoulder, slight disgust showing on his face. You turned around and were met by two kids sucking face behind you. “Guys, just go to class,” he exasperatedly sighed when he was met by their shocked and embarrassed faces. Once they were gone, the two of you descended into a fit of giggles.

“They have no shame!” you laughed.

“Absolutely none!”

“Why are you over here? Not that you aren't welcome, but don’t you have a class to teach?” you teased gently as students began to gradually fill up your own classroom.

“I thought I would stop by and wish you a happy love day.” He smiled wide at you and spoke sweetly. If you weren’t reading into it too closely, you thought he might even be blushing a bit. “And it’s okay,” he waved off his class, clearing his throat and his voice returning to normal. “They’ll survive a few minutes alone. I trust them.”

“You shouldn’t,” you giggled again.

“Yeah,” he nodded with a chuckle. “I probably should get back, but I wanted to invite you to come to my classroom and get some cookies whenever you get a chance today.”

You felt your heart soar at his invitation, no matter how friendly the proposal. “I am free next period.”

“I know,” he winked, and your heart nearly jumped out of your chest. “I will see you then,” he grinned as he began to walk backwards down the hallway, maintaining eye contact for as long as he could, before spinning down the hall just as the bell rang to start the next period.

You tried your best to focus on your lesson about the renaissance with your sixth graders, but your mind kept floating back to the delightful man who had invited you for cookies.

Had he invited all of the teachers for cookies? Or did he ask just you? Was he just being nice? Or did he actually want to see you? Had he been flirting with you?

The lesson was interrupted when there was a knock on your classroom door. You opened it up to find one of your students, Matt, dressed in a giant heart costume holding baskets full of labelled chocolate bars.

“I’m here to give out Valentine’s Day candy grams, Miss Y/L/N!” Matt exclaimed, his face barely fitting into the far too large hole cut out for his face. Every year the student council set up a candy gram fundraiser and the kid in the suit never got any less cute. You let out a chuckle as you looked down at him, opening the door further and letting him into the room.

You watched with a smile as he called out students’ names and the genuine surprise and flattery that passed over their features. Cheeks turned red and shy smiles played on their lips as they made their way to the front of the room and retrieved their candy from the giant pink heart.

You were caught off guard when you heard your own name be called. Matt held out the meticulously wrapped pink candy bar out to you as the class let out an “ooh” and your cheeks heated with embarrassment. Your cheeks heated even further as you read the label.

To: Miss Y/L/N

From: Mr. Styles

Will you be my valentine?

Your heart fluttered in your chest and you had a very hard time holding back the large and toothy grin that wanted to appear in front of your students.

“Who is it from?” one of your students asked excitedly.

“I don’t ask who your Valentines are, do I?” you teased, but held the candy bar close to your chest over your heart. You could feel your heart racing underneath your hands.

The giant pink heart standing at the front of the classroom finished distributing his candy and your class led a chorus of goodbyes as he left the room, onto the next classroom to spread some more innocent young love. You impatiently watched the clock tick down the seconds until the bell rang and released both you and your students out into the school.

And just when it felt like it might never come, the bell rang through the school and your students were off into the chaos of a passing period. You followed closely behind after you gathered your things, the candy bar slid carefully into your bag. You flowed along with the flow of children that carried you down the hallway, heart racing as Harry’s classroom came into view, your feet quickly matching it’s tempo.

Your footsteps echoed on the tile in the acoustics of the large room, your voice bouncing off the walls as you said hello. He had been tuning a guitar when you came in, his attention flashing up from the instrument in his hands to you.

“I was promised cookies,” you teased him. “They better be good.”

“I promise they are. They’re my nan’s recipe.”

“Of course they’re your nan’s recipe,” you sighed with a chuckle.

“What’s so bad about using my nan’s recipe?” he asked incredulously, grinning as he settled the guitar back into its stand and moved towards you.

“Absolutely nothing,” you sighed adoringly. “I just think it’s very sweet.”

“You haven’t even tried them yet! You can’t say they’re too sweet.”

You couldn’t hold back the giant smile that was so wide it made your cheeks hurt, chuckling at his cheesy joke. He made you feel warm when he moved closer to you, like someone had just turned up the heat in the large room.

“I meant that you were sweet, silly,” you tried to joke, but it came out genuine and soft. You bit on your lip nervously, replaying the affectionate tone in your head over and over.

“Thank you, sweetie,” he smirked softly at the pet name and you felt like you were soaring.

He was close to you now, having crossed the room and standing only a few feet away from your body. You wanted to close the space between you two, to kiss him with all your might, to tell him you would love to be his valentine. But just as you built up the courage, he stepped away towards his desk, retrieving a cookie for both of you.

The cookies were shaped into small perfect hearts with a coarse pink sugar pressed into the soft biscuit. The cookie melted in your mouth and the sugar granules crunched between your teeth. You had to hold yourself back from releasing a moan at the taste. They were dainty and delicate and you could only imagine how much time he had put into them.

But you weren’t shocked. Harry was like that. He was gentle, taking care and measured precision with everything he did. He spoke to the kids with tender care, making them feel talented and successful, and was always there to lend a helping hand whenever one of them needed it. And he spoke to you the same way.

“Harry-” you began softly, but he cut you off before you could finish.

“-Yes, I would love to.”

“What?”

“I would love to be your valentine.”

Your heart jumped in your chest, flattered heat rushing to the surface of your cheeks, but you also looked at him with a slight confusion. He had asked you to be his valentine, hadn’t he?

As you looked at him in slight shock, you noticed the small and meticulously wrapped pink candy bar that sat on his desk. Oh my god, they didn’t, you thought.

You could only imagine the confusion that fell onto Harry’s features as you moved away from him and towards his desk, picking up the candy bar and reading the writing on the wrapper.

To: Mr. Styles

From: Miss Y/L/N

Will you be my valentine?

Oh my god, they did.

“Harry,” you chuckled, looking back towards him and holding the chocolate bar up. “When did you get this?”

“I got it this morning when the kids delivered it,” he said dumbfounded. “Why?”

“Because I didn’t send this.” You walked over to your bag that you had left near the door and retrieved your own matching candy bar. “And I’m assuming you didn’t send this either?”

You handed the pink package to him and he read the label closely, eyebrows furrowing even further, then relaxing as you watched the puzzle fall together in his head as it had in yours.

“The kids sent these to us from each other, didn’t they?”

“I believe they did, Mr. Styles,” you nodded.

His cheeks turned a bright red, embarrassment flooding his features. “I’m sorry about before then,” he stammered out. You watched the panic on his face as he searched for something to say that would cover his tracks, but you cut it off when you connected your lips to his.

His lips were soft and velvety and he tasted exactly like the sweet sugar cookie he had gifted you. Your lips moved gently over each other and you slid your hands up to play with the curls that rested at the back of his neck, pulling him impossibly closer to you as his hands found their spot on your hips. You couldn’t help the smiles that fought their way into the kiss and you broke apart moments later, both flushed and flustered, small giggles leaving both of you.

“I would love to be your valentine if you would have me,” you said breathlessly as you looked up to him.

“It’s all I could ask for.”

“This is the best Valentine’s Day ever,” you said softly against his lips, already pulling him back in for more.

“We’re just like the kids in the hallway.”

“They’re not too bad. I understand it now.”

THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR READING!! REBLOGS AND FEEDBACK MEAN THE WORLD!!! :)

#Harry styles fan fiction #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fluff #harry styles blurb #harry styles #harry styles fanfic #harry styles drabble #harry styles x reader #harry styles reader insert #harry styles x you #harry styles x y/n #teacher harry #harry styles au #harry styles fic #nationalharryleague #mine

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biderboy · 3 years

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THE MARAUDERS RAISING THE WEASLEYS PART 3

in the last part i mentioned the “kisses heal everyting” and i wanna imagine ron always kissing remus scars after a full moon in hopes he’ll feel better

i did not get hugged as a child so i am 100% sure the marauders gave cuddles SO much. it’s not unlikely for bill to wake up late and immediately make his way over to remus for a morning hug, or for george to demand atleast 3 hugs from james before he goes to work

lily teaches them that emotions are healthy, and makes sure they know it does not make them weak, and gentle tells them how to express what they’re feeling without hurting themselves or others. HEALTHY EMOTIONAL GUIDANCE!!!

remus and percy play a lot of card games, now percy sucks at real card games but he’s a MASTER at go fish and always beats remus in every. game.

one day peter brought the girl he was seeing home, and while she knew he had kids, she full on did not expect 7 small redheads to rush up to them screaming “PA YOURE HOME!!” and engulfing peter into a giant doggy pile

bill starts hogwarts and so they all go with to drop him off at the train, sirius tries sneaking on board with him and james cries seeing his oldest son off, remus gives him a good 3 minute long hug, and peter has to hold the twins as they cry. lily is the only reason bill doesn’t miss the train

speaking of such, bill was super nervous about leaving and remus was going to let him just keep going to muggle school so he’d be home every night, but after many, many, long talks, they convinced bill hogwarts wasn’t bad, and that they’d find a way to visit him (they did)

charlie brought home a cat one day and didn’t tell anyone, and james only noticed it when he woke up to it sitting on his face on morning. seeking out the culprit, he immediately knew it was charlie, as the boy was a horrible liar, and they ended up keeping “kitty” the cat. (ron named him)

peter had a home office type thing and percy spent a lot of his free time with him there, he’d sit at his desk and pretend to work like peter does, and peter often let him look over some of his ministry work, the marauders started calling him “mini pete”

george decided he wanted hair like sirius’ one day and nobody knows how he got black hair dye or why, but lily came home to a mess but george was smiling so brightly and so she let it be.

ron has a keen liking to salsa and nobody knows why, but for his snacks he demands salsa and so they have to stay stocked or he’ll get grumpy

the whole family has matching necklaces and i take no criticism, it was sirius’ idea and everytime fred sees someone without their necklace he calls them out

THE WHOLE FAMILY GOING TO WATCH JAMES QUIDDITCH GAMES! harry is on sirius’ shoulders and remus has ron and ginny, all of them have face paint and are screaming so loud they can’t talk the next day. james always plays his best when his whole family is there, and he totally shouts out each of his kids when they win

the marauders make valentine’s day a HUGE deal, they get each kid their own box of chocolates and a stuffed animal for the younger ones (bill and percy get books they wanted), they gets a bunch of balloons and flowers and make a whole day saying how much they love them

of all things, charlie likes bird watching. he’ll sit in the yard for hours watching the birds fly by, sometimes remus comes out and joins him, other times james came out and fell asleep next to him. charlie was just happy to sit there with his dads

percy was always nervous to ask sirius things but sirius always answered with patience and caring and made sure it never sounded like percy was stupid for asking such things, and sirius quickly became someone percy went to for everything

when charlie finally understood what an animagus was, he desperately wanted to be one, he was fully convinced he could turn into a dragon if given the chance.

ginny was teething and would out literally EVERYTHING in her mouth, including padfoots tail, which sirius complains about.

fred most definitely started a food fight more than once, successfully getting flour, egg, syrup, mac and cheese, AND half a burger in james hair

during christmas, the marauders let percy decide how to hang the lights outside because they love seeing his bright eyes as they enthusiastically compliment his decisions and maybe sometimes the lights are a mess but they’re all happy anyways

u know those macaroni necklaces? yea charlie made sirius one and sirius never takes it off, stating it’s “the best piece of jewelry he owns” and when his coworkers ask, he proudly says that his son made it for him

the first time one of the kids got seriously hurt, all hell broke loose. it was george, and they were at some muggle playground when james first heard the loud cry of “daddy!” , all 4 of them were up and running before they could blink. sirius and peter were the ones to get there first, and also were the ones to apperate george to the hospital. remus went on a frenzy, yelling at the parents around them to demand who pushed his baby off the swings. james was scared shitless, but had to be the one to calm remus down and get the rest of the kids back home. george was fine, a sprained ankle, but james wouldn’t leave his side at all for like 2 weeks

one time a teacher said charlie had a bad temper and was not a good student, so sirius went to said teacher himself and demanded to know why she thought he was “bad.” apparently he just had problems paying attention and she was just a dumb teacher so is sad of yelling at her (he totally wanted to) he simply got charlie moved to a more understanding classroom

harry and ron share a room, and apparently had been hoarding muffins for 2 weeks and lily found them while she was cleaning and coudlnt help but laugh because they both are so much like remus

most days peter was in change of lunch and had the worst time because all of the kids were as indecisive as it gets and half of them wanted sandwiches and the other half wnated mac and cheese and charlie wouldn’t sit down long enough to even say what he wanted and when he did all he said was “fruit snacks”

percy had to get glasses and was super neevous about how they looked, but james was in his “super dad” glory and constantly told him he looked smart and like he could beat sirius in a fight, percy didn’t mind wearing his glasses all the much after that

sometimes it was hard to keep track of which kid liked which thing, so the had “snack boxes” for each of them filled with the different things they liked because charlie hates veggie sticks but ron loved them, and harry could eat apples for days but fred didn’t like the skin.

bill extremely misses his family at hogwarts and so he constantly talks about them. the professors had a bit of a shock when he talked about all 4 of his dads, and some had a run for their money when they heard who his dads were. they’re only saving grace was that bill took after lily in wanting to study and actually do well.

CHARLIE AND GEORGE LEARN TO MAKE FLOWER CROWNS AND REMUS NEVER TAKES HIS OFF !!!

while they are normally a very rowdy and loud family, there are plenty quiet nights where all the kids pile onto blankets and pillows on the living room floor and sirius and james join them while remus, lily and peter make hot chocolate and those times they just bask in the love and contentment of the family

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awsugawara · 4 years

Text

bnha hcs with an artsy s/o [1/?]

i’m going to make this a mini series, so expect to see this AND haikyuu characters too :) i will also do the k-pop hcs too, so look forward to that !

note: your quirk will be the same all around, if implied you have one!

Quirk: AMBIENT ILLUSION - with a single touch of your hand or glance, you are able to make your opponent think that they’ve been taken to another “realm,” but in actuality their body movements mimic those in the illusion; it’s a quirk that can be used for good or for bad; your creativity isn’t limited, but the side effects are headaches, nausea, and sometimes insanity for a short period of time until your stamina runs out or unless someone knocks you out

Hero Name: Chiaroscuro or Chiasu [for short]- referring to the major contrast of light and dark in an image; in italian it is said to literally mean light-dark

enjoy :)

---

s. aizawa

> teacher x teacher scenario tyvm

> you were a popular teacher at U.A., teaching in some of the general studies classes as an art teacher

> students in class 1-C, D, and E would flaunt how cute/hot and talented their pro hero of an art teacher was

> midnight was gossiping about you with present mic and aizawa overheard

> he knows you have your own agency, so how you double that plus being a teacher was beyond him

> “oh midnight! i was actually looking for you :)”

> aizawa-seeing-a-cutie.exe has stopped working.

> for someone who is low energy and stoic for the most part, this was new

> got more acquainted with the other teachers, but you were really close with aizawa

> funny thing is,,,you and aizawa met up a lot after school and you eventually started dating

> the other pro heroes at the school only found out is when midnight had walked in on them kissing

> the students found out about the relationship when aizawa walked you to your next lecture class as he left class 1-A with present mic

> aizawa glared at them and as soon as he left, your students pelted you with questions, until the teacher told them to quiet down

--- k. takami

> keigo is like a SIMP for you

> he practically with go out of his way just to buy you new art stuff

> “babe...i don’t need anymore sketchbook paper...i have an office at the school and they supply my paper-”

> “you can never have enough, my dove”

> you work at U.A. as an art teacher and met keigo when you were walking home from the school

> you had a run in with a villain, who was on a mission to kidnap you and he swooped in to save you

> your art was scattered all over and some destroyed and keigo caught a glimpse of them and noticed your U.A. badge

> “you’re a teach at U.A.?”

> keigo walks you home, if you chose to stay late to work on your art

> when you first started dating, he was wondering why you would stay so late, and you had to explain your quirk to him

> he wants to be your #1 source of ideas, but he gives you space when you’re truly at an artist roadblock

> when he took you flying for the first time, he vowed to take you every now and then because seeing how your eyes lit up at the city below made it worth while

--- t. shigaraki

> shiggy treats you like glass

> i see him as someone that really admires you and your quirk, let alone your ability to be able to create such fine pieces of art

> you were a lone wolf, who met dabi, who introduced you to the league

> when shigs laid his eyes on you for the first time, he was SMITTEN

> childishly rants to kurogiri when you and dabi are out patrolling

> “why do they always have to go with that burnt piece of shit”

> #getrekteddabi

> shiggy sucks at socializing and it doesn’t help that you always have a resting bitch face™

> you’re actually a softie and a sweetheart at heart, but you notice shiggs advances and are quite confused

> “uhm...hello, tomura-senpai,,,is there something i can help you with?”

> rip shiggy from the CUTENESS

> one day when you didn’t show up at the base and dabi did, shigaraki and kurogiri gave him a look

> “oh, if you’re looking for Chiasu, they’re at home sleeping...idiot stayed up painting again.”

> shiggy left after demanding dabi to reveal their location

> when he got there, he rang the doorbell and questioning why he came because this really isn’t something he does

> “hmm? tomura-senpai? what are you doing here?” **rubs sleep out of your eyes**

> he felt his heart leap

> “i came to see my s/o after being told that they stayed up working. now, are you going to let me in or am i going to have to force myself inside your house?”

--- dabi

> you were at witz end with your life as a pro hero

> you weren’t depressed or anything,,,just bored,,,no ideas or fighting spirit

>one day, you had happened to run into dabi committing one of his oversized fires

> he tried reading you, but all he got was just your stoic, almost sad, expression

> you hadn’t moved and he was walking toward you, stopping and moving his face down to your level

> “well, well what do we have here?”

> you hadn’t remembered much from that day, but you hadn’t run into dabi and the only time you really left your house was to get more art supplies and food

> when you were trekking home on the same path, dabi stepped from the shadows in front of you

> you just gave him a blank look and tried to side step him, but obv he didn’t let you

> what happened next was probably the most shocking,,,he embraced you

> you didn’t know what to do other than cry...for losing your fighting spirit

> after that day, dabi would check up on you frequently and eventually he convinced you to stay with him, so he can stay with you

> it took about 2 months to get you to smile and boy was that worth it

> you were grateful of dabi for sparking [pun not intended] your creativity

> “if you’re so grateful, why don’t be mine?”

--- h. toga

> innocent is how toga would describe you

> her attraction to you was much more different than the times where she’d feel the need to cut someone up

> she wanted you in one piece, unharmed

> so she dragged you to be apart of the league of villains with her

> shigaraki was skeptical letting in a quirkless civilian into the league, but he found your ability to design and draw potentially useful

> dabi likes to mess with you to rile up himi

> “you lay another burnt hand on my s/o, i WILL cut you”

> himi doesn’t like the fact you’re close with some of the LOV members, so she whisks you away to her room or somewhere that’s not the base

> if you go to school and you’re adamant in finishing, himi will kinda leave out the villainous aspects of her life so you can finish

> if you go to school and you really don’t care for it, she’ll try to convince you to become a full fledged member of the LOV rather than an associate

> the mission with the yakuza was probably super nerve-wrecking for you after you saw it on the news

> you were greeted with a toga at your door that evening and you just glomped her and expressed how concerned you were, knowing what her role in the mission was

> himi met you online and then began kinda figuring out when you went to your fav cafe and art store and what you like to buy and the such

> attentive, but psycho was how you described her at first, but just accepted that aspect of her

---

k. chisaki

> for someone who looks like a plague daddy- doctor none of the members of the yakuza would have imagined him dating a cutie with a QUIRK

> for starters, you kinda once over the media on the yakuza, more so concerned with your art

> so when you accidentally ran into kai one evening, you kinda just shrugged it off and continued to walk home

> he was so confused like didn’t you know who he was?????????

> nonetheless, he saw you again, while you were making your way home from the convenience store with your [fav. drink + snacks]

> “oh hey! i remember you!” **insert tense kai** “you’re that guy from the other day! how are you?” **cue confused kai**

> you didn’t really have much of a reaction when you FINALLY put two and two together on

> “you’re a part of that villainous yakuza, right?” **insert tense kai** “it’s okay i won’t tell, i like you too much to turn you in :)” **cue confused kai**

> he wasn’t sure whether to be more concerned about the fact you’re letting him, a villainous yakuza go, or the fact he is starting to develop feelings for you

> regardless, kai had “kidnapped” you more like you willingly agreed to stay with him, hidden away somewhere, where you were safer

> he allowed you to continue your artistry, but he made sure to stay away at least from that aspect of your life

> he wanted you to feel like you had those forms of freedom with the line of work that he was involved in because he loves you very much

> BONUS: you held a grudge on kai for keeping eri hidden away from you and for what he did to her and got a couple of hits on his ass, but you stayed with her and aizawa after kai was arrested

---

sorry some of these are short or kinda are,,,,idk bad? ^^;

#bnha headcannons #aizawa x reader #hawks x reader #bnha x reader #shigaraki x reader #overhaul x reader #kai chisaki x reader #himiko toga x reader #dabi x reader #keigo takami x reader

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hualianff · 3 years

Text

Mi Amor(tentia) II 《I》

Every Sunday, XL personally delivers the ingredients to HC to restock after each week. Sometimes it’s during the morning before classes, HC inviting XL to stay and chat over coffee.

Other times, it’s in the middle of HC’s classes because XL’s only has so many chunks of free time to drop the ingredients off. XL usually keeps himself scarce as he helps himself to deposit the ingredients off on HC’s desk in his office.

On days XL is especially busy with classes, meetings with outside personnel and tending to the school’s greenhouse, his sixth-year teaching assistant, BY, will deliver ingredients to HC.

HC is easily the person XL enjoys spending time with the most. They have such fun conversations and HC makes XL feel so comfortable and listened to. Plus, HC is undeniably charming and handsome. XL thanks whatever higher power there is that someone as refined as HC took XL under his wing.

XL has learned and observed that HC is a professor that students either love or hate. Some perceive the potions professor as sketchy-looking and unfair in his grading. They take HC’s pushing as ridiculing, then complain about their poor marks after refusing to do the bare minimum of the assignment.

(Unbeknownst to HC, XL has taken it upon himself to passive aggressively warn these students from bad-mouthing HC in the hallways.)

Understandably, The first year students absolutely cower in HC’s presence. But from fourth year and up, HC is one of the most loved professors. When HC begins to passionately lecture with really big hand gestures and funny word combinations, the students can’t help but admire him with starry eyes.

(Student: “Hua Lao Shi, I don’t think ‘impossibleness’ is a word.”

HC: “It is now. As I was saying, don’t let the impossibleness of a goal influence your confidence in working towards it. You should not pay attention to whether something is possible or not, but rather focus on what steps you’re taking to find your answer.)

He’s clearly smart; intellectually based from the readings he assigns students from his own books; socially as his humor is always on point and he never misses a beat to tease his students; and emotionally because HC does not tolerate bullying in his house or his classroom. (Nor in the school, if he can help it.)

HC himself was bullied back in the muggle orphanage and during his time at Hogwarts. He knows what it feels like to wake up dreading going to classes and interacting with people who had nothing better to do than put others down.

So while HC can seem intimidating and blunt at first, he genuinely has his students’ best interests and wellbeing in mind. Witnessing how seriously HC takes his job as a teacher and trusted adult figure, XL’s feelings wrap around him like vines and squeeze him in their hold anytime he’s around HC.

XL’s never had a crush like this before.

Later in the semester, XL and HC are chosen as the professors to monitor the first years on their first trip to Hogsmeade. There is no doubt the transfiguration professor, SQX, took part in pulling some strings to make this happen for XL.

What no one knows is that the defense against the dark arts professor also played matchmaker. In an intense game of wizard's chest that unfortunately ended in his defeat, HX was forced to nominate HC to go with XL.

HC and XL make the best guides. XL is very enthusiastic in answering first years’ questions while HC is good at describing things through muggle terminology.

During his years at Hogwarts, XL has always loved the Hogsmeade trips and bought new candies from Honeydukes each time. In fact, he has a huge sweet tooth that he can never satisfy. Cue XL showing the students around Honeydukes and HC buying all of XL’s favorite goodies in the background.

When it’s time to move on to the next store, HC presents the bagged sweets to XL with a smile.

(XL, staring at the bagged sweets: “San Lang! You shouldn’t have!”

HC, grabbing XL’s hand and physically transferring the bag: “Nonsense. Gege deserves a reward for working so hard lately. Giving him a few candies is the least I can do.”

XL, clutching the bag tightly, fingers tingling from brushing against HC’s own: “If you insist. Many thanks, San Lang.”

XL snacks on some sweets for the rest of the trip. HC watches with a pleased eye.)

One day during finals week before winter break, XL falls ill with a terrible migraine. He’s been prone to migraines for a while now, which he’s used to enduring with medicine tablets that don’t do much to ease the pain.

XL manages to get through his morning classes. But by lunch time, his stomach pain worsened tenfold to which HC, who planned on having lunch with XL, convinced the herbology professor to take the rest of the day off.

“But my classes-” XL’s voice breaks off as he winces as another wave of nausea sweeps through his body. HC puts a comforting hand on his shoulder.

“I will fill in for you,” HC assures. XL looks like he’s about to protest, however, the potions professor holds a finger up to his lips. “I can quickly brew something up for your pain. You like the smell of eucalyptus, right? I can add a faint scent to soothe your sinuses too.”

“San Lang…”

HC fixes XL with a pointed stare. XL’s face softens, eyes closing in defeat.

“Thank you,” he says gratefully. Without thinking, HC reaches over to cup XL’s cheek, sliding back to tuck a strand of hair behind his ear before massaging his temple.

“It’s not a problem. Gege needs rest.”

Luckily, HC doesn’t have afternoon classes lined up for the afternoon. Once XL has retired to his room to relax, HC settles behind XL’s desk as students filter in for class to take the final exam.

(Students who had potions that morning entering the herbology room: “Oh shit-”)

Between classes, HC completes the tasks written in XL’s planner he left during lunch. Unfortunately, HC has a certain TA who sidles up next to him out of nowhere, whispering inconspicuously, “I know you have the hots for Xie Lao Shi.”

HC, who had been marking scrolls, jolts in shock. His left hand streaks across the parchment, leaving a red trail in its wake.

(Student who receives his scroll with a huge red line: “The fuck???? Does this mean it’s wrong? Do I need to do it again?”)

HC ignores BY as he continues about his business. Except BY rolls a chair right beside the desk, her prying eyes making HC feel like he needs to cover more than just his right eye.

“Tell me everything.”

“There’s nothing to tell.”

“Liar.”

“Watch how you speak to your professor, young lady-”

“Watch how you speak to your professor, young lady,” BY repeats in a nasally voice. HC tightly clenches the pen in his hand. BY, unfazed about testing HC’s patience, sighs pitifully. “Sorry, Hua Lao Shi. I swear, I’m only trying to help.”

“Help with what?” HC asks, attempting to remain oblivious. BY gives HC a deadpan. “Ok, fine. How could you possibly help?”

“Well, I heard that Xie Lao Shi might be crushing on another professor-” HC chokes on his spit. “-and maybe you two…”

BY taps the tips of her pointer fingers together.

“What!?” HC aggressively clears his throat. The scrolls are long forgotten now. “H-how do you know?”

“He told me,” BY reveals, smirking like the devil’s child.

“Who is it? Tell me more,” HC demands.

“Ah ah ah–you first.”

HC can’t believe this girl who has him cornered is the same timid third-year transfer student who couldn’t even look him in the eye. He bites his tongue, reluctant to discuss his person of interest with a seventeen-year-old. BY just sits there, looking unbothered as she examines her nails while waiting for HC to cave.

It doesn’t take more than ten minutes before HC admits it.

“Fine. Yes, I like Xie Lao Shi.”

“What do you like about him?” BY asks immediately. HC itches to take points from Hufflepuff; what is this, an interrogation?

To no one’s surprise, HC spends the next half hour praising XL’s selling points (which are all of them) and subtly hinting how plans to ask the herbology professor out soon. BY unhelpfully inputs that HC needs to confess his feelings first.

“And then he needs to accept your feelings too,” she adds, much to HC’s irritation.

“I thought you were helping me?”

“I am,” BY smiles innocently. “By listening.”

“You’re not going to tell me who…?” HC falls silent, glaring at the last scroll he finished grading. A glance at his watch indicates there are fifteen minutes left before the final class of the day begins.

“Of course not. I don’t go around spilling professors’ secrets, especially Xie Lao Shi’s,” BY says. HC nods in resignation.

BY doesn’t tell HC shit in the end, yet somehow made him unload a few things about his feelings regarding XL. HC supposes she was right about the listening part.

Must be some sort of witchcraft. (HC tells himself that XL definitely would’ve laughed at this thought.)

Strangely, HC feels better after this little confessional session. Though he is incredibly curious as to who has caught XL’s eye in this school. HC’s heart painfully twists in on itself at the possibility that it’s anyone but him.

HC desperately hopes BY’s rule about not sharing secrets applies to him as well.

《III》

#tgcf #heaven official's blessing #hualian #hualian au #xie lian #hua cheng #HP AU #cerdrabbles #TBC #Banyue is menace #she and HC are close though #XL simps club #no I still don’t support JKR

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whitehotharlots · 3 years

Text

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.

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opera-ghosts · 3 years

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Aino Ackté was the most renowned Finnish female singer at the turn of the 19th and 20th centuries. Having started her career as a lyrical soprano at the Grand Opera in Paris, she went on to achieve fame throughout Europe as a star of dramatic operas. The role of Salome, a part in which she embodied the modernism of her era, produced her greatest international triumphs. Aino Ackté later directed her musicality, energy and capacity for hard work towards the advancement of opera in her homeland. She was a notable cultural personality of the early 20th century.

In 1893, when the 17-year-old Aino sang in a concert given by her mother, Emmy Achté (1850 - 1924), her voice, talent and appearance immediately attracted attention. She stepped into the limelight from within a family circle which had provided her with the foundation for her musical training. Her mother was an ambitious and enterprising force in the musical world of Helsinki; in addition to an extensive operatic repertoire, she possessed skills as a teacher and organiser. Aino's father Lorenz Achté (1835 - 1900) was a versatile musical figure: a composer, opera singer and conductor. Without the aid of her mother's energy, Aino's career would not have proceeded so swiftly, although right from the start she had eminent supporters in Finland, including Oskar Merikanto (1868 - 1924), later to become a faithful accompanist. In addition to studying in Stockholm and Dresden, Emmy Achté had attended the Paris Conservatoire; and Paris was chosen as the place for Aino's studies, both for the quality of teaching and the opportunities that opened up to those who were accepted by the conservatory and studied there.The Paris Conservatoire represented the acme of French musical culture. Perhaps judges on the panel for the 1894 entry test were surprised by Aino Ackté's sound basic training, the Nordic clarity - to French ears - of her voice and the young woman's earnest manner: their unanimous decision to award her first place among the 197 applicants for Henri Duvernoy's singing class and Alfred Girodet's opera class is an indication of Ackté's early-acquired excellence. Her French training steered the course of her career, though she later made notable decisions not based on her schooling.The three years of study at the Conservatoire were not a purely positive time. Ackté had a foretaste of the competition that prevailed amongst singers. Duvernoy was an able and strict teacher who guarded his favourite pupils jealously and ordered them around in a dictatorial fashion. Ackté's mother also seemed excessively protective at times. Ackté changed the H in her surname to K because she was teased: pronounced in the French manner - achetée - the name meant 'bought (woman)'. Her ambition, sense of purpose and capacity for hard work soon became apparent. Her important examination concerts were sometimes a disappointment to her, but she wound up her final year by winning the first prize with her renditions of arias from Verdi's Rigoletto and Gounod's Faust. This assured her of a position at the Paris Grand Opera - then known as the Théâtre National de l'Opéra, where she had already been noticed earlier.The Grand Opera was the national stronghold of French music, especially after it was finally possible in 1875 to inaugurate its magnificent building following the Franco-Prussian war. The post of director of the opera made its occupant one of the country's most important personages. Pierre Gailhard (1848 - 1918), who had made a career as a baritone, had become the assistant director back in 1884, and with a few interruptions he remained in positions of leadership until 1908. Gailhard generally supported Ackté, who later remembered the director as a "monumental" figure. But he also demanded return favours - as in 1899, when he linked the renewal of his own and Ackté's contracts and used Ackté as a go-between in negotiations with the relevant minister. In Paris, Ackté adopted the grand-opera style, which aimed at an impressive stage presence in addition to a high standard of singing. In such a school the lyrical soprano began to develop into a dramatic one.In 1897 the Grand Opera signed a two-year contract with Ackté. Her début appearance as Marguerite in Faust was a breakthrough, and room was made in the following week's programme for three Ackté Evenings; there were four opera performances a week. Even back in her conservatorium days, Ackté's voice had been compared to the bright, clear voice of the Swede Kristina (Christina) Nilsson (1843 - 1921); the words 'clarity' and 'purity' were often

used to describe Ackté's voice as well. Nilsson, who had ended her career before Ackté's time, had achieved great success in the United States, and it was not only a positive thing that Ackté was later compared to Nilsson there. Nilsson's example may have contributed to Ackté's decision to retire from performing while her voice was still at its peak.Ackté's début was well received in Paris, with a few exceptions due to 'singer politics'. In Finland, which Ackté visited every year for both holidays and performances, her harshest critic was Karl Flodin (1858 - 1925). He was sometimes inconsistent, praising the singer in the Nya Pressen newspaper and criticising her in Euterpe, of which he was the editor. The young generation at Euterpe - its real cultural group - admired and supported Ackté, and this led to conflict with Flodin. According to Ackté's surmise, Flodin's attitude had its roots in the Finnish state scholarship for studies in Paris awarded to her and not to Flodin's future wife. Ackté's success led to other envious reactions as well in Finland. These included the playing down of her positive critiques in France. But in general, the genuine reviews were favourable: Oskar Merikanto was open in his admiration, and he wrote rejoinders to Flodin and others. Later on, the tone of reviews was more qualified in Sweden and the United States than in Germany and Britain.In addition to the part of Marguerite, Ackté's successful early roles in the older operatic literature included the part of Alceste in Gluck's opera of the same name and of Benjamin - a rare boy's role in her career, which she sang in 1899 - in Méhul's Joseph. In Gounod's Roméo et Juliette the leading female role was well suited to Ackté; it had also been a favourite role of Nellie Melba (1861 - 1931). When Gailhard was reappointed in 1900, he engaged Melba on a short-term contract. Melba's and Ackté's repertoires had the same characteristics; Mozart and Donizetti were relegated to the sidelines. Ackté continued to consider herself the primadonna; her competitor in the company was Lucienne Bréval (1869 - 1935), who can perhaps be regarded as the main soprano on account of her long-term engagement. There were not many new works - not even French ones - in Gailhard's cautious repertoire. It has been said that the opera house presented well-known works suited to gala performances for visiting royalty. Thus Ackté was later obliged to sing Micaëla in Bizet's Carmen, a role which she regarded as "written for old maids". Her most important new role was that of Nedda in Leoncavallo's veristic I Pagliacci - it was a sign of the singer's attempts at self-renewal.In 1900 Ackté put in much hard work at the Paris Exposition: along with Albert Edelfelt, she was regarded as a cultural ambassador, and her familiarity with Paris and her diplomatic skills - at the tender age of 24 - contributed to the success of the Finnish pavilion and to Finland's presentation of itself as an autonomous and cultured nation. Edelfelt had followed Ackté's career from the start, and factors that united them included their spiritual kinship as supporters of Alfred Dreyfus. Edelfelt's warm admiration - which was reciprocated - is evident in the portraits that he painted: his large full-length portrait of the singer (1901) reveals his subject's purposefulness and personal aura.Ackté's personal life gave no cause for gossip - which was regarded as an exception at the Grand Opera. But initially the company was opposed to her marrying. (From her student days on, she had been secretly engaged to the lawyer Heikki Renvall.) However, during her new period under contract at the turn of the century, marriage seemed advantageous for Ackté. The wedding took place in Helsinki in the spring of 1901. When the primadonna made her first gramophone recording the following year, she announced herself as 'Madame Ackté from the Opera' and signed the disc accordingly.The poor recording technology of the pioneering age of the gramophone cannot conceal the

brilliance and sureness of her voice, as can be heard in her breakthrough piece, the 'Jewel Song' aria from Faust. The records also give an indication of Ackté's fine coloratura technique. The French language, in which she also sings German and Norwegian songs, does, however, create limitations; and a few recordings soon proved outdated as far as interpretation was concerned. A fire at Edison's before the First World War destroyed about thirty of Ackté's recordings which were ready for pressing. Gramophone records did not acquire the same importance for her as they did for Enrico Caruso (1873 - 1921).Ackté appeared on the stage with Caruso aboard the ship that took her to America. The Metropolitan Opera in New York had been wooing Ackté for some time, and this gave her the opportunity to break free from the stale routines of the Grand Opera. The Metropolitan engaged her for a total of two years from 1903 to 1905. She joined the company at the same time as Caruso but did not achieve the same degree of success. The public had its favourites, who were often representatives of the Italian rather than the French school. Ackté could not adjust to the style of criticism of the musical journals, regarding it as corrupt. The programmes of the Metropolitan's famous continent-wide tours show that Ackté took second place to the American Emma Eames (1865 - 1952), who had already returned to the company from Paris in 1891. The Swedish-American Olive Fremstad (1871 - 1951) and the Croatian Milka Ternina (1863 - 1941), whose voice Ackté admired, were among the main stars. Ackté noticed that the beautiful American Geraldine Farrar (1882 - 1967) was singing some of her star roles in Paris and saw the same thing happening at the Metropolitan. The return to Europe was a relief. Her closer acquaintance with Wagner's operas may be considered a positive aspect of her time in New York.Ackté continued to make guest appearances at the Grand Opera in Paris, but she sang ever more frequently at the main opera houses in Britain and Germany, now taking soprano roles in Wagner's The Mastersingers, Lohengrin, Tannhäuser, The Flying Dutchman and Siegfried. Puccini's Tosca and Massenet's Thaïs, with their passionate roles, had also been added to her repertoire. In Germany solo tours made her well known throughout the country. In France she was well known only in Paris. The season of German opera at Covent Garden in 1907, during which Ackté was a success in Wagner roles, brought her to the attention of the London public. But while performing in Cologne in the spring of 1906, Ackté had heard Richard Strauss (1864 - 1949) rehearsing an opera whose challenges attracted her: as Salome, Ackté made a decisive shift to the modern operatic art of her era - if not to the extreme avant-garde.Ackté turned to Strauss for guidance and worked assiduously to learn the difficult role. Strauss also persuaded her to perform the Dance of the Seven Veils herself, and this opened up a new dimension in her acting skills. She made the part of Salome into a dramatic performance that stressed the passionate rather than the 'perverted' nature of the role. Interest was also aroused by her style of acting in the role, a style which was influenced by Sarah Bernhardt. An integral aspect was Salome's orientiental-style costume, which the singer had had made at Worth's, the leading Paris fashion house.During the première of Salome in Leipzig in April 1907, Ackté also became aware of the physical difficulties of the role, feeling that she had miscalculated her strength. But in Dresden, where the world première had been held, she was already carrying the part through to a triumphant final scene which became a sort of Ackté trademark. She regarded the role as the high point of her career. It is thanks to the fact that in 1910 she was the first person to sing Salome in England that she has gone down in the annals of London opera. There permission had finally been granted for a production of Strauss' opera (though in the opinion of

both Ackté and Thomas Beecham, who was directing the Covent Garden season, the libretto had been censored to the point of absurdity), and the première was a splendid operatic and social success. The leading critic and Strauss scholar Ernest Newman (1868 - 1959) wrote that Ackté acted and sang with indefatigable spirit and telling characterisation.Ackté had sung the world premières of Sibelius' song Höstkväll ('Autumn Evening'), which he dedicated to her, and Jubal, and she hoped to persuade the composer to accompany her on a tour of Germany in spring 1911, when a performance of a new song with orchestral accompaniment that he had composed for her could be given. Ackté's triumph in London was clouded by a telegram from Sibelius informing her of his rejection of the tour and of the composition, which had already been drafted. The singer was justifiably offended, though she promised to perform songs by Sibelius in future. In 1913 Sibelius sent her Lounnotar ('Nature Spirit'), which she regarded as a work of genius and extraorinarily difficult - though she performed it successfully in Britain. Sibelius had earlier stated in the press that he considered Ackté the most outstanding interpreter of Salome that he had heard. In 1913 Juhani Aho submitted to Sibelius a stage adaptation by Ackté of his novel Juha, which had been published in 1911. The singer hoped to interest the composer in it, but Sibelius never composed a Juha - though both Aarre Merikanto and Leevi Madetoja later did so.In Helsinki, where Ackté produced, directed, sang and danced Salome in 1911, she had publicly brought up the issue of the need for opera. In the same year she and Edvard Fazer (1861 - 1943) founded the Kotimainen ('Domestic') opera company, at whose opening night she sang the main role of Anita in Massenet's La Navarraise. She had translated the libretto into Finnish, and she directed the production. Later operas produced by Aino were directed by Emmy Achté, whose experiences during the golden age of Finnish opera in the 1870s encouraged the enterprise. Ackté's energetic activities extended to Savonlinna, whose Operatic Summer she directed from 1912 to 1916 and again in 1930. The productions staged at Savonlinna included Finnish works such as Aino (1912) by Erkki Melartin (1875 - 1937) and the musical Talkootanssit by Ilmari Hannikainen (1892 - 1955); in dictatorial fashion, Ackté forced Hannikainen, who had inherited Merikanto's position as her accompanist, to compose the latter work. As late as 1938 - 39 she was asked to be the director of the Finnish Opera. She put together a magnificent autumn season; even Joan Manén's Nerón y Acté, rarely performed thereafter, was a success. However, the expenditure on guest performers, sets and costumes incurred by Ackté led to a dispute with the management, and she submitted her resignation.The singer's operatic career was already drawing to a close with her guest appearances at Covent Garden and elsewhere on the eve of the First World War. During the war, which prevented her from performing on the Continent and facilitated her farewell to the stage, she appeared in concerts and some operas in Sweden (Thaïs, 1915) and at home. In Finland the numerous singers with whom she worked at the opera were able to regard her as their teacher.During the first decade of the century Ackté had become estranged from Heikki Renvall, from whom she was officially divorced in 1917. In 1919 she remarried, her new husband being the general and provincial governor Bruno Jalander (1872 - 1966). She assisted him in a number of ways, making notes on his experiences in the Caucasus and during the period of turmoil in Finland (1932) and participating in activities in support of Finnish volunteers in the Spanish Civil War.In her youth Aino Ackté had translated the Lastuja ('Shavings') short stories by Juhani Aho, an author whom she greatly admired, into French and had published some in Paris journals. The short anthology Muistoja ja kuvitelmia ('Memories and Fancies', 1916) reveals

among other things her wistful admiration for the late Albert Edelfeld. Ackté's proper memoirs (1925, 1935) have been described as subjective, but they constitute the most solid body of material on Ackté's career and operatic surroundings, both on and behind the stage. They reflect firmness of purpose, but also the uncertainty that faces a young singer in situations of conflict. In her art, Ackté was serious and uncompromising, but her 'Parisian' way of describing human relationships shows an eye for some of the comic situations in her life. She was not an analytical thinker, but from the standpoint of the late 19th century, her views on the role of Salome, for example, can be considered modern. She is said to have stated in connection with her London appearance: "Isn't there a bit of the Salome in all women?"Aino Ackté made her reputation as a French opera soprano in Paris and went on, through Wagner roles, to the dramatic parts of the new operas Tosca and Salome - a remarkable train of development, though it did not extend to the later works of Puccini or Strauss. She achieved her greatest international triumphs as Salome, a role through which she participated in the modernism of her era. Her peak period on the opera stage (1897 - 1913) was complemented by her work in support of opera in Finland.

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delicioussshame · 3 years

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Sugar daddy AU: new chapter. That’s it, that’s the fic.

The world has never stopped spinning for Shen Yuan before, so why would it now?

He’s sure Luo Binghe is thrilled with his current situation. If he really wanted to create a perfect bubble where he would be the center of Shen Yuan’s universe, he has succeeded beyond his wildest dreams. He’s been all Shen Yuan has been able to think about. The moral conundrum of considering whether you’re attracted to your former student, and if so, whether you can and should accept his affection, has been dominating his every moment. Each time he thinks that yes, he could see himself allowing this, allowing Luo Binghe the more he has so visibly been craving, he falters. In a way, it seems like a culmination of all his failures; a failed career he’s a disgrace to and a return to values he’d sworn to leave behind with his family.

But maybe, just maybe, Binghe would be worth it. Shen Yuan thinks if anyone could make those concerns seem ridiculous with only the power of their presence by his side, it would be Luo Binghe.

All his hesitations don’t stop his heart from freezing in his chest where the school sends an email regarding his teaching plan for the upcoming term.

It takes him a few minutes to calm down, to ride the wave of anxiety that returning to the beat of regular employment brings. He hasn’t looked forward to returning to class for years, but after those sweet weeks spent doing nothing but relaxing? Facing coworkers that were at best indifferent, at worst downright abusive for the sake of disinterested students is such an unappealing prospect that it almost gives him nausea.

He’s been too spoiled. Shen Yuan normally spends the summer working part-time jobs to make ends meet. This year, Luo Binghe had swiped all those worries away. One of the first things he’d done was tell Shen Yuan that he’d be paying his rent for now, like he would be providing for all his other needs. Shen Yuan had protested, but he’d known it was pointless. How was he supposed to stop Luo Binghe from sending money to his landlord?

Without those preoccupations, Shen Yuan had permitted himself freedom from work in general. He had spared not a thought to that most unpleasant matter. His romantic life, if it could be called that, had demanded all his attention.

Now, enough was enough. This had been fun, but Shen Yuan had a job to do. No matter how much he dreads it, he has to review his lesson plan.

Such is life.

_________________

It takes Luo Binghe only one cursory look at Shen Yuan to notice something went very, very wrong. His dear teacher is tense, hunched over his desk, hand on his forehead as if he’s trying to hold a headache at bay. Shen Yuan hasn’t appeared this stressed since he set foot inside Luo Binghe’s home. He radiates distress like he did that day, when Luo Binghe went to visit him and found him on the verge of collapse.

Back then, all he wanted was to stop that collapse.

That conviction has never faltered.

Gently, Luo Binghe taps Shen Yuan’s shoulder. “Laoshi?”

Shen Yuan doesn’t turn. “Binghe, not now. I’m busy.”

Luo Binghe glances at the document he’s worked on, and swears inwardly. Is all it took to reverse all the progress they made a reminder of that dreaded job?

Shen Yuan isn’t going back, and that’s final. “Why is Laoshi wasting his valuable time on this? Doesn’t he trust his Binghe?”

Shen Yuan turns toward him, annoyance visible on his face. “What does trust have to do with this?”

He stays firm. “I told Laoshi all I wanted was for him to be happy and healthy. I promised I would do anything for this to happen. His job doesn’t make him happy. Why would he return to it? He still has a few days to send his notice in time. He can leave the school behind and stay with me instead.”

Shen Yuan rolls his eyes. “Binghe, don’t be ridiculous.”

“I’m not. I see no reason why Laoshi should go back when he doesn’t need to work.”

“I do need to work. I can’t rely on Binghe’s good will for the rest of my life. Sooner or later, he’ll get tired of paying for an old man and will look to buy a younger, sweeter companion.”

There is so much wrong with this sentence Luo Binghe is struck silent. Shen Yuan knows better than this. He’s just in too fool a mood to act like it.

He regains control of himself. “First, Laoshi must never talk of himself like he’s a passing fancy I feel like throwing money at. It’s insulting both to yourself and to my love for you. Second, he can rely on me however he wants to. If he’s not secure with his current position, that can be dealt with. I will happily pay whatever lawyer he chooses to draft any arrangement he deems agreeable. I can transfer him a set amount of money each week that he can manage at his discretion. I can also give him a lump sum, significant enough that if something were to happen, he could live by himself, though he’s already my will’s sole beneficiary. Work is unnecessary.”

At this, Shen Yuan shakes. “I’m sorry? Did you just say that in the event of your death, you’re leaving me everything? Me?”

Luo Binghe doesn’t know why Shen Yuan is so surprised. “Who else? Laoshi knows I have no family. I have no plan to die before Laoshi, but if it were to happen, that’s no reason not to keep my promise.” It won’t, of course. Luo Binghe won’t allow it.

“Are you serious? That’s something you do for a spouse, not a dumb childhood crush.”

He genuinely thought they were over this. “Laoshi isn’t a crush. He’s someone I’ve been in love with for since I was a teenager. Didn’t I say I wanted him by my side at all times? I planned consequently.” If Shen Yuan wants children, modifications will be made to the will, but this won’t be happening anytime soon. For now, Luo Binghe wants him all to himself.

“I… We’re not even a couple yet! Binghe is being reckless! If he’s this open, what’s stopping me from fleecing him for all he’s got and leaving him destitute!”

Luo Binghe laughs, encouraged by the “yet”. “Laoshi would never. He’s too good a man to do such a thing.”

“I could! Binghe thinks he knows me so well, but the truth is he doesn’t. He’s got this image of me as a saint, as a person without flaws nor desires, but he’s wrong. Every day, I take advantage of Binghe’s kindness.”

Shen Yuan is the one who doesn’t know himself. “Taking what’s freely offered is not taking advantage.”

“It is when no sane person would make the offer!”

“Does Laoshi think me insane, then?”

“Well, no. I know Binghe is very smart.”

“Then why not trust I know what I’m doing?”

“Because you don’t!”

This is going nowhere. “I know exactly what I’m doing. I’m making Laoshi happy by keeping him from a job that is killing him.” He sighs. “If Laoshi absolutely feels like he needs to earn his own income, I will support him until he finds a decent job, or will pay for his continued education so that he can find something better, but I would much, much prefer he doesn’t bother. It’s stress he doesn’t need, for no reason. I just cannot accept his return to a school that has only one good point: him. It’s not good for him. As I said earlier, whatever he needs as collateral to feel safe, I’m willing to provide, as long as he does what’s best for himself.”

Shen Yuan looks speechless.

Luo Binghe doesn’t flinch.

“Every time I think Binghe must be fooling himself, or fooling me, he goes and does something like this, something that no one else would do, as if to prove his honesty. He makes me feel like an idiot.”

“That must be novel. I imagine someone as wonderful as Laoshi doesn’t feel that way often.”

“Just most days of my life.”

“Then his life must change. Laoshi should only feel good.” Which is something Luo Binghe would gladly help with, no matter when and where.

He takes Shen Yuan’s hand in his; presses a chaste kiss to the top of it. “Please. Don’t go.”

Silence rests heavy on his shoulders for a while, until Shen Yuan breaks. “I’ll consider it.”

Luo Binghe embraces him and decides to wait.

_________________

The notice is sent two days later.

_________________

One moment Luo Binghe is preparing to go to bed, the next Shen Yuan, still damp from the shower, sits on his lap and kisses him.

It takes Luo Binghe negative one second to respond in kind, to open his mouth and to kiss back, his arms snaking around Shen Yuan’s waist to pull him closer and keep him there. Laoshi is the one who initiated! Luo Binghe can’t allow him to take it back.

Not that it seems like he will. Shen Yuan doesn’t struggle at all as Luo Binghe deepens the kiss, as his hands find the buttons of Shen Yuan’s sleeping shirt and open a trail he follows with his mouth. His laoshi’s breath fastens as Luo Binghe acquaints himself with his chest, fingers dancing over his ribs and down the gentle curve of his back.

Such good behavior has to be rewarded.

He does lift his eyes to Shen Yuan’s before removing his pants.

His beloved doesn’t say a word as he turns his gaze away demurely, but the caress in Luo Binghe’s hair speaks volumes, as does the seductive way he opens his thighs. If Shen Yuan has finally accepted his advances, how could Luo Binghe refuse him?

There are so many things Luo Binghe dreamed of doing to his Laoshi. He wants to spend hours worshipping him, keeping him in a state of unforgiving arousal until he begs for release. He wants to prepare him carefully and take him gently, painlessly, until all of Shen Yuan’s stress has left him and he’s barely conscious. He wants to fuck him until he screams. He wants to ride him languorously, for hours on end, until his body has taken the shape of Shen Yuan and no one else’s. He wants to be tied to the bed and used until he’s crying for mercy, and then be denied that mercy. He wants to go to work wearing the mark of Shen Yuan’s teeth high on his neck proudly, knowing his laoshi is wearing the exact same mark at home. He wants to fill him up with a remote-controlled toy and bring him to ecstasy during those interminable board meetings that would at least have a purpose, for once.

But for now, all he wants is to get to know all of Shen Yuan.

Shen Yuan startles when Luo Binghe presses a kiss to his rapidly filling length, but he doesn’t protest. Good for him, because Luo Binghe isn’t sure he could have stopped. Not when he finally gets to find out how he tastes, how he sounds, how beautiful he looks when he flushes from pleasure.

He moans around him when Shen Yuan’s fingers twist into his hair. Shen Yuan could fuck his throat anytime, if he wanted to. Luo Binghe wouldn’t mind choking for him.

Maybe he could overcome that reflex with practice.

He would love to try.

It takes little time for Shen Yuan to groan and try to pull him off, which is a futile endeavor. Like Luo Binghe is going to waste any gift of Shen Yuan.

He greedily swallows it all down when Shen Yuan bites back his student’s name and digs his nails into Luo Binghe’s scalp.

Luo Binghe has never been this hard. “Laoshi, Shen Yuan, please.” He’d take anything. He’d rut against his leg if Shen Yuan would allow him to. “Please.”

Shen Yuan is bright red when his beautiful hand wraps around Luo Binghe’s cock, pulling and stroking in an awkward, unexperienced hold that Luo Binghe knows he’ll never get enough of. Just the sight of those white fingers on his feverish skin is enough to enthrall him. How is he going to last when they grow skilled? He’ll embarrass himself like the teenager he isn’t anymore! Even now, it takes all he has to last a few minutes.

He thought no sight could be fairer than Shen Yuan in pleasure, but the view of his fingers and chest covered in Luo Binghe’s come is so overwhelming Luo Binghe wishes his love was the type to allow for recording. If it were his face despoiled so… Luo Binghe would probably not soften at all.

Hopefully Shen Yuan will let him.

Another time. While Luo Binghe himself could easily keep on going for the rest of the night and the day after, what has happened tonight was probably a lot to ask of shy, proper Shen Yuan. Luo Binghe tries to soothe his exaltation, instead exploding in praises and endearments for his visibly embarrassed lover.

Luo Binghe ignores his attempts at distancing himself, instead holding him in his arm until Shen Yuan quiets and closes his eyes, waiting for sleep to take him.

_________________

Well, that happened.

It wasn’t… It was fine.

Okay, it was more than fine. One can only lie to themselves for so long. Luo Binghe is devastatingly handsome and convinced he loves Shen Yuan, for some reason. He’s not immune to that much charm!

He was kind. Shen Yuan had been as mentally prepared as he could be to find himself pushed on his back and taken, but Luo Binghe had waited.

Shen Yuan fully expects it will happen sooner or later. He’ll deal then. It will be hard on him, because quite honestly, he’s not sure anyone on Earth is built the right way to accommodate Luo Binghe, but he’ll do it. Binghe deserves it.

If he’s that serious about providing for Shen Yuan, he should get his money’s worth. Shen Yuan couldn’t live with himself otherwise.

#The Scum Villain Self Serving System #Scum Villain #BingQiu #That AU where LBH and SY fail to negociate their sugar relationship

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professorsnape394 · 3 years

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The Potions Master’s Apprentice

Chapter Seven: Potions Lessons

A/N: This is the seventh part to my fanfiction ‘The Potions Master’s Apprentice (Severus Snape x OC)’. Chapters 1-16 can be found already uploaded on Wattpad under the same name. Feel free to leave requests in my inbox for anything Snape related you want me to write. Leave a comment below if you wish to be added to my tag list.

Pairing: Severus Snape x OC (Dumbledore’s Granddaughter)

Summary: A talented young witch is employed as an apprentice professor at Hogwarts, but who will she be working under? Severus Snape is not best pleased with his new responsibility of taking on an apprentice, however she is relentless to create a friendship between them. Will she be successful? Or might the friendship just go a little two far? With the eyes of her grandfather constantly watching over them, an attempt at a relationship might not be in the cards for Aria Dumbledore and Severus Snape.

Word Count: 2831

Warnings: n/a

Credits to Gif Creator

The orange glow emitting from the floating candles lit the room as the dark star lit sky twinkled above. A distant rumble of thunder filled the Great Hall as the row of Professors sat awaiting the students arrival. Professor Dumbledore sat positioned in the middle of the top table, hands clasped in front of him, a subtle smile resting on his ageing face. On either side of the Headmaster sat the Deputy Headmistress and Head of Slytherin House, while his granddaughter nervously clicking her heel under the table next to the former.

"Don't worry, my dear, you'll be a great professor." Minerva whispered to her colleague, clutching onto her hand.

With a simple double clap from the Headmaster the grand entrance to the hall slowly opened to reveal a clamorous horde of students; from all years and houses. Just as quick as he had summoned them, Dumbledore silenced the crowd immediately after everyone had found a seat. Moments later a small cluster of first year students rushed into the hall, their faces a sea of shock and amazement, almost all of them turning their heads to view the exposed sky above them.

Teachers sat patiently while the children were sorted into their respective houses, the rest of the students however quickly became rowdy, cheering for the students that became part of their house and jeering against those who weren't; particularly the young Slytherins. Aria shook her head disapproving at the clear separation of the student body, wondering why the professors allowed for the other houses to discriminate against the Slytherins.

"I wanted to apologise for last night." Minerva spoke in soft tones. "I was a little merry from all that wine and the excitement of being back at Hogwarts. I was out of line, I should know better than to provoke Severus."

"Don't worry about it Minerva" Aria whispered, reaching out to clasp her hand again, reassuringly. "It was kind of funny when you think back on it. Besides you never done anything wrong, Snape completely overreacted to the whole thing, I mean It was obvious it was meant to be a joke ."

The two witches exchanged a comforting smile and squeeze of the hand, before turning to enjoy the feast.

When everyone seemed full enough from the feast Albus rose to his feet, stepping out to a podium at the front of the hall. He started with the same old reminder to the first years that the dark forest was off limits as was the village of Hogsmeade to all students below their third year. Aria had almost begun to zone out when she was brought back to reality by a loud groan from the students as Dumbledore announced the Quidditch inter-house cup would be cancelled this year. Straight away Aria's attention was pulled to the red headed Weasley twins sitting off to the left of the hall, heckling the headmaster, devastated they would be missing out on playing there favourite sport. Aria chuckled to herself, glad to see the boys again.

The objections from the hall soon came to a halt, not by Dumbledore's upcoming announcement, but by a deep rumble of thunder filling the room, followed by the screams of students as a bolt of lightning pulsed through the sky. Another fork of lightening shot through the sky, illuminating the wounded disfigured face of a suspicious man who had just hobbled into the room. Aria could not take her eyes off the dark silhouette of the man, the only part of his body visible in the shadows was the large unnerving electric blue glass eye which shot about in his head aimlessly, the stark contrast of the fake eye only emphasised when his small black beady one was revealed in the candlelight. The man limped towards the Headmaster, every eye in the room on him.

"Perfect timing." Dumbledore grinned. "May I introduce to you, our new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher, Professor Moody. And on that note I would like to also present, My granddaughter and your new Potions Assistant, Professor Aria Dumbledore." Aria stood for a second, smiling to the crowd and gave a small curtsy before once again taking her seat. Less than enthused by his introduction, Moody immediately took his seat at the end of the top table, allowing Professor Dumbledore to continue with his speech.

"As I was saying, the Quidditch inter-house cup will not be taking place this year due to Hogwarts having the honour of hosting the Tri-Wizard Tournament. Dumbledore proceeded to explain the details and rules of the tournament before introducing the competing schools; Beauxbatons and Durmstrang. The excitement among the students only picked up as the opposing schools joined the great feast, each conducting a small show for everyone to enjoy. Aria's nervousness had long passed and she was now thoroughly enjoying the meal with her newfound friends and coworkers. However the silence between Aria and Severus remained as a thick air of tension settled over the Professor's table.

First period the next morning Aria was set to assist Snape in teaching first year Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw's. She stood at the front of the Potion's classroom, her presence commanding but not intimidating. Aria couldn't help but grin as she watched the new students excitedly chatting away in hushed tones, enthusiastically awaiting their first ever class at Hogwarts. She felt sorry for them knowing their expectations were soon to be let down. Rocking slightly back and forth on her heels, Aria took one last look over the days schedule. She was determined not to give Severus a reason to criticise her today. Speaking of which she was shocked to find the man late for his own lesson.

Just as the thought entered her mind, the loud crashing of the door opening caught the attention of the entire room. The billowing cape of Severus Snape dramatically wafted behind him as he rounded his way around the children's desks and towards the front of the class.

"There will be no foolish wand waving or silly incantations in this class." He commanded, the velvety monotone of his voice silencing the class. Aria took a step back, not wanting to risk getting in his way as he begun to scribble on the chalkboard behind his desk. "For the select few of you who possess the appreciation for the subtle art that is potion making I can teach you how to bewitch the mind and ensnare the senses. I can tell you how to bottle fame, brew glory, and even put a stopper in death." Snape enunciated.

Aria continued to stay out of the professors way, waiting for her cue to participate in the lesson. A cue which never came. She stood off to the side, her feet burning from standing so long in the one position, a feigned smile painstakingly plastered on her face, trying her best to keep up appearances for the sake of the students.

It was clear from the look on their faces they were enjoying today's lessons just as much as she was, her heart ached for them, their dreams of having a magical Hogwarts experience was crushed in their first hour of lessons.

Snape continued to teach for the rest of the day pretending like Aria wasn't even there at all. Aria chose to stay silent. Snape's rude demeanour giving her the perfect excuse to report him to Dumbledore for not carrying out his duties as her mentor; allowing her to participate in the teaching of his classes. Not giving him the satisfaction of her arguing she simply walked away at the end of the teaching day, leaving him alone in the class wondering why she simply gave in to him.

This was made clear to him when he was called to Dumbledore's office that evening to discuss the days lessons. Both Dumbledore's sat looking smugly as the Potions Master entered the Headmasters office refusing to take his seat next to the young woman when it was offered.

"I thought I made it abundantly clear Severus that Aria is to assist in all of your lessons." Dumbledore begun, not entertaining the man's supercilious act.

"I thought I made it clear, Headmaster, that I will not work with this woman. I respect she is your granddaughter and you felt the need to give her a job but I will not compromise my teaching for her childish demands."

"Severus, this is your job." Dumbledore said, his tone sharper than usual. "If you will not abide my commands then I shall have to take action into my own hands. Until you chose to cooperate, Aria will teach all potions lessons alone. You will have no interference or participation in any class until you agree to work in partnership with her. That is all I have to say on the matter." He finalised.

"Thank you, grandfather." Aria shot Severus a self-satisfied look, and rose from her seat, pleased with the outcome of her enquiry. Severus seen no point in objecting in fear of making the situation worse. The glare on his face simply intensified. He made to leave, just as did Aria. The two as stubborn as each other refused to stay behind and so they left side by side, the ever growing tension between them more apparent than ever.

"So that's how it shall be, will it?" Severus seethed through gritted teeth. "I do something you don't like and you go running to Granddaddy?"

"It worked didn't it." She chirped with a slight shrug of her shoulders. "Besides, there wouldn't be a problem had you not chose to ignore me all day. I do not want to step on your toes Severus, but if you refuse to work with me, I will do everything in my power to change that. I'm here to assist you, to help you. Utilise me! Stop thinking of me as your biggest enemy and start thinking of me as an asset. We could accomplish so much together." The witch pleaded. Severus shot her a look of confusion and slight disgust. "Professionally speaking." She finished, clearing her throat, making it clearer what she meant.

Snape huffed, in response, continuing to walk on, though they both kept a steady pace, remaining side by side all the way to the Dungeons. Showing no sign of stopping for the final word as he reached his private quarters, Severus huffed to himself in a rage of malcontent. "See you tomorrow." Aria called to him, her tone dripping in sarcasm.

And with that Severus slammed the door to his chambers putting a final end to the conversation.

For eight days Aria was left to her own devices, happily teaching potions her own way to the students. Depending on his mood Severus would either sit at his desk, muttering irritably to himself in disapproval. Other days he would be feeling more confident and he would consistently make snarky comments regarding her teaching style. And sometimes he wouldn't even show up to class at all. It didn't take Aria long to suspect what he might be doing during those long days he sat alone.

On the ninth day Severus had had enough. He couldn't take it any more. He hated feeling idle. He hated not feeling needed. He hated that students loved the way she taught. And he hated that one day Dumbledore might come to his senses and realise she was just as capable of teaching as he was and he would no longer be needed at Hogwarts.

That night after the Great Feast Severus went to the Headmaster's office and quietly gave in, agreeing to work in partnership with Miss Dumbledore. Aria was impressed by Severus' decision and could not wait to gloat victoriously when she saw him at breakfast the next day.

However when it actually came time for Aria to proudly shove her successful accomplishment in Severus' face, she didn't have the heart to humiliate him. It had been a good few days since she had saw him last and it was clear the time alone had not done him any good. Though he usually had a look of exhaustion about him the dark bags under his eyes were worse then ever, the lines across his face deeper and his general aura was less dangerous and intimidating dungeon bat and more exhausted sleep deprived man. He almost seemed more human to Aria now he was more reserved and timid than his previously obnoxiously arrogant self.

She let him lead the lesson and done as she was asked when she was asked. Snape was happy to use her skills to his advantage and was glad he had an extra pair of hands to take on the physical aspect of the lesson when he became too tired to move from behind his desk. The pair managed to maintain a professional dialogue for the whole day, with little to no arguments as Aria kept her mouth shut and Severus respected her position as his assistant.

By the end of the teaching day Severus was practically falling asleep behind his desk as he made his way through the stack of paperwork he had collected throughout the day. Struggling to keep his eyes open Severus ran a hand through his hair, resting his head in his hands and let out an painful groan of exhaustion. As Miss Dumbledore finished collecting in the small pewter cauldrons she took the opportunity to have a real conversation with the man in front of her.

Letting out a sympathetic huff, Aria couldn't help but give him a sad sort of smile. She pulled a seat over to the desk and waited for Snape to notice her. Although she hadn't known him long, and of course it was clear to everyone he was not the most well balanced human in terms of sleep and work, she could confidently say he looked to be at his worst. A small scruff of a beard threatening to form had appeared from the past days of forgetting to shave and the man could barely keep his heavy eyelids open.

"Can I help you, Miss Dumbledore." Severus grumbled, slowly moving his hands from his head to look at the young woman. "What is it you want?"

"Are you okay, Severus?" She spoke softly, genuinely concerned for the man.

"I'm perfectly fine, Miss Dumbledore." His slightly slurred words saying differently. "Not that it is any of your concern." He mumbled, once again turning to his stack of paperwork.

"What happened to you." Aria muttered more to herself than Snape. The professor looked up at the woman, who had now become preoccupied with straightening out her skirt. Snape let out a final sigh and sat his quill to the side, ready to fully invest in the conversation with the woman.

"What are you mumbling about, woman." He asked, though his tone was not as harsh as it could have been.

"I am truly, truly sorry, Professor." She confessed. "I knew you were unhappy about my being here but I hadn't realised how much it would have took a toll on you. I mean sure I wanted to mess with you for a bit just to give you a taste of your own medicine, but look at you."

"Despite what you may think, you are not the sole reason for my lack of sleep, Miss Dumbledore." He spoke softly, his captivating gaze catching her own. He seemed to be reassuring her more than doing it for the thrill of proving her wrong.

"I'm not?"

"You are not even half the reason. Though you can take full credit for the sudden peak in my blood pressure." Aria couldn't help but chuckle at the comment, and she could have sworn a brief smile flashed across Severus' face too.

"Do you want to talk about what's got you in such a state." The woman pried.

"Not even slightly." He droned, breaking eye contact, once again picking up his quill.

"Clearly its bothering you, I don't imaging keeping it bottled up will do much good."

"I said I don't want to talk about it." He replied curtly. "Now if you could please take your leave, your assistance is no longer required."

Aria thought it best not to aggravate the man more given his current state and chose to obey his command, giving a small nod before heading for the door.

"Miss Dumbledore." Snape called out, just as she made to leave, forcing to spin on her heel to face him. "I'll be okay." He assured, giving her a comforting nod before immediately turning back to his work.

Speechless Aria could only smile in return. Not only had they both had a successful day of teaching and a perfectly civil conversation but Snape had even gone as far as to reassure her, knowing if he hadn't she would have blamed herself for his deteriorating condition.

The soft click of the door closing felt as if it had been amplified a thousand times as the feeling of loneliness engulfed Severus.

Taglist:

@ayamenimthiriel

#severus snape #severus snape imagine #severus x oc #severus snape one shot #Harry Potter #harry potter and the goblet of fire #harry potter fanfiction #severus snape fanfiction #severus snape x reader #severus snape x y/n #alan rickman #potions master #potions masters apprentice #dumbledore #dumbledores granddaughter #severus snape fluff #severus snape smut

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hopekiedokie · 3 years

Text

Mall is Life | INTRO : She’s Broke, He’s Broke, We’re All Broke!

Summary: Your dad thinks it’s best for you to pay off the credit card that you just maxed out. Meaning, it’s time for you to finally get your very first job…at the mall. As a true blue spoiled daughter from a very rich family, what could possibly happen? Form a labour union and overthrow the oppressive government with 7 other underpaid and overworked guys??? Or maybe just form a bond with them and have the best time of your life?

Pairing: bts x reader

Genre: mall!au, lowkey a sitcom, fluff, eventual angst, and a whole lot of pure crack

Word count: 5.3k+

Notes: As I’m doing final rewrites for this, I overheard my co-teacher call one of our students a “crack” and I honestly have never related hard to a student. Anyways, transferring this from gdocs to tumblr took sooooo long. I literally aged 10 years. I didn’t think writing in this style would be such a pain so I really do hope you enjoy this! Keep safe and hang on while the world still seems like it’s on its way to destruction.

Posted on: 8th of Jan, 2021

— • masterlist | Character Guide | INTRO | next • —

Red

Red is all you see.

Your vision has been clouded by the colour red since the moment you stepped inside the mall.

Sale season is upon you and red tags are everywhere!

Buy one get one for a girlfriend sized “boyfriend t-shirt”, a free cookie if you get 7 drinks, 5% off on your next purchase from Kucci and… Gasp! 75% off for a light sabre handheld immersion blender???

Do you even cook or watch Star Trek or whatever it’s called? Heck no.

bUT IT’S MORE THAN HALF OFF and it looks cool so might as well get it.

Right?

You saunter off towards the sights of free or marked down signs to start making damages.

“Ehem.”

The sound of your best friend, Taehyung’s voice, freezes you in place and you feel like a kid caught in the act of stealing a candy.

Literally, you have both your hands in front of you with your mouth open and watering.

“Just what do you think you’re doing?” His hands are placed on his hips, like a slightly inconvenienced Karen.

“Oh, uh...I was just, you know!? About to admire the general splendour!”

He was like, ya right sweetie.

“Shut up. This isn’t a Jane Austen book.”

Well, one can dream.

And lowkey, you were kinda expecting him to not get the reference.

…or even understand what you just said.

Damn.

You really need to give Taehyung some credit.

He is after all, your best friend and that is an achievement in itself.

“Focus, y/n. FOCUS. We’re here on a mission, don’t get distracted.”

Ugh, right.

Reality hit you again like a ton of bricks.

“And as if you can afford anything! Unless, you’re in for some service water.”

You scoff hard.

Though he isn’t lying.

See, the thing is, your family is rich.

Like rich 𝑹𝑰𝑪𝑯.

Like “rent a whole stadium for your dad’s morning run” rich

You, alone, though?

ʰᵉ ʰᵉ ʰᵉ

“Sorry, you’re absolutely right. We’re here for one thing only and that is to find a job! We’re not leaving until we get one.”

And that’s what you did for the next two hours

Job hunting

You might be wondering, “If we're so rich then why are we looking for a job?”

Well kids, let me tell you a quick story.

Here’s what happened

A week ago, you had probably the most embarrassing yet most eye opening experience of your life.

You were shopping

(like duh do you have anything else to do?)

And your credit card got…

Wait for it…

…………….

🚫DECLINED🚫

◉.◉

Like, that can happen????

Next thing you know, you’re on the phone with your dad and he is MAD

You don’t even know why he is so pressed about it.

Okay, so you maxed out one of his seemingly endless supply of credit cards.

BIG DEAL.

It’s not like he lost a bunch of money.

Maybe to a normal person, yeah…

BUT to you guys?

Come on! He can earn that money back in like two days.

Besides, he always goes on saying that he'd willingly give everything for you, his one and only princess.

bUT NOoOOoo! He has to teach you to be rEsPoNsIbLe with money! You need to be a 𝒔𝒆𝒏𝒔𝒊𝒃𝒍𝒆 𝒑𝒆𝒓𝒔𝒐𝒏.

"What? You think I'm a money making machine here?"

Well, tbh he kinda is.

"You think money grows on trees?"

Well, technically, money is paper so...ya it kinda does.

"I don't slave around just so you could plunge yourself in all of your whims!"

Uh, actually.

You kinda do though if we refer back to your whole willingly-give-everything-to-you shtick.

So that wasn't real, huh?

ＡＬＬＭＥＮＤＯＩＳＬＩＥ.

smh

Taehyung, on the other hand...

Well, his mother’s old but rich sugar daddy just recently passed away and unfortunately all his money and prized possessions were inherited by his one and only beloved son.

All they got was a couple of stupid jewelry, which did allow them to pay for a new (less glamorous) apartment, but still

Eh.

What a complete disappointment.

11+ years of being a sugar baby, all for nothing.

So now it’s back to the slums for the both of them.

Sad reacs for a fallen warrior.

I’m talking about Tae’s mother, not the sugar daddy...

THOUGh rip for him. Uh,,,,

He’ll be missed? I guess???

(1 like of this post = 1 respect for him)

DW about his mother though. She doesn’t seem quite fazed by it.

“This is why if you find a rich old bastard, make sure he doesn’t have any kids. That or have an affair with their kid. Oh well, on to the next one.” She told you and Tae during the funeral.

It’s been three months since.

She’s currently working at a hair salon and also,,,,

Taehyung thinks she’s seeing someone again cause she’s been using her designated “𝑠𝑒𝑑𝑢𝑐𝑖𝑛𝑔” parfum.

WHICH you still don’t know if you should be impressed or be concerned about.

Nonetheless, you respect the hustle of this woman. ✊✊✊✊

Unfortunately, her efforts are still not enough to satisfy their expensive needs so that brings us to the present situation.

Actually, it couldn’t have been more perfect though!

You and your best friend coincidentally just happen to be in the same dilemma.

Kind of

Well, not really

Plus, it’s not really the most pleasant circumstance bUT STILL

The point is, you’re in this together and that’s enough for the both of you.

:’)

“Ugh, this totally blows.” Taehyung says as you both sit on one of the food court booths.

“Which one, us not getting any jobs yet or the fact that we’re hanging at the food court?”

“Get used to it, princess. Honestly, you'll find that the food here isn't as disgusting as you think they are." He says as he fishes for his phone in his man purse.

"Well, at this rate, I won't be able to get used to it since I sTILL haven't found a job. Why are the good stores so demanding? Like, an intensive classroom and in-store training only to have a possibility to get hired??? To think that I'm a loyal Louie Button customer!"

(A/n: This is actually a real procedure for Louis Vuitton, at least in my own experience. But I only applied and never went through with the training cause I figured that it just ain't for me.)

You continue ranting your little heart out about how you could sue these stores for unfair treatment.

Taehyung, though, has long tuned you out and has pointed his full attention to his phone.

This is turning out to be a lot more disastrous than what he anticipated.

So he needs to phone a friend in.

Orrrrr a couple.

He's getting desperate, okay??

The entire spring collection was practically screaming out to him when they entered Kucci.

He's a 𝓚𝓾𝓬𝓬𝓲 𝓫𝓸𝔂 through and through.

He hasn't missed a single Kucci season collection in years.

IN YEARS, PEOPLE!

He can feel his right eye twitch at this blasphemy.

"I'm telling you! These stores are absolutely ungrateful-hEY! Are you even listening??"

"No. I thought that was obvious the second I whipped my phone out."

( ͠° ͟ʖ ͡°)

Rude

He didn't even try to deny it.

"You know, I really don't need you to be mean to me right now."

"Sorry y/n but this…" He lifts his phone up, "is more important right now."

What could possibly be more important than your current problem??

If you don't leave today with any form of productivity, you just might have to sell the entirety of your closet.

And we all know that ain't happening.

"By 'that', you mean?"

His phone vibrates a couple of times, indicating that he just received a bunch of messages.

He instantly opens them, disregarding you once again.

I-

Seriously, thIS bOy!

"Hello???? I'm still here and we're still hideously unemployed!"

He looks up to you with a smile that seems a tad bit too eerie.

Okay, this is somewhat alarming ngl.

"I called in some reinforcements."

Reinforcements... Huh?

What's that supposed to mean?

You stare at him with scrunched brows and mouth slightly agape.

And as if on cue, a male voice rings from behind you.

"Tae! We're here!"

"Jimin! Seokjin hyung!"

Ohhhhhhh

*Looks at the camera*

Them.

♫︎DUN DUN DUN♫︎

For everyone's information, Taehyung grew up a hair away from the poverty line.

He was in his preteen years when their family found success through his mother's sugar daddy.

He didn't grow up rich whICH there's NOthing wrong WiTh THAT.

A person's financial status does not define them.

Taehyung's friends, however, already have a collective definition in your head.

One word

༼ つ ◕◡◕ ༽つ MESS™

♫︎DUN DUN DUN♫︎

A hot mess you are so not willing to become a part of.

Tae keeps them away from you because he knows that they are not the type of people you would associate yourself with.

Which is why you've never met any of them.

...Until today.

♫︎DUN DUN DUN♫︎

Guess being besties with a broke Taehyung means it only makes sense that you finally meet them.

♫︎dUN dUn- ok that's enough of that.

"We got the Code 17 message. I can't believe I'll ever get that from you. This is history, man! We need to celebrate!" Someone says accompanied by what sounds like someone wiping a window.

You look at Taehyung with a very displeased look.

May god and every higher being out there give you strength.

He doesn't even look the slightest bit bothered by what might be one of the boldest crossovers to ever happen.

Also, "Code 17"??? Wth?

"What's wrong? You never ask to meet at the food court… And who's this with--oh." A different, softer voice talks this time.

"You guys remember my bestie, right? Y/n? Well, I think it's time you guys finally meet."

From behind you, Seokjin and Jimin share a slightly wary yet excited look.

Jimin, being the natural people lover that he is, instantly thinks that he's about to have another best friend.

From what he's heard from Taehyung, you two are slightly alike, being a total softie.

So don't be surprised if a montage of things like the two of you going on picnics at the mall garden or watching the premiere of the next Disney movie plays in his head.

Seokjin, on the other hand, being the woman lover that he is, instantly thinks that he's about to score big time.

He's heard a lot about you from Tae but the only thing that stuck (and pretty much the only thing that matters) is that you are HELLA rich.

$ ℂ𝕙𝕒𝕔𝕙𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕓𝕒𝕓𝕪 $

So are we even surprised that what he imagines is him breezing through the luxury section of the mall, with his personal butlers in tow, and having everyone swoon at him?

“Y/n,” Taehyung gives you a pointed look as if telling you to be nice. “Meet Seokjin hyung and Jimin, two of my other best friends.”

Alright, you heard that these people work here at the mall.

So you’re gonna have to suck it up if it means being stuck with them for god knows how long.

You just hope they have some level of bearableness.

(Oh and some form of acceptable fashion taste too please, thank you very much!)

As much as you're not in the mood to smile, you still plaster on the sweetest one you can muster and turn around to face the two----

(o.O)

oh oh oh oh ho ho ho ho

Hello

hELLO indeed.

One of them has a white button up with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, black slim fit trousers, and a brown newsboy cap like a cherry on top.

He's also wearing a brown apron with a small name tag that says 𝓙𝓲𝓶𝓲𝓷.

The other guy's more casual with his baby pink t-shirt, french tucked into his black ripped skinny jeans.

Personally, you wouldn’t really call them amazing outfits…

bUT SWEET BABY JESUS ARE THEY DOING THINGS.

GREAT THINGS

(Tbh maybe it’s their handsome faces that do it for you)

"Hi, I'm Jimin! It's very nice to finally meet you."

He extends his hand and you take it in a heartbeat because my god that smile.

Wooooooooooo

Now, that's what greets you into heaven.

"Tae says a lot of good things about you and I think- oof."

Cute pink shirt guy (rudely) shoves him to the side.

Jimin almost topples to the ground and it makes you want to stand and check up on him.

The poor cutie.

For some reason, you feel like Taehyung and pink shirt guy get along well.

"AND I'M Seokjin!"

This time, Seokjin swiftly takes your hand without any warning which leaves you feeling flustered.

“Umm… Nice to meet you..?” You manage to politely croak out.

He gives your hand a kiss and then drops you a sultry wink.

Thank god you're sitting right now.

You'd be a lying fool to say that that didn't make your knees weak.

But ngl, that’s a face that definitely greets you into hell.

Like, no offense to his handsome face but you are sure there’s something completely devious going on underneath.

No one can change your mind on that.

"OKAY! Enough introductions, we’ll have plenty of time for that later... Where are the others??”

“Hoseok hyung said that he's with Jungkook and they're on their way to get Namjoon hyung." Jimin says as he fixes his hat that slightly slid off.

"Well, they better hurry!"

Taehyung DEFINITELY did not have any reasons to cut your introductions off.

He just did not like how you are practically drooling over Jimin and Seokjin.

He’s nOT JEALOUS OR ANYTHING

It’s just...

It’s not like you’ve never been close to any hot guys before.

Uh hello???

HE’S HOT

And you’re with him 24/7

Wait…

Do you even think he’s hot???

Okay now that’s a thought he never considered before.

Damn bro

Now Tae’s having an existential crisis…

anD hE’s dEfiniTEly NOT jEALous!!!

ᕙ(⇀‸↼‶)ᕗ

"WE'RE HERE!"

All four of you direct your heads to the sound of a new voice and you start to think that Taehyung might actually be playing a joke on you.

Come on!

THREE 👏 MORE 👏 HOT 👏 GUYS 👏

???

This can't be real.

This is literal heaven!

Gasp!

Are.

You.

DEAD?!

Maybe you're right about Jimin being what greets you into heaven!

It all makes sense.

“Dude, we came as soon as we could. We even pulled Namjoon out of his rabbit hole.” The handsome one wearing a sports jersey says.

“This better be important. I didn’t even get to ask permission to take a break! I’m supposed to be stocking utensils right now.” The handsome one wearing an atrocious outfit of a bright blue shirt and a much brighter yellow pants chimes in.

The handsome one wearing loose fitting jeans, a plaid button up and a black t-shirt underneath just stayed at the sidelines not saying anything.

Out of all of them, you think he’s the most stylish one.

Your eyes meet while you are assessing his outfit but he instantly looks away.

A noticeable blush blooms on his cheeks and you almost swoon.

Awww he’s extra cute.

“Yeah, cause organising cutlery is more important than a friend in a literal crisis.” Taehyung says in a sarcastic tone.

“So what are we doing here?”

“What is this ‘crisis’ you are referring to?”

“Yo, who is she?”

Namjoon, Jin, and handsome jersey boy all talk at the same time.

Ugh you need a massage.

Being surrounded by these broke handsome men is making you lightheaded.

“This is Y/n. You know, my other best friend.”

“Oh, your money buddy.” Handsome jersey boy butts in.

Uh EXCUSE YOU, WHAT’S THAT SUPPOSED TO MEAN?

You scoff hard and loud.

Taehyung clears his throat and you thought he was going to make a comment defending you or something.

Oh honey, you are wrong.

Because for the nth time today, he just brushes you off.

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever. Anyways, Guys, meet Y/n. Y/n, this is Hoseok hyung, Namjoon hyung, and Jungkook.”

You didn't think it'd be possible but for the first time ever, you so badly want to rip someone's hair out.

And not just someone, it's Taehyung.

Normally, a sassy, moody, rude boy Taehyung doesn’t affect you at all.

But then again, his negative vibes were never really directed to you.

And given the current circumstance, you’re also not in the best mood as well.

So you aren't as inviting as you usually are when you shook hands with the three boys.

Somehow, even their overflowing handsomeness did not do anything for you now.

Your presence, however, did something to the three boys.

AND I MEAN A LOT.

Confused, attracted, intimidated, confused, in awe, slightly scared, nervous, confused, hungry…

What? Hoseok hasn’t had lunch and coincidentally, he started feeling his tummy rumble when he looked at you.

…..

Fun fact: Hoseok is DEFINITELY NOT A CANNIBAL NOR HE EVER PLANS ON BEING ONE.

If ever you were thinking...

“Okay, so here’s the sitch.” Tae starts to explain your situation and everyone listens to him intently.

Little did you all know, the final member of the friend group just arrived at the food court and is now walking towards where you all are.

It wasn’t difficult to spot your group with Namjoon’s obnoxiously brightly coloured towering self and the few girls hanging around.

Probably Jimin’s fanclub.

“And so, here we are!” Tae finishes, keeping everyone updated.

"Wow, so you two are looking for an actual job? Like, here? At the mall??" A very baffled Seokjin asks.

Tae rolls his eyes.

"Yes. Is that really hard to believe?"

"Actually, yes. It is."

Another male voice is heard coming from someplace.

“Yoongi hyung!”

Oh great! Another one.

Surely, this guy’s not that interesting.

I mean, what are the fricking odds that he’s also an immaculate being??

You turn around and your mouth drops to the floor.

No no no no no.

No way!

Another freaking gOOD LOOKING GUY HAS WALKED UP TO YOUR GROUP.

Okay, this is getting unbelievable now.

Is this the real life? Is this just fantasy?

Like, where and how on earth did Taehyung manage to get and round up SIX insanely good looking guys??

What is this? Are you on The Bachelorette??

Wait no

It's like Oprah!

And instead of cars, she's giving away handsome men

You get a hot Asian man, you get a hot Asian man, you all get a hot Asian man!

OR MAYBE

Are you on MTV Punk'd?????

Statistically speaking, a hot guy can have two or maybe three equally hot best friends

BUT SIX???

ARE YOU KIDDING?

Is Taehyung like Thanos? Collecting the six infinity stones?

Thanos? lol.

If anything, he's more like Henry VIII with his six wives.

“So you guys didn’t even wait for me, huh?”

Yoongi, oh so casually, just takes a seat beside you

Without even giving you a single glance or whatnot.

“I didn’t know you'd be here at the mall today?”

“Yeah, what are you doing here?”

Yoongi raises an eyebrow. “It’s a free country, I can be here whenever I want to be.”

Well, can’t argue with that logic.

The mall is practically your second home at this point.

“... Also… uTunes is hiring and uh… I’m applying...”

You don’t understand why but everyone else looks either shocked or annoyed at Yoongi’s announcement...

Are you missing something here?

“Man, you need to give it up! That place can suck it.”

Yoongi gives Seokjin one of the scariest glare you’ve ever seen.

It could rival against your dad’s famous death glares that he gives to his incompetent subordinates.

Namjoon shakes his head disapprovingly, “You’re applying there again?? I can’t believe it.”

Yes, again.

This is going to be the seventh time he’s applying at uTunes Records, the most popular music shop there is.

So many people flock to it even though we’re already in the digital age.

But he doesn’t question it.

All he cares about is getting a job there because the employees get to play their own music in the store.

Do you know how much of a popularity boost that is?

A CRAP TON.

On top of that, one of the employees gets a chance to get signed by a record label every year.

And if you're not awarded by that chance, you can still meet agents and get signed through their many parties.

Because of that, so many people also apply for a job there.

But they unfortunately have such high standards which is why even after three years, he still hasn’t passed their vibe check.

"Listen, seven's a lucky number. I have great feelings about this one. Besides, I've built up a strong résumé. Winning one of uTunes' own rookie dj contests must mean something, right? They can't not take me!"

Wow.

You've only known Yoongi for a solid three minutes, but you can already tell that he's quite passionate about this.

"Hyung, all we're saying is that maybe you should consider doing something else? You could do so much more than run after that store." Jimin says and pats Yoongi's hand a couple of times.

"All of you perfectly know getting a job there could quite possibly set my music career!"

"Is that really it? Or is it because of a certain Daphne??" Seokjin teases him.

The rest just mutters an "ooh" or an "aah".

You seem to have been turned into an accessory.

You so cannot relate to anything they've talked about since Yoongi came.

It's like you're at one of your dad's social gatherings and all you can do is smile and nod.

"ANYWAY," Yoongi interjects in their teasing. "So Tae, you're also looking for a job?"

Jeez FINALLY.

Something you can talk about that involves you.

It felt like you were just back home watching some random show that doesn't require your input.

Taehyung gives an overly dramatic heavy sigh.

"Unfortunately, yes. Y/n and I both need one badly. But all the stores had been rejecting us left and right. Like, the audacity!" Taehyung rants all over again.

Jimin, listens to him intently as if he hasn't heard all of this before.

Seokjin seems to have been entertaining the surrounding ladies for a while now.

[by giving some ( ˘ ³˘)♥︎ and some (•̀ᴗ-)☞ ]

Across the table, Namjoon complains to Hoseok about getting in trouble with his boss.

Jungkook, well, he's just staring at the beautiful pizza this kid next to you guys is eating. (Someone's hungry too, okay?)

While Yoongi just openly stares at you.

Welp.

What the frick are you supposed to do now?

Is Taehyung or anyone going to properly introduce you two?

No???

Okay fine.

Seems like you're gonna have to get used to doing things on your own.

You smile at him and timidly hold your hand out.

"Uh hi. I'm Y/n. I don't know if Tae's ever mentioned me to you before but--"

"Oh, trust me. He's mentioned you plenty. He actually never shuts up about you."

ʰᵉʰ

You don't really know if he was stating that as a fact or if he's trying to be mean…

"Oh ha ha… That must be really annoying then."

"Yeah, it is actually."

Your small polite chuckle died down your throat.

Wow and you thought Taehyung can be rude.

hE'S STILL JUST STARING.

"Uh…" You finally lowered your hand that he obviously isn't going to shake.

That is definitely going in your top 10 most embarrassing moments ever.

God, can someone get you away from this guy?

What's his problem?

"SO, can any one of you help us? Like, any tips or something?" Tae concludes his really long and repetitive rant.

Everyone's eyes FINALLY focuses on Tae again.

Seokjin snorts loudly.

Eww.

He opens his mouth to say something but Tae immediately holds his hand up to stop him.

"Anyone except you hyung. I don't think you're classified."

Everyone laughs to that and again,

ARE YOU MISSING OUT ON SOMETHING HERE?

Seokjin raises one finger like he's trying to make a point. "If anyone is classified to give tips on how to get accepted, it's me!"

"Yeah, just not on how to last on one." Namjoon loudly whispers to Tae.

"HEY I HEARD THAT!"

Ohhh….

So,

Does he constantly get fired from a job?

Well, that's just sad.

Hopefully you don't end up like him.

😳

"Actually," Hoseok starts, "how do you end up landing on so many jobs? Like, don't they know your reputation?"

And that's your cue to finally insert yourself in the conversation.

"Uh, what reputation?"

"Sweetheart, you don't really want to know! It's not that big of a deal." Seokjin quickly steers you away from the topic but the other guys didn't allow it to happen.

"Oh, you know. Just that, he's known to be the "job eater" here. Cause he pretty much eats a job and moves on from it in a flash." Namjoon graciously fills you in.

So you were right.

That's kind of impressive though…

But a huge waste.

"Still! It makes me very much qualified to give the unemployed a tip!"

"Save it hyung, you might need it for your next job once you get fired from Uncle Aang's."

Seokjin gives everyone a sheepish smile.

What's that about?

It almost looks as if he…

"YOU GOT FIRED ALREADY?!"

"Oh you bet I did."

To be fair, how could he not stop himself from eating the free samples? Those pretzels are literal drugs.

"You just got that job four days ago. I can't believe it!"

"I can believe it." Yoongi says out loud.

Can't he say anything nice?

"Whatever! Point is, these stores still hire me no matter what."

"You know what, that is a good point." Taehyung mutters, slowly turning convinced by Seokjin.

Namjoon groans. "Are you for real Tae? If you want some job advice, maybe ask one from us who has only had one permanent job all throughout."

"Guys, let's give Seokjin hyung a chance!" Jimin, ever the sweet positive boy, suggests.

"Of course you would say that."

Not wanting to fade into nothingness, you insert yourself again in the conversation.

"I want to hear what he has to say."

Once those words left your mouth, you instantly regret it.

A.) Seokjin gives you another wink and gives you a flying kiss that has you weak in the knees again- I MEAN WHAT. I SAID NOTHING.

And B.) Yoongi is clearly not a fan of you sharing your opinions with the group.

Despite the obvious protests of Namjoon, Seokjin still gives his number one "professional" advice

And that is to have a perfectly 𝒉𝒊𝒈𝒉 𝒒𝒖𝒂𝒍𝒊𝒕𝒚 résumé.

"A high quality résumé? YOU? What the fuck are you talking about?" Yoongi says, slightly amused and slightly tired of the older guy's shenanigans.

"Don't believe me? Fine. But I'm telling you, it's all here on paper!" Seokjin takes out a folder from his backpack and waves it around.

Namjoon immediately snatches it from him

"5 pages long?? Are you for real?”

Seokjin hums and watches smugly with a cocky grin as the guys read through his résumé.

“Hang on, since when did you do balloon modelling?”

"I don't."

Hoseok gasps. "But bro, isn't that lying?"

"Yeah, duh! How else are these people gonna hire you? You have to sell them what they're looking for."

"What if they ask you to use these skills that you clearly don't have?"

"Then you're just gonna have to fake it till you make it, baby!"

Huh

No wonder he doesn't last long on a single job.

"And how's that working out for you?" Yoongi presses on.

"Well at least I get hired, Mr. 7th Time's the Charm!"

Yoongi is like ᶠⁱᵗᵉ ᵐᵉ ⁱ ʷᵒⁿ'ᵗ ʰᵉˢⁱᵗᵃᵗᵉ ᵇⁱᵗᶜʰ (ง'̀-'́)ง

"That's not really the point of having a job, but I guess, whatever floats your boat, dude!" Hoseok finally sides with Seokjin.

"So everyone is looking for a job then?" Taehyung realizes, "this is so cool if all of us get hired! We'll all face the real world together."

"All of us except Jungkook though."

Who?

Oh that extra cute shy boy.

You forgot he's here.

Boy really hasn't said a word at all.

"Did ya hear that? All of us are getting jobs!"

"You should get one too!"

"That would be so cool!"

"So what do you say? What are your plans Kook?"

"Guys, don't pressure the kid!"

The guys talk simultaneously, ultimately kind of pressuring Jungkook to say something before he even thinks about it.

The table falls silent and everyone eyes Jungkook.

The guys are like ( ･ิ ͜ʖ ･ิ) and ( ͠° ͟ʖ ͡°)

Jungkook is like (ʘ ͟ʖ ʘ)

Then the guys are like (≖ ͜ʖ≖)

So jungkook is like (¬‿¬ )

In the end, they are all like

(☞°ヮ°)☞ ☜(°ヮ°☜)

And through it all, you are just ʕ•ᴥ•ʔ

What the heck is going on?

"Yeah, why not?" Jungkook simply concludes and the guys make various celebrating noises.

Gasp!

He can talk???

"Okay, everyone calm down! Let's wait until after everyone gets hired before we celebrate." Namjoon scolds everyone.

"Well that might take a while considering Y/n and I can't find one!"

Namjoon places a comforting hand on Tae's shoulder. "Oh relax, there's like ten thousand stores in the mall!"

"Actually, there are only 613 stores in the entire mall." Hoseok points out a matter of factly.

You all look at him dumbfoundedly.

Aaaand he just stares back at all of you.

Is this some kind of trivia that you need to know if you work around here?

Are you gonna have to memorise a lot of facts about the mall???

Oh, you don't like that.

Seokjin was the first one to react.

"Dude?? What the hell?!"

"I got bored once while I was on a break and counted."

Huh.

Makes sense.

Yeah, sure.

Why not?

Why wouldn't you just go and count the total number of stores out of boredom???

…

THAT WAS A SARCASTIC REMARK IF YOU DIDN'T GET IT.

"Even if there are 600 stores here, there are only like, 20 good stores that exist!" Tae remarks

You want to say you can't agree more but you stop yourself because you don't think you can handle another cold stare from Yoongi.

"Are you perhaps pertaining to the high end stores?" Namjoon muses.

"Yeah. What else?"

Jimin's eyes widen in shock. "Hold on. So you two have only been looking at that small section of the entire mall?"

"Yeah. Why?"

Yoongi chuckles condescendingly.

"Bros, you know that saying… 'Beggars can't be choosers'?" Hoseok tries to enlighten you two.

You and Tae look at each other.

What an epiphany.

A very disgusting yet important epiphany.

"Are you… Are you guys saying that… We need to find a job… Outside of that section??"

They all nod.

Ughhhhhhh

You and Tae make an annoyed sound.

"Welcome to the real world, peasants!" Seokjin warmly tells you.

Could things get any worse?

"Hey, at least we'll all be here together!"

Ha ha

Great . Awesome. Wow.

"Well, on that note, I really need to get back to work. Lady and gentlemen, may the odds be ever in your favour. Good luck!"

Namjoon stands and walks away.

One by one, the other working guys went back to work as well, leaving you unemployed slackers.

Hey they didn't even give any actual help!

Wasn't that the reason why Tae called for a… What did they call it?

Code something something.

Oh whatever!

Anyways,

So to summarize things

You might end up working at an awful low end store.

And you're unwillingly stuck with the wrong set of people.

One of them is a total flirt and an actual pain to society.

Another one might possibly hate you for unknown reasons.

This tall dude seems to be really uptight.

Then there's this guy that seems really weird.

The other one, well… He's cute and doesn't really have any negative points yet BUT you're sure something's wrong with him.

And the last one literally said one thing during the entire time!

Oh, you've got a really really long way before you can pay your dad.

Good luck to you, indeed.

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jasontoddiefor · 3 years

Text

Title: threads spun

Summary: In another life, Obi-Wan Kenobi would have fought plenty of other Jedi Masters for the right to train little Luke Skywalker. In this one, Luke is 19 and just lost his family when Obi-Wan teaches him how to do a proper Padawan braid.

AN: I’M BACK FROM NANO WITH NEW FANFICS.

The boy just lost his whole world, and he clings to Obi-Wan's robes with shaky hands. His eyes are bright blue, his hair a fair gold color, and for just one short moment, Obi-Wan isn't sure whether the child in front of him is nine or nineteen, whether his name is Anakin or Luke.

It is the reason he gave Luke to his family in the end, even when the Force and all his selfish desires were screaming at him not to. The newborn, the son of his Padawan, the child that was Luke Skywalker, had deserved better than a broken man who didn't even know who he was without a thousand lights illuminating him. A man who'd risk forgetting that he was not holding the child he had raised, the child he had left to burn.

Obi-Wan closes his eyes and the moment passes.

He doesn't ask the boy if he's alright because it is obvious that Luke is not and it would be cruel to demand an honest answer. Luke can't be standing straight after he experienced such tremendous loss for the first time, nobody would, and Obi-Wan is saddened that he can't give Luke the time to grieve.

Despite all this pain, Obi-Wan still dares to hope for light and life.

He is relieved to see that Luke doesn't take all the hurt and anger to hide it within himself. Obi-Wan has never taught Luke a single lesson about Jedi philosophy, the way they grieve and handle all the emotions that are too large for this world, those that are capable of tearing the galaxy apart. And yet Luke controls his feelings exactly as a temple-raised youngling would, not pushing them aside or letting them overtake him. He takes timed breaths, centers himself on the world surrounding him and not on his anxieties. Pride fills Obi-Wan's heart as he watches peace and balance return to Luke's mind.

In another life, Obi-Wan would have fought plenty of other Jedi Masters for the right to train him.

He can almost hear his family laugh at him, playful jabs about him being so eager to train yet another Skywalker and see what colors they could draw nebulas in. It isn't Obi-Wan's fault; he has always loved a challenge, and Luke, racing in Beggar's Canyon at an age no boy should step into that death trap, would have certainly been a joy to teach and guide.

He could have taught him so much, so much he still needs to teach him, but the clock is ticking and time has always been a cruel mistress. Not purposefully, she wouldn't dare, but she is absolute and eternal, and like death, she takes.

Obi-Wan silently wonders how much time he has left. He knows exactly where they are heading and despite the legends he has wrapped around himself in his exile, he's neither crazy nor a fool. They are attempting to pull off a plan that they wouldn't even have dared to suggest during the Clone Wars, not with so many untrained people. He's been called reckless plenty of times, his ability to talk himself out of seeming like an adrenaline junkie being his only saving grace. Still, Obi-Wan is acutely aware of the danger they are in.

But they have no other choice. They may have the Death Star plans in their hands – and wasn't it utterly predictable that it would be Artoo to carry the plans for a weapon of mass destruction? – but Leia can't stay in the Empire's hands.

Luke and she were so strong in the Force at their birth already. While Obi-Wan is convinced that Bail must have taught Leia at least some shielding techniques, half-trained children can't withstand a Sith Lord for long. Should Vader or worse, Palpatine, learn what Leia could become capable of, they would have so much more to worry about in the future.

The Rebellion might as well be lost.

"You have grown into a fine young man, Luke," Obi-Wan tells Anakin's son instead.

"I have?" Luke echoes, curiosity coloring his voice, highlighting a cadence similar to Padmé's despite his heavy Outer Rim accent.

"I brought you to Tatooine," Obi-Wan tells him. The journey hadn't been an easy one. They had to change ships multiple times and every time somebody had mistaken Obi-Wan for Luke's father, he had wanted to stop and cry like the infant in his arms. "You were a very sweet baby."

"Oh." Luke falls silent again, but his hands have stopped shaking. In his dirty white robes, he reminds Obi-Wan just a bit of a messy Padawan. He wears Anakin's lightsaber well, even if he doesn't know how to execute even the simplest of lightsaber forms. Frankly speaking, it is a bit terrifying to see how quickly he picked up the weapon and had gotten comfortable with it. The Force curled around Luke's every movement, guiding him like a beloved teacher.

Luke will need a teacher if he is to face the darkness that would catch up to them soon.

Obi-Wan feels much older than he actually is. The fault lies partially with the harsh marks that Tatooine has left on his body, but also with the life he has led. He isn't sure if he can teach another student, no matter how much he wants to, but he has to try at least for Luke's sake. That is, if the boy truly intends to follow the path of the Jedi.

"Luke," Obi-Wan says seriously, thinking of the one who gives life, the name granted to such a young child, "Do you truly want to become a Jedi?"

"Yes." There is no hesitation in Luke's reply. "I want to follow my father's footsteps."

No, Obi-Wan wants to weep. You don't. You can't ask me to cut you down as well; I couldn't bear it.

"It is admirable to want to follow the path of someone you respect," Obi-wan starts carefully instead. He can't tell Luke what became of Anakin Skywalker. The child deserves better. "But I am asking about your own inclinations. The path of a Jedi is not an easy one, and you have to follow it for your own sake if you want to succeed."

Now Luke does hesitate. He looks down at his hands, curls them into fists and relaxes them again.

"Yes," Luke finally replied. "Yes, I want to be a Jedi."

"Then I'll hope you'll give me the honor of teaching you. I'd like to take you as my Padawan."

Obi-Wan had said these words over three decades ago to another lost blond boy, the language a little different, their surroundings certainly more peaceful than the ship of a smuggler. He tries to banish the image from his mind.

"Padawan," Luke repeats slowly. "What does it mean?"

You should know, Obi-Wan thinks. You should know what it means and be overjoyed and celebrate this day.

He can't hold it against this boy, not even against himself or, dare he think it, Anakin because choices had been made, but away from it all, Obi-Wan can only blame the Sith who ruined them, continues to hurt them.

"It means that I want you as my student, teach you all I know so that you may surpass me someday."

Bring us back to the light, rebuilt all that we lost. Obi-Wan is asking him for so much when just days ago it would have been enough for him to someday see Luke marry that boy he's been crushing on for years and live the rest of his days happily, far away from the war.

And now he dreams of home again, the rooms full of plants and droid parts, poetry collections, board games, and warmth so kind and all-compassing that no nightmares can haunt you.

"You'd really teach me?" Luke asks as if he'd be honored and the right to be taught not already something he possessed since his birth.

"Of course."

"I'd be honored to accept," Luke replies with a shy smile.

Obi-Wan returns his smile and reassuringly squeezes his shoulder once. Luke leans into the touch and so Obi-Wan lets his arm linger around the boy's shoulders as he continues to explain traditions long lost. "Traditionally, we would now braid your hair and put in the first bead."

"Braid my hair?"

Obi-wan nods and thinks of all the times his Master ran his fingers through Obi-Wan's hair, tugging at his braid and saying one thing or another he hadn't paid any attention to because he'd been too awestruck by the fact that he had a Master at all. "Yes, all Padawans of the Jedi Order have a braid. It shows your dedication to your studies and how serious you are about them. It means that you know that this is not an easy task or an easy path to take, but that you are willing to walk it anyway."

Luke thoughtfully looks at Obi-Wan, then he reaches up with his hand, putting a strand of hair behind his ear.

"My hair is not long enough to braid it properly," Luke mutters, dismayed.

He's pouting more than he is actually hurt by the thought. Nevertheless, if he lingers on it, he might ask more questions about what other chances life has denied him and because of it, Obi-Wan wants to distract him quickly.

The distraction comes at the price of remembrance, a fourteen-year-old Padawan clinging to what remained of his braid, burying his head in his Master's chest, and crying after enduring days of torment. Obi-Wan had fixed Anakin's hair then as well so he wouldn't have to deal with too many looks once they were back at the Temple. His braid had been short, but it had been there. For a moment, Obi-Wan tries to recall who had assigned that mission to them, whether Sidious had already sown his seeds of discord then.

He lets the moment go. "Don't worry, I can help you."

He had done plenty of braids during his as a Padawan and later as a Master. When the war had been going on, he had helped frenzied Padawans countless times with their braids.

There was an almost meditative process to the act of braiding and letting others braid your hair. It had soothed innumerous over the centuries and now it will once more calm another. Luke sits still when Obi-Wan begins to part the stray strands of hair on the left side of his head into three. Luke's hair really isn't all that long, but it is definitely more than enough to work with. Slowly and withs steady fingers, Obi-Wan braids another bond with his second Padawan. Luke is a kind child and this war will hurt him incredibly. Obi-Wan can only hope that what he will pass onto him will be enough to have him keep his path, to wander in the light even when the darkness reaches for him with the intent to consume.

Once Obi-Wan is finished with the braid, he reaches for his belt, takes an old leather cord from there, and wraps it around the tip of Luke's hair.

"And finished," Obi-Wan announces.

Luke, who had closed his eyes, opens them and immediately reaches for the hair, twirling it between his two fingers in a fashion reminiscent of Obi-Wan in his youth. He had only managed to get rid of that nervous habit after his won braid hat been cut. Whether Luke would act similar, Obi-Wan doesn't know, but the thought of seeing Luke ascend to the rank of Knight of the Order, no matter how small, splintered and broken it is right now, it makes his heart beat a bit quicker.

"How does it look?" Luke asks.

"As it is supposed to," Obi-Wan replies. "I believe Mr. Solo has a mirror in his fresher if you want to take a look."

Luke races off before Obi-Wan can say anymore. He returns a few minutes later, already with more color in his face than he had in the hours before.

"Thank you. Master." Luke tags on the honorific only belatedly, unsure whether it fits and it is all the convincing Obi-Wan could ever need.

"You are welcome, Padawan."

Obi-Wan Kenobi has a student once more and he will not fail him.

#star wars #obi wan kenobi #Luke Skywalker #jedi #original trilogy #fanfic

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chocolate1721 · 4 years

Text

My brain won’t let me rest until I share these prompts.

Ok, so the class is in Gotham and it’s the last night before they leave. They went out to eat and on their way back to the hotel they run into and injured Harley and/or Ivy. The class freezes while Mari and Chloe rush over to help them. Mari starts tearing her clothes while Chloe is making sure they are coherent. They class comes back to their senses and start hurling insults at the rogues and start talking about calling the police. They class gets more hostile towards Mari, Chloe, Harley, and Ivy as they move towards them. Suddenly the Joker appears behind the small group. The class runs away and leaves Mari and Chloe behind. Marinette jumps up and stands in between the Joker and the injured rogues.

Joker is impressed. Very few men would even think of getting in his way, but this child doesn’t hesitate to do this. While Joker is assessing Mari, Marinette subtly grabs a (conveniently placed) crowbar that she found on the ground.

Chloe is trying to get Harley and Ivy to stand up, so they can all get out of this situation. She is successful but both Harley and Ivy are leaning heavily on her.

Marinette takes a swing at Joker, when he gets too close. Joker is getting more and more intrigued by her. He taunts and teases her. Getting close then backing away when she swings at him. Looking to see how far he can push her.

Harley is terrified. She sees the look in the Joker’s eyes. She knows that look. He is interested in this girl who is protecting her and Ivy. But she can’t do anything to help.

The Joker slowly maneuvers the group into a corner. Marinette still swinging at him, but he keeps walking closer to them. She realizes that the only way out is past Joker, so she stops backing up. The next time she takes a swing it connects with his forearm. He blocked it. Joker yanks the crowbar out of her hands and tosses it away from them. He walks closer to the group, but Mari refuses to move.

[[More]]

Before he gets to them several dark figures swoop down and fight him. After he is defeated, Marinette grabs the closest vigilante (perferably not the love interest) and demands that they help Harley and Ivy.

Mari and Chloe stay at the hospital while both Rogues get worked on. They answer the questions from the police and batfam. They refused to leave the hospital until they knew that both of the women would be ok. So they stayed the night. Waiting for the Rogues to wake up.

The next morning Harley and Ivy were shocked to see the girls who helped them. They watched as the girls slept in those uncomfortable hospital chairs. The police arrived not long after Marinette and Chloe woke up. The police officer asked them who their guardian was. Marinette and Chloe were then taken to the police Stanton as they waited for Bustier to pick them up.

It was around lunch when they were informed that the class could not be found. Gordon was walking by when he saw these two girls go very, very pale. They turned to each other and started whispering in French. He paused and watched as the officer asked the girls what was wrong.

“We are supposed to go back to Paris today. Lately our teacher hasn’t been taking roll call, and she takes what our classmates say as fact. We’re hoping she didn’t leave for Paris without us.”

“Who are we kidding Maribug. She wouldn’t do a headcount for a trip to the museum, why do we expect her to do it before leaving a country.”

Gordon was shocked, then scared. He rushed to his office and called the airport. After several people told him that the information he was wanting was classified, and being transferred around a bit. He slammed his hands on his desk and informed the person on the other end of the line that “THERE ARE TWO MINORS WHO BELIEVE THAT THEIR TEACHER LEFT THEM BEHIND WHEN SHE TOOK THE REST OF THE CLASS BACK TO PARIS! NOW TELL ME IF THEY BOARDED THE F*CKING PLANE OR NOT!”

He got what he needed, and he was furious. Not only did the teacher not do a headcount but they have video evidence of one student ripping up two tickets, that he assumed where for the two girls in the lobby of the precinct.

He called Bruce Wayne, since he is technically responsible for them while they are in Gotham. He explained the situation, and Bruce was more livid than Gordon is. He told Gordon that he would pick the girls up and take care of getting them back to Paris. Gordon sighed and went to tell the girls. Who took the news rather well. He talked with the girls, asking them if this was normal for their teacher. They had no reservations, well the blonde had no reservations, about telling him every toxic, manipulative, and downright mentally abusive thing their teacher has done.

By the time Beuce Wayne, and his hoard of kids, arrived; Gordon was going to send a tip to the French Board of Education about this. He pulled Bruce aside and told him about the teacher. Bruce agreed that this teacher is aweful and he is going to make sure that she is never allowed to teach anyone again.

Bruce took the girls back to the manor and had Tim arrange a flight to Paris on their personal plane. He also had the girls call their parents and let them know what happened. Sabine was out for blood. He talked to the parents and let them know he will personally bring their children back to Paris.

After talking to their parents all that was left was to have the plane get ready. They agreed to wait until tomorrow to leave for Paris. This gave Jason enough time to teach both girls how to shoot many different types of guns. Damian was teaching Marinette swordsmanship, he was rather impressed on how dedicated she was. He is a difficult teacher, harsh and strict, but she was enthusiastic and learned from her mistakes. Chloe and Dick has a blast in trying to “one up” the other with flexibility and gymnastics. And finally, Tim has finally found another insomniac coffee addict. Mari and Tim trades coffee recipies.

The entire Batfam went with Marinette and Chloe back to Paris. They didn’t want to miss watching their father rip this teacher apart. Then we’re then introduced to the Dupain-Cheng bakery. . . . . . They literally had to pry Jason’s fingers from the door to get him to leave.

Bruce launches a formal investigation into the school, and Bustier. The Board of Education does this as well. It didn’t turn out well. Bruce suggests that Chloe and Mari wait a few days before going to school. See if the school contacts their parents about why they are missing. When 4 days passed and the school didn’t contact them, the girls showed up after lunch one day. Along with their parents, investigators for Bruce and the Board of Education, and the entire Wayne family.

Bustier is confused and asks the girls why they have been ditching class. This sets sooo many people off. Sabine, Jason, and Chloe have to be physically held back from attacking Bustier.

Marinette, passes Chloe to be father, and steps up to Bustier.

“We didn’t skip school. You left us in an alley with an injured Harley and Ivy, when the Joker appeared. Then when we were rescued by the Batclan and went to the hospital to make sure they were alright, you didn’t try and find us. You left us in Gotham.”

“Marinette, you need to be more responsible. The Joker is very dangerous and trying to protect two criminals was foolish. Also Lila has to get back to Paris to help her mother with some upcoming business.”

This set off so many people that they had to be removed from the class room. Bruce stepped up to Bustier.

“Did you do a head count? If not then why are you putting one student who said they have prior engagements, who should have already gotten it done if they were going to conflict with scheduling or not have come on the trip at all, over two students who were in danger?”

Bruce is beyond livid. He is about to blow a fuse. Until a purple butterfly appears, then Marinette yeets him out of the way. Everyone watches as the akuma goes into one of her hair ties. The class is panicking and are tripping over themselves to get out of the room. Chloe and Marinette’s parents are telling her to fight hawkmoth. Marinette just calmly stares “hawkmoth, if you akumatize me, I will come after you and no one else.” Not long after that state was made. A pure white butterfly emerges from the ribbon.

The class are amazed by this. Adrien smiles and said “see Marinette is our everyday Ladybug, she even rejects Hawkmoth.” Marinette turns towards Adrien and b*tch slaps him. “I may have rejected him, but I shouldn’t have to be in a situation where I have to do it.”

Alya and Lila start yelling about how Mari and Chloe did this for attention, then Lila’s lies are revealed and she and alya get sued.

Lots of salt please. Adrien, Alya, Lila, and Bustier salt. I love my salt

#maribat prompt #mlb x dc au #maribat #mlb au #dc au #alya salt #lila salt #bustier salt #adrien salt

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mettlekettle · 4 years

Text

Cock block-Harry Styles x fem!Reader

Hi everyone, i guess this is my entry for @majorharry‘s 20k fic celebration, and its my first piece of writing that I’m posting on tumblr so feedback is really helpful! its not edited because I’m a lazy bitch but,,, it be like that don’t it? I used two prompts, the first one i used accidentally and didn’t realize i did it until i finished lmao. Prompts: 26. “Pay attention to me.” and 35. “If you ever tell anyone about this, I’ll kill you.”

Word Count: 1.8k

Description: y/n and Harry both want to move to the next level in their relationship, but something stops them. (just heartwarming fluff!)

HARRY 💗

hi love, do you want to come over tonight? H.

Y/N

of course, does 7 work?

Harry and y/n’s relationship is relatively new; the two of them met through Mitch and are now inseparable. It’s a calm time in Harry’s life meaning no tours or press, he’s writing his next album and relaxing. He spends practically everyday with y/n, lounging around his LA home, kissing, watching movies and kissing some more. She loves the way he holds her face when he kisses her, eventually moving one of his hands to y/n’s hair. He was always down for a good make out session, but they never really got any closer than that, always facing each other, never pulling her into his lap in fear of making her uncomfortable. Today was a little bit different, y/n is feeling extra needy, craving his lips and his touch. She just wants to melt into his arms.

At seven, like they agreed, y/n arrived at his house. He opens the door for her, he’s wearing a black shirt and grey sweatpants. He smiled at her sweetly before pulling her into a tight hug. y/n instantly relaxed in his grip.

“Hi bunny,” he murmured into her hair, holding her tighter, as if she was gonna disappear. y/n could tell he was feeling the same as her today, clingy and needing attention right away. She ignored his greeting, tucking her face into his neck and mumbling a small

“You always smell so nice,” into his shirt. He chuckled before releasing her. She pouted as he looked down at her, wanting a little more time in his arms.

“Hungry?” he asked, already knowing the answer, “got you a salad, with chickpeas like you like it.” Her pout quickly turned into a smile when he told her that; he always remembers the smallest things about her.

“And boba?” she looked at him from under her lashes, pretty doe eyes that made him weak. Of course he got her a boba, he would get her anything if she asked.

“Really wish you would stop drinking those, they’re full of sugar, love,” he said truthfully. He’s annoyingly healthy in her opinion. Why can’t she have boba if she’s eating a salad for dinner? She voiced her concern out loud. Harry rolled his eyes at his girlfriend.

“Jus’ cause you eat healthy, doesn’t give you a pass to eat copious amounts of sugar y/n” he retorts

“Whatever, you’re so boring, you can enjoy your green juice, and I’ll enjoy my strawberry bubble tea. Can we eat now please?” he sighs and leads his sugar addicted angel to the kitchen where their food, and yes, her bubble tea is.

They talk about their days while eating. Harry mentions a song he’s writing with Mitch and y/n talks about a scandal in her school in which two students were stealing test answers from a teacher and selling them to other kids. She also mentions the 3 vapes she confiscated in class, complaining about how students show her no respect because she’s only a student teacher and she looks quite young.

“Its not like I want to be teaching teenagers anyways, but its still really upsetting, I wish I could have found a job at an elementary school like I wanted.” She sighs. Her degree is in special education. That’s what she’s always wanted to do, but jobs in her field were scarce as schools were getting less and less money every year.

“You’ll find something love, any school would be lucky to have you as a teacher.” he then looked down at his lap and spoke shyly, “you know, if you can’t find a job next September, you could come on tour with me. Only if you want to! Of course I’d take care of you but m’not asking you to give up your dreams or anything, I support you completely in whatever you choose. Be nice to have you w’me all the time though, we could travel the world together. Again, no pressure,” His normally slow drawl became too hard to keep up with as he rushed to fix whatever mistake he thought he’d made. She let out a little giggle before grabbing his hand.

“I’d love to tour with you, I’m glad you’re as serious about our relationship as I am. You’d seriously support me financially if I couldn’t find a job though?” she questioned.

“I’d do anything for you, angel,” he responded before continuing, “ve’got too much money to even know what to do with, I’d spoil you rotten if you’d let me.” She gave him a glare before exclaiming,

“Don’t you dare!” He chuckled and reached out to pinch one of her cheeks.

“Can’t help it that you deserve the world bunny.” Her face became warm as she batted his ringed hands away. She took a long sip of her drink, slurping obnoxiously with her straw to draw attention away from her flustered state. Harry looked at her in amusement, he never got bored with how he could make her squirm, she was just so cute.

“Wanna watch a movie?” y/n questioned to take Harry’s scrutiny off of her heated face, “saw Legally Blonde on Netflix this morning.” He nodded before taking his hand and leading her to the living room. He quickly ran up the stairs to grab her a blanket and a fuzzy pair of socks because she always criticized the chill in his house. When he got back he knelt on the floor to put the socks on her feet, pressing a kiss to her knee before taking a seat next to her and draping the fuzzy blue blanket over them both.

y/n loved how her doted on her. She had never had a serious boyfriend before, most of the boys she had dated didn’t even know how to take care of themselves, let alone her. She smiled at Harry, who was focused on the movie. Harry wasn’t just a boy, he was a man, a really really handsome man who for some reason was into her and wanted to give her anything she wanted, even if that was a large amount of sugar in the form of tapioca bubbles and strawberry slushy goodness.

As Elle Woods faced her first class at Harvard Law, y/n got distracted by Harry. How did she get so lucky? She picked up his large hand that was placed on her lap and started fidgeting with his rings; pulling one off before pushing it back on his finger, then she moved to the next one, pulling it up a bit before twisting it around his pointer finger. Next she pulled the ‘s’ shaped ring off his pinky, inspecting it closely, before once again picking up his hand and pushing the ring back on his finger. When she got bored of her little game, she looked up to see him very invested in the movie and smiled. She leaned up to press a kiss to his cheek

“Thanks love,” he said before turning his attention back to the screen. She frowned at the lack of attention she received. She kissed his cheek again before grabbing his face in her hands and turning him towards her.

“Hi” he murmured.

“Pay attention to me,” y/n demanded. Harry laughed lowly before kissing her head. He grabbed her hands in both of his before leaning down to whisper to her,

“You wan’ my attention?” she nodded quickly, “what do you want me to do?” he questioned.

“Kiss?” she pleaded. He smirked.

“What's the magic word?’ He pressed, placing his hand on her cheek.

“Please?” she said. He smirked at her because he could tell how desperate he was. He pressed his lips to hers in a few short pecks before elongating their kisses. y/n put her hands on his shoulders, fisting his shirt in her hands.

“Y’taste so sweet,” he hummed against her mouth.

“Not too much sugar now, hmm?” she countered

“Sh, jus’ open up f’me,” he demanded before licking the seam of her lips. She instantly opened her mouth, mewling softly when his hand on her cheek went to the back of her head, holding her to him. They lazily kissed for a while, much longer than their usual make out sessions. y/n felt the need to be closer to him, gripping his shoulders tight before swinging her legs over him, now straddling his lap she put her hands in his hair. Harry’s moved to her waist, giving her a little squeeze when she whimpered against him.

This is as far as they’d ever gone, making nervous butterflies flutter in y/n’s stomach, but she didn’t want to stop, she wanted him. She ground herself against the bulge in his pants making Harry let out a groan. Her hands travelled south to his stomach while Harry’s moved up to her ribs, right below her breasts.

He slowly moved so she was under him on the couch kissing down her neck, sucking a hickey into her skin laving his tongue against the mark he made. She pulled him back up to kiss her again. His hands gripped her thighs and pulled them around his hips before grinding roughly against her core. Suddenly. y/n felt a tickle in her nose, quickly she pushed Harry of of her mumbling,

“Get off, get off, get off,” Harry, thinking he had hurt her or made her uncomfortable was quick to rush out words of comfort and guilt,

“M’sorry love, did I hurt you? Didn't mean to pressure you at all.” All y/n did was put a hand out to silence him and make him wait a moment. Abruptly she let out a small sneeze, and then another, and then another. When she was finished she ran the sleeve of her sweater under her nose.

“Didn't want to sneeze on you, sorry,” she spoke up meekly.

“What! I thought I did something wrong?” he yelled. Her cheeks once again warmed as she hurried to reassure him,

“Nonono, I really enjoyed that, we can continue now if you want, I can um, help you out,” she said trying to sound seductive, she moved her hands up his thighs. He caught her hands before she could reach the strings of her sweatpants. Now it was Harry’s turn to flush.

“I uhh, actually, um went soft when I thought I hurt you,” he uttered. She giggled softly, leaning up to kiss him.

“So I guess you’re not a sadist then, huh?” she got out through her laughs.

“Never said that bunny,” he drawled in his deep accent, “ jus’ like to have consent before I inflict pain, wanna know y’like it.” His naughty words quickly shut her up. It seemed he was making her flustered a lot today. He quickly caught her chin in his hand, before jokingly saying,

“Can’t believe you sneezed when we were making out,” he snorted. She pushed his hands away before glaring at him and croaking out,

“If you ever tell anyone about this, I’ll kill you.”

Thank you for reading, hopefully that wasn’t too unbearable! xx.

#majorharry20k #Harry Styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x reader #yes my kink is imagining harry styles calling me bunny #dont judge lmao

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notchesandbullets · 3 years

Text

Saving Her (Ojiro Mashirao x Wolf!Reader)

Part 8: A kind gesture for Aizawa gone wrong, compensated for with a ton of fluff and shenanigans by the big three. Aizawa also being 100% done with Yamada.

Word Count: 4k

You were skipping down the hallways of UA, on your way to the teachers' lounge. In your hands, you held a bento box.

Sato had been teaching you how to cook. His cooking was just as good as his baking and he had taught you a bunch of skills already in the kitchen. How to peel a potato, cook rice, correctly cut vegetables and meat, the list went on. Most times, you liked to watch him, observing what he did and then tried it for yourself.

He was a very good instructor, even though he brushed off your compliments more than once. He was too humble for his own good.

You knocked on the door a couple of times, a bit louder than last time. Over time, your confidence had been building up thanks to Aizawa's guidance and the constant support you had from your friends surrounding you.

Everyone should be at Lunchrush by now, there was no reason for anyone else to be in the classroom. You had gone there initially but the room was empty and that's when you remembered that Aizawa liked to sleep during that period.

In the teachers' lounge, hidden away from the world in that same yellow sleeping bag.

Your mouth twisted down in a faint frown as you recalled how he never seemed to eat much. Even when the others invited him for dinners at the dorm, seeing as how they rotated who cooked each night, he never seemed to eat a lot or stay for very long.

That was going to change.

You heard someone say it was okay to come in, so hesitantly, you pushed open the door, poking your head inside.

"Excuse me, is Aizawa-sensei here?" You asked politely.

Midnight immediately sprung up from her seat, dashing over to you and squealing at how adorable your ears were.

Her hands, however, were halted a hairbreadth away from your fluffy ears, entwined in familiar cloth binds.

"Nemuri, we talked about this." Aizawa glowered, hair floating as he activated his quirk even though it wasn't necessary.

"Awwww, Shoutaaaaa~" Midnight sang and you offered her a sympathetic glance.

You shifted uneasily. He really didn't have to go to such lengths, you weren't that used to people doing that yet. It still felt a bit weird.

"Ah, it's okay, Aizawa-sensei!!" You stammered out after finding your voice.

"Uh huh," He grunted in your general direction, dragging his colleague over to Yamada and detangled his capture weapon, releasing his quirk.

Immediately after he made sure she wasn't going to move, he lumbered over to you. It appeared to be lethargic but you knew better. He had that same concerned gleam in his eye whenever Midoriya would get reckless or one of his other students hurt themselves.

"What's wrong?" He demanded, inspecting you from head to toe for a single scratch.

You waved frantically, then yelped as you momentarily forgot you were holding the bento box and launched it into the air by accident. Scrambling to catch it, you were successful but you crashed into the lounge with a loud thud.

Aizawa's eyes were wide, not expecting you to suddenly flop in front of him. It happened in the blink of an eye but he recovered quickly and helped you up immediately, but not without scolding you first.

"What were you thinking? You could've gotten seriously hurt." His tone was scarily even and your ears fell as it washed over you. "We talked about this, Y/N."

He didn't understand what could be so important that you were willing to risk hurting yourself.

"... 'm sorry..." You mumbled, holding up the box as a sort of peace offering. "I... This is for you."

Aizawa took it but didn't take his eyes off of you, worried that if he stepped away for a second that you would injure yourself.

Mistaking his attentiveness for disappointment in you, you found yourself high-tailing it out the door before he could stop you, holding back tears.

Present Mic approached his best friend with a frown on his face as Aizawa sat down in his chair with a sigh.

Now that he was up, he should mark these papers before the next period. The sooner he got that done, the sooner he could sleep.

Yamada's head shaking in disapproval caught his attention and Aizawa rolled his eyes, not noticing how Kayama was sneaking over to his desk from the opposite side.

"Not cool." Was all his best friend said.

Aizawa lifted an eyebrow. "What?"

Yamada scoffed and Aizawa was taken aback.

"What the hell did I do?" He demanded, rubbing his eyes tiredly. "She knows not to bother me when I'm at work by now."

He didn't mean it exactly like that.

It was just that he had talked to you about it previously, the added risks of walking by yourself to the school when it wasn't an emergency. He thought he made it clear.

But he didn't mention that the real reason was because he knew how accident prone you were and was beyond worried every single time you left the dorms.

His best friend just shot him a look of disappointment and Aizawa could feel the irritation creeping up his spine.

"What do you rather me say?" He snapped.

"It's not what you said, it's how you said it." Kayama corrected, twisting around the box that you had brought to him.

In his haze of concern that you had hurt yourself with that nasty fall, he had discarded it rather carelessly, thinking you gave it to him to hold onto while you regained your balance. In his haste, the lid was jarred, revealing the hot, steaming food inside.

Aizawa's heart twisted painfully as Kayama pushed it over to him gently, and he lifted the top off, his heart sinking even more as he saw the carefully crafted katsu curry inside.

It was clearly homemade and clearly for him and he felt awful that he didn't even thank you before you left.

"Fuck." He sowre, grabbing his capture weapon and throwing it over his shoulders.

Ignoring his friends' knowing looks, he sprinted to the door, hoping and praying he could catch you before you went back to Heights Alliance. If you had already left, he would catch up to you. You couldn't have gotten too far away from the school.

He knew that the thought that you had disappointed him would weigh you down and cause you to drag your feet. He prayed that it would work in his favor.

But he was known to have the worst luck in the world.

Running the calculations of how much time was left in the period and combining it with the fastest route to intercept you all went out the window when he threw open the door, stopping himself just in time from crashing into you.

You jumped in surprise. "Aizawa-sensei?"

He thanked the universe.

He was breathing hard and you grew worried. Then, a thought hit you and you stepped to the side, thinking you were blocking his way. He looked like he was heading out somewhere.

He growled at you. "What the hell are you doing?"

Crap, that wasn't at all what he meant to say.

You just blinked, holding up a pair of bamboo chopsticks in your hand. "I... I realized you probably can't eat without these so I went to Lunchrush and got some. I'm really sorry I came today but I was worried that you didn't bring anything to eat today and since Sato-kun's and Todoroki-kun's been helping me, I thought I could—"

Cutting off the rest of your nervous rambling, he engulfed you in a warm hug.

"Aizawa-sensei?!" You burst out, now really worried something was wrong.

He never showed affection so openly like this. You didn't know what to do.

"I'm sorry."

Now, you were really freaking out.

"W-What?!"

His arms curled around you tighter and you just stood there, unsure what this was all about. Was it the food? Oh All Might, did he hate it?

You knew it. It would've been better just to buy something and have them deliver it to the school. But you really thought that it would taste okay—

"Kid."

He stopped you from spiraling too far.

Aizawa sighed heavily, detaching himself from you and regarded you with poorly concealed gratitude. "Thank you for the food. It was very thoughtful."

He nearly cringed as the words left his mouth since he wasn't used to being so blunt in this way, but the smile that stretched across your face as he said it made it worth it.

"R-Really?! You don't hate it?!" You blurted out without thinking and in that instant, his expression changed.

Aizawa's chest tightened painfully at how innocently earnest that came out. "Kid, what the actual—"

You clapped a hand over your mouth. "I'm sorry!!"

"When did I say that?" He demanded, quite sure he never said he hated anything you made.

But as you shifted uneasily in front of him, he couldn't quell his disbelief. You thought that it wasn't good enough for him, that you had disappointed him.

Ah.

All the puzzle pieces fit seamlessly and he cursed himself for not seeing it sooner as well as for his foolishness earlier. He never was very aware when he woke up.

"I'm about to eat it now, how about you come in?" He asked awkwardly, just now noticing how he was having a conversation with you while you were still in the doorway.

You nodded and stepped inside rather shyly, making sure not to trip this time. Unbeknownst to you, Aizawa was looking for the same thing.

Midnight was nowhere to be seen now but she was most likely with Cementoss nearby. Present Mic waved enthusiastically to you from the back and you returned it rather timidly, hiding behind Aizawa before you could stop yourself.

Aizawa chuckled but made no move to pull you out into the open. He had social anxiety, too, so he understood perfectly. Everybody knew how intimidating his best friend could be with that quirk of his. It was the perfect match for his personality.

You walked over to his crowded desk, papers spread all over the place along with a handful of pens haphazardly strewn around. The bento box you had made him sat neatly in the center and you beamed up at Aizawa, tugging on his sweater not-so-discreetly.

He hid a smile at your eagerness, sitting down across from you only after he grabbed a chair for you to sit down in. Vlad King wouldn't mind.

You had to sit on your hands to keep them from shaking as he broke the chopsticks and grabbed a piece of meat from the bento box. You held your breath as he popped it in his mouth, chewing carefully.

He looked thoughtful as he swallowed it and you couldn't contain your silence any longer.

"Is... Does it taste okay?" You questioned, crossing your fingers.

You really wished you had tried it before giving it to him, but at the thought that he would end up with less made you skip over that part, leaving all your previous attempts on the counter and you finished the final product.

Maybe you should've tasted it.

But everything else melted away as a small smile tipped up the corners of his mouth and you squealed.

Aizawa wiped it off of his face. "Calm down, kid."

"You liked it!!" You cheered, dancing around him obnoxiously. "You liked it, I can't believe it!!"

"I didn't say that." He tried to reason but the damage control wasn't enough.

You were too far gone. "You really liked it!!"

"Kid, stop making so much noise." He ordered, hoping that would be enough to get you to stop shouting and dancing circles around him.

"No way, old man!!"

"Old man—?!"

His incredulous protest was cut off as you threw your arms around him, hugging him tight.

"I'm so happy." You cried, unable to stop the flow of tears after all your hard work was rewarded. "I'm so glad you liked it."

Aizawa froze for a second, taken aback by the sudden display of affection. He knew you were rather clingy, in part due to your wolf quirk, but he never expected this. Hesitantly, he returned your hug, finding that he rather liked holding you.

It made him feel like you were his daughter.

Oh All Might, you were his daughter.

You sprang back, wiping your tears with the back of your hand and he already missed you.

For a few seconds, the two of you stared at each other, a newfound understanding forming. It was disrupted as your stomach growled loudly.

Aizawa's eyes narrowed. "Did you eat anything yet today?"

Your sheepish smile answered that question for him. In your haste to get his done on time, you had skipped your own lunch.

Ignoring Yamada's snicker in the back, Aizawa gestured to the meal you had prepared for him. "Have some."

You pouted. "But, I made it for you."

"And I want you to eat some." He found himself saying even though he could easily scarf the whole thing down.

As delicious as it was, something stopped him from nearly inhaling it all.

These wretched parental instincts. Still, he supposed he was willing to accept those instincts as long as it meant you didn't go hungry.

Seeing you still hesitant to accept his offer even though you were clearly starving, he motioned for you to come closer and once you did, he dropped a hand on your head.

"We'll share, okay?" He compromised softly and you gave him a meek nod, giving into his father-like authority that left no room for argument.

Aizawa stretched out the chopsticks without thinking but you took it without pause, delicately picking up a piece of food and munching on it. It didn't escape Yamada's notice and growing curious, he sidled over, eyes glinting with mischief.

"YOOOO, Y/N!!!!" He shouted, the glass of the windows rattling from his loud voice.

You jumped at his volume and Aizawa smacked his best friend over the head, scowling at him.

"Stop that." Aizawa said, checking to make sure you weren't too shaken up by his careless colleague.

But your eyes were transfixed on Yamada as he pointed to the chopsticks in your hand.

"He used those already, here, you can use these."

In a show of good faith, or perhaps as an indirect apology for messing with you, he extended another pair of chopsticks that hadn't been opened yet.

But to both of the men's surprise, you shrugged your shoulders, grabbing one more piece of meat and eating it. "It doesn't bother me."

Both of their jaws dropped but Aizawa recovered faster.

"It doesn't?" He asked curiously.

You shook your head. "Nope, thank you though, Present Mic."

"Oh please, little listener, Yamada-sensei is fine." He reassured you quickly and you shot him that bright smile that melted his heart.

You were just about to take another bite when he interrupted you.

"Do tell me though, Y/N, how come you aren't bothered by sharing germs with this guy?" Yamada asked, poking his best friend in the face.

Aizawa scowled at him, batting him away in annoyance and you giggled, knowing it was all for show.

You rarely got to see him so at ease, it felt like you were being privileged to see a side of him that his students didn't get to yet.

"I don't know, it doesn't matter if it's family right?" You responded before your attention was taken by a particularly enticing piece of meat.

Yamada looked extremely satisfied with that, but Aizawa, he was floored.

You considered him family already?

He swallowed hard, clearing his throat, cheeks pinking slightly and giving away his embarrassment. The other man spotted it immediately and grinned.

"Yeah, it doesn't matter if it's family." Aizawa affirmed softly, making you look up.

You beamed at him, handing back the chopsticks that you had wiped clean with a napkin. "Thank you for the food, sensei!!"

He snorted. "That's my line, kid."

You giggled and the walls he had put up around his heart after years of working as an underground hero crumbled one by one.

That's it. He was screwed.

One of your fluffy ears swiveled as you faintly heard the bell chime from outside, marking the end of the free period. Everyone would be making their way to Midnight's class and since it was your day off, you had planned to get back to the dorms even though you had nothing to do.

Surprisingly, you were rather good with coursework, finishing it rather fast and nailing the topics with relative ease that flabbergasted your classmates.

The teachers had staggered your schedule around the others so that you didn't take on too much at once and this allowed you more time off than the others to compensate for your rigorous schedule.

You didn't have any classes today so that's how you had the time to make him all of this and not be worried about making it to next period.

Thinking it would be rude to ask to stay longer, you reluctantly got up, making your way towards the door. You supposed it was time to go back to the dorm and clean up the mess you had left behind in your hurry.

"Y/N."

Aizawa's low tone halted you in place and you turned around, wondering if he was going to ask something of you.

To your surprise, he gestured to the empty seat next to him.

"Want to help me grade these?" He asked and your eyes lit up.

"Can I?!" You asked excitedly.

"Sure, kid." Aizawa replied, a hint of a smirk pulling at the edge of his mouth at your enthusiasm to do something so boring as grading papers.

Pumping your fist in the air, you sped over to his side, nearly tripping yet again in the process but managed to right yourself before crashing to the ground.

Yamada leaned down and lowered his voice, mischievously whispering as you plopped down in the chair next to him. "I always wondered what it would be like if you had kids."

Aizawa sharply elbowed him in the ribs.

"Shut up." He hissed to his nosy best friend before getting to work alongside you, teaching you what to look for while you skimmed each paper.

After grading papers for a while, he turned to you. While he knew that you hadn't eaten a lot since you were busy making him such a thoughtful lunch, that didn't mean he was going to let you off the hook.

You were currently wolfing down a bowl of gyūdon that he had ordered in for you.

When you objected to the generous offering, he had flatly told you off, easing up and letting you know that he was worried you weren't taking care of yourself and warned not to do it again when your eyes watered dangerously.

You were sly and sneakier than he gave you credit for as you tapped his shoulder. "Can I make you food from now on?"

"No." Came the dry retort from the stoic man, not taking his eyes off of the essays in front of him once.

You turned your best puppy dog eyes on him. "Pleaseeeeee~"

He shot you down again, still not looking at you. "No."

Huffing, you casted a look over your shoulder, puffing out your cheeks. "Yamada-sensei, he's being mean."

Immediately, a wind picked up around you, spurred on by the outraged shout that filled the air so much so that you had to clap your hands over your ears to protect them before your eardrums exploded.

"SHOUTA, WHY ARE YOU BEING MEAN TO MY NIECE?!?!?!?!" Yamada screamed.

Thank goodness it was only the three of you left in the lounge. Midnight and Cementoss had left a while ago and Vlad King wasn't going to be back until much later.

"She's not your niece." Aizawa snapped, throwing a textbook at his face.

Yamada deflected it rather easily and pouted sadly. "But Shouta, if she's your daughter, then that makes me the uncle!!"

Aizawa stiffened, unsure how you would take being labeled as his daughter but his shoulders slumped in relief as you doubled over with laughter.

"He's not wrong." You told him teasingly and he rolled his eyes.

"You two are too much to deal with." Aizawa complained, though there was light in his eyes, giving away his amusement and dare he say it, happiness.

"Hah!! Y/N, we did it!!" Yamada high-fived you excitedly.

You giggled. Aizawa instructed you to finish your food before you helped him grade anymore and you obeyed with a cheeky smile, pushing the rolling chair away so that you slid across the floor, your bright laughter ringing out as you spun around.

Yamada bent down, resting his arm on Aizawa's shoulder as soon as you were out of earshot and occupied with your new toy.

"She's a sweet girl."

Aizawa smiled slightly. "Yeah, she is."

That was the only agreement they reached in that afternoon of craziness.

"Hey, Y/N!! Can you make me lunch, too!!" Yamada shouted over the empty office cubicles from where you were playing fetch.

Definitely not a good idea but you were so full of energy that it was either this or laps around Gym Gamma and this seemed a lot more appealing to you.

"Oi." Aizawa shot him a glare. "Don't make more work for her."

"But her katsu curry is sooooo good." He complained, a dreamy look in his eye.

You readily agreed to make him lunches too, and Aizawa's concern grew.

"You don't have to, you know." He jabbed a finger at his colleague who was reaching for the food in the background, only to be swatted away by him. "He'll survive without food. Unfortunately."

You stifled a laugh at the jab, but it burst out anyways as Yamada heard it and narrowed his eyes at his best friend.

Clutching your midsection, you doubled over when Present Mic jumped on an unsuspecting Eraserhead from behind.

"Gah, get off of me!! You're heavy." Aizawa groaned, shoving him off.

Yamada's gasp was way too over exaggerated for him to actually be insulted and you giggled when he allowed himself to be pushed off.

"Shouta, you love me~" He sang gleefully, dancing back over to him and sticking his face close to his.

"No, I don't." Aizawa expressed emotionlessly.

"WHAAAAAAAT?!" Yamada cried, bawling as he sank to the floor dramatically.

Your laughter had turned silent as you ran out of air to produce sound, tears leaking out of your eyes from laughing so hard that Aizawa actually had to rush over and make sure you were still breathing.

After that, he didn't let the loudmouth get that far again.

Once the chaos died down a decent amount, he became concerned as he realized that by making his annoying best friend food from now on, it'll be too much of a hassle.

Aizawa's thoughts ran rampant as he tried to think of valid reasons to talk you out of it.

You could fall behind on your studies. You could overwork yourself. You would make the rest of the students lazy if they caught wind of your delicious cooking.

But you brushed him off, flashing your canines as you confidently reassured him that you would be okay making both him and Yamada lunches every day.

"I can make them when I free time and plan ahead so that you have food for each week." You told him, subtly insisting that you could handle it.

Aizawa rubbed the back of his neck, thinking you shouldn't be putting so much pressure on yourself to do this for him, but in the end your determination won out and he surrendered.

But only after telling you repeatedly not to overdo it.

You hid a smile behind your hand as he resumed his work, your ears twitching as the next bell rang and you stood up to get back to Heights Alliance, collecting the empty bento box on your way out.

He might deny it if you asked him while Yamada was there, but you were quite sure that was his way of saying that he loved you.

Taglist: @katsukis-sad-angel

#bnha fanfiction #ojiro x reader #ojiro x reader fanfiction #my hero academia fanfiction #aizawa shouta #yamada hizashi #kayama nemuri #midnight #present mic #eraserhead #dadzawa #platonic aizawa x reader #aizawa shouta fanfiction #ojiro fluff #aizawa angst #hurt and comfort #parental aizawa #aizawa shota

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